Free The Second Ship by Richard Phillips

United States government.
    Vice President Gordon leaned back in his leather chair, trying to maintain his trademark calm, businesslike exterior. Directly across the table from him, President Harris leaned forward in his taller chair, elbows on the mahogany of the table, the corners of his mouth tugged downward by a slowly emerging scowl. The secretary of defense also leaned forward, looking ready to blow a gasket that would send steam spurting from every bodily orifice.
    “Mr. President. As you recall, I counseled against the announcement of the Rho Ship's existence, advice that recent events have shown to be very sound. But what is done, is done. We can’t undo that. We can, however, retract your promise to publicly release the Rho Ship’s technologies. We can still stop this madness.”
    Peering over cupped fists, Vice President Gordon stared at the president. Many people who did not know the man regarded President Harris as something of a stubborn dunce, a self-absorbed man, ill-suited to the mantle of leadership placed upon him. Over his long political career, the president had left a broad trail of political corpses—those who had underestimated his intellect and his ability to make a decision and see it through.
    Someone once described the president as the one the family would send out to shoot Old Yeller. George Gordon could no longer look at the man without that caricature springing to mind. President Harris was a man of conscience who, right or wrong, fulfilled his perceived duty, then left his staff to sort out how to spin the situation for political advantage.
    The president’s bulldog gaze now affixed itself to his defense secretary. “Bob, we have already discussed this. If you don’t have anything new to add, then you are done.”
    “I do have something. The secretary of energy proposes we release the cold fusion technology, that we provide a detailed publication describing the steps that make the process efficient and repeatable. While I understand the importance of the technology, must I remind everyone of the circumstances surrounding the murder of Dr. Harriet Price in ninety-seven? The Cal Tech cold fusion expert? She was pushing DOE to re-evaluate cold fusion as a viable energy source when she was killed. You can believe the ‘killed during a home invasion’ story if you want, but I say it looks more like someone already wants the competing methodology kept private.”
    Porter Boles, the secretary of energy, interrupted. “Hogwash. Nobody else is close on cold fusion. There are a few guys out there tinkering with aquariums in labs, producing a little more heat than what is put in. Using current techniques, the nuclear interaction probabilities are too small for significant nuclear fusion.”
    Porter Boles continued. “What we have at the Rho Division at Los Alamos is completely unique, a procedure that enables commercially viable cold fusion production. It has the potential to get us off of fossil fuels within five years.”
    The secretary of defense rose to his feet.
    “And that doesn’t scare the shit out of you? You may be right. This may truly be a wonderful thing for our country. But I say we can afford to take our sweet time analyzing all ramifications before jumping in bed with this thing.
    “What are the weaponization possibilities? Will oil futures collapse, causing mass shortages before the other energy can come online? And what about our big OPEC buddies? Are they just going to sit idly by waiting for their world to be replaced, or panic and lash out? This little Kyoto-friendly project of yours could spiral into a world war.”
    The lines in the president’s forehead deepened. “Sit down, Robert. These are tired subjects. The energy and defense departments have had access to the Rho Ship for sixty years. I will not keep this thing bottled up for another sixty years to appease the parochial fears of the defense department, the net effect of which would limit mankind's