The crowd was still settling into the chairs, hushed, milling in the fringes. In the rear, framed by the portal facing the parking lot, a pale man was talking on his phone and gesturing with his open palm as he talked. The edges of the tent rustled again, rippling. Dice fingered the prompter built in to the podium.

"We're glad you're here this morning. Please make yourself comfortable." The crowd began to settle, and Alice's eyes were still on him.

"Today, we are standing at the gateway to the next generation in transportation. Zeppelin Development International, together with our strategic partners, announces a revolution in the foundations of the global economy." She had her hand curled in her purse now.

"As a demonstration of the realization of our vision, we at ZDI are proud to announce the maiden voyage of the CAT-11. At 8:00 AM on May 19, the she will depart from Los Angeles carrying 128 fully loaded shipping containers, a crew of five, and eight special guests. Fifteen hours later she will stop in Chicago, exchange her cargo, then proceed to Lakehurst, New Jersey, arriving at 8:00 AM May 20. Fossil fuel consumption for this trip will be the equivalent of 175 gallons of regular gasoline."

On the screen that filled the wall behind him, an image of the airship appeared, her asymmetrical hulls silver against a map of North America with the flight path marked in red, turning to green. The guy in black in the back was standing with his arms crossed, holding his open phone against his elbow.

"There has never been a safer, more fuel-efficient transportation solution than the CAT-11."

Dice turned and gestured toward the screen as the video continued. Dice went to his place at the podium and sat down next to Spider. Spider was motionless, his eyes on the two orange adn white boxes standing on the loading dock. Spider had played his part. Alice was digging into her phone now, texting someone. Dice waited, then checked his phone. No. Information.

The video started with shots of the Grand Canyon. The tandem pods of the CAT-11 floated effortlessly in the sky, the sun glinting from the solar array that skinned the tops of her hulls. Charts showing the flight path from Taipei to LA, to Chicago, to Bowling Green and Short Hills, to a thousand destinations in North America. Shots of the containers being hoisted into place on the booms between the silver surfaces, the asian workmen cinching the container holddowns in the gantry.

A shot within the fuselage, at night, a deep cavernous space encircled with a lacy trellis of trusses, filled with the flying mixer robots, glowing faintly as they drifted in the space, their propellers and paddles whirling. An image of the plasma drive/generators, each with a crackling ball of purple lightning suspended magnetically within the plasma chamber, burning like an angry piece of the sun. A shot in the cabin showing the smiling captain joking with her guests, the flat mesas in the distance yellow in the Arizona sun.

A chart showing Chinese exports and trade projections for the next twenty years. A quick long shot of ships queued up for entrance to the Panama Canal. The CAT-11 floating over the parking lot of a suburban mall, lowering a container precisely into the loading dock. Charts of payload capacity, airspeed, and cost-of-transport-to-market for conventional transportation systems, showing that the next generation CAT vehicles could do in eight days what takes 63 currently. A shot of the parking lot at Sears on a snowy winter night. Cut to the CAT floating above the clouds, her propellers synchronized, swinging slowly in the glancing light of the rising sun. The circle and bars of the ZDI logo.

Dice stood up and leaned into the microphone. She was watching him closely now. He took his time. "Ladies and Gentlemen, transportation has seen many revolutions. The ship. The wheel. The canal. The railroad. The airplane, the automobile. Today the promise of the airship is realized at last. Ladies and Gentlemen--" and Dice introduced the B, who rose slowly from his seat. 

The B took the microphone and said, "I want to thank each of you for the honor of your presence here today. I expect you to enjoy yourself completely, and if you have any complaints whatsoever, please bring them to me personally. You are all invited for a flight in our prototype," here he waved to his right, "later this afternoon. And this evening I expect each of you to join us for the banquet in the hanger. But now it's my privilege to introduce my good friend Tony Lucio, founder of Daemon's Department stores, and one of ZDIs most valued strategic partners." Dice looked at his agenda, but there was nothing on it about this.

The B stood aside, making way for a slight, pale man, very well dressed, who approached the microphone and said, "Thank you so much. Today, I am pleased to be announcing that Daemon's has reached agreement with ZDI to be our sole transportation solution in the western hemisphere. Over the next four years, ZDI will transport over $750 billion worth of goods for our customers." He turned to the B, "We're pleased to have the privilege of being the first to commit a billion dollars to facilitate the successful implementation of your vision."

Dice knew they had a $500 million commitment from Wal-Mart and $200 million from Sears. He took his phone from his pocket and sent a message, "Who the f is daemon's?"

The B stood next to Lucio for a moment while cameras flashed, then turned to look up at the screen.

There was an uplink with Target, then one with Apple. A politician whose career was built around environmental causes spoke for ninety seconds about the benefits of carbon-neutral consumption offered by the venture and the political challenges the world would face as a result of it. Dice looked at his boss, and she stared back at him, her folder neat on the table in front of her.

The B took center stage again. "My lawyers have instructed me to say the following," and he recited the fundamentals of the initial public offering, the incantations of liability and magical phrases of disclaimer that must accompany public interaction. ZDI would be raising a hundred billion dollars for a one-fifth ownership interest.

A UPS truck turned at the chain-link gate in the distance and began moving down the service road. Spider fidgeted in the seat next to him. Dice's eyes followed the truck all the way down the lane. The cameras kept rolling as the B continued, and finally concluded, saying, "In two weeks, ZDI will announce the crew and passengers for the CAT-11's first voyage. We'll be inviting some special guests to accompany us on the trip... perhaps you? I'm sure you're eager to learn more, are there any questions?"

The pale man stood in the middle of the center aisle, near the third row of chairs. "Gunter Stutt, Der Spiegel," his voice had a taunting edge, which was sharpened by his accent, "You are aware of the experience of the europeans with CargoLifter?"

"With all due respect," The B laughed. "CargoLifter's is encumbered by european regulations and crippled by low expectations. We're well aware of the reasons for their failure. The new financing they have recently gotten from Dubai will only prolong their agony. We are ten years ahead of them in technology deployment - in propulsion, solar energy generation, and aeronautics, and, after today," the B smiled, "we're confident our resources will be adequate."

"You must have a very robust security system."

Spider twitched in his seat, then wiped the sweat from his hands on the rough linen of the table cloth in his lap. The UPS truck was stopped in the loading zone now, and the dock was empty.

"My lawyers tell me not to comment publicly on security matters." The B's neck stiffened, "Against their advice, I assure you that we understand the risks."

In the loading zone the driver shifted gears and the box truck pulled away, swinging around to head back the way it had come in, brown and gold. Spider studied the emptiness of the loading dock, his hands restless in his pockets.

The girl from engineering wasn't in her seat anymore, and Dice scanned the perimeter of the tent for the white splash of her sweater, his eyes thinning. His phone vibrated.

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