Chương 122: Book 4 - Chapter 10 B

The office on my plane was more than a luxury. At times like this it was a necessity.

"Evening, Tim," I said as he answered the phone.

"Hi, Boss. I've got a couple messages for you."

"I'm ready," I told him.

"Corning needs you to call about the increase in production you need."

"Got it," I said making a note on my pad of paper.

"Also McCabe at SFPP wants you to call."

"Did he say what about?" I asked.

"Just that it was important," Tim said.

"Alright, thanks Tim. Fax me a copy of the pipeline map. I'll call Corning first."

"You got it, Boss," he said. I hung up and dialed the number for Corning.

"Corning, Vice President Trull's office, how can I help you?"

"Hello, this is Dr John Cook. I'm returning Vice President Trull's call."

"Just a moment Dr Cook."

"This is Tim," he answered.

"Hi, Tim. John Cook. You needed to talk to me?"

"I'm reviewing your production order list, and it's just impossible." I leaned back in my chair, and closed my eyes.

"Tim, my agreement with Corning is that I get priority production for my products. Graphene felt filtration, graphene power lines, and graphene lighting has been a huge money maker for us both, but impermeable graphene felt and graphene fiber for concrete reinforcement are about to completely surpass those production numbers."

"I know it's a wonder material, Dr Cook. We just don't have the production capacity."

"Tim, you're not understanding," I told him.

"You need to increase your production capacity by a thousand times and make it global to meet future demand. I've got one little project going on right now, using it for pipelines. You've seen my projections for what I need in 1990, and 1991. That's only going to increase as the rest of the world jumps onto the bandwagon." He sighed.

"I'll see what I can do. Do you really need that much material?" he asked again.

"I do, Tim. Mountains of it for the next decade at a minimum. When the construction industry discovers they can leave the steel out and use graphene fiber instead? You'll be the exclusive supplier for the global $4 trillion construction industry. GrFRC is the end of the steel industry Tim, and every penny of that is going to go through Corning. You have the exclusivity of graphene felt, graphene sheeting and graphene cable. The question is what to do about GrFRC."

"What about Graphene Fiber Reinforced Concrete?"

"Technically," I told him.

"GrFRC isn't an agreed on product, it's a secondary application from modified graphene cabling. But if you keep me supplied at the rate I need and can expand global production I can consider it included. If not, then Tim, that massive $5 trillion industry will have to buy it from someone else. It's a game changer. GrFRC construction is faster, lighter, cheaper and lasts longer."

"Dr Cook, I'm going to look at those figures again. I know that GA has been manufacturing some for you. I think we're going to want to ensure exclusivity if it is as you describe."

"Thank you, Tim. I do also want to say congratulations on figuring out how to bond graphene sheeting with graphene felt. That smooth wall for piping is critical for the projects I'm going to be involved with over the next decades."

"We are pretty proud of that," he said.

"We completely rebuilt the sheet we grow the new layer on to give us a continuous tube, then bond it during the felt baking process."

"Well, it's inspired. I've got other calls to make. Let Jennifer know if you want to trade more stock for exclusivity, and start your international build out. France and Japan will be key production locations going forward, but they won't be the only places." I could hear him busy writing that down.

"Thank you for the call, Dr Cook."

"You're welcome," I said, and hung up. The next phone call was better.

"Dr Cook? Bill McCabe. Thanks for calling back."

"Not a problem," I told him.

"I'm in the air so have a free moment. What did you need to talk about?"

"We got the sample of this new material you want to use for the new Yuma to LA run," he said, growing agitated.

"Dr Cook, it's not rigid. We can't bury a line made out of this! It'll collapse and the ground above it will pinch it closed. Yes, it's incredibly strong and that new inner layer is amazing when it comes to reducing drag during pumping, but it just won't work!" Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"Bill, I'm going to tell you something," I said.

"When you hear it, everything will fall into place and you'll be too excited to stand still. Are you ready?"

"I'm listening Dr Cook, but I've got twice as many years of experience in this industry than you've even lived." I smiled. I was about to make a convert for the future.

"Bill, they can make the pipe one continuous length, however long you need it to be. No seams, no welds, no leaks. As far as installing it, it will be the quickest pipeline you've ever laid," I said. He started to say something, but I talked over him.

"Bill, you inflate the pipe with air. It becomes rigid, you dig a trench, strap it down and fill the trench with fiber reinforced concrete. The exterior bonds to the concrete. You bury the trench and you are done." I could hear the cursing on the other end of the line, and held the phone away from my ear.

"Are you still there?" he asked, practically panting.

"I'm here. Do you understand now?" I asked.

"I do, Dr Cook. This changes everything," he said a mix of stunned awe and excitement in his voice.

"It does. Welcome to the future Bill. I just got off the phone with Corning. My contract with them ensures I get priority material delivery. Right now the most important thing I need is a 36 inch pipe from Yuma to LA to move fuel West." I pulled the map from the fax machine, setting it on my desk. My pen holder had a selection of markers, and a I pulled a red one out and marked the route.

"West? That's ridiculous," he said.

"Fuel from LA flows East into the Southwest, It only moves West from El Paso to Phoenix." I drew a blue line from Yuma to Las Vegas and Yuma to Phoenix. Then a green line from Vegas to Salt Lake City.

"Make it so it can move fuel both directions," I told him, not willing to explain why West was the right direction.

"This will be our test line. We'll use it to demonstrate to the world how much better these pipes are."

"I'll call Corning right now and get that pipe ordered. You're right we need to test it. What's the pressure rating on that stuff?" he asked.

"At the thickness you're using? Not only is it impermeable even to hydrogen, it can take over 1000 PSI without worry. Our tests show you only need to inflate it above 90 to pour. Once you put it in concrete it'll achieve over 8, 000," I said.

"Now that I know how it is installed, I'll do a test on that sample we have. I want to know just how much pressure it can take." I drew a green line from Portland to Richmond.

"Do that, Bill. I know what it should be able to take, but I'm curious if Corning is making it to that standard. I'm also going to mail you a map. These are the first of the future routes for our new pipe."

"I'll be waiting for it, Dr Cook. I'll call your office as soon as I have a result."

"Thanks, Bill. I'm glad to have you managing this. There really isn't anybody with more experience."

"Thank you, Dr Cook. I'll try to give you the benefit of the doubt before discarding whatever wonder material you show up with next."

"I appreciate it," I told him. I hung up and looked at the map. I added a blue line from El Paso to Phoenix, passing through Tucson. Then a green line from El Paso to Pecos. I marked it up, red first, blue second and green third. I set it aside to mail it when I landed. McChord was its usual bustling self. Security this time had arranged a helicopter ride, which Max did not enjoy. The fifteen minute flight set us down at Satsop.

I had until the evening of the 18th before I needed to fly out to pick the men from AMROC early on the 19th.

"Dr Dean," I said, greeting the man with a firm handshake.

"It looks like you figured out inflatable forms." We both turned to where the massive dark black cloth held the incoming pour as cement trucks lined up to fill the next section of forms.

"It is working magnificently," he said.

"Come with me to the office, it's quieter and we can talk." I followed him into the two-story building that houses the offices for Satsop. We stopped at the conference room where a young woman was sitting. She looked up in surprise.

"Dr Dean and Dr Cook!" she exclaimed when she saw me behind Dr Dean.

"Can I get you anything? Anything to drink?" she asked jumping up.

"I'll have a Dr Pepper," I told her, and she scurried off before Dr Dean could say if he wanted anything. With a grin he motioned me into the seat at the table, and he took the one next to it. From our seats, the office windows looked out on the construction site.

"We've got two design teams working on the forms required and a build team that's just keeping up with them. As soon as we have a form ready we stick it in a plane and fly it to Elma."

"I thought that airport was too short for anything other than a Cessna," I told him. Dr Dean gestured toward the horizon with a calloused thumb.

"We invested. Even though it's a municipal airport, it is privately owned. We paid for a new runway last year. It still can't handle your monster, but it can take an L-100 Hercules just fine."

"That is good news. I bet it makes it easier on the commute as well. Are you flying back and forth in the company plane?"

"When I travel," he agreed, "which isn't often. I've got an RV here that I live out of most of the time. I'll be here right up until WNP-5 turns on. So the sooner, the better." I smiled at his attitude.

"I appreciate it," I told him.

"Everything still on target for the January 1st announcement?"

"It is. We should be done a month beforehand. What's the plan for the," he paused and looked around.

"The you know what?" I asked him, my smile growing wider.

"I'll find someone to take it, no problem there. I hope to beard that lion before July's over."

"There's not much to see from the outside," Dr Dean said, "that you can't see from here," he said as the young woman came bustling into the room with a cart loaded down with a big pitcher of ice, a dozen cups and a case of Dr Pepper.

"I brought your drink, Dr Cook!" she said happily as she started laying out everything on the table in front of us. Dr Dean noticed how she leaned low each time she placed something down in front of me. With a puzzled look he turned and glanced at me. I just gave a light shrug to his questioning look and returned to watching the free show. I didn't bother with a glass or ice, I just popped the top of the can and took a long swig.

"Thank you, Dierdre," Dr Dean said, his eyes firmly on her face.

"That will be all for now, please close the door on your way out so we can talk privately."

"Yes, sir," she said with a grin and a flushed face.

"I'm sorry," he started to say.

"It's fine," I told him.

"I'm finally being looked at as a man instead of a kid. This is just the beginning, women will be throwing themselves at me for the rest of my life. Not much I can do about it. I'll just be here for the afternoon." He chuckled at my brazen confidence.

"You're heading right back?" he asked. I pointed out the window as a large silver RV drove past the gate into the facility.

"I've got a couple days free, so I'm going to go up the coast and see the sights."