Chương 98: Book 3 - Chapter 18 B

I knocked on Nick's door at Heartland Media.

"Come in!" he said, so I stuck my head in.

"Oh! Hey Boss. You're back, congratulations." I stepped fully into the room, and took a seat in the chair facing his desk.

"So you're probably wondering why Heartland Media wasn't a part of the TWP merger," I said. He took a breath and pushed it out his nose as he considered what he was going to say.

"Yeah, I did wonder. I'm sure there's a good reason," he eventually said.

"There is. If Heartland was part of it, the antitrust approval that we are still waiting on would have taken longer, maybe not even have passed. There's still a chance that we'll have to sell HBO and Cinemax."

"Really?" he asked.

"Really," I said.

"Plus, I couldn't find a way to give it the value Heartland really has. It's too new."

"I got WBN up and running," he said with a proud smile.

"With perfect timing as well. The way they ran the stock market crash and the tsunami that followed was excellent. It made the station a power in all things economic. I had it in my hotel room in New York and basically left it running the whole time. Other people did too, I could hear it as I walked down the hallways."

"I'm happy to hear that. It really was perfect timing," he said, sitting a little straighter.

"The good news I wanted to give you direct," I said.

"I control 70% of TWP. Heartland now has all the Time and Warner cable systems as well as American Wireless to launch new stations on. They'll be aggressively buying up the small cable operators so viewer access is only going to go up."

"That is good news. That'll improve profits immediately," he said.

"And the bad news," I said, and he slumped in his chair, his worry visceral.

"I can't promote you higher than CEO, so you'll just have to be happy with a big bonus for a job well done," I said with a big smile. He looked like he wanted to throw something, before he burst out into a big laugh. When he calmed back down again he took a deep breath.

"Lars warned me that you like to tease," he said, leaning back in his chair, finally relaxed.

"I only tease my favorites. Plus, things have changed so I have four new targets for you."

"He warned me about you dropping in and dumping more work in my lap as well," he said, pulling a legal pad out to take notes.

"Target number one. CBN, the Christian cable channel. It's too profitable for Pat Robertson. He's on the verge of losing his tax-exempt status. See what he'll sell it for, and turn it into a full family friendly channel. We'll call it Family Channel or something like that. Not for kids, but stuff parents would enjoy watching with the kids, and that kids would enjoy too.

"Target number two. TNN, The Nashville Network. Heartland is the perfect partner for them. I don't even know if they understand the demographic they are targeting. It's primarily southern young men. You don't need to acquire them completely, just buy a portion and offer it with our other stations. Help them see that their demographic can be all young men, not just the country loving crowd."

"That makes sense. I'm not sure if I've ever even heard of that channel."

"Target number two point five. Discovery Channel. They won't sell either, but bring them aboard and offer our access to the networks. We'll acquire them completely eventually."

"That's a lot, Boss. Oh, I need to tell you, when I got FNN I also got another station they owned, The Learning Channel. I'm thinking of using it for the Nature Channel we talked about. When there's enough content we can spin the Nature Channel out on its own."

"Excellent idea. Make sure you reject anybody who wants to do ancient aliens, psychic discoveries or anything like that. Real science only on that channel."

"Got it. Now what was target three?" he asked.

"Target three. Go get all the cartoons that Ted Turner has. He's hurting for money. Remind him I'm 11 and tell him I love cartoons, he'll believe it. Then do the same with Viacom, MCA, everybody else. We'll launch the Cartoon Network."

"Buy them, or just license them?"

"It depends on how bad he's hurting after the crash. The sooner you get there the better chance you have for a full acquisition. I'd prefer to own completely."

"Will we start making cartoons?" he asked.

"No, but Marvel will. They've got that library that's been showing on Saturdays on SyFy."

"Perfect," he said.

"So two new channels, and two new partial acquisition partnerships. Still, that's a lot of hours for cartoons 24/7. What if there aren't enough?"

"Saban," I told him.

"What's Saban?"

"The ultimate in low-cost foreign cartoons, dubbed and remixed. He can provide hours and hours of cheap content. Marvel will bring the premium stuff." He hurriedly made his notes, then looked up, ready. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Target number four. The Travel Channel. Carl Icahn is in financial trouble after the crash. It is new, and now financially weak, so it'll be cheap. It'll make a great partner next to Food TV. The food travel show I gave you can be split into several pieces. A US version, and an international version. Send the couple and the lone guy out together to save expenses, but have them film different stuff in the same cities. Leave the guy on Food TV and put the cutesy couple on The Travel Channel."

"Good cost savings. We'll have to air the shows on different schedules so no one notices that they are always at the same location," he said. I shrugged, thinking it wasn't likely that anybody would notice, or care.

"So throw that into the three-year plan," I joked. He laughed.

"No problem Boss. Food TV is on schedule for July '88, with the Kitchen Stadium ready to premiere during the holiday period between Christmas and New Year's."

"Excellent. Keep up the good work. I've got a couple other things to wrap up then I'm off to the Olympics."

"Good luck, Boss. Drop in anytime. With a week's notice!" he hollered after me as I walked out the door. I couldn't help but chuckle. I flew to Washington, landing at Olympia with Grandpa's Gulfstream. I was looking forward to getting my new plane, but when I did I'd have to land at McChord as that was the closest I could get.

The new aircraft was on order and would be roomy, but I was going to be stuck only being able to land at the airports that had enough runway and could handle the weight when the new plane arrived. I met Dr Agnew and Dr Dean. Together we drove forty-five minutes from Olympia to the Satsop nuclear facility.

"So, how much did this cost?" I asked.

"We paid $150 million for the facility and 1, 600 acres. They also required that we sign an exclusive contract. Any power produced here has to be sold to Washington Public Power Supply System. They call it WPPSS, or sometimes 'Whoops' after their near bankruptcy." We toured the site, but I was the only one willing to climb the staircase to the top of the completed cooling tower. Even Matt decided it was too much work for no benefit. The view was nice and it was a fun thing to do.

I came back down quickly and was breathing a bit heavily.

"So, how long to build the experimental PBD?" I asked as they watched me catch my breath in amusement.

"We're calling it the ISPBR—intrinsically safe pebble-bed reactor. We don't have a build time yet. It's designed as a 2, 000 megawatt system and will be installed in that building there," he said, pointing at the nearly completed reactor building, WNP-3.

"Tell me again about what makes it intrinsically safe," I said trying to think about how I'd describe the reactor when it went online to the media.

"It uses CO2 as the working medium. The fissionables are encased in diamond spheres, about the size of tennis balls. In the event of an emergency shutdown, the bottom of the fission chamber opens, and they all drop into an underground tank. It's big enough that they all lay flat in a single layer. That stops the reaction."

"What about a leak of the CO2?"

"It might release a little carbon-14 if there was a leak."

"Which is already naturally occurring," I said.

"Right, but can still be dangerous in large amounts. But there won't be, even if it lost full containment it would be minimal."

"Where does the carbon-14 come from?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.

"I can't think of a method of transforming CO2 into carbon-14."

"It's from trace contamination of atmospheric nitrogen in the CO2."

"Okay, that makes sense," I said.

"Are you coming back to review the design?"

"It sounds just like what we worked out in June. Send me the details, I'll look it over. I'm headed to Colorado Springs next. It is almost time for the team selection."

"Are you really participating in the Olympics?"

"That's the plan. You'll have to continue the build-out on your own."

"What about the high-temp converter?" Dr Dean asked. I gave him a stern look.

"Don't talk about that anywhere but the secure room at GA."

"Oh! Right. Sorry," he said sheepishly. I was out of time to continue working or managing any of my companies. I had been called up for the Olympic shooting team and was required to report to the Colorado Springs training camp for the nine months leading up to the Olympics in Seoul. I checked my luggage one last time, and verified that the Compaq Deskpro 386 was securely packed. I would have hours and hours of downtime, I wasn't going to waste it without a project to work on.

It had been two years since my last submission to a Mathematics Journal. I'd be returning to Modularity Theorem. By March of 1988 the shooting team had coalesced. I was up for the seven men's only events. I wasn't the tallest, strongest or loudest, but I was the best shot, even if I was the youngest. When it came to the exercise program I always pushed myself. Of the twenty-four of us, the oldest was 52, the second youngest was 19. One event that helped make me part of the team was that I did Tai Chi every morning.

I first had a few from our team join in and later competitors from other events. I was the youngest on the American Olympic team, the next youngest was an archer named Denise, who was 14. Then a few girls on the gymnastics team who were 15 and a swimmer who was 16. When June rolled around there was a lot of stress on everybody. We were training to hit our peak in September. I walked into the main office.

"We need a break from the stress," I told them.

"You can take a long weekend off."

"I want everybody to take an extra long weekend." They looked at each other, then back at me.

"What are you thinking, John?"

"I'll fly everybody, including staff and coaches to Disneyland for an all-expense-paid trip."

"That's a lot of people."

"I called Disney, when they heard the idea they offered a discount and VIP treatment."

"It's a great idea. We'll call Disneyland and confirm the arrangements." Back at the dorm, I called my family.

"Hi Mom!"

"Hi Johnny. When are you coming back?"

"They pretty much want us here until the Olympics start."

"Oh, that's too bad. I miss you."

"We are getting a break to go to Disneyland. What do you think of flying out to California and joining me?"

"I'll ask your Dad."

"Bring everybody! We'll do the Fourth out there together." The team and I stayed together, riding the rides. It was great to be able to be tall enough to ride everything. When my family arrived, I introduced them to the team.

"It's very nice to meet Deadshot's parents."

"Is that your nickname for Johnny?" my Dad asked.

"Deadshot John," my teammates replied.

"It's better than some of the others," Mom said.

"Oh? Like what?"

"The newspapers like to call him 'The Little Mogul,'" my Grandpa contributed.

"And his friends call him 'John the Genius,'" Mom added.

"Why don't you just show them my baby pictures?" I asked, and only got laughter in reply. Disney heard about my birthday and the fireworks tradition, so I got invited backstage for the park's fireworks show. Dad came with me, as he was as fascinated with the explosives as I was. It was a great twelfth birthday, and all I ended up paying for was the flights and the meals.