Free Power Play by Ben Bova Page B

comes Charles with your drink.”
    Jake accepted the tall frosted glass from the butler, took a sip, then put it down on the table between the recliners by the telephone.
    “It’s MHD power generation,” he began.
    “So Amy told me. And MHD stands for magneto something or other?”
    “Magnetohydrodynamics.”
    Tomlinson reached for his drink without taking his eyes off Jake.
    “Think of a rocket engine,” Jake said.
    “Like the space shuttle?”
    Nodding, “Right. Think of those hot exhaust gases going down a tube, a channel. There’s a powerful magnet wrapped around the channel. As the gases go through, they generate enormous amounts of electrical power: megawatts per cubic meter. More.”
    “Okay.”
    “MHD generators are more than twice as efficient as the generators the electric utility companies use today. MHD can cut consumers’ electric bills in half, maybe more.”
    “Really?” Tomlinson was smiling but he didn’t seem all that impressed.
    “And MHD generators could burn the high-sulfur coal we have in this state cleanly, without damaging the environment.”
    “We could reopen the mines,” Amy said. “Lots of new jobs. Lots of profits for the mine owners.”
    Tomlinson said, “Really?” again, but this time there was an edge of excitement in his voice.
    “Really,” said Jake. “Clean energy. Reduce our imports of foreign oil. Use the energy resources we have right here in the USA. Revitalize the state’s coal industry.”
    Sitting up straighter, Tomlinson muttered, “Several western states have big deposits of high-sulfur coal that are just lying in the ground, unusable.”
    “We could use them!” Jake enthused. “Energy independence!”
    His smile genuinely pleased now, Tomlinson said, “My god, Jake. This could mean more than the Senate. This could carry me to the White House!”
    Amy raised a cautioning finger. “The Senate first, Franklin. One step at a time.”
    He chuckled. “Right. Right. One step at a time. And the Senate would be a good launching pad for a run for the presidency in a few years.”
    “Onward and upward,” said Amy, grinning back at Tomlinson.
    Jake wondered how far they had already gone.

DINNER FOR THREE
    Tomlinson insisted that Jake stay for dinner, and the three of them ate in the mansion’s spacious dining room, huddled at one end of the long polished table beneath a chandelier dripping crystal while the butler and one of the kitchen help brought in various dishes. Another servant poured wine for them, making certain no one’s glass went empty.
    Jake barely noticed what he was eating, he was too excited about the grand visions that Amy and Tomlinson were unfolding before his eyes.
    “I’ll get in touch with whoever’s running Lignite Mining,” Amy said. “You’ll want the coal interests aboard your campaign.”
    “And the environmentalists,” Tomlinson said eagerly. “Get their top people to meet with Lignite’s top people.”
    “Great!” she said, waving a fork in the air. “With you in the middle, bringing them together in common cause. Terrific photo op!”
    Jake said, “You’ll have to meet with Professor Sinclair first.”
    “Professor Sinclair?” Tomlinson asked. “Who’s he?”
    Reaching for his wineglass, Jake said, “He’s the man in charge of the university’s MHD research. And, uh, I’m afraid he doesn’t think much of using MHD as a plank in your political platform.”
    “Really?” Tomlinson looked more intrigued than alarmed. “Why on earth would he feel that way?”
    With a shrug, Jake replied, “I’m not sure. He’s an academic—”
    “We can’t have him standing in our way,” Amy said.
    “I’ll persuade him,” Tomlinson said easily.
    “He’s agreed to meet with you,” said Amy.
    “Good,” Tomlinson said. “Fine.” He took a forkful of rare roast beef and chewed thoughtfully for a few moments. Then he said, “Jake, could you set up the meeting for me? I’d like to talk to him one on one.”