Wheels (57 page)

He went on, explaining that a group of scientific people like himself
had banded together in
formation of the company, their objective to convert new, advanced
knowledge with which the sciences abounded, into practical inventions and
technology. A special concern was freshly emerging energy .3ources and
power transmission. Not only would developments envisaged bring aid to
beleaguered cities and industry, they would also augment the world's food
supply by massive, powered irrigation. Already the group had scored
successes in several fields so that the company was, as Perce expressed
it, "earning bread and butter and some jam," Much more was expected.
"A good deal of our work is focusing on superconductors," Perce
reported. He asked Adam, "Know much about that
.”

"A little, not much
.”

"If there's a major breakthrough
and some of us believe it can
happen-it'll be the most revolutionary power and metallurgical
development in a generation. I'll tell you more of that later. it could
be our biggest thing
.”

At the moment, Perce declared, what the company needed was a top-flight
businessman to run it. "We're scientists, old boy. If I may say so,
we've as many science geniuses as you'll find under one umbrella in this
country. But we're having to do things we don't want to and are not
equipped for-organization, management, budgets, financing, the rest.
What we want is to stay in our labs, experiment, and think
.”

But the group didn't want just any businessman, Perce declared. "We can
get accountants by the gross and management consultants in a dump truck.
What we need is one outstanding individual -someone with imagination who
understands and respects research, can utilize technology, channel
invention, establish priorities, run the front office while we take care
of the back, and still be a decent human being. In short, old boy, we
need you
.”

It was impossible not to be pleased. Being offered a job by an outside
company was no new experience for Adam, any more than it was to most
auto executives. But the offer from Perce, because of who and what he
was, was something different.
Adam asked, "How do your other people feel
.”

"They've learned to trust my judgment. I may tell you that in
considering candidates we made a short list. Very short. Yours was the
only name on it
.”

Adam said, and meant it, "I'm touched
.”

Sir Perceval Stuyvesant permitted himself one of his rare, slow smiles.
"You might even be touched in other ways. When you wish, we can talk
salary, bonus, stock position, options
.”

Adam shook his head. "Not yet, if at all. The thing is, I've never
seriously considered leaving the auto business. Cars have been my life.
They still are
.”

Even now, to Adam, this entire exchange was mere dialectics. Greatly as
he respected Perce and strong as their friendship was, for Adam to quit
the auto industry voluntarily was inconceivable.
The two were in facing chairs. Perce shifted in his. He had a way of
winding and unwinding while seated which made his long, lean figure seem
sinuous. Each movement, too, signaled a switch in conversation.
"Ever wonder," Perce said, "what they'll put on your tombstone
.”

"I'm not at all sure I'll have one
.”

Perce waved a hand. "I speak metaphorically, old boy. We'll all get a
tombstone, whether in stone or air. It'll have on it what we did with
the time we had, what we've left behind us. Ever thought of yours
.”

"I suppose so," Adam said. "I guess we all do a little
.”

Perce put his fingertips together and regarded them. "Several things
they could say about you, I suppose. For example: 'He was an auto
company vice-president' or even maybe 'president' -that's if your luck
holds and you beat out all the other strong contenders. You'd be in good
company, of course, even though a lot of company. So many auto
presidents and vice-presidents, old boy. Bit like the population of
India
.”

"If you're making a point," Adam said, "why not get to it
.”

"A splendid suggestion, old boy
.”

Sometimes, Adam thought, Perce overdid the studied Anglicisms. They had
to be studied because, British baronet or not, Perce had lived in the
U.S. for a quarter century and, with the exception of speech, all his
tastes and habits were American. But perhaps it showed that everyone had
human weaknesses.
Now Perce leaned forward, eying Adam earnestly. "You know what that
tombstone of yours might say: 'He did something new, different,
worthwhile. He was a leader when they carved new pathways, broke fresh
ground. That which he left behind him was important and enduring
.”

'
Perce fell back in his chair as if the amount of talk-unusual in his
case-and emotional effort had exhausted him.
Amid the silence which followed, Adam felt more moved than at any other
point since the conversation began. In his mind he acknowledged the
truth of what Perce had said, and wondered, too, how long the Orion
would be remembered after its time and usefulness were ended. Farstar
also. Both seemed important now, dominating the lives of many, including
his own. But how important would they seem in time to come?
The office suite was quiet. It was late afternoon, and here as
elsewhere within the staff build
ing, pressures of the day were easing, secretaries and others beginning to
go home. From where Adam sat, glancing outside he could see the freeway
traffic, its volume growing as the exodus from plants and offices began.
He had chosen this time of day because Perce had asked particularly that
they have at least an hour in which they would be undisturbed.
"Tell me some more," Adam said, "about super-conductors-the breakthrough
you were speaking of
.”

Perce said quietly, "They represent the means to enormous new energy, a
chance to clean up our environment, and to create more abundance than this
earth has ever known
.”

Across the office, on Adam's desk, a telephone buzzed peremptorily.
Adam glanced toward it with annoyance. Before Perce's arrival he had given
Ursula, his secretary, instructions not to disturb them. Perce seemed
unhappy about the interruption, too.
But Ursula, Adam knew, would not disregard instructions without good
reason. Excusing himself, he crossed the room, sat at his desk and lif ted
the phone.
I wouldn't have called you," his secretary's low-pitched voice announced,
"except Mr. Stephensen said he has to speak to you, it's extremely urgen
t!
"Smokey Stephensen
.”

“y
es, sir
.”

Adam said irritably, "Get a number where he'll be later this evening. If
I can, I’ll
call him. But I can't talk now
.”

He sensed Ursula's uncertainty. "Mr. Trenton, that's exactly what I said.
But he's most insistent. He says when you know what it's about, you won't
mind him interrupting
.”

"Damn
.”

Adam glanced apologetically at Perce, then asked Ursula, "He's
on the line now
.”

"Yes
.”

"Very well, put him on
.”

Cupping a hand over the telephone, Adam promised, "This will take one
minute, no more
.”

The trouble with people like Smokey Stephensen, he
thought, was that they always considered their own affairs to have
overriding importance.
A click. The auto dealer's voice. "Adam, that you
.”

"Yes, it is
.”

Adam made no attempt to conceal his displeasure. "I
understand my secretary has already told you I'm busy. Whatever it is
will have to wait
.”

"Shall I tell that to your wife
.”

He answered peevishly, "What's that supposed to mean
.”

"It means, Mr. Big Executive too busy to take a phone call from a
friend, your wife has been arrested. And not on a traffic charge, in
case you're wondering. For stealing
.”

Adam stopped, in shocked silence, as Smokey went on. "If you want to
help her, and help yourself, right now get free from whatever you're involved in and come to where I'm waiting. Listen carefully. I'll tell you
where to go
.”

Dazedly, Adam wrote down the directions Smokey gave him. "We need a lawyer," Adam said. "I know several. I'm going to phone one,
get him over here
.”

He was with Smokey Stephensen, in Smokey's car, on the parking lot of
the suburban police station. Adam had not yet been inside, Smokey had
persuaded him to remain in the car while he recited the facts concerning
Erica, which he had learned on the telephone from Chief Arenson, and
during a visit to the chief's office before Adam's arrival. As Adam listened
he had grown increasingly tense, his frown of worry deepening.
"Sure, sure," Smokey said. "Go phone a lawyer. While you're about it, why
not call the News, Free Press and Birmingham Eccentric? They might even
send photographers
.”

"What does it matter? Obviously, the police have made a stupid mistake
.”

"They ain't made a mistake
.”

"My wife would never . .
.”

Smokey cut in exasperatedly, "Your wife did. Will you get that through
your head? And not only did, she's signed a confession
.”

I can't believe it
.”

"You'd better. Chief Arenson told me; he wouldn't lie. Besides, the police
aren't fools
.”

"No," Adam said, I know they're not
.”

He took in a deep breath and
expelled it slowly, forcing himself to think carefully-for the first time
since hastily breaking off the meeting with Perceval Stuyvesant half an
hour ago. Perce had been understanding, realizing that something serious
had occurred, even though Adam hadn't gone into detail about the sudden
phone call. They had arranged that Adam would call Perce at his hotel,
either later tonight or tomorrow morning.
Now, beside Adam, Sm
okey Stephensen waited, puffing on a cigar, so the
car reeked of smoke despite its air conditioning. Outside, the rain
continued drearily, as it had since afternoon. Dusk was settling in. On
vehicles and in buildings lights were coming on.
"All right," Adam said, "if Erica did what they say, there has to be
something else behind it
.”

Out of habit, the auto dealer rubbed a hand over his beard. His greeting
to Adam on arrival had been neither friendly nor hostile, and his voice
was noncommittal now. "Whatever that is, I guess
it's between you and your wife. The same goes for what's right or wrong;
neither one's any business of mine. What we're talking about is the way
things are
.”

A police cruiser pulled in close to where they were parked. Two
uniformed officers got out, escorting a third man between them. The
policemen took a hard look at Smokey Stephensen's car and its two
occupants; the third man, whom Adam now saw was handcuffed, kept his
eyes averted. While Smokey and Adam watched, the trio went inside.
It was an uncomfortable reminder of the kind of business transacted
here.
"The way things are," Adam said, 'Trica's inside there-or so you tell
me-and needs help. I can either barge in myself, start throwing weight
around and maybe make mistakes, or I can do the sensible thing and get
a lawyer
.”