The Fast and the Spurious

Chapter One.

A Lonely Desert

The third to last day of our vacation, Kit Cloudkicker thought, and we're spending it in the middle of the desert.

He and Baloo Bear had been flying for hours through the most remote region of desert Kit had ever seen. There was nothing around but sand dunes stretching endlessly into the distance. The only things that provided a bit of variety were the rock formations scattered throughout the dunes. They were all formed from the same rust-colored rock but came in all shapes and sizes, from towering monoliths to small boulders.

Kit was bored and trying to find some interest in these formations, when Baloo's voice interrupted him.

"Kit, how much farther to Raceville?" Baloo sat in the pilot's seat a few feet away from Kit. He had a genuine look of concern on his face as he addressed his navigator. "We've been flying for over an hour and I haven't seen anything but rocks and sand!"

Glad for something to do, Kit pulled his head back into the cockpit. After replacing his blue baseball hat back onto his wind-blown top, he spread a map onto his lap and looked carefully at a complicated-looking glass-encased mechanism on the dashboard. It only took him a few seconds of glancing back and forth between the two before he answered. "Don't worry," Kit said. "According to the gyrocompass it should be about twenty minutes away."

"Good!" Baloo said. "I can't wait to hit the races!" He breathed a sigh of relief. He knew Kit's navigation skills were as good as gold. If he said they were going to be there in twenty minutes, that was how long it was going to take.

Of course, having state-of-the-art navigation equipment didn't hurt either. Baloo reached up to the dashboard compass and gave it an affectionate pat, feeling the cool metal beneath his paw. The compass was brand-new, unlike most things in the plane, which Baloo usually kept in a sorry state of clutter. Empty soda bottles and used napkins littered the floor. Kit had once found a sandwich in the glove compartment so old it had become mold than bread.

"Good thing Wildcat was able to install this brand-new gyrocompass in the Sea Duck before we left," Baloo said, referring to his mechanic. "We'd be lost out here without it."

"Yeah," Kit said. "Ever been to Raceville before, Papa Bear?"

"Nope," Baloo answered. "But I've heard it's great! We're talking shows, hotels, restaurants, casinos! Two days of nothing but fun and relaxation before we have to go back to the salt mines!"

"Sounds like fun."

"Yeah, but I didn't even mention the best part. There's-"

Kit suddenly sat bolt upright and pointed straight out the windshield. "Baloo, LOOK OUT!"

A green biplane, about three-quarters of the size of the Sea Duck, had somehow stumbled into their flight path and was headed on a collision course straight for them. With lightning reflexes, Baloo pushed the steering wheel hard to his left as far as it would go. The Sea Duck went into a roll that almost put her up on her side. The errant biplane whizzed by, passing underneath the passenger-side wing. It was so close that Baloo and Kit could clearly see its pilot, a large bison sporting flight googles. He seemed quite focused on where he was going, and was rather oblivious to the fact that he had nearly crashed head-on into a yellow seaplane. Without looking up at the Sea Duck or slowing down, he sped on and was by them in a flash.

As the Sea Duck righted herself, Kit breathed a sigh of relief. "Whew…that was close." His relief died instantly when he happened to glance out the windshield again. "Omigosh!" he blurted. Five more planes, coming from the same direction as the first, were headed toward them.

"Hang on!" Baloo announced, and pushed the control stick forward. Kit gripped the armrests of his chair tightly as the Sea Duck went into a steep dive. She dropped a hundred feet in an instant, out of the path of the oncoming planes, which zoomed by overhead. They were all different makes and models but all were sleekly designed; a couple of them had racing stripes down the side. Each plane passed by without slowing or apologizing, just as the first one had done, then receded into the distance.

Kit searched the sky frantically, fully expecting there to be more bogeys headed towards them. He saw nothing; that had been the last of them. When he was sure they were safe, he managed a look over at Baloo and was surprised to see the big bear was smiling. The near-crash had obviously not fazed him. "What was that all about?" Kit asked.

Baloo was grinning from ear to ear. "An air race, kiddo!" he said excitedly. "Raceville is one of the best cities in the world for air racing! All the top pilots in the world come here to compete!"

"An air race?" Kit looked at the planes travelling in the distance and saw they were indeed following a racecourse-like path through the desert. The planes were trying to overtake each other, and they swarmed about each other like mosquitoes as they did so. Kit watched the racers with great interest. When he spoke again, he seemed to have completely forgotten about the near-death experience they had only seconds before: "Man, that looks like fun. I want to do that someday!"

Baloo's gaze was also fixated on the racers. "Yeah…I know what you mean," he said.

"Think you could be a racer, Baloo?" Kit asked Baloo. He asked the question playfully, making it sound like a dare.

Baloo glared at Kit. "I know I could, Kit!" he snapped. He saw Kit was taken aback by his reaction, and he silently scolded himself for being too defensive. He knew he could get touchy at times – especially when someone questioned his ability as a pilot. Making sure to tone down his voice, he explained himself. "When I was younger I actually did some racing for a bit. I even won a few competitions,"

"Really?" Kit said. That was news to him. Baloo often told stories about his life from before they met, but he had had so many adventures as a pilot that practically every week Kit would learn something new about his "Papa Bear." It seemed like he had been everywhere and done everything.

"Yeah! Man, those were great times! Traveling the world...coming and going as I pleased...not a care in the world!" Baloo grinned broadly as he recalled the memories. Then reality visibly took hold of him. Baloo's face fell and he let out a mournful sigh. "Of course, then I lost the Duck, so now I'm stuck workin' for Becky till I get her back!"

Being foreclosed on and losing ownership of his plane (and his business) to Rebecca Cunningham was the single most regretful moment of Baloo's life. It had forced him into doing the one thing in life that he hated most: work. He had been flying cargo for Rebecca for more than a year now, trying to save up enough money to buy the Sea Duck back from her. But he still hadn't even saved a fraction of the amount he needed; most of the money he earned went straight into the coffers of a certain eating establishment. His money-saving habits (or lack thereof) were a big reason he had gotten into his situation in the first place.

Baloo sighed as he patted the dashboard of the Sea Duck. While he kept the plane messy, she was the most important thing in the world to him. "Man…if only I had the dough," Baloo said wishfully. "I'd buy back the Duck from Becky and just fly!" His expression became visibly annoyed as he thought of his boss. "You know what a drag it is to work for her every day?" He mocked his boss's voice: "'Baloo, do this!' 'Baloo, do that!' 'Baloo, you're late!' It's enough to drive a fella stark ravin' mad!" He turned to Kit for justification.

Kit just shrugged. He had heard this line of complaint before from Baloo and didn't want to take anyone's side. The fact was Kit actually liked Rebecca – other than Baloo, she was one of the few adults who had ever been kind to him. At the same time, Kit knew she and Baloo had their differences. They could be friendly toward each other at times, but that was the exception, not the rule. Kit tried to appease Baloo with the most neutral statement he could. "You gotta earn a living somehow," he said noncommittally.

It seemed to work. "Eh, you're right, Kit," Baloo said. "No point in ruining our vacation talkin' about work." Baloo put the plane on auto-pilot, leaned back in his chair, and kicked his feet up onto the dashboard. "Let's just sit back and enjoy ourselves!"

This time Kit was in complete agreement.

Higher for Hire

Hundreds of miles away, Rebecca Cunningham was sitting in her office, carefully focused on typing numbers into an adding machine. She was doing the monthly close of business. Having to close the accounting records every month was probably Rebecca's least favorite part of owning her own business, but over the last year she had developed a careful system to make the process less painful. The system consisted of organizing all the month's invoices and receipts into neat stacks on her desk. Each stack was meticulously organized so she could find what she needed instantly.

A few feet away on the floor of Rebecca's office, Molly, Rebecca's five-year old daughter, was focused on a task of a different sort: she was trying to decide whether her Lucy doll looked better in a pink dress or a blue dress.

One last number, Rebecca thought, and I should be done. She keyed the number in, added it to the rest, and grinned broadly at the result. "Hooray!" she exclaimed. She clapped her hands and jumped to her feet, almost knocking over all the carefully organized papers on her desk.

Molly looked up from her doll, startled. "Mommy? Are you okay?"

"Better than okay!" Rebecca joyously bounded over to her daughter and swept her up in her arms. "I just finished balancing the books and we just had our most profitable quarter ever!"

"Wow! Does that mean we're rich?"

I wish, Rebecca thought to herself. "No, not yet, pumpkin," she answered her daughter. "But Higher for Hire does have a little extra cash for once. I need to figure out what we're going to do with it!"

"I know!" Molly said excitedly. "We could buy the Frosty Pep factory! Then we could have Frosty Pep whenever we want!"

Frosty Pep was Molly's favorite brand of ice cream. Rebecca chuckled. Her daughter was already a corporate raider in the making. "We don't have quite enough for that," Rebecca said. "But it's a good suggestion!"

As she put Molly down, Rebecca realized that while Molly's suggestions were silly, she herself didn't have any idea what she was going to do with the money. As sad as it was to say, she had never found herself in this situation. This was literally the first quarter since she bought the business that it had ever turned a profit- and Rebecca considered it a minor miracle that she had even gotten to this point. When she purchased Higher for Hire from the bank over a year ago, it was in terrible shape. It had taken all of her business knowledge and ability to right the ship, a process that was still taking place. But what to do with the money? "Hmm…" Rebecca thought aloud. "I could just I could just put it in a savings account... but it wouldn't earn very much interest... Hmm..." Her voice trailed off as she became lost in thought.

Molly had already found something else to interest her. She balanced herself on a footstool, trying to reach the dial of the radio on Rebecca's desk. She clicked the radio on. "Time for Danger Woman!" she announced, hopping down from the footstool.

A radio announcer's voice filled the room. "Faster than a speeding rocket! More powerful than a 500 pound gorilla! Able to-" A second voice cut him off: "We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to bring you this breaking report!"

Molly's face fell. "Awww, but I want to listen to Danger Woman!" she complained. She clambered back onto the footstool to turn the radio off, but her mom stopped her.

"Hold on, sweetie. Mommy wants to hear this."

The second announcer continued: "Khan Industries has just announced plans to build a massive new shipyard just three miles north of Cape Suzette Harbor. The stock market has shot up as a result. Khan Industries' stock is up over fifty percent in response to the news!"

Rebecca's mouth fell open. "Fifty percent?" she repeated, astonished.

"The news also drove the general stock market up; all the major indexes are up three percent. Mr. Khan and his investors are sure to earn huge returns!"

A light bulb went off in Rebecca's mind and she snapped her fingers. "That's it!" she declared, turning the radio down.

"What's it?" Molly asked.

"I've just figured out what I'm going to do with Higher for Hire's extra cash. I'm going to invest it!"

Molly, the future financial wizard, was baffled. "Huh?"

"It works like this," Rebecca explained. "First you find an investment fund or money manager, then you give them your money and they invest it for you!"

Molly pondered this. "What happens to the money after it's inv…invest…"

"In-ves-ted," Rebecca enunciated. "After it's invested, it grows over time." She paused and added, "Uh, usually."

Molly's eyes widened. "You mean you could lose money?"

She's pretty smart for her age, isn't she? Rebecca thought to herself. She hesitated before answering. She didn't want her daughter to think she was throwing money away – after all, she was an experienced businesswoman who knew what she was doing - but what Molly just said was technically true. "Well, yes."

Molly frowned and looked at the doll she was holding. "I don't like that idea," she said, avoiding her mom's eyes.

Rebecca was quick to reassure her daughter. She leaned in closely to speak to her. "Oh honey, taking risks is just part of business! You can't make money without risking some of it first! After all, I spent a lot of money to buy this business...and look how much it's paying off right now!"

For a moment, Molly looked confused, but then seemed to understand. "I guess so," she said. "Okay, mommy!" She hugged her mom's leg in a show of support.

Rebecca decided to start her search for a money manager right away. She strode to her desk, removed a phone book from a desk drawer, and began to flip through it. "Let's see…money managers, money managers," she muttered, scanning through pages. "Here it is!" She placed the phone book open on her desk. The listing of money managers was not very long, only about half a page. That was okay. She only needed one – as long as he was good. Rebecca scanned through the listings. Maybe I can make a few calls and meet with some of them this afternoon, she thought.

Just then the front door of the office slammed open and Wildcat ambled in.

Molly perked up instantly. "Hi, Wildcat!"

"Oh hi, Molly-cat," Wildcat answered politely. There was an awkward pause; the distraction had caused Wildcat to forget why he had entered the office. He thought for a while, then finally remembered. "Oh yeah," he said. "Hey, Miss Cunningham, I finished loading all the cargo for this afternoon…no, wait, I missed one." He had noticed a large crate sitting all alone in the middle of the office. The skinny feline grunted as picked up the heavy box and carried it outside. Rebecca and Molly followed him.

Outside it was midday. The harbor and its surrounding businesses were alive with activity as usual. A bulky gray cargo plane sat next to the dock where the Sea Duck was normally parked. Its cargo hold was open. Molly and Rebecca could see that it was half-full of crates just like the one Wildcat was holding. Wildcat started down the dock, struggling to carry the box over to the plane. Since he was the only Higher for Hire employee besides Baloo who knew how to fly a plane, he had taken the responsibility of making deliveries while Baloo was on vacation. He wasn't really the best pilot; Rebecca was sure her blood pressure and heart rate had been elevated significantly over the last week. Fortunately the plane was only a rental.

Rebecca called out to her mechanic. "Wildcat, can you please not mix up the destinations like you did yesterday. Remember - the shipment of pillows is going to Inn Somnia and the expensive crystal glassware is going to Walla Walla Bing Bang!" She paused when saw the crate in Wildcat's hands. "Wait…which one is in that box?"

Wildcat carelessly tossed the crate into the plane. It disappeared into the cargo hold and Rebecca grimaced as she heard the crash of shattering glass.

"Sounded like the expensive crystal glassware," Wildcat answered sheepishly.

Rebecca buried her face in her hands as Molly giggled.

"Don't worry, Miss Cunningham," Wildcat said reassuringly. "They won't be able to tell that one's broken 'cause I loaded all the boxes like that."

Rebecca let out an exasperated sigh. "Wildcat," she said as politely as she could, "I do appreciate you making our deliveries while Baloo is on vacation. But you really need to be more careful!"

"Sorry, Miss C." Wildcat slammed the door of the hold shut and started for the cockpit.

"Now fly safely," Rebecca said. "You're my only pilot while Baloo is gone. And please take care of that plane, too. It's rented!"

Molly ran down the dock after Wildcat. "Can I come, Wildcat?" she asked excitedly.

Wildcat turned to face the tiny bear cub as he opened the cockpit door. "Sorry, Molly. I don't think your mom would like that. But I'll be back later this afternoon." He climbed into the plane and shut the door. The plane's engine rumbled to life and the propellers started to whir. Wildcat's head appeared in the pilot's side window, and he gave Molly and Rebecca a friendly wave as the plane started to move. Molly waved back enthusiastically.

"Don't worry, Miss Cunningham!" Wildcat shouted. She could barely hear him over the buzz of the engines. "The cargo's safe with me!"

"Wildcat, wait!" Rebecca called out. "Did you remember to lock the cargo hold this time?"

Wildcat didn't hear her. He had already turned away and the plane was taxiing through the water, picking up speed. The plane lifted out of the water but did not climb fast enough, clearing the mast of a sailboat in the harbor by just a few feet. Once airborne, the plane circled the harbor and headed for the opening in the cliffs surrounding the city. But halfway before it got there, Rebecca saw the door to the cargo hold flip open. She watched in disbelief as an avalanche of thirty or forty crates came tumbling out of the plane. A flurry of seagulls took flight and headed for cover as the crates landed in the harbor in a cascade of spectacular splashes.

There was an awkward silence.

"Uh-oh," Molly said softly. "His cargo went bye-bye."

"You know, Molly," Rebecca said, "I never thought I'd actually want Baloo to come back sooner from his vacation...but I think I do!"

Miniversal Corporation Headquarters

The second-tallest building in Cape Suzette, dwarfed only by Khan Tower, housed the headquarters of the Miniversal Corporation. The boardroom of the company was located high up in the skyscraper, on the fifty-seventh floor. The room was closed all day for a meeting; only members of the Miniversal Corporation's board of directors were allowed inside. Employees who passed by the closed doors of the boardroom could hear angry yelling from inside, which caused them to walk faster to get to where they were going.

The angry voice was that of Miniversal's CEO, Mr. Sultan. The second-wealthiest tiger in the world pounded his fist on the boardroom table, causing the expensive paintings lining the walls to shake. The twelve well-dressed corporate types seated on either side of the table shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

"This is unbelievable!" Sultan shouted. How could you all let this happen? What do I pay you for?" He threw down a copy of that day's Cape Suzette Herald onto the table. The headline declared: "Khan Breaks Ground on Shipyard, Stock Breaks Records!"

The youngest member of the board, a lion named Malcolm, spoke up nervously. "Sir, we're all sorry, but Khan kept the plan secret until it was announced today! Nobody knew except him!"

Sultan glared at the junior board member. "I don't want excuses," he said, lowering his voice. "I want solutions." Earlier in the day he had asked Malcolm to do some research on Khan's plans. "What do we know about this new shipyard of Khan's?" he asked.

Malcolm stood up. "Well…I've run some projections, and we estimate Khan's shipyard will be finished within the year. We could be looking at a loss of…" -Malcolm gulped visibly – "…two or three million per year."

Sultan pounded the table with his fist again. "Curse him!" he said in disgust. Sultan's dislike of Khan was well known among the board members. "I've watched us lose market share to Khan every year since I became chairman! We're always coming in second to him. Now this. If Khan manages to horn in on our shipping business in Cape Suzette it'll kill us. We need a plan."

No one said anything.

"Well?" Sultan said, his voice beginning to rise again. "Does anyone have anything resembling to a plan of action?"

The board members braced themselves for another assault on their eardrums, but then a skinny leopard at the corner of the table unexpectedly stood up. It was Perry, one of the senior members of the board. "Sir," Perry said, "I may have a viable plan."

"Go on."

Perry pulled several cardboard tubes from underneath the table. From these he removed several sets of blueprints, which he spread out onto the table for all to see. The board members murmured amongst themselves. The blueprints seemed to show some type of construction to be done in Cape Suzette Harbor. The Cape Suzette cliffs and the bay could clearly be seen in the drawings.

Perry stood next to Mr. Sultan and put his finger on the drawing of the bay. "This is Cape Suzette Harbor a year from now," he said. He moved his finger a bit farther down the paper, where all the construction was. "And this is Miniversal's brand new shipyard!"

Sultan raised an eyebrow. He seemed calmer now, and very interested in what Perry had to say. "You're proposing we build a shipyard of our own? Interesting."

Malcolm spoke again. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Perry... but is the market big enough to support two shipyards in this region?"

Perry grinned devilishly. "No, it's not! That's the beauty of my plan! If we build our shipyard in the right spot, ours will flourish and Khan's will fail! That's why I've selected Cape Suzette Harbor. It's located in a prime spot right next to the cliffs. Nobody will want to sail the extra three miles to Khan's shipyard."

"Are you forgetting Cape Suzette Harbor is all owned by small businesses?" Malcolm protested. "How can we construct a shipyard there if we don't own the land?"

Perry shrugged nonchalantly. "We'll just have to buy up all the property," he answered.

"Buying land from that many owners could take forever!" Sultan said, getting impatient.

"That's right," Malcolm agreed. "There's dozens of businesses in that area. What if some of them didn't want to sell? And, even if they did, do you have a clue how much all that land would cost?"

Sultan answered for Perry. "Millions." He turned to glance out the large picture window of the boardroom. Khan Tower could clearly be seen in the distance, rising above the sprawl of the city. "I imagine Kahn had the same problem." Sultan mused. "It's probably why he's not building there."

Perry was quite annoyed with Malcolm. The young upstart was clearly trying to discredit his plan in front of the boss. Who does he think he's dealing with here?Perry thought bitterly. The fact was he had already considered the cost and scope of his plan. He had already come up with a way to acquire the land that would be quick and wouldn't cost millions - but the other board members didn't need to know that right now. The important thing was, if his plan was successful, it would make Perry look like the savior of the company – and hopefully give him all the perks that entailed. But none of that would matter if Sultan rejected his plan. Thanks to Malcolm, Perry could sense the CEO was already losing interest in it. He had to act decisively.

"Sir," he said, raising his voice just a little, "With all due respect, I think we're out of alternatives here." He was relieved to see that Sultan did not argue with him, but just stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I can make it work," Perry continued, trying to sound convincing. "Just give me some time to get the land."

Finally Sultan sighed in a relenting way. "Fine," he said. "You have three weeks to acquire the land. No more."

Perry bowed his head slightly. "Thank you, sir. You won't regret it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some phone calls to make."

"Very well. Meeting adjourned."

Grateful that the meeting was over, everyone stood up and began to leave.