28. Cold, Hard Reality

COLD, HARD REALITY

MADDY

We are all very quiet on the way back to the Bunker. Outside the van, I can see people walking up and down the sidewalks. We pass storefronts, then a warehouse district, then open countryside and back to the glass front that looks as if it is erupting from the hillside.

I feel as if we have been gone for hours, but when I look at my phone, I see that it is not quite ten o'clock in the morning.

Andrew looks tired and drawn, as if he aged ten years since we left the secure apartment. Even Paul is quiet. I'm not sure how much he understands of what is transpiring. He is a precocious, exceptionally mature youngster, but he is only nine years old.

"Penny for them?" I ask Andrew.

He seems to shake himself, then gives me his attention. "Don't worry," he says. "Paul will not inherit a company that includes illegal drug labs, secret farms, human trafficking, or sex workers."

"Are all those things part of Aims Corp?" I ask.

"Probably," he says. "And dismantling the illegal parts will be quite a challenge."

I turn that over in my mind, while I nibble at a cuticle — a habit I thought I had ditched at the beginning of grad school. "I think I understand," I say, "but why don't you lay it out for me?"

"All right," Andrew says. "Let's start with the meth labs. Do you remember Breaking Bad?"

I give a little shudder. "I saw one episode, then I avoided it. Somehow it never seemed quite logical to me."

"That's because you have strong, solid ethics. You would never want to leave Paul with the kind of burden that would land on him if you were caught creating illegal drugs."

I nod. Andrew was certainly right about that.

"But," he goes on, "What if you were in a situation where running drugs, or being a mule, or selling your body brought in not only the best money you could make, but the only money? Would you let Paul starve or would you take the shady, risky job?"

I thought about that. If Kate and Charles had not been there for me, I could easily have been in that situation. "I guess I'd take whatever job I could get," I say slowly. "But I think I'd rather have a food cart or work in a factory than put other people's lives in danger."

Andrew sighed. "See, here's the thing. In an area controlled by a criminal organization, chances are you'd have to get approval to stand on a street corner and beg. I have to give Grandfather credit where credit is due. I remember when he took over from his Grandfather. I was eleven or twelve at the time. One of the first things he did was to set up soup kitchens and shelters."

"What happened?" I ask.

Andrew shrugged. "About what you might expect. The soup kitchens served the worst food you can imagine, and the shelters were essentially flop houses. It wasn't what he envisioned, but he was only one man. So he used his enforcers to clean up the shelters, used the drug money to buy real food, and he even created some scholarships."

Paul turns around in his seat, straining against the seat belt to peer over the back. "Doesn't that make him kind of a hero? Sort of like Robin Hood?"

"Not really," Andrew replies. "Bad things still happened. Some of the people he hired to take care of situations turned out to be worse than what went before."

I deliberately take my hand away from my face and wrap my fingers around my thumb, which is now painfully raw next to the nail from where I had nibbled on it. "Couldn't you just have all the people who are doing illegal things arrested?" I ask, knowing even as I say the words that I'm probably being hopelessly naive.

"Ever play in a mud puddle?" Andrew asks.

"Not really," I say. "My mother would have had a fit."

He thinks a minute. "So here's the deal. Suppose you have a super muddy puddle. It's right after a rain, and a car has just splashed through it. You take a cup or something and you scoop as much of the water out of the puddle as you can."

"Okay," I say. "You then have a hole where the water was, right?"

"Maybe," Andrew returns. "You might have a hole with nothing in it — which is a bad thing if you need water. Or more water could rush in, and become just as muddy as the water that was there before. To really clean up the water, you need a filter and you need some way to clean or use the mud."

"People aren't water or mud," Paul says. "You have to feed them and make them happy if you want them to be good. Kind of like Carousel. He was scared, hungry, and lonesome. Now, he's a super good kitty."

"It's more complicated than that with people," Andrew says. "But you have the right idea, Paul. You can talk all day about morality, but if you want people to do better they need to be well fed and to feel secure."

"But what if you have someone who thinks they need caviar and champagne to feel full, and a wall topped with howitzers to feel safe?" I ask.

Andrew sighs. "And that is part of the other end of the problem. Top that off with how difficult it is to persuade someone who is used to making several thousand dollars in a night to accept making twenty or thirty, and to then live on what they earn. Much as I hate to admit it, big crime pays big — right up until you get caught or someone gets killed."

"No easy answers?" I ask gently.

"No easy answers," Andrew says grimly. "If I'm going to prevent handing Paul a company riddled with graft, criminal side hustles, and a whole lot more, I'm going to have to step pretty fancy. I just hope those ledgers Grandfather is sending to Austin will give me some clue where to begin."

"Wow! You're going to be like a business ninja!" Paul says, his eyes shining with admiration.

Andrew sighs, and leans back in the comfortable seat. "I'll settle for just turning Aims Corp into a real business that does ordinary business things."

I slip my hand into his. "You don't have to do it alone," I say. "I'll help. And we have friends who know how these things work. And family who care about ethical business practices."

"I'm counting on that," Andrew says. Then he grins at me with wry humor, "Because, dammit Maddy, I'm a doctor not a businessman."

Paul looks puzzled, but Austin whoops with laughter from the front, then his reflection grins at us from the rear-view mirror. "How long have you been saving up to say that line?"

"On, I don't know," Andrew says. "Since I passed medical boards? No, actually, I've used versions of it before. After all, the character said it at least once an episode."

"So right," Austin says, still grinning. "You should talk to Richard and Charles. Richard had a real fun time cleaning up Lane Enterprise. Charles started his company, but straight shooter that he is, there are still times where he has to make some tough ethical decisions. But the guy you really need to consult is Laird Tulok. Ildogis was once a pirate hideout, you know."

"I didn't know that," I say. "Did you know it, Andrew?"

"Can't say that I did," he returns. "A single summer there wasn't enough to do more than see the tourist sights. Meanwhile, are you ready to sustain me through a series of what are probably going to be long, boring business meetings?"

"I'll do my best," I say. Then I punch him lightly in the arm, "but dammit, Andy, I'm a nurse not a counselor."

That set us all to laughing. Our problems weren't gone, but the mood was less strained.

After he wiped his eyes, Andrew said, "I'm not some backcountry sheriff either. Please don't call me Andy. I got plenty of teasing in school over my name. The short form doesn't bring back any good memories."

"I'm sorry," I say. "No offense meant."

"None taken, this time," he says. "Austin, can you call a meeting at the Bunker for when we get back? This is not going to be fun, but I think the sooner we get started the more easily the worst of it can be mended."

"Already on it," Austin answers. "The Bunker has a big conference room, and everyone should be there by the time we arrive."

Inwardly, I groan. Another big family meeting of Lanes is not something I'm looking forward to.

Rylie and Slugger Lane meet us at the parking garage door. "You survived!" she exclaims.

"Was there any doubt?" Andrew asks.

"Maybe a little bit?" she says. "Grandfather is scary. When we used to watch the Nutcracker at Christmas time, I always thought he looked like the weird uncle, or maybe the Rat King."

"We made it through safely," I assure her. "He was in a hospital bed, and seemed more sad and tired than anything."

Rylie just looks at me as if I have recently fallen off a turnip truck. "That doesn't make him less dangerous," she says. "The adults are gathering in the big conference room. Mrs. Hubbard and Julia have the kids in the main classroom. They are setting up a LAN party. Some sort of antique video game called Ultima, I believe."

"Ultima?" Paul exclaims with excitement. "I've always wanted to play it, but the website went down and I could never find it again."

"Come on, then," Slugger says. "Julia is setting up the computers with help from my younger sibs. Cece is bossing the staff that are setting up refreshments."

"What kind?" Paul asks.

"Chips and juice for now," the youth says. "But I think the kitchen is sending up pizza."

"Mom?" Paul asks.

"Go," I say. "You'd be bored to tears, I'm sure."

We parted ways at the elevators. Slugger and Paul went up, while we followed Rylie through a pair of double doors just around the corner.

The set up looked like any board room meeting. A stack of ledgers sits in the middle of a giant table.

Andrew hesitates at the door. Laird Tulok rises and bows, which cues everyone else to stand. "We have saved the best seat for you, Mr. Andrew Lane, and the one next to it for your wife. Will you do the honors?"

Andrew offers me his right elbow, as if we are entering a grand ballroom. He escorts me to the vacant side chair, then stands behind the podium placed at the head of the table.

At the back of the room, a silent screen is playing a view of the last night of "Burning Man," a yearly celebration held in the desert. I'm not sure what that has to do with anything, but I'm certain I will find out.

Andrew looks around the room. "Just get comfortable, folks. We are all family here, so we shouldn't have to follow strict parliamentary procedure. If you will please be polite, and allow others to speak, this will probably go more smoothly."

Everyone sat. From the bottom of the table, Old Emily speaks up, "How is he?"

"He is dying," Andrew says. "I have agreed to take over Aims Corp until Paul is of age. He has made Paul his legal heir, but that is not to go beyond this room."

Tulok laughs. "This is a mighty big audience for keeping secrets."

"A select audience," Andrew says. "All of whom have a vested interest in steering Aims Corp into a better direction. Madeline, Paul, Austin and I discussed some of the difficulties on the way here. I'm sure I don't need to go over them with all of you."

There were general head shakes and nods, all indicating their understanding of the situation.

Andrew goes on. "I am taking over a hostile company that will need to be weaned off illegal activities. In some cases, those activities will need to stop immediately. Others can be addressed more gradually. Fortunately, Grandfather had begun investing in legal enterprises before Rylie was born. However, his definition of "legal" and "ethical" are somewhat fluid."

Old Emily lets out a cackle. "I'll say."

Andrew gives her a look, and she rests her chin on one hand and looks back demurely. "One thing Madeline and I discussed is that you cannot take away someone's livelihood without replacing it with something else. While you might not think of them in that way, most of Grandfather's people are family men and women. That means spouses and children to support, aging parents, even pets. At this point, I am stumped as to how to do it. The floor is open for discussion."

Richard Lane lifts his hand, and Andrew dips his head to recognize him. "I might have an idea about that," he says. "You see that screen at the end of the room?"

Andrew nods. I hope he understands Mr. Richard Lane's idea, because I can't see how a bunch of wild and crazy people inhabiting the desert for a weekend or a week can have anything to do with our needs.

"This is not a full answer," he explains, "but Richard and I have discussed it, and we think we can make it work. The people who participate in Burning Man are dedicated to equality — anyone can take part. They place value on what they call "gifting." They follow ten common sense principles, which include following local, state, and federal laws. They also borrow from the Scouts, leaning on the idea of ‘leave it better than you found it.' It's like this giant, self-governing party held once yearly."

Kandis frowns across the table at her husband. "I think you are just sold on the idea of ‘one big party.' Richard, I know you like the idea, but I seem to recall that the principles are not as carefully applied as one could wish."

Kate just gives a quiet smile. She peers around her husband, who is regarding this debate between Richard and Kandis gravely, and gives me a wink.

Right. Let the men bluster and present the impossible so we can then get down to what is really possible.

Andrew smiles gently at the couple at the end of the table. "It is an interesting concept. As a gathering of artists, it mostly works. But I believe Kandis is correct in saying that there are several problems with it, including that the area where ‘Black Rock City' as it is called, is erected each year has dust so alkaline as to be nearly toxic. Other ideas?"