Good Intentions - Jeff Thomason (paper ebook reader TXT) 📗

Good Intentions

by Jeff Thomason

Copyright 2012 Jeff Thomason

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictional. Any resemblance to real people—either living or dead—or places is purely coincidental. All prominent characters, names, and places are trademarks of Jeff Thomason. All rights reserved. Cover uses Urban Skyline At Night by Petr Kratochvil.

My name is Venn Di Graham. I’m sure you grimaced at the mention of my name, but hear me out. I’m not the villain they’ve made me out to be. I’m really not. It’s all been a big mistake. None of this was supposed to happen. My intentions were good. It was greed that twisted my gift into that … monstrosity hanging over our heads. But don’t let the current state of affairs mislead you into thinking the project was a bad idea; it wasn’t. The theory was sound; the principles noble. That’s why I’m recording this … this … I’m not sure what to call it. My last confession? No, that makes it sound religious, and I certainly don’t want that. It’s just … well … maybe I should start at the beginning. Then you’ll see I am completely innocent of any wrongdoing. In fact, I’m just another victim like you.

It all began in the fourth grade. The day was like any other. I sat trying to get through yet another lecture by my teacher Ms. Newman. Who could have guessed those few minutes were about to change my life? Never doubt for a moment that teachers can change the world. Mine certainly did. I wasn’t a very dedicated student then. I’m sure that surprises you. Someone with my achievements must have been a prodigy from the beginning, you’re probably saying to yourself. Well, I wasn’t. And I didn’t need to be. I’ve always believed people are a result of their environment not their genetics, and I am proof of that. It was my environment that started me on the path to becoming the preeminent authority in astronomical phenomena I am today—not some random protein sequences inherited from two people who had too much to drink one night. No, it was all environment, specifically, a teacher who understood the importance of science and wasn’t afraid to share it with us despite the barrage of complaints hurled at her by certain ignorant parents who accused her of “corrupting” her students with all her “theories” and other blasphemes. It was all a load of hooey. She taught science. Science deals with facts, not stories and superstitions used to justify an antiquated code of morality.

Before Ms. Newman, science always bored me. It was just one more thing to waste my time. But she showed me how it was part of everything we did in life. I realized that only through science and logic could the human race discover the ultimate truths of the universe. I don’t understand why everyone can’t understand that. It’s self-evident. And yet half the population, it seems, continues to believe in their fables. Shouldn’t they have grown out of such things by the time they were ten? Imaginary friends don’t exist no matter how powerful or all knowing you make them out to be. But I’m getting off on a tangent, and I have less than an hour before they come for me. I’ve got to get this down before then, or no one will ever know the truth.

So that day in fourth grade, Ms. Newman introduced the class to asteroids and meteorites and the dangers they pose. She taught us they were the cause of the dinosaurs’ extinction over a decade before the scientific community officially voted it to be true. That’s how forward thinking she was.

One student—not me, but I wish it had been—asked if it could ever happen again. She told us not only was it possible, but it was just a matter of time. Another student asked why someone didn’t alert the government to the danger. She said they were well aware of it but were too busy throwing away money on wars and tax breaks for the rich to worry about a little thing like the survival of the human race. In fact, no government in the world was taking the threat seriously and making preparations to stop it even though it was their job to keep us safe and make sure no one suffered. At the time I couldn’t understand how people could support such an irresponsible group of men. Later I learned one doesn’t get elected for doing what is best for the people, but what is most popular and makes a nice sound bite. Spending billions of dollars on a weapon to avert a catastrophe that may not occur for hundreds of years is not on the top of most people’s lists. But all I could think about at that moment was how I had to do something to save the world. I decided then and there to learn everything I could about science and construct a defense myself.

I began watching science programs on PBS after school and asked my mom and stepfather for subscriptions to scientific magazines for Christmas. They thought it was strange but slightly healthier than video games, so they paid for the magazines. In high school I took every science class available. I was very disappointed they didn’t offer astronomy, which had become my first love. So I had to study it on my own.

After graduation, I was accepted to a top, Ivy League university with a full scholarship. That was a big relief to my mom and her third husband who were struggling to pay for two new cars and a six-bedroom house. Fortunately for me, Ivy League schools believe in equal opportunity for all so they give special preference to those with brown skin; I would have never gotten in on merit alone.

In high school no one was as rational or as logical as I was. I thought that was because they were teenagers going through puberty and college would be different. It turns out most people never grow out of it. They let emotions and feelings guide their decisions. This meant scientific knowledge alone wouldn’t be sufficient to save the world. So I double majored in Political Science and became involved in the Democratic Student Society. I ran for office several times, losing my first few elections until I learned the tricks to winning votes. I eventually became Student Body Vice President.

After earning my PhD, I went to work for a state senator. I saw how the system worked from the inside and what it took to push a bill through to law. I was horrified how little the merits of the bill had to do with its passage. It disgusted me at first, but after learning which hoops to jump through, I was able to help move more progressive measures through. I told myself the ends justified the means, and eventually I believed it.

When the Senator died unexpectedly, I threw my hat into the ring. It was a tough election, but I had picked up enough tricks helping the late senator with her last campaign to ensure a victory. Once in office, I pushed for stronger math and science requirements in schools, determined to make my state number one in education. Ironically, my fellow Democrats wanted funding to go to the arts and the humanities instead, so I found myself siding with the opposition on matters of education reform. I guess Republicans are good for something.

After serving in the state senate for four years, I made my bid for Washington and became a representative at 34 and a senator at 38. I was the youngest ethnic man to accomplish such a feat. That gained me a good deal of national attention and celebrity, which I used to push through dozens of progressive reforms in research, energy, nutrition, and social issues. I faced a lot of opposition from groups who wanted to continue living in the 18th century. The world had changed; why couldn’t they?

After nearly a decade of winning friends and building my circle of influence, I finally introduced the bill I’d spent my life working towards: to fund and construct a killer asteroid defense system.

It didn’t even make it out of committee.

I spent the next twenty years trying to push the legislation through, but no one wanted to divert funding from their causes to champion this one. Many ridiculed me and used me to divert attention from their many blunders and scandals.

While most working class Americans don’t qualify for early retirement until they reach 75, congressmen can retire at 58 with full benefits. It seemed my dream of an asteroid defense system would never be more than that. It was time to settle down in a small mansion by a private lake and live out the rest of my days hoping I would go before the world did.

Then the most marvelous thing happened. A meteor struck a major city in Iowa and killed over 30,000 people! Overnight the country rallied to my cause. Senators lined up in droves to co-sponsor my bill. It was fast tracked it through committee, moved to the top of the agenda in the Senate, passed with 96–4, flew through the House, and then onto the White House where it was signed into law before the end of the week. I don’t think any piece of legislation ever passed through the system so quickly and with so little resistance. After two decades of work, I was an “overnight” success. Like I said, people are governed by their emotions, not their logic.

It took more than ten years to design the Asteroid Defense System—as it was officially christened—and several more to build. Nikola Tesla’s lost journal had been discovered which detailed plans for an energy weapon of enormous power. Of course, several changes had to be made, because our understanding of the fundamental forces had progressed greatly since then thanks to the discoveries made at CERN and their supercollider.

It was decided to create a ring of such weapons around the world so they were in position to destroy an asteroid regardless of which direction it came from. I was involved with each step of the process. But it wasn’t without its challenges. Fortunately, another senator stepped up to the plate and helped me overcome each obstacle as it occurred.

To fund the project, a budget larger than any in US history had to be passed, even larger than the Obama budgets, which had bankrupted the country years early and forced the States to step in take over the country’s pocketbook. Taxes on those who earned over $100,000 were already at European levels so they couldn’t go any higher, and no country had been willing to loan the US money after the Chinese debacle the decade before. The other senator suggested doing the only thing we could: sell off public assets. The pieces in the Smithsonian fetched the highest prices. Literally hundreds of collectors had been trying to get their hands on such rare and well-preserved specimens for years, and now they could do it legally and be a patriot at the same time. And as an added bonus, the money being spent on maintaining the collection could now be used on the project. The public lands didn’t generate as much revenue as we hoped—apparently most of the land set aside as wilderness preserve had been so designated because it wasn’t good for much else. We needed more funds.

An election was coming up, and to be in a better position to generate those funds, the other senator became the running mate of the Democratic candidate. They won by a small margin. Shortly after his inauguration, the President found himself embroiled in a scandal even greater than Nixon and Clinton combined. He