state.”
“More energy? Cleanly?”
Nodding as he poured the wine, Jake said, “It’s a better way to generate electrical power: MHD power generation.”
“MHD?” she asked. “What’s MHD?”
“Magnetohydrodynamics.”
Her jaw dropped. “Oh my god.”
Jake waggled a hand in the air. “Don’t let the term buffalo you. Just call it MHD. It could be Tomlinson’s ticket to the Senate.”
For more than an hour Jake explained the MHD generator to Amy, stressing how it was much more efficient than ordinary power generators.
“And it can burn the kind of high-sulfur coal that we have here, cleanly. They take out the sulfur before it can get out into the environment.”
Amy sipped wine and listened. She didn’t ask many questions, but whenever she looked doubtful Jake explained that point more carefully. It was a skill he had learned from years of teaching classes. Most students are too embarrassed to ask a question and show their peers that they don’t understand something. Jake had learned to recognize that hazy look of confusion or incomprehension and explain the doubtful point without the student having to raise a hand.
At last Jake finished. “That’s it,” he said, feeling excited about the idea again. He ticked off points on his fingers. “More electrical power. More efficient power generation. Lower electric bills. Clean power, no damage to the environment. Reopen the state’s coal mines. Create thousands of new jobs.”
Amy looked impressed. But she asked, “This device actually works?”
“I’ll take you up to Lignite. That’s where they have the big rig. It produced forty-eight megawatts this morning.”
“That sounds impressive,” she said.
“They’ll have to show that it can run for thousands of hours continuously, the way regular generators do,” Jake said. “That could be a big hurdle.”
Amy shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. It doesn’t have to work, Jake. It just has to have the potential of working. If Franklin can offer the potential of reopening the coal mines, of creating all those jobs—that’ll be good enough, believe me.”
“But—”
“I know. You’re a scientist and you want it to work. But this is politics, Jake. The promise is more important than the reality.”
Even though he didn’t want to, Jake frowned at her.
“Don’t scowl,” Amy said, tapping his cheek lightly. “If this helps Franklin to get elected he’ll push for federal funding for the project. You help him, he’ll help you.”
“That’s politics, huh?”
“Yes, it is.” She leaned closer. “I think you’ve done something wonderful, Jake.”
“Not me,” he said, feeling flustered by the nearness of her. Her perfume was enticing, very feminine. “It’s guys like Rogers and Younger…”
“You,” she said, with a hand on his thigh.
Jake pulled her to him and kissed her. Her lips opened slightly and suddenly he was wrapping himself around her and he didn’t give a damn if his bedroom looked like Hiroshima after the bomb.
SEX AND LOVE
Amy’s naked body lay curled against Jake, both of them sweaty and sticky-wet beneath the tangled bedsheet. She nestled in his arms, murmuring in his ear.
Half drowsing, Jake blinked his eyes and asked, “What’d you say?”
“I have to go,” Amy said, in a whisper.
For a moment he didn’t understand. Then, “Leave?”
“Yes.”
“Can’t you stay?”
Amy pushed herself up on one elbow. Nodding toward the digital clock on the night table, she said, “It’s past two. I have a big meeting at nine o’clock.”
“So go to sleep,” he said. “I’ll set the alarm.”
“No. I can’t.” She pulled free of Jake and sat up. “I’ve got to get back to my place.”
“You can use my shower,” he said.
“Thanks, but I’ll shower when I get home.” She slipped out of the bed and started searching in the dark for her clothes.
Jake flicked on the bedside lamp.
“Thanks,” she said as she pulled on her
“More energy? Cleanly?”
Nodding as he poured the wine, Jake said, “It’s a better way to generate electrical power: MHD power generation.”
“MHD?” she asked. “What’s MHD?”
“Magnetohydrodynamics.”
Her jaw dropped. “Oh my god.”
Jake waggled a hand in the air. “Don’t let the term buffalo you. Just call it MHD. It could be Tomlinson’s ticket to the Senate.”
For more than an hour Jake explained the MHD generator to Amy, stressing how it was much more efficient than ordinary power generators.
“And it can burn the kind of high-sulfur coal that we have here, cleanly. They take out the sulfur before it can get out into the environment.”
Amy sipped wine and listened. She didn’t ask many questions, but whenever she looked doubtful Jake explained that point more carefully. It was a skill he had learned from years of teaching classes. Most students are too embarrassed to ask a question and show their peers that they don’t understand something. Jake had learned to recognize that hazy look of confusion or incomprehension and explain the doubtful point without the student having to raise a hand.
At last Jake finished. “That’s it,” he said, feeling excited about the idea again. He ticked off points on his fingers. “More electrical power. More efficient power generation. Lower electric bills. Clean power, no damage to the environment. Reopen the state’s coal mines. Create thousands of new jobs.”
Amy looked impressed. But she asked, “This device actually works?”
“I’ll take you up to Lignite. That’s where they have the big rig. It produced forty-eight megawatts this morning.”
“That sounds impressive,” she said.
“They’ll have to show that it can run for thousands of hours continuously, the way regular generators do,” Jake said. “That could be a big hurdle.”
Amy shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. It doesn’t have to work, Jake. It just has to have the potential of working. If Franklin can offer the potential of reopening the coal mines, of creating all those jobs—that’ll be good enough, believe me.”
“But—”
“I know. You’re a scientist and you want it to work. But this is politics, Jake. The promise is more important than the reality.”
Even though he didn’t want to, Jake frowned at her.
“Don’t scowl,” Amy said, tapping his cheek lightly. “If this helps Franklin to get elected he’ll push for federal funding for the project. You help him, he’ll help you.”
“That’s politics, huh?”
“Yes, it is.” She leaned closer. “I think you’ve done something wonderful, Jake.”
“Not me,” he said, feeling flustered by the nearness of her. Her perfume was enticing, very feminine. “It’s guys like Rogers and Younger…”
“You,” she said, with a hand on his thigh.
Jake pulled her to him and kissed her. Her lips opened slightly and suddenly he was wrapping himself around her and he didn’t give a damn if his bedroom looked like Hiroshima after the bomb.
SEX AND LOVE
Amy’s naked body lay curled against Jake, both of them sweaty and sticky-wet beneath the tangled bedsheet. She nestled in his arms, murmuring in his ear.
Half drowsing, Jake blinked his eyes and asked, “What’d you say?”
“I have to go,” Amy said, in a whisper.
For a moment he didn’t understand. Then, “Leave?”
“Yes.”
“Can’t you stay?”
Amy pushed herself up on one elbow. Nodding toward the digital clock on the night table, she said, “It’s past two. I have a big meeting at nine o’clock.”
“So go to sleep,” he said. “I’ll set the alarm.”
“No. I can’t.” She pulled free of Jake and sat up. “I’ve got to get back to my place.”
“You can use my shower,” he said.
“Thanks, but I’ll shower when I get home.” She slipped out of the bed and started searching in the dark for her clothes.
Jake flicked on the bedside lamp.
“Thanks,” she said as she pulled on her
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