Chương 92: Book 3 - Chapter 16 A

I returned to the US at the end of April to meet with the team for shooting training in Colorado Springs. I remained undefeated and a sure pick for the '88 Olympics.

"Hey! Deadshot!" was hollered across the shooting range, and I turned to find one of the coaches.

"What's up coach?" I asked, ignoring my new nickname. It was at least better than 'Billionaire Boy.'

"The office has a question for you," he said, and turned back towards the staff offices. I arrived to find a small group of people waiting and a newspaper with my hated moniker across the front. I sighed and took a seat at the table they were at.

"Dr Cook, we were wondering if you would be willing to help out some of our less fortunate shooters," she said, beginning the shakedown.

"Do you know who's going on the Olympic team yet?" I asked. They looked between each other, not sure what to say. I knew it wasn't finalized, at least officially.

"We have a good idea of who will make it. You're obviously at the top of the list with your nearly perfect scores every time."

"Alright," I said.

"I'll give you 500."

"That's not very much, but it's appreciated," she said. I heard a snort behind me, Matt had followed me in. I turned and he was pulling out my checkbook.

"John's giving you $500, 000," he said as he wrote out the check.

"Oh, that's too much!" she said.

"Probably," I agreed.

"But hopefully you won't need to ask for money again." After getting back to San Diego, in mid-May, I had a meeting with Jennifer, Dr Como, Lars Calvo and the American Wireless lawyer. Jennifer had flown out to be part of the conversation.

"American Wireless is being sued," she began.

"Of course they are," I responded tiredly.

"If you can't compete because your competitor out-innovates you, then you sue them."

"Some cities are claiming we are breaking their franchise laws and harming the existing cable companies," Dr Como explained.

"We probably are, but the courts will side with us," I told them. Then I asked the CEO, Lars Calvo, "How is the rollout going?"

"Motorola is still having trouble meeting production goals, but that's just making people want it more," he said.

"We've covered most of the West Coast so far and are moving east." I nodded.

"The term is hunger marketing: it's hard to get so it's more valuable."

"The six-year nationwide rollout plan has been shifted to eight years. We will hit all the major population centers in the six-year time frame, though," Lars said.

"Good, a slow steady rollout to meet production bottlenecks," I commended.

"There has been some talk about purchasing a few cable channels to reduce expenses," he mentioned.

"I want to be in on that conversation. There are a few channels that need to be added that just don't exist right now. Heartland Media will be creating some new channels this year."

"Okay. I'll pass that along to Nick," Jennifer said.

"SyFy has done amazingly well. Record viewers with its release of the widescreen Star Wars in May," Dr Como told me.

"That will be a yearly event. It won't show anywhere else," I confirmed.

"It has actually driven customer acquisition, as other cable companies haven't been willing to pick SyFy up yet," Lars said.

"That'll change," I predicted.

"But exclusive content is always good. Getting access to a pipe for a cable station is hard. If I didn't have American Wireless, Heartland would be facing a much bigger struggle." In June, I finally sat back down with Dr Agnew and Dr Dean and we reviewed the designs of the pebble-bed and thorium reactors.

"I'm ready to move forward with Satsop," I told them.

"Do you want to build a thorium plant, or the diamond pebble-bed?" Dr Dean asked.

"I want to combine them: a thorium diamond pebble-bed using CO2 as the working medium."

"I'll get the two design teams integrated so we can start the design work immediately," Dr Agnew said. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

"What are the next steps?" I asked. Dr Dean had the answer.

"Regulatory permission, a construction loan and acquisition of the site."

"Then proceed," I said.

"Full steam ahead!" I got the laugh I was expecting. I headed to Tulsa at the end of June and then on to Fountainhead Resort for birthday celebrations.

"Happy Birthday!" I said, giving Samantha a big hug.

"You too!" she said, returning it.

"So, you've done an amazing job with the World Youth Council."

"Thanks! I wish you had shown up for it. I think we could have used your advice," she said seriously, sitting back into the pool lounger. I pulled up a chair so I could face her.

"Really? What's the issue?" Samantha sighed, fiddling with a loose thread on the chair.

"The declaration. It was unanimous, but I still feel sick about it. Last year our topic was food scarcity—everyone gets that. We demanded that the 'grownups' move beyond the politics and make sure the world's hungry were fed. We released our declaration, and..." She trailed off, frustration clear in her voice.

"And nothing. The headlines moved on. The donations slowed down. It's the same, John. Exactly the same." She paused, looking out over the water, then back to me.

"And this year, it was the nuclear issue. We called the final document 'The Right to a Future.'" She looked me in the eye.

"It basically demands that the US and USSR sign the INF treaty immediately, stop all nuclear testing and commit to deep, verifiable cuts on the long-range missiles." Her voice dropped to a whisper of disappointment.

"I'm worried we're just doing exactly what the grownups do. We declare the problem must be solved, we feel good about our moral stance and then we move on to the next crisis without ever actually fixing the first one. What's the point of our moral authority if it has no lever?" I nodded, running a hand over my chin.

"It is the ultimate failure of the grown-up world, isn't it? Building a future that might not exist." I leaned closer.

"You're asking if the moral high ground is politically useful." I looked at Mattie as she cannonballed into the pool for the fifth time, then back at her.

"The reason you failed on food scarcity isn't that your declaration was wrong. It is that the system you were talking to is designed to absorb moral shocks and keep running. You were trying to stop a global, structural problem with a piece of paper. You hit a wall."

"So, what about this one?" she challenged.

"The bombs?"

"The bombs are different," I said quietly.

"They are also a structural problem, but they are driven by just two things: fear and technology. And right now, in 1987 today, the grownups have run themselves into a corner where both of those levers are primed to be moved." I explained as I shifted under the canopy to block the glare from the summer sun.

"You are right to feel like a voice without a lever. But sometimes the job of the voice is just to give the person with the lever the courage to pull it. On the food problem, no one felt like they had a personal lever. On the nuclear problem, every person in that room—every person in the world—is a potential casualty. Your declaration isn't just moral authority, Samantha. It is survivor's leverage." I looked at her seriously.

"Keep pushing that moral lever. Don't worry about the politics. The politics are about to change anyway." Samantha's eyes widened slightly, recognizing the subtle shift in my tone.

"Change how?"

"The people in charge of those levers—in Moscow and Washington—they're about to run out of money and run out of excuses," I said, a faint smile touching my lips.

"They're going to realize that keeping the peace is a lot cheaper than threatening to end the world. You're not wasting your breath. You're giving the inevitable a push."

"You think things will change?" she asked.

"I know that I'll read the declarations each and every time. You've given me goals for the future. In the coming years, I hope to do what I can to address each and every item the World Youth Council brings up." She smiled happily.

"I just wonder what you would have said if you were here. Next year the topic is pollution."

"I probably won't ever have time to join. But, you know me, I like fixing problems over discussing them. That's your job," I teased.

"That's too bad. Now what did you get me for my birthday?" she asked, seriousness tossed aside in expectation of presents. We walked together back from the beach where we had worked together to light the fire tornado newly installed there. She had an arm comfortably around my shoulder. As we got to where our parents were watching, we separated to stand by our families to view the amazing spectacle.

"So you're a little young to have a girlfriend," Dad whispered as I moved to his side.

"Don't worry Dad. Samantha is just a friend," I told him. He glanced over to look at her, then shook his head.

"I wonder if she knows that," he said softly. It was weird being back in my old bedroom after my birthday. My old 286 still sat on the table at the side of the room. The Mac next to it had a dust cover. The old Apple //e might still be in Mattie's room, I'd never see it again regardless. Mom had wanted me to stay for a bit after my birthday. I needed to cover stuff with people here so I didn't mind staying. I was sitting in my Eames chair by the window that looked out on my favorite Tulsa building.

I was just finishing a charcoal sketch of a woman holding a baby. I particularly liked how I captured the sheer joy and love the new mother had. There was a brief knock and my Mom stuck her head in. She was holding the portable phone, its long silvery antenna fully extended.

"You have a phone call, John," she said. I quickly added 4127 to the bottom of the paper and handed it to her, taking the phone from her as she examined the artwork.

"Hello, this is John," I said.

"Hi Boss, Nick Elseworth. I'm hoping that you can come visit soon."

"Sure, Nick, I'm in town and I planned on stopping by."

"Can we make a day of it on Monday? I've got some important things to go over with you."

"That sounds fine. I'll meet you at your office Monday morning," I told him. I hung up and looked at Mom as she held the artwork to the light coming through the windows of my room.

"You really missed out on a career in art, John. I just don't understand why you seem so obsessed with this one woman." I smiled.

"Just put it with the rest," I told her.

"It'll make sense someday, I'm sure." She lowered it and looked at me seriously.

"So you are working Monday?"

"Yup, probably most days all next week. I'll head back to San Diego next weekend."

"Your cousin has a birthday on the 18th, do you mind staying until at least the 20th?" I gave her a considering look. I knew she didn't really care about my cousin's birthday. He was going to be six, so it wasn't anything special.

"Okay Mom," I told her.

"I'll fly out on Monday instead."

"Good. Now if you aren't doing anything, how would you like to help me in the garden upstairs?" I stood and stretched.

"Sure, let's go pull some weeds."