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President Barber sat at his large oak desk, sipping on a steaming cup of coffee. Troy paced back and forth ten feet in front of the president’s desk, anxiously awaiting the next cabinet member to arrive.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Was that a knock at the door?” asked Troy.
“I believe it was more of a tap,” quipped President Barber with a smirk.
Troy raced over to the front door. He halted his rush on a dime, his nose only inches from the door. He quickly fixed his comb over hair, then with his hands, flattened out his button-up dress shirt. He gave a long, powerful sigh. Then opened the door.
A tall, middle-aged lady with gray hair awaited politely outside the door, her hands interlocked below her navel. Troy recalled exactly who she was, even from a decade earlier in the dark sewer. Dr. Barbara Gallagher, now The Movement’s Chief Energy Scientist, stood ready to enter the President’s office.
“Welcome, Dr. Gallagher,” greeted Troy with a sway of his left arm, welcoming her to step inside.
“Why thank you, sweetie,” she replied with a broad smile.
Dr. Gallagher tiptoed her away to the president’s desk. She lightly pressed her fingertips together out in front of her below her breasts, as if she were holding something small against her chest.
“Welcome to my office, Dr. Gallagher,” said President Barber, standing up from his desk and gesticulating for her to take a seat in one of the leather-buttoned chairs.
“Thank you, Mr. President. This is a fine office you have here,” she complimented.
“Thank you Dr. Gallagher. It was constructed only two years ago, but designed to have the vintage look which Mr. George Washington would have appreciated,” he said, moving his head aside to show her the portrait of the first US president behind him.
“Oh! That’s a very nice portrait of him, I might add!” she observed.
Troy returned to his chair adjacent to Dr. Gallagher’s with a stern face.
“Ahem,” he coughed to get the president’s attention. “Shall we?”
“We shall,” he replied. “Dr. Gallagher; as you know, energy is what every modern society needs to function. We need to know what kind of energy you plan to employ to keep The Movement’s power in place. It must be inexpensive and renewable, but most of all efficient.”
“Yes, yes,” she replied calmly. “Well, I am an advocate of wind and solar energy and have my entire heart in pushing further for the matter. However, the cheapest innovation to date is that energy powered by gravity.”
“Gravity?” asked Troy. “Please, explain.”
“Certainly. Envision a vertical cable. There is a mechanism on the top end of this vertical cable, which concealed inside is an intricate system of tiny gears and pulleys. This mechanism is dense for its size-about ten pounds or so in a thing not much bigger than your hand. The weight, naturally, forces the mechanism downward by gravity, a highly accessible-and free-resource here on Earth. As the mechanism slowly descends down the rope, the hundreds of tiny gears inside it begin to churn rather quickly, providing energy,” she explained.
“How long can this system be in place before it needs reset?” asked Troy.
“Currently, every foot the mechanism travels down the rope provides about six hours of energy to power a single home. Certainly, this innovation requires further improvement, but if we can power The Movement with gravity, I think we’ll be in a powerful position forever,” she explained.
YOU ARE READING
The Movement
Science FictionTroy Duckworth is a successful businessman whose random act of charity turns him into the monster he once despised. With the diehard effort of a dangerous homeless man, Troy rediscovers his genius mind, tragic childhood, and the unstoppable revolut...