She pushed away. “And forget everything that’s going to happen? You’ve chosen a path for yourself, Dan, that I can’t travel with you.”
“We’ll just see. We—”
“Everybody!” Kate Masters called from the living room. “Quick … gather around. I’ve got some news for all of you.”
“I wonder what’s going on?” Lanie asked, turning quickly to avoid Newcombe and walking back into the living room.
He followed dutifully, not able to gauge the intensity of her words. He didn’t mind her being angry at him. It was the pulling away that hurt. Things had been so good this time. What had happened to drive her so far away? He couldn’t believe it was the NOI stance. She knew he had a big mouth. And the publication? Didn’t his giving the big check to Crane show the goodness of his intentions?
Crane and Whetstone, who’d arrived only minutes before, joined the group, drinks in their hands. Burt Hill lay half asleep on a sofa near where Masters stood.
“I’ve been conferencing with my board for the last half hour,” Kate said. “And we’ve made an executive decision.”
“Let’s hear it,” Whetstone said.
Kate ran her hands through her red hair. “I’m waiting for the drum roll.”
Burt Hill pounded rhythmically on his stomach.
Kate turned to Crane. “As president of the Women’s Political Association, I am pleased to announce that we have reconsidered our decision to take your grant money away and are awarding you, for calendar 2025, a sum of five million dollars for earthquake research.”
Crane roared with pleasure as everyone applauded. Masters turned to Lanie. “And you have this woman and her eloquent plea to thank for it. I used some frames of Lanie’s talk with me today to show the board. It passed unanimously.”
Lanie hugged Kate, then turned to Crane, who had made his way to her side. The two of them shared a long, meaningful look before hugging fiercely. Newcombe felt dark vibrations.
“My thanks to the Women’s Political Association,” Crane said. “You have shown great wisdom.”
Standing in a loose circle around Kate, everyone laughed, Crane smiling broadly. The jubilation subsided in moments. Whetstone cast a shrewd glance at Dan and Lanie. “Crane tells me,” he said, “that you tracked the sabotage on the Memphis quake. Hard to believe anyone so closely associated with the project would be that malicious, isn’t it?”
There was an uncomfortable silence. Lanie sighed heavily, Newcombe was scowling. Crane’s expression was unreadable. The three of them had talked off and on in the last day and a half about the meaning, the possible impact of the sabotage, and the conversations had served only to make them weary and depressed. Finally, Kate spoke up.
“Do you think Sumi Chan had anything to do with your problems? I like him, but there’s something quite odd going on with that man.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Crane said. He’d fought a hard battle with himself on the subject of the saboteur, triumphed over his rage, and wanted to move on. “The question now is how to repair the damage and make people listen to us again.”
“Not possible,” Whetstone said with authority. “All you are to people now, Crane, is the crazy man who fooled everyone. You don’t recover from that.”
“They’ll have to listen,” Crane said, almost shouting.
Whetstone’s bushy brows arched high. “You’ve recalibrated your figures? You’ve got another date?”
“February 27th,” Newcombe interjected.
“You’re kidding,” Kate said, looking sharply at Crane.
“Unfortunately, no. We’re dead—I repeat, dead—serious,” Crane said, his expression somber.
“Yes, but are you dead certain?” Kate asked impudently.
“Dead certain,” Crane bit out.
“So that’s why you got me here,” Whetstone said. “Okay, what do you want from me?”
“Check your liquidity lately, Stoney?” Crane asked.
“I don’t have to check. If I need hard cash, I can get hold of about three billion dollars, give or take a couple of hundred million.”
“I want to borrow it,” Crane said.
Whetstone laughed. “I imagine you do. And what would you do with it?”
“Place a bet.”
“A bet! I think your jail time has left you completely unhinged. What sort of bet?”
“I want to place a bet with the American people that an earthquake will take place on the Reelfoot Rift on February 27th, 2025. I want the wager to be run through a third-party accounting firm that will verify the numbers and insure impartiality. We’ll give two-to-one odds. People can take up to fifty dollars of that bet, to be paid off the day after the earthquake is predicted if it doesn’t come off.”
“You want to bet three billion dollars of my money that you have correctly predicted the day of the quake, is that right?” Whetstone asked.
“It’ll look like a sucker bet,” Crane said.
“Look like!” Whetstone said loudly. “It is!”
“We’re not wrong, Stoney. We can’t miss. At fifty bucks a pop, a lot of people will get in on the action. The teev will love to cover it because you stand to lose so much. We’ll get our exposure again, maybe even convince some people we’re right and get them the hell out of the danger zones. Once we win the bet, our credibility is restored, plus we won’t have to play politics—the Foundation won’t need government funds to keep running.”
Whetstone just stared at him. “You’re mad.”
“Am I?” Crane returned. “The stress readings don’t lie, and this time I’ll bet we even have the Ellsworth-Beroza to back us up as we get closer to the time.”
“Look, Crane. I’m as altruistic as the next person, but I didn’t manage to make billions of dollars by being an idiot. Why should I risk almost all of my cash on a scheme you’ve already failed at once?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Crane said.
“There’s nothing right about gambling my money away. I’d be ruined. Couldn’t you do it with a million or so?”
“No. The numbers need to be enormous in order to get the exposure and keep interest alive.”
Whetstone shook his white-haired head. “I respect you,” he said, “but this time—”
“May I say something?” Lanie asked, everyone turning to stare at her. No one shut her up, so she continued. “I’ve been working the project for over six months now, taking Crane’s idea for the globe and trying to make it reality. It’s forming before my eyes. My job is to talk to it, to make it understand what it’s trying to accomplish, and as I do so, I’m continually struck by the amazing possibilities beyond EQ prediction.”
“Such as?” Masters asked.
“Such as long-range weather prediction. The Earth, for all of its largesse, is really a totally closed, self-sustaining system on a huge scale that operates under its own set of rigid principles. The globe can make them understandable. It may be the most important piece of machinery ever devised. If we can predict weather patterns long range, it means we can plot areas of famine and plenty, and we can do it years in advance, planning for them, knowing where and when to grow food, where relief will be needed, when hurricanes, floods, and tornados are going to cause destruction.
“Mr. Whetstone, do you understand the implications of what I’m saying? You can help make the globe a life-sustaining, nurturing reality. It has the capacity of changing forever life on planet Earth in the most positive of ways. We may never be able to control the Earth, but we can understand it, which is the next best thing. Don’t take this away from the people of the world.”