Eric Flint - Time spike

Whom she missed a lot. "You didwhat?" asked Blacklock, an hour later. That was worth it, all by itself. The only time Marie had ever seen Andy look completely surprised. "You heard me. Is there some law against it? If so, it's null and void. That stuff's regulated by the states, and Illinois is sayonara. In case you hadn't noticed." She pointed a finger at the guards, who were all lined up by now and ready to go. "And aren't you supposed to be doing something besides worrying about my family affairs? You know. Take off your hat and wave it around and holler 'head 'em up! move 'em out!' "

Chapter 46 Alexander Cohen finished presenting his offer. "So, Major Brisebois. Does that seem acceptable to you?" Nick smiled. The financier wasn't usually given to formalities, he'd learned. The sudden introduction of titles was probably his way of adding a little edge to his negotiations. He didn't need it, though. Nick had spent his whole life working either for the military or the Defense Department, leaving aside odd jobs he'd had as a teenager. So his yardstick for measuring pay and benefits was a world removed from the pay and perks that seemed to be taken for granted in Cohen's very different circles. Leaving aside the fact that he'd come to feel strongly about the matter involved himself, he'd have to be crazy to turn down the offer. The pay was three times what he'd been making, the benefits were gold-plated-hell, even the pension Cohen was offering was way better than what he'd get from the DoD. And he'd still be able to collect his military retirement pay. That left one possible sticking point. "The terms are fine, Mr. Cohen. But I can't start right away. The job I have is not something a responsible man can just walk away from. I'd need to give them notice, and it might take a few weeks. I'm coordinating a lot of things that-" Cohen waved his hand. "Yes, yes, of course. I wouldn't want you to do otherwise, in any event." He smiled thinly. "Despite my reputation in certain quarters, Nick, Iam a patriotic citizen. I simply have an American conception of the term 'patriotism,' instead of the Tsarist one that seems to inhabit official circles in Washington these days." He gathered up the papers he'd spread out on the desk and stuffed them back into the manila folder. "I'll have one of my assistants prepare a proper contract. How about we officially start your employment with the Foundation on the first day of the coming month? That'll give you three weeks to get your affairs in order"-again, he waved his hand-"and if it winds up taking you more time than that, that's not a problem. If nothing else, you'll need more time to sell your house and relocate. But your salary will still date from the beginning of the next month." He gave Nick a keen-eyed look. "One question, though. Do you foresee a problem with your security clearance?" Nick shrugged.

"I'll lose my current clearance as soon as I quit, of course. I'll still be obligated by the usual keep-your-mouth-shut provisions, but I can't see where that's an issue. Of course, down the road a ways, somebody in officialdom might try tomake it an issue." He gave Cohen a smile that was even thinner than the one Cohen had given him. "But I'm quite sure there's never been a word said, in any oath I ever took, that forbade me from investigating something that happened over a hundred million years ago." "Indeed." Cohen put the folder back in his briefcase. "And now, if I can ask, how do you plan to proceed?" Nick had given that matter quite a bit of thought over the past few days, naturally. "Well, I figure the physicists and mathematicians here can pretty much run their own show. I wouldn't have the faintest idea how to direct them, anyway. And the same's pretty much true with the paleontologists. Especially given that you've decided to leave Esther Hu here in place." Cohen chuckled. "The decision wasn't exactly mine.

I'm quite sure Esther would have simply quit if I'd told her otherwise. At least, that's the not-so-veiled threat she gave her university if they didn't allow her to take an immediate sabbatical."

"What I really plan to focus on is organizing what you might call the popular input into the project." "Meaning?" "You saw it yourself, Alex. Tim Harshbarger and Bruce Boyle left here steaming mad. You think they're the only ones who feel that way, down in those southern Illinois counties? Not on your life. I've already talked it over with them. Give us a few months-a few weeks, even-and we'll have a network organized down there that'll start running circles around the siblings. Theycan't keep everything hidden. Not if there's a well-organized effort to dig up the truth, right there on the spot by local people." He leaned back in his chair. "Then, I plan to do the same in and around Marion County, West Virginia. That'll take more time and be a lot harder, since the Grantville disaster happened years ago. But we'll turn up some people, you watch and see if we don't.

Somebody down there will know something." The financier frowned. "You think so? I'd have imagined they'd have spoken up by now, if they did." Nick studied him for a moment. Alexander Cohen was a wizard in the stock market, by all accounts. But he'd started off wealthy to begin with. He'd been born with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth. Nick's father, on the other hand, had been a steel worker in a mill in southern Ohio. Nick's life in the Air Force had broadened his horizons a lot, of course, but he still knew and understood how working class people looked at the world, especially those born and raised in the nation's smaller towns. "No, they wouldn't. Alex, meaning no offense, but you've take for granted your entire life the fact that you had influence. As you grew older, a lot of influence. I don't think you really understand how differently things look, when you grow up assuming you have no influence at all. The 'guv'mint' is just something way over there, powerful and immense and unyielding to any personal leverage you might have. Sure, once every two or four years you get to vote, but that's just so you can pick which big shot sits on top of the pile. You still don't have any leverage yourself."

He leaned forward and planted his hands on the table. Stubby-fingered, thick-palmed hands, the sort you'd expect to come attached to the son of a steel-worker. "No, trust me on this. Anybody who knew anything, once the lid came down and it was made clear that lid was lead-plated and wasn't budging, would have just kept their mouths shut. If the press had kept digging, things might have been different. But they didn't. We'll turn something up. See if we don't." Cohen nodded and stood up. "I leave it all to you, then. I'll appreciate periodic reports from you. And, at least on occasion, reports you give to me personally in New York. But I'll keep my nose out of the daily affairs of the project. I am not in the least bit inclined to be a micromanager." After Cohen left the iron mine, Nick took stock of his immediate situation. He'd have to leave himself in two or three days. Silly to waste them. Two or three days could last a long time, if fortune smiled. He found Margo Glenn-Lewis in her usual laboratory. At least, "laboratory" was the word Nick used, even though he suspected it was probably technically inaccurate. "Is there a good place to eat anywhere around here?" he asked. "If so, can I buy you dinner?" She looked up and gave him the smile that-he'd be a damn liar to deny it-had partly influenced his decision. "Three, actually. At least, if a radius of forty kilometers falls within your definition of 'around here.' " "I'm a former pilot, Ms. Glenn-Lewis. I sneer at paltry klicks." "Ha! You forget that I'm driving. We'll see how long that sneer lasts, once we get there. I learned to drive on Manhattan, dealing with cabbies. I sneer at the paltry laws of motion and inertia. Are you in the mood for steaks?" "Sounds good." She glanced at the clock on the wall. "Fine. We'll leave at five o'clock." When they arrived at Freddy's Steak House, at her insistence, he showed her the sneer. It was pretty pitiful, actually. But the steaks were good, and the rest of the evening kept getting better.