Chapter 2

Saturday, August 4, 2035

Al Green was always impressed when he visited Modern Electronics. This time was no exception. The company was now well established. It was the brainchild of his brother Sam. In fact, it had started out in his brother's garage. It was now housed in a hundred thousand square foot building made of glass and steel. When you walked into Modern Electronics, it was almost like walking into a hospital. The corridors were so clean they shined, and opening off of them were laboratories were people moved about dressed in white clothing that looked like it had come out of an operating room. The peoplesí hair was covered completely by a white caps, and their mouths and noses were covered with surgical masks.

Al had seen these people many times in the past, but he always wondered how someone could wear such a garb a minimum of eight hours a day. Al had always been too much of a free spirit to allow himself to be chained to a specific schedule, let alone be forced to wear special clothing and work in a controlled environment.

As the brothers walked down the long corridor, they would stop briefly in front of each of the labs, and Sam would explain what was going on in it. Al was only halfway listening to his brother's explanations. He was more interested in watching his brother's expressions, and wondering just how smart Sam actually was. He had always realized Sam was something special. He knew his brother had gotten a full academic scholarship, and had graduated with honors from Stanford University. He knew Sam had gotten a master's degree from Cal Poly, and a doctorate from MIT. He also knew Sam now had several patents to his credit, and that his company was making money hand over fist. No matter how much he realized intellectually that Sam was something special, he couldn't get over the fact that Sam was also his little brother.

Al smiled at his brother, patiently waiting out the explanations. It seemed Sam was always doing something, always on the move, and showing off the company's accomplishments was one of his greatest joys. It wasn't that Al had no interest in what his brother had to say, he just couldn't keep up with the technobabble that Sam was inclined to speak.

Sometimes he wondered if Linda, Sam's wife, could follow what Sam was saying. Al grinned to himself, thinking of the pretty woman Sam was lucky enough to win over. Maybe when they went to bed Sam actually spoke English or maybe the technobabble actually turned Linda on. Al restrained a chuckle. In any case they had two of the sweetest girls anyone could claim to be an uncle to.

"Hey, wait a minute," Al kidded, placing his hand affectionately on Sam's shoulder. "Back up on that last one and go over it in words of one syllable. Are you saying that you've developed dihedron memory crystals that'll hold six hundred gigabytes?"

Sam paused, smiling at his brother, knowing full well he'd been only half listening to his technical jargon. "That's exactly right, big brother. Since you're a computer nerd and use dihedrons all the time, you probably know a little bit about them." Sam grinned at his brother, knowing that his last statement would get a rise out of Al. He put up his hand to ward off the onslaught of denial. "You already know that the computer actually changes the lattice structure of the surface layer of the crystal to store information. They're limited to a hundred gigs of storage. If you try to write the data bits too close together the outer layer of the crystal will erode. I haven't gotten around that problem completely, but I'm working on it. I've come up with a process that requires heating the crystal to a high temperature, then filling the chamber with a mixture of gasses. I then rapidly cool the crystal to well below zero. This hardens the surface of the crystal and some of the gas molecules bond with the molecules of the crystal. The new crystal will store at least six times the data that the old crystal stored."

"So you mean," asked Al, seeing the possibilities, "that I can put one of your new crystals in my pocket computer and write a total of six hundred gigs of data on it? Do I have to change anything in the computer itself? When are these things going to be available? Do they cost an arm and a leg?"

"Hold on," Sam laughed his excitement apparent in his voice. "Looks like I finally got your attention" he grinned at his older brother's obvious interest. "That's right brother. You can write six hundred gigs to it. It has as good or better retention than the old crystals, and if you figure the cost of the heating and cooling chambers into the number of crystals they will process, they're not that much more expensive to make. We've preprogrammed the boot area of the crystal so that it tells the computer what size it is and how to find the data areas, so you don't have to do a thing. It looks like it's going to be six months to a year before they're available on the market, but that's mainly due to a lack of startup capital." Sam nudged Al in the ribs jokingly. "Would you like to invest a couple of million? Maybe we could make an honest businessman out of you yet. I know it would make Dad happy."

Al shook his head slowly, remembering the countless times he'd tried to explain his choice of careers to his father. It was futile to try and make him understand, his mind was made up that Al was a deadhead. "Poor Dad. He can never understand why you and I took different paths." He sighed, his eyes shadowing against a memory he wasn't comfortable with. "You know I love him, Sam. It just gets hard to take sometimes being compared to you. I feel that I'm making a contribution to society, too. I know my computer games aren't as socially redeeming as the new products you invent, but I do alright financially.

"Hey Sam, you don't have to convince me! I know how hard you work on those games, and you deserve the monetary returns." He stopped in the middle of the corridor gazing forlornly at his brother. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hit a sore spot. It seems like ever since Mom died, Dad has been obsessed with making a lasting impression. You were seventeen, I was fourteen. Maybe Dad's lectures made a bigger impression on me." Sam sighed, raking his fingers through his hair, a gesture Al had seen since Sam was a kid. When something couldn't be explained, or Sam couldn't find an answer, that was what he did. "I don't know. There are times I wish I were more like you, easy going and free. It seems like I always have to be producing, coming up with the big ideas." The forlorn look on his face slowly slid away as he grinned, the flashing smile a mirror image of Al's. "It can be fun though... and profitable." he laughed, slapping Al on the back.

Physically they were both in their mid thirties, but there all similarity ended. Al was a tall man, with blond hair and blue eyes, like his mother. Sam was shorter and darker, with a distinct Mediterranean cast to his features.

They resumed their walk down the corridor, brother beside brother, just as it had always been. The silence between them was comfortable, as though they both knew what the other was thinking. "How much do you need for startup capital on this? Maybe I could invest." Al mused out loud.

"Well, the accountants say that it's going to cost around ten million to convert our existing equipment. I already have pledges for a little over five million, so... "

By this time they had reached the lab area. The bright fluorescent lighting filled the room, giving the pristine white walls the look of a sterile operating room. Long slanted tables covering the length of the lab stood on both sides of the room. Several men and woman were hunched over the tables, their tall, bar like stools reaching unusually high. Al nodded to a couple of the employees as they looked up from their work, recognizing them from previous visits. Sam moved close to a tall, dark haired, scraggly looking character that Al knew was probably the best microprocessor designer on the planet. Sam had whisked him away from DynaCom, the biggest computer research firm in the nation, five years previously, and it had cost him an arm and a leg, but it was worth every penny.

Edison Jones looked up from his work and grinned at Sam. He was tall, lanky and a little stoop shouldered. His piercing green eyes saw everything around him, moving constantly, never resting for long on any one thing. He was listening to a walkman, the music so loud Al and Sam could hear it from where they stood. The small dihedron component walkman rested in Edison's shirt pocket, a bit smaller then a cigarette pack, while the ear phones blasted away in his ears. There were no wires to get in the way, only the smooth sounds of jazz came from the ear pieces. It had been a big seller for Sam and the company, and the brain child of Edison. Sam reached over on a nearby work table, picked up a package, and handed it to Al. "Here's a free sample of the new polyhedrons. There are six in the package, so there is a total storage of 36 Gigabytes in the space where you would normally store 6 gigs. They don't have the company logo or anything yet, but give 'em a try and tell me what you think". Al smiled his thanks, looked the package over briefly, and dropped it in his jacket pocket.

Al patted the pocket holding the polyhedron crystals. "Little brother, I think I might be able to raise some, or maybe even all of the capital for you. This discovery of yours will change the computer industry, as we now know it. Of course, I can't finance that kind of money all by myself, but I have a few friends who're interested in computers and the future. I think they'll be able to see how big this is going to be. We would expect a reasonable return on the money, and a piece of the profits, but it could be done."

The satisfied smile on Sam's face was smug. "I knew if anyone could see the advantages to this new advancement, you could. You don't know how good that makes me feel, big brother." The smile faded, replaced by a shadow. "I know I don't tell you everything that's going on around here, but I'm really afraid of losing control of the business right now. I'm under a lot of pressure to go public with the company and issue stock. I don't want to do that, just for that reason. I don't want to lose control." Gazing sideways, Al saw the concern in his brother's face.

"Well, I'm sure we could work something out so that all you did was repay our capital plus interest and a piece of the profits. I sure don't want control. Remember, I'm the black sheep of the family who hasn't quite grown up yet."

"I'm glad someone doesn't want control of my business. I thought I was going to have to hire a commando squad to get rid to the Japanese who were here yesterday."

"Japanese? What did they want?", Al asked, concerned.

Al watched Sam's face as the unpleasant memory returned. "Well, they've heard of the new polyhedron process and God knows where they heard it." Sam shook his head in disbelief. "The next thing I know, they're wanting to buy my business. It was unbelievable! They came right out and asked me to give them a price. When I said I wasn't interested in selling, they tried to buy the patent rights to the process." Sam raked his hand through his hair in exasperation. "Al, they may have been Japanese, and the guy in charge was polite, hell, he even bowed in the traditional way, but there was nothing traditional about him. He reminded me of the classic used car salesman. And his business partner was even stranger. He was supposed to be a businessman, but he looked more like a professional killer. He had the strangest eyes I've ever seen. I don't think he ever blinked, and he didn't take his eyes off me the whole time he was here. I don't mind admitting I was more than a little intimidated."

"Did they finally accept the fact that you weren't going to sell to them?" Al asked.

"I don't think they really did. They left, but said they were going to be back next week, and that if I knew what was good for me I would reconsider. At least they left. I told Marge not to let them in if they come back."

"If they give you too much trouble, kid, call the cops. That's what we pay them for, so why not make use of them? Maybe you should call them anyway. That is a threat you know."

"Oh, I don't think they'll be back. I think they were just trying to save face. Like I said, Marge won't let them in. I've never seen anyone yet who could intimidate her." Sam grinned. They both knew his right hand lady could take on the best of them and come out without a scratch, even at four foot eleven, you didn't mess with Marge.

As Sam walked Al out to his car, they made a date for Al to come over the following weekend for dinner and a romp with the girls. As he took off in his little red sports car, Al couldn't help but smile in anticipation. If he never had kids, at least he had the next best thing, Sam's kids.

Monday August 6, 2035

The ancient art of Shinto Muso'ryu jo, sometimes known as Jodo or Jojutsu had its origins as an ancient Japanese martial arts form. Muso Gonnosuke is attributed with inventing the form of combat in the early 1600's, after having been bested by Miyamoto Musashi in a duel. Muso Gonnosuke, who was a six foot tall strapping warrior had been going around the country fighting duels and teaching the older forms of martial arts to a following of would be masters.

Gonnosuke challenged Musashi to a duel and when he was defeated, he went up to Homangu, part of the Kamado Shinto shrine atop Mount Homan, in Chikuzen province. For 37 days he meditated and performed rites of austerity. On the last night, while praying in front of an altar, he collapsed and had a divine vision. In the vision a heavenly child visited him. The child was holding a round log and said, "Know the attack point on the body."

This compelled Gonnosuke to whittle a short staff about 128 cm long. Using the shorter staff, Gonnosuke had the ability to shift it rapidly in his hands. Gonnosuke was able to defeat Musashi in a second duel without causing him great harm. Gonnosuke also created a system of five secret methods (hiden gyoi) that incorporated all the techniques of his new jo style.

Relaxed movements and postures characterize all attacks, a maximum focus of energy being applied only at the actual moment of impact. This allows maximum efficiency of movement and conservation of energy and also provides the trainee with a critical margin (yoyu) to be used in the case of something unforeseen occurring

The methods of Gonnosuke have been passed down over the centuries and have developed into a form that, while still keeping its martial arts roots, has become a philosophy of living. One of the modern masters of Jojutsu has said that Jodo should be done to build one's character and that Jodo should be like a steering wheel. The road is life. And there are all kinds of ways one can go down the road. Use Jodo to steer as straight a course as possible through life.