speaker could employ figures that seemed to prove their points, figures whose accuracy was never verified by any accredited authority.
Sitting on his sumptuous throne, King Midas monitored the ever increasing, practically tax-free millions he was gaining from the escalating sales, shipping, and installations of those mechanical marvels. The three separate companies reaping those astounding profits, each of which qualified for The National Security Tax Credit Act, were all subsidiaries of parent corporations clandestinely owned by the Midas conglomerate, where the enormous gain ultimately rose . . . never to trickle down.
Brad Barker and Sir Spiritus were quietly becoming millionaires by investing their combined Universal Cyber Services Corporation's ill-gotten gains in meticulously selected stocks of companies qualifying for the Tax Credit Act, which Brad's Bill had tailored specifically for them. His Spirit-supplied inside information and masterful manipulations had caused those stocks to skyrocket in value. Spiritus bought and sold through the Internet and swiftly wire-transferred their astronomical amounts of duty-free profits to secret and secure off-shore accounts.
Brad knew he couldn't continue to savor his laurels. He recognized the reality that even the most masterful plan could not indefinitely continue to have an unfailing effect. The march of time inexorably proceeded. It would soon be the first anniversary of Adam's death. In spite of the doctor's unceasing programmed scare tactics, the induced fears of the plebeians were beginning to subside. The number of worshipful sojourners passing through Pinewhittle was starting to dwindle. The ratings of the round-the-clock news reports were declining. That fact prompted the news networks to space the reports farther apart, making room for more dramatic events. The diabolical mind of Dr. Barker had not yet fabricated a sufficiently provocative strategy for sustaining the public's ongoing fascination.
Dweeb seized the opportunity to finally implement his stratagem when he overheard Brad distractedly voicing concern over the herd's diminished interest. Mr. Dorky urbanely offered an offhand idea for boosting the flagging ratings. If Brad sanctioned Dweeb's idea, it would give Dorky the excuse he needed to revisit Pinewhittle . . . and seduce Jasmine Jade. "When the members of the congregation lose their zealousness, they need an old-fashioned revival," Dweeb mentioned to Brad without enthusiasm, as though the subject was academic.
"Indeed, Mr. Dorky, would you like to deliver the sermon?" Barker asked somewhat petulantly, looking away from Dweeb in a preoccupied pose.
Exhibiting calculated composure, Dweeb affected a stifled yawn as he mildly responded, "In a manner of speaking . . . I believe I could."
His maneuver achieved the desired reaction. Brad focused his intense brown eyes fully on the technician. Dweeb noticed, not for the first time, how only Barker's left eye was often
