Cosmictron by Joe Vadalma

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There's really not much to it, really."

"I see. Well, thank you for your time -- and the demo. I see that it's perfectly safe. You even have a plastic cover."

"Tupperware."

* * *
William S. Trover, President of the Association of Energy Providers, lit up an expensive Cuban cigar as he listened to the presentation. When the chief engineer finished, he blew out two smoke rings. "And you're saying that this device actually generates electricity from cosmic rays and that it can be manufactured for less than ten dollars per?"

"I don't know whether the electricity is actually generated from cosmic rays, but my men saw the device and swear that it is only this big." He demonstrated its size with his hands. "We know that it feeds electricity into the system when it's plugged into a wall socket."

"We must purchase all rights to this device immediately and make sure that no one ever builds another. This could be disastrous for the Energy Industry. Pay the inventor whatever he asks. Start the bidding at a hundred thousand. If we offer too much right away, he may realize the awful potential of his device. Nonetheless, go as high as you must. We must get all rights to the patent."

"Yes, sir."

After the others left Trover's office, he made calls to other executives for a secret meeting. He had realized that more than the utilities were threatened by Pumpernick's invention. The entire power industry, oil, coal, natural gas, would collapse. Oil producing nations would go bankrupt. The world economy would be shaken to its roots.

* * *
When Pumpernick walked into the CEO's office of the County Gas and Light Company, he was deeply impressed by its luxury with it dark paneled walls and huge mahogany desk. Robert Smithe the Third rose and extended a hand in a greeting. He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal gray suit with the tip of a handkerchief that matched his maroon tie peeking from his breast pocket. He was in his fifties with silver gray hair, slightly overweight and had a charming smile.

"Please be seated, Mr. Pumpernick." Even the guest chairs were well cushioned. "May I get you anything? Coffee, tea, something alcoholic?"

"Uh, no thanks." Although Pumpernick was envious of the man and had ambitions to own such an office and tailored-made suits himself, he felt awkward and out of place. "Your letter said that County Oil and Gas was interested in investing in my company, Cosmic Power."

Smithe leaned forward with his the tips of his fingers making a tent on his desk. "That's not quite accurate. What we are interested in is purchasing the patent and all rights to the device you call the Cosmictron. We're prepared to go as high as a hundred thousand dollars." He leered at Pumpernick, as though by sheer force of will he could get his agreement.

Pumpernick burst into raucous uncontrolled laughter. After a couple minutes, he sputtered to a stop, although he still had an ear to ear grin. "You must think I'm a naive idiot. I came this close to getting a Ph.D. from MIT." He held his thumb and index finger a quarter of an inch apart.

Smithe frowned.