Astrid Maxxim and the Antarctic Expedition Read online

  The Maxxim City Hotel was small but very nice. Sitting at almost the exact center of town, it was a short walk from the monorail station. Astrid entered the comfortable lobby and stopped at the front desk. The woman working there was Doris Collins. Her son, Bud, was one of Astrid’s classmates.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Collins.”

  “Oh, good morning Astrid. What can I do for you?”

  “Captain Bonnefoy’s room please.”

  “He’s in 401, the Presidential Suite.”

  After a quick ride up the elevator to the fourth floor, Astrid knocked on the appropriate door. When it opened, it revealed a girl about Astrid’s age, with long brown hair and very large eyes.

  “Oh, hey. You’re Astrid Maxxim. Come in.”

  Following her into the spacious hotel room, Astrid and the girl joined two others who were seated around the table, having just finished breakfast. The first was a broad-chested young man with close-cropped brown hair. Only when he stood up did he reveal that he was missing his left arm from just above the elbow. The other was a very slim, pretty young woman with wispy blond hair.

  “Astrid Maxxim, I presume,” said the man, stepping across the room. “I’m David Bonnefoy, and this is my wife Megan and my little sister Bree.”

  “Nice to meet you all. Are you ready to go to the lab?”

  “We’re ready, but we aren’t really sure why we’re going,” he said. “It has to do with prosthetics, doesn’t it?”

  “I’m sorry,” said Astrid. “I should have sent you more information, but I’ve been pretty busy lately. Why don’t we all head on over to the lab and I’ll explain along the way.”

  “A couple of months ago, I was working on something I called Project RG-7,” explained the girl inventor, once they were sitting in the comfortable monorail coach. “It had to do with robots and how to program them easily. The project went better than expected. Then as the summer went on, I saw several news stories about soldiers such as yourself who had lost limbs in service to our country and I thought it might be possible to use the same technology to produce a robot arm or leg.”

  “I’ve seen some pretty impressive prosthetics,” said Captain Bonnefoy.

  “Yes, but nothing like this. The combination of Astridium and Astricite along with the programming technology that I developed should allow a prosthesis that’s years ahead of anything else. I sound like I’m bragging, I guess, but I think you’ll agree once you see it. I built a prototype arm and tested it as much as was possible, but I needed a human subject. I sent the measurements off to the veteran’s organization to find someone who it would be a good fit for it and your’s is the name I got.”

  They arrived at the R&D complex and Astrid escorted her guests to her lab on the fourteenth floor of the main building. Leading them over to one of the workbenches, she gestured with a flourish at the robot arm resting upon it. It was obviously made of the same bluish silver material as Robot Valerie, though it was larger than her arms.

  “It doesn’t look like a prosthetic at all,” said Mrs. Bonnefoy. “It just looks like an arm, only made of metal.”

  “It’s actually a polycarbonate,” said Astrid, “but I guess that’s not really important. Shall we try it out?”

  “What do I have to do?” wondered Captain Bonnefoy.

  “Take off your shirt,” said Astrid. “And before you get too excited, it’s going to be tomorrow before you’ll be able to control it.”

  “Tomorrow? I was expecting that it would take weeks or months.”

  He handed his shirt to his wife. Astrid picked up the robot arm and carefully fitted it onto the end of his damaged limb.

  “Now we just power it up,” she said, opening a small compartment and pressing a button inside.

  There were a series of beeps and hisses, followed by a thunk.

  “It’s connecting, and will map out the nerves in your arm. When we hear a series of…” Four or five beeps sounded. “There we are. It’s mapped. Now just sit here and I’ll hook up some sensors to your temples. This way, we can map out the entire command structure by copying the way your brain works.”

  “You’re not going to fry my brain or anything, are you?” he asked.

  “You would be surprised at how often I’m asked that,” said Astrid. “Now just sit still for about five minutes.”

  “All done,” she said, a short while later. “Now it will take up to twenty-four hours for the computers inside the arm to sort and file all the brain information it’s downloaded. At some point, the arm should just start working like a regular arm.”

  “This is so exciting,” said Mrs. Bonnefoy.

  “Since you’re here, why don’t I show you around the place?”

  Astrid gave them a tour of the R&D department, at least those areas of it that weren’t involved in classified work and then they walked across to the design building and visited Mr. Brown’s studio, where large scale mock-ups of Astrid’s space plane and electric racecar awaited her approval.

  “I think they look pretty good,” said the girl inventor. “What do you think?”

  “I think they’re the coolest things ever,” said Bree Bonnefoy.

  Back at the main building, they stopped at the cafeteria for sandwiches and soft drinks. Halfway through the meal, the captain suddenly exclaimed, “Look!” He reached out with the robotic arm and slowly picked up the saltshaker from the table.

  “Good. It’s starting to adapt,” said Astrid. “Remember, it won’t be fully functional for a while yet. Just keep calm and carry on, as the British say.”

  “I can feel the salt shaker!” said Bonnefoy. “I can actually feel it.”

  “Yes, well, the arm has sensors that will relay information to your brain. It’s nothing like your natural arm of course. I mean human limbs have thousands of nerve endings instead of a few dozen sensors. Still, it should help to have some tactile and temperature feedback.”

  “It’s a miracle,” he said.

  “If it is,” said Astrid, “then it’s a miracle of superconductive microprocessing and about $175,000 worth of engineering.”

  “One hundred seventy-five thousand dollars?” he said. “You’ll have to take this back then.”

  “No can do,” said Astrid. “It’s programmed to you. I can’t use it on anyone else even if I wanted to, at least not without replacing the logic components.”

  “But most veterans and accident victims will never be able to afford one of these. I don’t want something that my friends in the hospital and others will never be able to have.”

  “New technology is always expensive,” explained Astrid. “The price will come down eventually, and until it does, I have a plan to help see that all those who need these devices will be able to get them. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow, when we’re making the final adjustments on your arm.”

  “Should I take it off tonight?”

  “Not unless it’s bothering you in some way,” she said. “All right, now that lunch is over, you three can go enjoy your afternoon. Have you been to Joyland yet?”

  Chapter Fifteen: The Board Room

  The next morning after breakfast, Denise and the two Valeries joined Astrid and Océane at the Maxxim home. They all put on their swimsuits and hung out by the pool. Though they spent a little while swimming and diving, except for Robot Valerie who wasn’t able to go in the water, they mostly just sat out soaking up the sun. Even Astrid, who didn’t really believe in tanning, wanted a little color after more than a month with very little sunlight whatsoever.

  “It’s been so boring around here without you,” Denise told her. “Nobody even tried to kill me.”

  “I knew you’d miss me when I was gone,” said Astrid.

  “Who says I missed you? I happen to like boring.”

  “Don’t listen to her,” said Robot Valerie. “She complained the whole time you were gone.”

  “And she didn’t have anyone to text to,” added Regular Valerie, “because Mama makes us turn off our
phones at night.”

  “That isn’t true,” said Denise. “Alicia Noble and I spent many hundreds of hours texting back and forth about whether or not she should buy a new dress and what color it should be. I eventually convinced her to get the bright pink dress in the window at the Main Street Dress Emporium.”

  “You don’t mean that very frilly, gauzy thing that they displayed for the senior prom, do you?” wondered Astrid. “I didn’t think that was very attractive.”

  “I know,” smiled Denise. “It’s hideous.”

  “Why would you do that to Alicia? She’s always been pretty nice.”

  “She’s jealous,” said Robot Valerie. “She’s still mad because Christopher took Alicia to the Junior Prom.”

  “I’m not jealous,” said Denise, but her face broke out into an evil grin.

  “I’m glad I’m not your enemy,” said Astrid. “Or a, you know, casual acquaintance.”

  “Astrid,” called her father from the back door. “Come in here please.”

  Astrid followed him into the family room and the other girls came along too. The television was on but paused. When Astrid was in the room, her father picked up the remote and pressed play. A news story continued about the robot arm that Astrid had developed. So many scientific and technological developments came out of Maxxim City that all of the major news networks had reporters stationed there. That they had found something out about her project wasn’t a surprise, but that they had fairly extensive background information about Captain Bonnefoy and video of him and his family at Joyland the day before was.

  “Is this all accurate?” asked Dr. Maxxim.

  “Pretty much, I guess.”

  “I say this all the time, but I’ll say it again Astrid. I’m impressed. You have a knack for seeing the possibilities in your inventions. This is pretty incredible— incredible in a good way.”

  “There’s a bad incredible?” wondered Denise.

  “Your mother might be upset about not controlling the story or having a proper announcement,” continued Astrid’s father, “but this is a truly wonderful invention.”

  “Thanks Dad.”

  That afternoon after the girls had gone home and while her father was taking a nap, a man knocked at the Maxxim front door. When Astrid answered, he presented himself as Donald Rich Esq., agent for Maxwell Bauer. The girl inventor invited him into the dining room, where Mr. Rich gave her a portfolio of paperwork and carefully went over the contents with her. When he left forty-five minutes later, Astrid felt that she was ready for the board meeting the following morning.

  Making a quick trip to the hotel, the girl inventor checked the robot arm to find it working perfectly. She spent some time discussing her ideas for supplying the prosthetics with Captain Bonnefoy and before she left, invited him to return to Maxxim City for the August Press Event. Astrid fully expected to hear something about the robot arm and Captain Bonnefoy from her mother that evening, but she didn’t. Her mother never even came home, apparently working late into the evening in her office. Astrid, her father, and Océane had a quiet dinner of sandwiches and soup, and then the two girls spent an hour playing Ms. Pacman before turning in for the night.

  The next morning, Astrid was sitting outside the boardroom in the Maxxim Corporate Offices Building an hour before the board members began arriving. She wore the sharp business suit that she had purchased in Australia. She watched as the board members arrived in ones and twos. First was former senator Charles Bentlemore, followed by Marisela Elisandro and Saul Smith. Then Uncle Carl and Aunt Lauren arrived. Gloria wasn’t with them. A few minutes later Gertrude Cuttyhunk reached the door. At 89, Mrs. Cuttyhunk was the oldest board member by far.

  “Good morning, Astrid,” she said. “You look like you’re ready for business.”

  “It’s time, Mrs. Cuttyhunk.”

  “Is it? Thank goodness. I thought I would have to wait until you turned twenty-one.”

  The elderly woman put her arm on Astrid’s shoulder and they walked into the room together. Astrid sat behind her, in one of the chairs that lined the wall.

  A few minutes later, the last members of the board entered— Roy Dillanson, Astrid’s Aunt Penelope, and Astrid’s mother. Penelope gave Astrid a wave, but all she received from her mother was a frown and a question.

  “Why are you here?”

  “She’s here at my request,” said Mrs. Cuttyhunk.

  “All right,” said Mrs. Maxxim, taking her seat at the head of the long conference table. “I see no reason not to begin immediately. Mrs. Cuttyhunk, as always, you have the first order of business.”

  “Thank you,” said the elderly woman. “As you know, I always reserve the first order of business and usually use it to make an announcement of some civic activity, but today I have something different to bring before the board. I am retiring and I move that my seat be filled by Miss Astrid Maxxim.”

  “I second the motion,” said Uncle Carl.

  Kate Maxxim frowned again. “Astrid is too young,” she said.

  “The by-laws don’t list any age requirement,” said Uncle Carl, “only that a board member own a specifically determined number of shares. That number is currently specified at one million. I believe that Astrid owns four million shares.”

  “I own 14 million shares,” said Astrid, pulling a document from her portfolio, and seeing all the adult members of the Maxxim family start.

  “Discussion?” called Kate Maxxim. When no one said anything, she continued. “I won’t vote against my daughter of course, though I’m not sure this is a good idea. Very well then, if there is no discussion, we vote.”

  The measure passed, five-to-three, with Astrid’s mother abstaining. Mrs. Cuttyhunk stood up and pulled the chair out for Astrid to sit down.

  “When this is all over, we’ll have a big retirement party for you,” Astrid told the elderly woman as she took the seat.

  “I’m looking forward to it,” replied the Mrs. Cuttyhunk, and she headed for the door. “And I want a hoverbike as a retirement present.”

  “The second order of business goes to Carl Maxxim and his restructuring plan,” said Mrs. Maxxim.

  “You’ve all read my proposal,” said Uncle Carl. “This company needs to focus on what it does best, get rid of the legacy businesses, and expand production out of the southwest.”

  “We won’t allow that,” said Mrs. Elisandro, gesturing to Saul Smith and Roy Dillanson. “Production needs to stay here to ensure jobs for all our workers.”

  “This isn’t going to be a simple vote,” said Carl. “This is a share vote, and in addition to the votes in this room, I have 135 million proxy votes.” He looked across the table at Astrid. “Your mother has her votes and your father’s, and she’s voting proxy for the employees and the retirees. That makes 49 million more votes. I can push this through, even with the extra ten million that you have voting against me. But I don’t want that, Astrid. I want you to be a part of the new Maxxim. You’re going to do great things in the future and I want to help you.”

  “A couple of things, Uncle Carl,” said Astrid. “First off, you don’t have quite as many votes as you think. Aunt Lauren has sold off almost ten million shares of hers.”

  Uncle Carl shot a look at his wife. “Why?”

  “Everyone needed to see how unstable the company is with Kate running it,” Aunt Lauren answered meekly. “They needed to see why we need your plan.”

  “So she sold off the shares to throw the stock into instability,” added Astrid.

  “It doesn’t matter,” said Uncle Carl, still staring at his wife. “I still have the votes.”

  “No, you don’t,” said Astrid. “You see I’m voting proxy for on behalf of stock holders with 216 million shares.”

  “That’s not possible,” said Astrid’s Mother. “Who?”

  “Institutional and mutual fund holders organized by Mr. Maxwell Bauer,” said Astrid. “And I’m the proxy for Mr. Bauer’s 20 million shares too. I have all the appropriate
paperwork here.”

  Carl Maxxim, his face pale, slumped in his chair.

  “Uncle Carl,” said Astrid. “I agree with most of your plan. I think we are way too unfocused. I agree that we need to reorganize— you say three divisions, I would propose four. I agree that we need a new industrial complex, but I disagree very strongly with building one in China, and not just because they kidnapped me.”

  “Do you have an alternate site in mind?” he asked.

  “National Motors is one step away from bankruptcy. We can buy it. They have twenty-six manufacturing plants spread out across Michigan and Illinois. Not only will we have the industrial capacity that we need, but it can be the core of our new transportation division. Those auto plants can be making hoverbikes for us within a month. Being the savior of those cities in the so-called rust belt is just a bonus.”

  “Buying National Motors would cost at least $27 billion,” said Astrid’s mother.

  “Which would only put a dent in Maxxim’s cash reserves,” Astrid pointed out.

  “I could live with that,” said Uncle Carl, perking up. “All I want is for our company to be the greatest it can be.”

  “Well, we can’t live with it,” said Saul Smith. “We won’t stand by and let local jobs be sent up north.”

  “Uncle Carl,” said Astrid. “I would suggest you withdraw your current plan and make a motion to form a committee to revise it. That committee should include you, Chairman Kate Maxxim, and a team of our best executives. After we vote on that, we can vote on replacing those board members who no longer feel they can work with us.”

  Mrs. Elisandro let out a gasp and Mr. Smith stared open-mouthed.

  “I so move,” said Carl Maxxim.

  “I second the motion,” said Penelope Maxxim.