Jake felt almost paranoid about security. “No leaks,” he said to Rogers at least once a day, even while they were puffing and sweating on the basketball court. “No talking about MHD to anybody.”

Rogers grinned good-naturedly, but muttered, “They should’ve put you in charge of the CIA, Jake.”

At least once a week Jake drove up to the big rig facility, where Younger was testing the MHD generator on runs of up to twelve hours.

Growing more nervous with each passing day, Jake insisted to Younger, “If you’ve got the slightest doubt about this, Tim, we can call it off. Just have the celebration and buy the electrical power from the utility company.”

“Don’t worry, Jake,” Younger told him. “The generator’s working like a charm.”

Surprised at the dour Yankee’s uncharacteristic optimism, Jake sputtered, “Like a charm?”

“Yup,” Younger said, straight-faced. “We have to pray over it.”

Humor from Tim Younger? Jake asked himself, almost dumbfounded. Yet he felt better that Younger was still as doubtful and reluctant as usual. It’s good to be careful, he told himself.

Amy Wexler kept Tomlinson away from Lignite. “Franklin’s too outgoing to keep our secret for long,” she explained. “He’ll start schmoozing with the mayor or somebody and let it drop that the whole town’s going to be lit up by the MHD generator.”

Jake agreed. Tomlinson was getting enough coverage from the news media, giving speeches around the state about creating new industries and new jobs.

Senator Leeds was giving speeches, too. He held a mammoth rally in the capital to announce a new federal grant for education.

“This will allow us,” he said, from the steps of the capitol, “to hire hundreds of additional teachers and reduce the teacher/student ratio in our state’s classrooms.”

The crowd roared its approval.

Jake watched Leeds’s speech on the TV in the faculty lounge on campus. Glynis had come in to watch it, too, sitting on the faux leather couch beside Jake. Hardly anyone else in the faculty had bothered to watch; there were only half a dozen others in the lounge.

Jake sighed as the crowd’s applause went on and on and Leeds stood at the podium, smiling handsomely, his arms raised above his head.

“I’ll bet most of the people in that crowd belong to the teachers’ union,” said one of the professors.

“Maybe so,” the woman sitting next to him agreed, “but you’ve got to admit, Leeds brings home the bacon.”

The pork, Jake corrected silently.

Glynis looked somewhere between contempt and disgust. “Have you read the details of the grant he’s talking about?” she asked Jake.

He shook his head. All the others were getting up and leaving the lounge, heading back to their offices or classrooms. Glynis hadn’t budged and Jake didn’t move from her side.