Leeds’s office,” said Tomlinson.
Wordlessly, Sinclair nodded.
“The senator is holding that over you.”
“No!” Sinclair snapped. “It’s not like that! God, you make it sound as if he’s blackmailing me.”
“Isn’t he?”
“No, he is not.” With some of his usual strength, Sinclair said, “I have supported Christopher Leeds in the past and I see no reason to change that support now.”
Jake heard himself ask, “Has Leeds promised to put federal money into your MHD work?”
Sinclair’s face flushed. “We haven’t discussed that. Not at all. We haven’t even talked about the MHD program.”
“Why not?”
From his seat in the corner of the room, Nacho Perez spoke up. “Hey, the senator’s got a lot of other things to worry about. This MHD stuff is small potatoes.”
“Really?” Tomlinson asked. “Is that Chris’s attitude?”
“He’s not interested in helping the coal industry?” Jake demanded.
“He’s got more important stuff to do,” Perez said.
Turning back to Sinclair, Tomlinson said, “I can’t believe that Senator Leeds hasn’t shown any interest in your MHD work, Professor.”
Squirming slightly, Sinclair replied, “I’ve … mentioned it to him. Once or twice.”
“And he’s not interested?” Tomlinson seemed incredulous.
Recovering his composure, Sinclair said, “I believe the senator has a more realistic attitude about MHD power generation than you do, Mr. Tomlinson. This is a research program, for god’s sake. You can’t go promising people pie in the sky. It’ll be years before MHD becomes practical, if ever.”
Shaking his head, Tomlinson said, “It looks as if I have more faith in your work than you do.”
“That’s because you don’t understand it. You don’t know what the problems are, what obstacles are facing us.”
“Please enlighten me, then.”
Sinclair glanced at Perez, then at Jake, and finally returned his gaze to Tomlinson. “You think we can just order a superconducting magnet from Home Depot? Like a piece of retail hardware? Nobody’s made a high-temperature superconducting coil to the size we’d need in a practical generator.”
Before anyone could react to that, Sinclair went on, “And the erosion rate inside the channel. We’ve lined the channel with the kind of heat shield material NASA uses on the space shuttle, but still the channel burns through. And the electrodes! How do you think we can produce electrodes that will stand up to that stream of five-thousand-degree plasma and the megawatts-per-stere electrical charge in the plasma?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Tomlinson murmured.
“Well, it won’t be done by a wave of a magic wand,” Sinclair insisted. “It will take years of research, years of hard, hard work.”
“Which will require money,” Jake said.
“Which I will personally guarantee to provide you, once I’m in the Senate,” Tomlinson added.
“You personally guarantee?” Sinclair scoffed. “What about the other ninety-nine senators? What about the White House and the House of Representatives?”
Hunching forward, hands on his thighs, Tomlinson said, “Professor Sinclair, that’s what leadership is all about. When I’m in the Senate, I intend to be a leader. I intend to move ahead—with MHD as well as other programs. I don’t want to be a drone, like Senator Leeds.”
“Hey!” Perez yelled from the corner. “The senator ain’t no drone!”
“What has he done?” Tomlinson challenged. “Except to help the casinos and the highway developers.”
“He’s done plenty,” Perez said truculently.
Sinclair got to his feet. “This is getting us nowhere. I came here to meet you, Tomlinson, out of common politeness. I appreciate your interest in MHD, but I think it’s premature.” He eyed Jake as he added, “It’s misguided.”
Tomlinson rose, too. “I still intend to make MHD an issue in my campaign. Will you come out against that?”
With a glance toward Perez,
Wordlessly, Sinclair nodded.
“The senator is holding that over you.”
“No!” Sinclair snapped. “It’s not like that! God, you make it sound as if he’s blackmailing me.”
“Isn’t he?”
“No, he is not.” With some of his usual strength, Sinclair said, “I have supported Christopher Leeds in the past and I see no reason to change that support now.”
Jake heard himself ask, “Has Leeds promised to put federal money into your MHD work?”
Sinclair’s face flushed. “We haven’t discussed that. Not at all. We haven’t even talked about the MHD program.”
“Why not?”
From his seat in the corner of the room, Nacho Perez spoke up. “Hey, the senator’s got a lot of other things to worry about. This MHD stuff is small potatoes.”
“Really?” Tomlinson asked. “Is that Chris’s attitude?”
“He’s not interested in helping the coal industry?” Jake demanded.
“He’s got more important stuff to do,” Perez said.
Turning back to Sinclair, Tomlinson said, “I can’t believe that Senator Leeds hasn’t shown any interest in your MHD work, Professor.”
Squirming slightly, Sinclair replied, “I’ve … mentioned it to him. Once or twice.”
“And he’s not interested?” Tomlinson seemed incredulous.
Recovering his composure, Sinclair said, “I believe the senator has a more realistic attitude about MHD power generation than you do, Mr. Tomlinson. This is a research program, for god’s sake. You can’t go promising people pie in the sky. It’ll be years before MHD becomes practical, if ever.”
Shaking his head, Tomlinson said, “It looks as if I have more faith in your work than you do.”
“That’s because you don’t understand it. You don’t know what the problems are, what obstacles are facing us.”
“Please enlighten me, then.”
Sinclair glanced at Perez, then at Jake, and finally returned his gaze to Tomlinson. “You think we can just order a superconducting magnet from Home Depot? Like a piece of retail hardware? Nobody’s made a high-temperature superconducting coil to the size we’d need in a practical generator.”
Before anyone could react to that, Sinclair went on, “And the erosion rate inside the channel. We’ve lined the channel with the kind of heat shield material NASA uses on the space shuttle, but still the channel burns through. And the electrodes! How do you think we can produce electrodes that will stand up to that stream of five-thousand-degree plasma and the megawatts-per-stere electrical charge in the plasma?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Tomlinson murmured.
“Well, it won’t be done by a wave of a magic wand,” Sinclair insisted. “It will take years of research, years of hard, hard work.”
“Which will require money,” Jake said.
“Which I will personally guarantee to provide you, once I’m in the Senate,” Tomlinson added.
“You personally guarantee?” Sinclair scoffed. “What about the other ninety-nine senators? What about the White House and the House of Representatives?”
Hunching forward, hands on his thighs, Tomlinson said, “Professor Sinclair, that’s what leadership is all about. When I’m in the Senate, I intend to be a leader. I intend to move ahead—with MHD as well as other programs. I don’t want to be a drone, like Senator Leeds.”
“Hey!” Perez yelled from the corner. “The senator ain’t no drone!”
“What has he done?” Tomlinson challenged. “Except to help the casinos and the highway developers.”
“He’s done plenty,” Perez said truculently.
Sinclair got to his feet. “This is getting us nowhere. I came here to meet you, Tomlinson, out of common politeness. I appreciate your interest in MHD, but I think it’s premature.” He eyed Jake as he added, “It’s misguided.”
Tomlinson rose, too. “I still intend to make MHD an issue in my campaign. Will you come out against that?”
With a glance toward Perez,
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