“Um, sure.” Robertson turned to verify that his wife was presentable, then remembered that she wasn’t there.
Naimi hesitated. “This is inconvenient. Perhaps tomorrow would be better?”
“No, please. Come in,” Robertson said, noticing the man’s rugged complexion and lifeless, black eyes. He motioned to an upholstered chair by the window. “Excuse me for just a minute.”
Naimi sidestepped a suitcase on the floor. It was stuffed with T-shirts.
Robertson emerged from the bathroom in a white terrycloth robe. “May I get you something?” Naimi declined. Robertson opened a small bottle of Perrier. “Faiz and I share office space at Georgia Tech. Sometimes we even cover each other’s lectures. How do you know him?”
“I work for the Minister of Petroleum and Mineral Resources for the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.” Naimi sat back. “If I may speak freely? There is a certain business proposition.”
Robertson frowned deeply. “Proposition?”
“Well, you may know that our Kingdom produces one quarter of the world’s oil, with new resources being discovered faster than current reserves can be used. Our field at Shaybah is already the fourth largest. We are also very proud of the fact that at one dollar per barrel, our production costs are three times less than the world average. Dr. Al-Aran is currently assisting us at Shaybah with an Arab-Exxon development venture. He is in charge of laying out new airport runways. I’m afraid the desert is quite inhospitable.”
“Faiz has a PhD in operations research from George Washington University,” Robertson noted. “He’s an expert in that area. What’s it got to do with me?”
“We wish to evaluate a new form of surveillance at some of our strategic production sites, including security cameras that are reliable, highly mobile, and easy to operate. These flying drones of yours — when Faiz described the project, it piqued my curiosity.”
“You want to use drones for security?”
“Evaluate,” Naimi quickly corrected. “On a platform, literally. We need something that has the ability to position itself atop strategically placed platforms and observe production operations. We wish to determine if your drones can accomplish this.”
“What kind of platforms?”
“Observation stands attached to existing equipment and framing. Derrick steel, for example — both flat and round. We wish to evaluate the possibility of deploying a series of moveable sentries that can quickly reach certain high-risk areas and monitor our assets. Not only in Shaybah, but potentially all our fields. But this must be done very quietly and without drawing attention.”
“I’m confused,” Robertson said suspiciously. “What’s wrong with traditional options like good old security cameras?”
“Intolerable,” Naimi said with a dismissive wave. “Far too permanent and thus vulnerable to sabotage. And I’m afraid a human military presence is also something we cannot afford.”
Robertson misinterpreted the comment, and his frown grew even deeper. The Saudis weren’t exactly known for frugality.
“What about planes or helicopters?”
Naimi smiled politely. “Professor Robertson, I appreciate your suggestions and concerns, but you don’t understand. The Royal Family is committed to solving this rather delicate problem of wide-area security in the quietest way possible. We cannot abide armed patrols or the engine noise of military aircraft littering the skies above the Kingdom. It’s an extremely sensitive situation, particularly with the current value of petroleum.
“You must know that the Saudi government, under the leadership of the Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques, his Royal Highness King Abdullah, must manage the region with the utmost reverence. It is related to appearance, but frankly, there is another reason. One that is somewhat unpleasant.
“You may think it unusual for Arabs to be concerned with terrorism, but certain organizations have made repeated threats regarding Saudi oil. Some believe it is the largest prize in the world for the West to capture and terrorists to destroy. We must take these threats seriously. Dr. Al-Aran has explained that your drones have some dexterity as well as a small profile?”
Robertson sipped his water thoughtfully. Now he understood. This man was referring to the surge of Middle Eastern government overthrows, a.k.a the Arab Spring. The Royal Family was running scared.
“Very limited dexterity. But we’re already negotiating with NASA. I wouldn’t be able to look at any other offers until our position with the space program is finalized.”
“Completely understandable,” Naimi acknowledged. “But certainly you would be agreeable to a trial evaluation for a brief period — say, thirty days? Something that would allow us to see these drones in action.”
“I’m not sure that’s possible,” Robertson countered. “I’d have to talk to my university. They would have to approve something like that.”
“I mean no disrespect, Professor, but there is a sense of urgency in this matter. And with you here and unavailable for conference, well, Dr. Al-Aran has already conversed with the appropriate trustees. They were most enthusiastic in expressing preliminary support for such a trial. Arrangements have already been made on your campus in Atlanta for us to acquire the necessary system components. If we like the results, then—”
Robertson’s eyebrows went up. “What did you say?”
“We’ve arranged for a point of transfer.”
“No, before that. You said something about trustees. What trustees?”
Naimi gently stroked his mustache. “I recall the name Garton. Yes, that’s it. Professor Al-Aran has had direct conversation with Dr. Winford Garton. He was most enthusiastic about the prospects.”
He would be, Robertson thought. Garton was Vice Chair of Georgia Tech Research Corporation, a non-profit entity that secured and managed research funds. He was also the drone project’s primary sponsor. He’d sell freshmen on the black market if it meant a grant commitment.
“Okay, let’s back up. You apparently don’t need my permission, so why are you even here? It’s obvious that this is a done deal.”
Naimi joined his hands, prayer-like. “Michael, we need your expertise, or that of your program staff, particularly with technical nuances and hands-on training. We prefer to borrow, say, four or five drones for a very brief period, evaluate them on site at the Shaybah location, and make a final decision. We certainly wish to keep you in the loop, so to speak, at least in the short term.
“Of course, there will be compensation made to your campus research facility. An initial down payment. If we like the system, we will make a second payment that will constitute a full purchase. You will obviously retain patent rights and may serve as a general advisor during the trial. The Kingdom is very flexible in these matters. If we decide the drones are not feasible for airborne security of our oil fields, then we shall return them immediately, and you may keep the deposit. In any event, your university gains ten million US dollars. Five million have already been issued.”
Robertson lifted the Perrier to his lips but didn’t drink. His mind was trying to comprehend what he just heard. The sudden gasp of air brought on a coughing gag.
“Dollars? Just to perch a flying camera on an oil rig? Are you craz… er, serious?”
Naimi thrust his hand between the window sheers and peered outside. “Again, you must forgive me. I am an honorable man and do not wish to appear condescending. Saudis are taught at a very young age never to boast of wealth. At current trends, our Kingdom’s net oil export revenue for the current production year is projected at 300 billion in US dollars. I can assure you of two things: the monetary aspects of this arrangement can be compared to a purchase of”—he glanced at the suitcase—“a vacation souvenir. It is indeed trivial, and I am indeed not crazy.”