building, to an office where Senator Mark Hunt was waiting, seated in a leather chair behind a large desk. As they entered, the senator spoke. âAh, young Mr. Wells, I presume.â
âYes,â Jeff replied. He had read much about Senator Hunt in the newspapers over the last several months, as had everyone in the country. Most of the media proclaimed him to be the answer to the nationâs troubles.
With the economy in its thirtieth month of recession and more than twenty million Americans unemployed, a change of administration was certain, and the front-runners were Senator Hunt and Governor Crow. According to the papers President Kilborne still had a chance, but only if the economy took an unexpected turn. Personally, Jeff liked Kilborne. He had a lot of good ideas, but he was saddled with an economy so burdened by debt that many predicted another five years of recession before it would begin to recover.
Jeff was greeted with a warm smile as Senator Hunt motioned for him to sit down in the chair nearest his desk. Cal Rutland took a chair across the room, as if to become a spectator.
âI assume you know who I am, Jeff?â
âYes, sir,â Jeff said honestly, relaxing a bit as he felt the personal warmth of Huntâs smile and courtesy.
âI wonât try to snow you, Jeff . . . uh, may I call you Jeff?â
âYes, of course.â
âGood! I understand youâre some kind of computer whiz. Is that right, Jeff?â
âWell, I donât know about that, Senator Hunt,â Jeff said hesitantly.
âPlease. Call me Mark. And donât be so humble. I like men who are the best at what they do. If Iâm going to lead this country out of the mess itâs in, Iâm going to need men who are confident of their own abilities.â He glanced across the room at his aide as he added, âCal here thinks youâre the best at what you do. Or youâre going to be.â
Cal twisted a bit in his chair but remained silent.
âI need your help, Jeff,âHunt continued. âWhen Iâm elected president, weâre going to need to bring this nationâs economic system out of the dark ages, and it will take all of us working together to do it. We can no longer hide our heads in the sand.â
âBut Senatorâuh, Mark, I donât know anything about economics. Surely you have advisers who . . .â
Hunt didnât let him finish. âI have plenty of people who understand how economics used to work, Jeff. We donât need those old-fashioned ideas anymore. We must either become innovators or become a third-rate power. My administration will have the best minds working on the economic models. What I will need most is that computer brain of yours. Cal tells me you stumped the boys at Livermore.â
âWell, I donât know, sir. They didnât want to believe what my program predicted.â
âIdiots, Jeff. You remember that. They are idiots! Itâs the same mentality that is trying to hold this country back. I want you to learn all there is to know about how the world banking system operates. Then I want you to design a computer system that will track every electronic financial transaction in the world.â
Jeff wasnât sure he had heard correctly.âTrack every transaction? Why that would take a computer larger than . . .â
Hunt interrupted to say, âI donât care what it takes, Jeff. We have the same kind of idiots working at the World Bank that you saw at Livermore. Dr. Eison and a few enlightened souls will cooperate. Your job will be to galvanize them into a working team, and Cal will handle the others,â he said, glancing across the room at Rutland.
âYou see, Jeff, everyone we have contacted so far says that it would take a computer that doesnât exist yet to do what I want. But letâs not worry about that now. I want you to design a program that will make the Data-Net work
Jason Padgett, Maureen Ann Seaberg