'Again, why not? We could build a minimum number of the current third generation power stations up there, and continue all the research outside of our atmosphere.'
'I'll tell you why… You don't have a drink by the way. You know where the coffee is.' Grum outlined his reasoning — the same reasoning that he was using to justify the decision to himself. 'One of the things I was just going over was that our own research — while some of the best in the world — is insufficient. We have to be out in the global community and pushing the research at home as hard as we can just to get where we want to be in the next ten years.' Hank had poured his coffee and was moving back to his chair, but he did not look about to interrupt, so Grum continued. 'We could do as you say. Build third gen reactors on the moon, perhaps with some fourth gen improvements. There are such things in existence already, so that would not be impossible. But there are still only small implementations of the fourth gen technology entire. And fifth gen… We are pushing it to get our fission department to come up with concrete designs. In short, we need access to the rest of the world's knowledge on this, and we need to give them ours.'
'Woah, boy! Giving away our IP?'
'Doesn't do us any good stuck in a closet where no-one can use it, does it?'
'Let's say I agree with you. If we are going that far, why not open up UMB and our research orbitals to the same programmes? Get them all on board.'
'If I thought the board would wear it, I would do exactly that.'
'Holy crappola, Grum!'
'It's about the execution, Hank. Hoarding IP just stagnates the market. Nobody needs to innovate incrementally and it's left to a major market disruption to force innovation by the incumbent players. We don't need to horde ideas, we just need to execute them better and faster. The very fact that we had an idea first, can give us a leg up. I don't even mind the idea of lagging the release of information a year or two behind the real innovation, so long as it doesn't hurt us. But some of the research we're holding on to is decades old, and has probably been surpassed, or can fix a problem in someone else's research which we could then use to execute our own plans better and faster.'
'Idealist.'
Grum shook his head. 'Pragmatist.'
'And what about opening up the moon base and orbitals to competitors?'
'We don't have to do it for free, Hank! Charge 'em rent! Most research placements in the academic world come with an associated fee, sometimes quite a substantial one, usually picked up by industrial concerns which can afford it and want the research done. Witness MITAMP. We don't need to make a massive profit on it, but it is not unreasonable to cover our costs, plus a bit. And as I said, if our greed in hoarding research is actually hurting us, then that's a problem which should be addressed.'
'OK. Colour me convinced — though as you say, I doubt the board will be easily swayed — I'll come back to my original point. Why are we building nuclear power plants on Earth, when we don't have to?'
'We still can't do everything in-situ on the moon. Plenty of the research we will need is already earthbound, plenty more will need people who can't or won't travel to space. I'm not happy with the idea, either, Hank. And I do like the idea of spreading the energy security even further by using augmented third gen reactors as the first stage of UMBRA. I think that flies. But the pure-play fourth and fifth gen reactors will need earth-side testing, at least initially.'
Hank sighed. 'I guess you're right.'
'Thanks for coming to see me about it, Hank. I was a little worried that everyone else was gung-ho about building more reactors on Earth.'
'As I did with you, to be honest. I can see the reasoning. I'll work with you to try and make a way forward on this. Do we have to do it in our own backyard, though?' Hank pointed to the highlighted states of New York and New Jersey on the screen.
'Two points on that front. One, it would be hypocritical not to put our money where our mouth is, so to speak. And two, if we can get a closed-system three-point-five or fourth gen reactor built there which uses the waste from the old second and third gen reactors as fuel? Won't that be better?'
'I guess.' Hank sounded defeated, which was not the state Grum wanted him to leave the office in.
'Look at it this way, Hank. We will need a nuclear safety committee, and people to guide the priorities of the builds. What better people than us? Two people who don't actually want the things on the planet, anyway.'
That did the trick, and Hank brightened. 'You're right about that.'
'And you can push UMBRA along with the augmented third gens, that will stop some of the board moaning about delays.'
'True enough. OK. Let's do this.'
'Doing it!'
Chapter 8
STEW, Amy, and Clait arrived home behaving as a happy, relaxed, and harmonious family. Grum could not see any signs that this was a feigned attitude, so the holiday seemed to have worked after all.
They told Grum and Vann that they had arrived back in the US on the Friday, and done nothing but sleep from the afternoon through to Saturday morning.
It was now Saturday afternoon, and they were at Grum and Vann's apartment while the laundry was going. Stew was going to pop back every now and then to deal with another load, but they fully intended to occupy their friends' apartment for the remainder of the day, and tell them everything.
Grum had ordered — and had shipped down a few days before — a delivery from Kelso's for the occasion. Grum had asked Justin to include a lager for Amy.
Amy took the lead in the storytelling.
Most of the first week was spent with Amy and Clait going round Antigua, mostly to acclimatise and occasionally to take in some of the child-friendly wildlife tours. Stew mainly tagged along, in this retelling, and — looking somewhat embarrassed — Stew did not contradict.
Although Grum had banned Stew from any classified material, he was still getting the filtered — and therefore no longer classified — reports from his office. After a week of this, though, Amy had lost it with Stew.
'Which is when I followed through on my threat. Revoking your access and telling the security office to fry your devices,' said Grum. He admitted to himself that he had taken a certain amount of satisfaction in doing that. The security office readily agreed — though only with all the formal paperwork — because most employees in the company were boringly conscientious when it came to security, so they hardly ever got an order to fry company equipment. They really, really, wanted to do it, and had made the paperwork as easy to fill out as possible. It had taken half an hour, tops, to complete the forms.
'You did,' said Stew. 'I don't know how you found out, though.'
'Oh that was easy. I had a call.'
'But I had talked to the security office,' Stew objected, 'and told them that I would not be accessing any more classified files. They said that as it was me, any other level of security would be OK. They did comment that I was on holiday, though.'
'Then they had more sense than you, but no, I didn't get another call from SO.'
'I called him,' said Amy.
'And gave me a right rollicking over the phone for having you work on a holiday, and was it really a holiday if you were still working? So… I pulled the trigger.'
'Probably for the best,' said Stew, chagrined. Grum saw him glance at Amy's expression. 'Definitely for the best.'
'Right, so after that was dealt with…' Amy continued the story, and Stew seemed to feel freer to interject with comments from then on.
Apparently it took most of the next week for Stew to stop moping about having been cut off from work, and another few days for him to relax and actually start enjoying himself. Which was just as well, because Amy was ready to cut the holiday short and come home.
The last two weeks, though, had been fun, relaxing. and a time of complete enjoyment. So the holiday was adjudged a success, and Stew had agreed to leave all work related items back in the house the next time they went away as a family.
Vann called a ha
lt to the tales so that Grum could cook some food, and Stew could go and sort out the laundry.
Grum left Vann and Amy chatting in the front room, watching the boys play and burble. Most of the burbling was coming from Clait, who was recounting the points of the holiday that he thought were the best, to Ju, who seemed genuinely interested.
Vann had been wise to break the conversation at that point, Grum considered. They were about to approach the elephant in the room of Stew and Amy going away to the orbital, which would be better saved until after they had eaten and the kids were in bed. The plan was for Clait to stay the night, and most of Sunday so he could go swimming with Grum and Ju. Stew and Amy had started him swimming in Antigua, but stayed with him the whole time. Getting some practise in at the pool would not be bad. It would also help establish the idea of Clait staying while his parents did other things.
Grum decided that a light-ish meal which they could share with the children would be best, then the adults could have snacks through the evening if they were still hungry.
Stew arrived back just as Grum finished cooking the chicken for the dinner, and was making the side-salad and pasta to go with it. Grum heard the general greetings from the other room and heard Stew making his way towards the kitchen.
'Aren't you done yet?' asked Stew.
'Couple of minutes.'
'Good. I'm famished.'
'Then you'll have to have something after. It's a light one so the kids can eat with us before going to bed.'
'Fair enough.' Stew drew closer to Grum and lowered his voice. 'Listen, man. Thank you. Seriously. Saved my bacon with what you did. Don't get me wrong, I was ready to poke your eyes out with a needle at the time, but… Thank you.'
'Don't mention it.'
'However,' Stew continued, keeping his voice down, 'if I find you acting like I was, I'll do the same to you.'
Grum turned a side-long grin on his mate. 'Good luck with that.'
'I mean it. Once I was the student, but now I am the Master.'
'Only a master of SyncDep, Stewie.' Grum was done with the cooking, and starting to plate up. He almost lost some pasta out of the colander as he spoke, though.
'Your powers are weak, old man.'
'You can't win, Stew,' said Grum, over his shoulder. 'You chose the wrong character to lead off with!'
'Damnit! Fine. If I see you behaving like I was then I'll get Vann to deal with you.'
'At last! A credible threat!'
'Git.'
'Truth accepted. Help me carry the plates in.'
The meal was over, each adult having taken turns in cajoling the two boys into eating something other than just the chicken. Grum decided that he would have to deploy the weapons-grade cheese with the pasta and salad next time. The kids were washed, brushed, and put to bed with no more than token complaints, for which each parent was grateful.
'How is Clait taking the idea that you two're going away again?' Vann said when they had settled on the sofas with a glass of something relaxing each.
'To be honest, I'm not sure it's made it through the holiday buzz, yet,' said Stew, and Amy nodded agreement. 'I'm not entirely sure how to make it sink in without pushing him to outright rebellion.'
'I have no fool-proof answer, and I don't think Grum does either,' said Vann. Grum, who was in the middle of taking a swig of his bitter, paused and shook his head a fraction, before continuing to drink.
We've never left Ju for longer than a weekend, he thought. I doubt he would react any better. Grum did not say it aloud, though, so Vann could complete her idea.
'Are you tagging everything everyone is doing next week with "while we're away"?'
Stew nodded, emphatically, but Amy shook her head. 'I thought that would be too heavy-handed,' she said.
'If it's not sinking in, the might be one way to make sure. Another way might be to have a direct, sit-down talk with him about it. About what he wants to do while he's staying with us,' said Grum.
'Not sure, mate,' said Stew. 'That might set off the resistance reaction, then you'd have hell for the next fortnight.'
'There's only a little time left. I can try to reinforce the concept by asking what he wants to do with Ju and I over the next couple of weeks, but it's the time concept, see. That's a problem.' Grum pulled a twisted expression with his mouth.
'I know. He won't get that we'll be away that long, I don't think.'
'Calendar?' said Vann, then added in a sing-song voice, 'this is when mummy and daddy go away, and this is when we come back! You can mark off a number each day until you see us again!'
'Good idea, that,' said Stew.
'Could be make or break, though. I know Ju could go either way if presented with that kind of thing,' said Grum.
'Gotta do something. Mentioning it doesn't seem to get the concept through. You're right. A concrete thing will definitely help him get the idea, but he might react badly. At this point, we'll have to take the chance, though, I think. Sorry guys,' said Amy, clearly approving the idea.
'We'll cope,' said Vann, taking a quick sip of her drink before adding, 'it's only a couple of weeks, we'll manage.'
'Good enough, then,' said Stew. 'Now, what did I miss while we were away?'
Amy and Vann let out twin sighs of exasperation, so Grum launched into a detailed account of his visit to SyncDep, rather than focus on an actual work update which could wait for Monday.
Chapter 9
GRUM was at his wit's end. Mainly with Ju. Although he was aware that a fair chunk of that frustration were his own displaced feelings of failure as a parent.
The Sunday before Stew and Amy had left for the Orbital had been a delight. Grum had taken the boys swimming and they had been equally as good, or bad, as each other.
By Stew's account during the week, the calendar ploy had worked for about an hour, until it sank in, then there were tantrums, which settled into a sullen mood for a day. Then came the pleas to go with them, the bargaining with the only chips Clait had: behaviour and love. Finally, the pleading for them not to go, and weeping.
That first night, Ju had been brilliant with Clait. Playing with toys near him and trying to get him involved, sharing treats, even though Clait had his own, and generally being a good friend. Grum had been proud of his son.
The next day the change in both boys was marked. Clait was less upset and even initiating play, but Ju was a little sod. Everything Clait wanted to do was something Ju had already done and was bored of, even though both parents knew that – until that point – he could spend hours doing the very same thing by himself, without complaint.
It got no better as time when on, either. Clait was trying to tell Ju about the holiday and all the nice things which had happened, and Ju was being entirely dismissive. Obviously Clait was trying to lessen his separation anxiety by recalling happy times which included his parents. Ju, though, it seemed, was suffering from a serious case of the green-eyed monster. So he was not being understanding as a result.
Hardly surprising in either boy at their ages.
However, when Clait — for the first time — actually asked to mark off the calendar rather than being prompted, Grum and Vann sensed a possible breakthrough. It really did not help, then, that Ju took it upon himself to scribble all over the calendar.
They had sent Ju to his room to "think about his actions", while Grum went out to get another calendar. This calendar was bigger and it had a daily colouring-in picture on each number. Clait was encouraged to colour in the days which had already passed, and told that he could colour a new one in every day until mummy and daddy got back from the work trip. The key dates were outlined in a metallic gold pen which Grum had bought at the same time, because… Metallic gold pen.
When they put it up on the refrigerator, they brought Ju back in from his room and his eyes widened at the much improved calendar. Vann and Grum explained that this was Clait's calendar, and only Clait was allowed to colour it in. If Ju apologised, properly, and asked Clait, very nicel
y, then Clait might let Ju help sometimes. But only if Ju did not take over.
There were no more "calendar incidents". It seemed to have been a good ploy, but it was wrought in desperation.
Grum's first instinct, quickly mastered, was to smack his son's bum, yell at him — intimidating him with sheer volume — and send him away. He had been appalled at that reaction. It revolted him. The hurried discussion between Vann and himself about what the hell to do next — while Clait was sitting there with the ruined calendar in his hands, sobbing — cascaded through various levels of punishment, most of which would have been incomprehensible to a child. Finally, Vann had said "new calendar" and pointed at the door.
It had been Grum's innovation to get the colouring calendar. And the gold pen. When he returned with it and quickly explained his idea, the look Vann gave him was one to treasure.
There had been a few more squabbles, and usually initiated by Ju. Each time Grum was living in fear of having to come up with another, more ingenious, plan to teach the lesson he wanted Ju to learn. As opposed to just "teaching his son a lesson".
And so, Grum was at his wit's end with his son, but also with himself. For all he had wondered about, and even thought he wanted another child, he was beginning to doubt his capacity for that. All he had read was telling him that kids got all the more frustrating, devious, and — paradoxically — more like friends as they got older. It was the general consensus. In Grum's lexicon – unless incontrovertible evidence presented itself – it was always the best plan to go with the consensus.
Getting his five metre swimming badge that Sunday did help to settle Ju down a bit, but he did take to pinning it to everything he wore.
Due in part to Ju's needling, Clait had not been the vibrant character over the last couple of weeks that he normally was. Grum was hopeful that today would change that.
Today there was to be a video uplink directly to the orbital. As far as USSMC was concerned, this was to be a real-time update on the conclusion of the meetings. As far as the principals on the call were concerned, it was so Clait got to see his parents, and vice versa.
Critical Error: Book 3 of the Leaving Earth series Page 5