Clean Sweep - I

"Fiddlesticks! The internet is down again!"

Bill Squirrel was tearing the last hairs out of his tufted ears. "How can I get anything done?"

Bill was knee-deep in calculations for a new invention, but his research depended heavily on gathering information from the internet and double-checking things with other inventors online. Without the internet, he was stymied.

He hopped from one foot to the other in consternation. "The internet used to be far more reliable, but lately, it's gotten very spotty," he fumed.

The phone rang.

"Bother! Who's this interrupting me now?"

Bill looked at the name, took a deep, calming breath, and answered.

"Hi, Max," he said, controlling his irritation.

"Not interrupting, am I?" said the elephantine voice on the other end of the line.

"No. My work just ground to a halt with the internet being down—again!"

"What a coincidence! That's why I was ringing you, actually. I've been having terrible trouble with my internet as well, and I've noticed a big decline in the service over the past six months. I've been doing a bit of research into it."

"Oh? And what have you found out?"

"As far as I can tell, it's due to interference from space trash."

Bill furrowed his brow. "Really?"

"Yes, you know, all those capsules they shoot out into space with dead bodies—which I personally think is a whole scam. That's quite a lot of trash, and then there are old satellites and all the moon research—it all adds up."

"True, but I thought the government had collection programs to take care of the debris."

"They do, but, apparently, it's just not keeping up with demand. You know what the government's like—lots of corruption and funds for programs go missing."

"I see, so you think we could do better? What's your idea?"

"Well, I've been thinking about it, and I've got an idea for something that I think might work, but I need some help with the finer points." Max's voice was clear now, almost formal. "First and foremost, I need someone who can build a rocket to get my invention into outer space. I could also do with some help making it. So, I was wondering if you wanted to give me a hand? For the good of all personkind."

Bill grinned as if Max could see. "Well, we've nothing to lose by trying, and I love saving the planet. I'm in."

"Great," said Max. "I'll be over in a jiffy."

Five minutes later, there was a knock on Bill's door. Standing on the doorstep was the large frame of Max Elley. He was flapping his elephant ears with delight to see his friend.

"You were quick," said Bill.

"I was two blocks away when I rang you. I knew you'd say yes."

"That's true—the thought of making a rocket will always get my attention." Bill smiled with genuine happiness. "Do you want a cup of tea?

At least the tea-maker isn't controlled by the internet."

"Oh, do you have a machine for making tea? I'm impressed."

"Yes," giggled Bill. "It's called 'me putting the kettle on.' Technology can be overrated at times."

Max chuckled. "Very droll, Squirrel. You had me going there for a moment. Anyhow, let me show you my plans."

Max took some rolls of paper out of his leather briefcase and spread the drawings on the workbench in Bill's lab. The two of them bent over to study Max's invention.

Bill adjusted his high-tech monocle. "This is a very good idea, Max. With a few minor adjustments, I think this will work really well. Let's get down to business and get this thing made!"

The next two months were a buzz of making and adjusting.

The great day finally arrived, and Bill and Max were ready to send their space trash collector out into orbit. They had rented a warehouse with a big yard on the outskirts of the city, as they weren't sure how dangerous the metal would be when it fell out of the sky, so they needed a bit of space.

They also needed somewhere to launch their rocket from.

"Are you sure your rocket will work, Bill?"

"One can never be one hundred percent certain, but I'm pretty sure. We don't even know if your expanding Super-Scooper-Sky-Sucker is going to work either, although it looks great on paper."

"True, true." Max nodded his head up and down affirmatively.

They began the countdown.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven…"

As the rocket shot off out of the gantries, the two friends clinked their cups of tea together. The silver tube headed straight up into the early morning sky.

Max's eyes were wide and sparkling. "That's a spectacular sight, Bill.

Cheers!"

Bill sighed contentedly. "Yes, it is. I never tire of launching rockets."

The duo followed it with their eyes as far as they could before heading into the office in the warehouse to attend to the second part of the process.

This was Max's part of the idea. The rocket was just the means to get his trash collector up into space.

The two inventors sat at the control desk, and once the rocket had reached the desired height, Max pulled a lever that remotely unfurled a large expanding inverted pyramid in outer space.

"Adding that elongated cone to pierce through the stratosphere was a good idea of yours, Bill," said Max.

"Yes. It's necessary. Otherwise, most of the metal would just burn up on reentry."

"Now for the brilliant part," said Max without a hint of humility, and he pressed a button that turned on the suction. Out in space, the upside-down pyramid turned into an enormous and powerful vacuum cleaner.

Bill grinned broadly at his friend. "That was clever of you to power it using solar energy—there's an unlimited supply of sun above the clouds."

"Yes, solar is definitely the power of the future, in my opinion," said Max.

Bill turned his attention back to the controls. "Right, we'd better turn on the solar-powered electromagnets now to get the debris back down to the ground."

Max patted Bill on the back with a large hand. "Your super-sun-absorbent solar panels are an amazing invention too."

Bill cleared his throat and puffed up his chest a bit. "Yes, they do work rather well—even on a cloudy day. I've patented them already, and I think they could be used all over Nation-X as they're not dependent on full sun."

The magnets were set up in the warehouse yard and were surrounded by piles of old mattresses. Slowly the magnets began to hum. The noise grew in intensity, and then came a crash as the first shard of metal from outer space landed. Despite the mattresses they had laid out, it made an almighty racket.

Max covered his ears. "I suppose we'll get used to the noise—I hope the neighbors do too."

"Well, luckily, this is an industrial park, so there are no homes nearby."

There was a second crash, even louder than the first.

"Wow! That was a big piece—the magnets were a good call. All the debris seems to be landing where we want it," said Max.

Bill and Max got busy outside. Between crashes and as the debris cooled, they dragged the lumps of twisted metal into the warehouse and began stacking them in a pile that grew and grew.

The crashes continued outside.

"There's a lot of space trash coming down," said Max.

Bill ground his teeth a bit. "Yes, much more than I was bargaining for."

The two friends kept busy throughout the day and over the weekend. On Sunday evening, they turned off the Super-Scooper-Sky-Sucker and the electromagnets, and looked at each other with tired but bright eyes.

Bill stretched and rubbed the aching muscles in his lower back. "Well, I think we've earned a drink—this has worked really well."

"A bit too well," said Max looking around at the enormous pile of metal.

"That's a lot of space trash, and I'm hurting in places I didn't know existed."

"Yes, the work is heavy, and we have accumulated quite a pile of metal."

Max took his glasses off and gave them a polish. "What should we do with it?"

Bill winked. "I think we should leave it here for now and go to Monica's bar for a beer and a think."

"Great idea."