It was late afternoon when the small aircraft drew up to the gate at LAX terminal one. Astrid’s Aunt Penelope was waiting to greet them. She looked enough like Astrid and Gloria to have been their older sister, though her hair was black unlike the strawberry blond of the two cousins.
“I’m so glad I got to see you before you left on your adventure,” she told Astrid. “I just wish you could stay and spend the week with Gloria and me. We’re going to make our own adventures.”
“Well, Christopher and I have been planning this trip for weeks,” said Astrid.
“Oh, I know. I’ve been keeping an eye on @MaxximWatch.”
“What’s @Maxximwatch?”
“Oh, it’s online news and rumors about all us Maxxims, but mostly about you.”
“Who would care what she’s up to?” wondered Gloria.
“Yeah, who would care what I’m up to?”
“About two point three million people apparently,” said Penelope, laughing. “You do know you’re on the cover of Popular Technology this month, don’t you?”
Gloria crinkled her nose.
“Don’t feel bad,” Penelope told her. “You’re in all the magazines, in the hoverbike ads.”
Astrid and her aunt talked for about fifteen minutes. All the while Gloria waited impatiently. Then they noticed the arrival of a tall man in the dress of a professional chauffeur, carrying a sign that said “Miss Maxxim.”
“I guess that’s our ride,” said Astrid. She and Christopher said goodbye to Penelope and Gloria too, and a hearty farewell to Dennis Brown who was waiting just inside the terminal gate. Then they followed the chauffeur through the crowded airport and out into an extremely long black limousine.
“Mr. Bauer’s home is about forty minutes away,” said the driver, as he held the door open for them. “Make yourselves at home. There are sodas in the refrigerator.”
“Nice,” said Christopher, opening a can of Coke. “This is my first time in a limo. How about you?”
“I’ve been in a couple,” said Astrid. “None of them were this long, I don’t think.”
The Bauer home was a huge mansion behind a gated ivy-covered wall, high up on a hill overlooking much of Los Angeles.
“What does this guy do for a living?” asked Christopher as the car came to a stop. “Is he a movie producer?”
“He’s an investment banker.”
Mr. Bauer, whom Astrid had met only briefly once before, had been an investor in Maxxim Industries for years and had advised her mother in the past. He waited, smiling at the front door for them. He was of medium height and heavy set— one would have more likely called him beefy or stout than fat. The greying hair around his ears contrasted with the bald dome on top of his head. He was dressed in a suit, but without the tie.
“Hello there, Astrid! So fantastic to see you again! You’re about twice as tall as I remember.”
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Bauer. This is my friend Christopher Harris.”
“Hello Chris.” Bauer shook both of their hands violently. “You must both call me Max. Come along inside. The misses is literally dying to meet you.”
“I hope not literally,” said Christopher, who had never much liked being called Chris.
Astrid shot him a glance as they followed Mr. Bauer into his home. The very large entry way led into a very large living room. Both rooms were filled with furniture, all of which was very ornate and looked very expensive. The walls were covered with art. Compared to Astrid’s home, where with the exception of the family room it was not unusual for a room to have only a single picture on the wall, this looked like a museum or an art showroom.
“Here’s my jewel now,” said Mr. Bauer, as his wife appeared from a back room.
Mrs. Bauer was a gorgeous African American woman at least six inches taller than her husband and about half his age. She hopped over to Astrid and took her hand excitedly.
“I’m so so glad to meet you, Astrid! I just think you’re fabulous!”
“Thanks. This is my friend Christopher.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” said Christopher. “You look really familiar.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Christopher, though I confess Astrid, I was hoping you would bring your robot girl, since I played one in a movie once.”
“Invasion of the Robo-Girls!” said Christopher, snapping his fingers. “I knew you looked familiar.”
“Yes, that was a great film,” said Mrs. Bauer. “I’m not acting anymore though. I might like to direct.”
“She’s very talented,” said Mr. Bauer. “Come, come. Let’s all go into the dining room. Dinner is almost ready, I think.”
The dining room was just as fancy as the rest of the house and featured a huge table that stretched across it from end to end. The four of them took their places in the middle, Christopher and Astrid on one side, and the Bauers on the other. No sooner had they sat down, than two servers brought out appetizers.
“I understand your flight doesn’t leave for Australia until just past midnight, Astrid,” said Mr. Bauer. “Am I correct?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Then we can eat and then talk. I hate talking business while I eat. It’s not good for the digestion. It is business that you wanted to talk over, isn’t it?”
“It is,” replied Astrid.
“Fine. Fine.”
After a fine dinner of salmon steaks, rice pilaf, and raspberry tart, Astrid, Christopher, and the Bauers returned to the living room. Mr. Bauer folded his hands in his lap and looked at the girl inventor.
“So Astrid, what’s on your mind?”
“What do you think of Maxxim Industries?” Astrid returned his question with her own.
“I think it’s a fascinating company.” He smiled. “There really isn’t another like it in the world. The stock is slipping right now, but that’s allowing me to buy quite a bit at a very good price.”
“So you think the stock price will rise again?”
“That’s what I’m betting on,” he said. “I’ve been adding more of it to my own portfolio and have been advising clients to do the same. Still, I don’t think the company is as… focused as it could be.”
“That’s a good word— focused,” said Astrid. “Do you know we make dolls? Dolls and doll clothing. They make a profit— just barely. We have a huge toy division with hundreds of products, but about 90% of the profit comes from a half a dozen cool electronic toys. We sell cameras. They make a profit too, probably because the R&D costs were paid off years ago. But we don’t sell very many of them. We aren’t camera specialists and the market is too small to be in it and not be a specialists.”
“Maxxim has always sold cameras,” said Christopher.
“We used to sell refrigerators and radios when my father was a kid,” said the girl inventor. “And when my grandfather was a kid, the company sold firearms and typewriters. We don’t make any of those things anymore.”
“What do you think Maxxim should be doing, Astrid?” asked Mr. Bauer.
“We need to stop doing everything that’s mediocre. Everything Maxxim makes should be cool.”
“Like the hoverbike!” shouted Mrs. Bauer suddenly.
“Exactly,” said Astrid. “And we need offsite production facilities. We can make toys and build aircraft at the Maxxim campus, but there simply aren’t enough workers in the surrounding towns to produce millions of hoverbikes and billions of batteries. And I think we can sell millions of hoverbikes and billions of batteries.”
“You really do need to make them faster,” said Mrs. Bauer. “I’m on the waiting list for a hoverbike. Max ordered me a lovely red one. Do you think I could be on a hoverbike ad?”
“I’d love to see you on a hoverbike ad,” said Astrid, thinking of the current ads featuring her cousin Gloria.
“Me too,” agreed Christopher. “Do you think they could make you up like your character in Invasion of the Robo-Girls?”
“Astrid, I like the way you think,” said Mr. Bauer. “You and I will have to talk more in the coming weeks. I can see us becoming very valuable to one another.”
“I agree,” said Astrid. “I have a question though. If you’re buying Maxxim stock and others are too, then why is the stock price going down.”
“Somebody is selling,” said Mr. Bauer. “They’re not selling just a few shares either. They’ve dumped millions of shares in the past few weeks.”
“Do you think you could find out who it is?” wondered Astrid.
“I can try.”