Gordian studied his friend’s curious face.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you in suspense,” he said. “Couldn’t come up with the exact word. You know how it is with me.”
Parker smiled a little. A brown-haired man of middle age and medium build, wearing a black hopsack blazer, pale blue shirt, and gray flannel trousers, his appearance was unremarkable in almost every respect until you inevitably noticed his eyes. In them was a look Dan had not lost since his days as wing man to Gordian in their hundreds of sorties over Nam, flying F-4 Phantoms through waves of antiaircraft fire as they searched the forested ground for VC entrenchments. It was a look so similar to the look in Gordian’s eyes that people would sometimes mistake the two for brothers.
“Granted, self-expression isn’t your most notable personality trait,” he said. “You want to try taking a stab at it anyway?”
Gordian hesitated, his knife and fork suspended over his plate.
“It’s a kind of feeling. Or my wanting to hold on to a feeling, if that helps at all,” he said. “I don’t think I can explain it any better. But sometimes when I’m getting out of bed on a workday, and my blanket’s tossed off, and I have one foot halfway to the floor, I look over at Ashley, and I’m perfectly content with how things are at that split second. It gives me incredible peace of mind knowing I don’t really have to leave her for UpLink to be okay. More than okay. That everything I’ve built is strong enough to stand, to grow, if I decide to stay right there in that house.” He paused, sipped his drink — mineral water with a lemon twist. “On the other hand, I don’t want to stay put, become complacent. Don’t want to stop. And that’s as essential to the mix as any sense of accomplishment or fulfillment. Wanting to stop and not stop… to keep attaining things and at the same time let go. I honestly don’t know the word for the feeling, Dan. It might sound like there’s some contradiction in it, but I’m not sure. And I want to figure it out, find whatever will let me keep riding it.”
Parker chewed his food quietly a minute, glanced at his martini, and frowned. There was nothing left of it but the rocks. He caught a waiter’s attention, motioned to his glass, and continued eating in silence until his refill arrived.
“The part about not leaving home might have to wait,” he muttered half under his breath, taking a deep sip of the cocktail and swallowing the words with it.
Gordian looked at him. “What was that you said?”
Parker flapped a hand in dismissal.
“Time for that later on,” he said quickly. “Right now, I’ll make you a proposition. After we’re done with business here in the capital, I’ll head back home to Saratoga, think about the word that keeps hiding from you, le mot juste, see if I can draw it out into the open. Meanwhile, you turn that resourceful steel-trap brain of yours to pondering how I can get back to where I belong.”
“Congress.”
Parker shrugged.
“Public service,” he said. “I’m open to broad and innovative suggestions.”
Gordian paused again. Then he reached for his lemon water and held it out across the table.
“Okay, settled,” he said. “Can do.”
They clinked glasses, then sat a moment.
“We should get on to the capital business you mentioned,” Gordian said.
Parker nodded.
“In my opinion, your coming here to make a closing pitch without a whole army of experts was a stroke of inspiration,” he said. “It’s going to make all the difference in the world.”
Gordian smiled. “Dan, we’ve already toasted to our deal—”
“I’m serious,” Parker interrupted. “Sedco’s about oil. It’s no insult to my fellow board members to say that’s what interests them. What they know. They’ve read the UpLink prospectus, the analyses and recommendations prepared by our advisory panel. They don’t need technical lectures on the ins and outs of fiberoptic communications. They don’t even have to appreciate all their properties, advantages, and capabilities. It’s enough for them to understand offshore drilling operations are becoming more computerized practically every day, and that high data transmission from the rigs to our onshore facilities is a necessity. Wiring up our platforms to your African telecom ring isn’t just to our benefit, it’s inevitable.”
“You’re convinced a majority of the board sees it that way?” Gordian said.
“Totally,” Parker said. “The few fence straddlers or outright dissenters might need some help trusting the rest, and maybe themselves. That’s what you’re about, Gord. Inspiring trust and credibility.” He paused. “It’s a very big reason I think your coming here alone was so important.”
Gordian rubbed his chin. “What’s your slant on them? The possible opposing voters?”
“There aren’t many, for one thing. I’m betting Bill Fredericks will need the most persuasion. With him, resistance to progress is a sort of reflexive crusade. He was a Sedco executive when the fossil fuel we sell was still living plants and protozoa—”
“I think it’s made from plants and bacteria…”
“Protozoa, bacteria, flying aardvarks, what-the-hell-ever,” Parker said. “Point is, Bill seems to be the only member with a problem getting a basic grasp on lightwave systems… which is no shocker to me, having been to his home. Don’t even try bringing up video conferencing to him. His phones have hammer and bell ringers, and I swear to God I saw some with rotary dials. He refuses to use e-mail or even check out the Internet. Mention increased bandwidth, and he thinks it’s got something to do with his wife’s rings and bracelets. Doesn’t see anything wrong with sticking to the marine radio links we’ve been using for decades and probably wonders what the hell’s wrong with using Morse code to contact the mainland.”
Gordian laughed.
“I’ll try to be extra attentive while nursing him along,” he said, and finished his lunch. “Who else?”
“Paul Reidman. He’s savvy. Keen on the corporate security aspect, likes the idea that tapping a data stream carried as pulses of light is a damn hard task, going to be almost impossible when we get to practical photon encoding in the next few years.” Parker sipped his drink. “Reidman can be fiscally myopic, worries about short-term unit costs versus a reasonable investment in the future. But his stinginess cuts both ways. He’s seen the reports showing that postinstallation maintenance of undersea fiber systems is relatively cheap. Average is something like two, three major faults every quarter century, right?”
“Three, according to our preliminary risk assessment,” Gordian said. “We should have an update from Vince Scull soon… he flew out to Gabon separately from the rest of the advance team, but should have joined them by now. Also, we’re in the process of contracting a repair fleet for guaranteed rapid deployment.”
“Stress that to Paul. Remind him that Planétaire already had one of those statistical faults back in May, trimmed your odds some,” Parker said. He saw the wry amusement in Gordian’s face. “What’s to laugh at?”
Gordian shrugged a little.
“I was thinking you truly are made for the campaign trail,” he said.
Parker was unabashed. “I’m not trying to exploit anybody’s misfortune. Not gleefully anyway. But it’s the kind of market research that can sway Paul.”
Gordian shrugged again.
“I wasn’t being critical,” he said. “Just making an observation.”
“Good, you know how sensitive I am,” Parker said. He eyed the last morsel of his steak. “While we’re on guarantees, give me UpLink’s capacity timetable.”
“We can promise an initial secure multimedia transfer rate of between one and two terrabytes per second. Phone, video, Internet, or any combination thereof. After a year of upgrades we should be up to four terrabytes. By 2005, we can virtually assure you almost ten. Looking at the startup number, Megan Breen’s favorite example is that it’s equivalent to millions of simultaneous telephone calls, a ten-mile high stack of printed material, and twenty feature films.”