Эбби Луби - Nuclear Romance

“Look, Owen, ALLPower has guys working ten-to twelve-hour shifts. These aren’t the guys sweeping the floor, these are the guys working with radioactive fuel. Exhaustion and working with lethal green-glow stuff? Not a great combo.”

“Hmm. Who’s your guy?”

“Who? You’re asking me to divulge my source?”

“Bet your buns. I’m your boss, don’t forget. Who is it?”

“He’s risking his job. If they catch him, ALLPower will sue the pants off him. He can’t afford the kind of lawyer to fight the company’s high-powered attorneys. He says he’d end up in jail.”

“Tell me, dammit. Won’t leave my lips—promise.”

The headline fell just beneath the fold on the front page, the second-most important spot. Owen purposefully didn’t put it on top because he didn’t want the Daily Suburban to be a “one-story” paper.

Lou verified Larry’s accounts with retired plant workers who were safe from any ALLPower retaliation. The retirees were only too glad to be quoted in the popular newspaper. As they told it, most of the staff was encouraged to work long hours and get a bigger paycheck. The company preferred that to hiring more workers who would require pricey benefits. Mishaps had happened, most notably, the main security guard fell asleep outside the reactor gates, one of the most vulnerable spots where security had to be impenetrable, especially from terrorists.

Bob’s response to the allegations was short and sweet.

“Are plant workers overworked to the point where it might sabotage the security of the plant?” Lou asked.

“I’m not going to answer that, Lou,” Bob said, gritting his teeth. “You should know better than to believe everything you hear.”

“So, ALLPower has no comment?”

“Damn straight. Not for a stupid story like that. You’re not really gonna run it, are you?”

“Damn straight I am. Thanks, Bob.”

The story ran the next day, the same day Larry Hines called in sick. He was beefing up his resume and checking the job market in Ohio, where his brother lived. Larry also called a real estate agent. He’d put his house on the market even though prospects were slim to sell his two-bedroom home just a mile from the plant. Since the accidental steam release, values in Larry’s neighborhood quickly plummeted and For Sale signs popped up like dandelions.

When Bob saw the story he sucked in his breath and chomped his lip. Whistle-blower or not, it was time to put pressure on the newspaper. He banged the side of his hand on the intercom.

“Get me Owen Marks at the Daily Suburban .”

Bob glared at Lou, who was seated opposite him at the table in the Daily Suburban ’s conference room. ALLPower demanded an editorial meeting with Owen to dispute Lou’s story about overworked employees and the impact on plant safety. The protocol for news editorial meetings was for reporters to be present, but not to comment unless asked by their editor. It was all up to Owen.

Bob’s boss, Mike O’Brien, was sitting next to him, wondering how long this would take, if he could tee off at the first hole before noon. Lou beamed at Bob. Time for a showdown.

“How could you write such crap?” Bob lashed out at Lou.

“Wait a minute, Bob,” Owen said. “Let’s look at what we’ve got here. Lou has testimonials from retirees, and from one person who works at the plant who will remain anonymous. You had no comment.”

Mike spun around to Bob. “What? You had no comment? You couldn’t think of anything to say?”

Bob ignored him. Incredibly, his boss hadn’t even read the damn article.

“We want a retraction. Tomorrow. On the front page.”

“We run retractions on the editorial page. It’s policy.” Owen knew Lou was itching to defend himself but Owen laid down the law with him before the meeting, promising serious blowback if Lou uttered a word.

Bob was simmering. “Who the hell is he, Padera? Who’s the whistle-blower?”

Lou smirked. Owen could just imagine what he was thinking.

“We don’t divulge our sources, Bob,” said Owen. “You know that.”

“That’s bullshit. When we find the idiot, he’s finished. And so are you. You’ll go down with him! The whole paper will go down.”

“Bob, calm down,” said Mike. He turned to Owen.

“We just don’t want the public to freak out or worry that the plant is being run by a sleep-deprived staff. It’s not that way at all. Can’t you write an editorial putting it all into perspective? Citing all the other things we are doing to keep the plant safe? Like that Dolan girl did in her paper?”

Owen winced. The publisher had, not for the first time, reminded him how ALLPower’s advertising was vital to the paper. Now, as more newspapers faced bankruptcy, the dividing lines between advertising and reporting became blurred.

“Why don’t you guys write it, Mike?” Owen offered. “It will be featured as an ALLPower guest column, and you can say whatever you want. We won’t cut a word and you can have as much space as you like. What do you say?”

Mike looked over at Bob, still shooting imaginary bullets into Lou’s gut. Bob shook his head.

“I want a retraction, dammit. I want an admission of guilt from this piece of shit.” He jabbed his jaw toward Lou.

“We can’t do that, Bob,” Owen said quickly. “Please consider my offer.”

“A guest column is not enough. It would take a weekly series explaining how safe the plant is,” Bob sneered.

“A short cartoon strip would probably do it,” Lou scoffed, unable to keep his mouth shut. Owen rolled his eyes, silently reprimanding him.

Bob jumped out of his seat. “You can’t even report a balanced story that gives us the benefit of the doubt!”

Before Owen could stop him, Lou calmly said, “The story was based on what people told me, and their stories all corroborated. You chose to be silent. Not my problem.”

“Bull shit . This is your problem. You have an agenda—you want to shut us down. Admit it!”

Owen stood up to meet Bob eye to eye. “You can put that perspective in your column, Bob,” he said.

Bob reeled and pushed his chair back.

“You want to know something about your precious little sports reporter, Owen? How about this for a news flash: he’s screwing that activist school lady, and they hang out at those sicko sex houses. She’s a walking advertisement to shut us down. Did you know that ?”

Owen tried to hide his surprise. He would deal with Lou later.

“That’s Lou’s personal business. We don’t care what our reporters do on their own time.”

Lou stood up, speechless.

“Let’s get out of here, Bob,” Mike said softly. “We’ll write the column, Owen. You’ll have it later today. Can you print it tomorrow?”

Mike nudged Bob toward the door. Just before leaving Bob turned and looked hard at Lou.

“You better watch your back.”

The door closed, and Owen looked dully at Lou.

“What lady is he talking about?”

“He’s full of shit. Doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Besides, I thought our personal life was private. Don’t fall for this crap, Owen.”

“I don’t like the way Stalinsky talks. But mostly, I can’t afford to get leaned on by our profit-hungry publisher who doesn’t want to jeopardize ALLPower’s advertising. You get that, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I get it.”

Owen started for the door, then turned around.

“Quite frankly, if you’re really getting it on with this gal, I think you’re out of your mind. Being hooked up with an activist is stupid for a newsman like you. The implications—if anyone finds out?” He shook his head.