CHAPTER 42: NEW REACTORS, OLD MENTORS

"Alright, James. The rest of the reactor fleet is ready to go. How is our grid looking?" asked Aaron, as he entered the control room.

"Well, the grid is stable, and we can handle the load of four 400 MW reactors. However, I would recommend that we only bring them online one at a time, to avoid overloading the grid." said James, his voice steady.

"OK fuel loading reactor number 2," said Aaron.

With a few keystrokes, drones began to load the reactor core with fuel rods. The pumps began to circulate the pressurized heavy water coolant and moderator, and the reactor slowly came to life, its deep rumble muted by the thick lead shielding and the control room’s soundproofing.

"Reactor 2 approaching critical, turbines spooling up," reported Aaron.

"Relays are stable, power is ramping up," reported James over the intercom.

"Reactor 2 is now at 100% power. James, switch the grid to internal power," said Aaron, as he watched the reactor’s power output stabilize.

"Switching to internal power," said James, as the lights in the control room flickered and then stabilized.

"Excellent. James, how much surplus are we selling back to the State Grid?" asked Aaron.

"Works out to $20,000 per hour as of now," said James.

"Well, that number’s about to grow," said Aaron, as he started the fuel loading sequence for reactor 3.

"Hang on, boss. If we dump over a gigawatt into the grid, we might just tank the energy market," warned James.

"There’s no such thing as too much energy, James. Demand will rise to meet supply," said Aaron, as he watched the drones load the reactor core with fuel rods.

"Well, you’re the one who has to explain that to Congressman DuPont," replied James.

"I’ll handle it. Reactor 3 is now online. Fuel loading reactor 4," said Aaron, as he started the fuel loading sequence for the last reactor in the fleet.

"OK, surplus is now at 1000 MW. The rest of the utilities companies are going to be pissed," said James, as he watched the power output stabilize.

"They should have gone nuclear when they had the chance. Now they can go play with their solar and wind farms," chuckled Aaron.

The intercom buzzed, and Natasha’s voice came through. "Master Zakhrov, you have visitors, a Father Abel and a Catherine Davis,"

"On my way," said Aaron, as he left the control room and headed for the Temporary Office.

----

"Father Abel, Miss Davis. It’s been a long time," said Aaron, as he entered the Temporary Office.

"Sure has been," chuckled Father Abel, as Catherine smiled warmly at Aaron.

"So? What brings you two here?" asked Aaron, as he sat down at his desk.

Catherine placed a battered paper form on his desk. "I know that you may not have any love for St. Ignatius Academy, Mr. Zakhrov, but we are badly in need of donations. A recent school shooting has left us with a lot of expenses, and our infrastructure is in dire need of repairs," she said.

Aaron raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think that I have no love for St. Ignatius Academy, Ms. Davis? I understood the political machinations that led to my expulsion, and I still have fond memories of the school," he said.

Catherine sighed in relief, before her tone turned melancholic.

"I suppose you haven’t heard about the school shooting that happened a few weeks ago?" she asked.

"No, I haven’t," replied Aaron.

Father Abel sighed, and his eyes teared up a little. He pulled out his phone and showed Aaron a news article about the shooting. Pictures of the bullet-ridden bodies of two security guards were plastered across the screen, the article mentioning that the school had been the battlefield of a gang war that had erupted in the area, that the security guards had bravely defended the evacuating students, and the principal had been hospitalized with three bullets extracted from his body.

"I suppose we were lucky that there were no student fatalities," said Father Abel, his voice cracking slightly.

"How did that happen?" asked Aaron.

"A lot changed after you left. The school is now a mixed charter school, and the admission policy has been relaxed to allow more students in. The gang violence has been on the rise ever since," said Father Abel, his voice grim.

"I see. What would it take to bring it back under Jesuit and private control?" asked Aaron, his eyes narrowed.

Father Abel gulped seeing the glint in Aaron’s blue eyes.

"An investor willing to fund the transition back to a private institution." he said cautiously.

"Harry, get over here to the Temporary Office, we’ve got a new project," said Aaron over the intercom.

"On my way, boss," replied Harry.

----

"Father Abel? Miss Davis? What are you two doing here?" asked Harry, as he entered the Temporary Office.

"They came here for donations to rebuild St. Ignatius Academy’s infrastructure after the gang-war," said Aaron.

"Oh yeah. I heard about that. Horrible stuff," sighed Harry.

"I’m considering investing in the school, and bringing it back under Jesuit and private control. As an alumnus who wasn’t expelled, what’s your take?" asked Aaron.

"I’d say it’s an awesome idea. But the school’s totally different now," said Harry, sitting down.

"If I’m going to invest, then I want the school to go back to its roots, that means the uniform code, the admission criteria, and then some. Are you willing to accept those conditions?" asked Aaron of Father Abel and Catherine.

Catherine squirmed in her seat, "What do you mean by ’and then some’?" she asked cautiously.

Aaron looked her up and down, taking in her faded white sneakers, blue jeans and cream-colored sweater. "Do you remember the first time we met Ms. Davis?" he asked her, as she squirmed further under his gaze.

"How could I forget that stare? You were probably the first student to ever meet my gaze without flinching," she chuckled.

"Let’s just say that you’re lucky Father Abel is here to compensate for your fall in standards of presentation," said Aaron.

"He means you should have never given up your no-nonsense skirt-suit and power heels," chuckled Father Abel, seeing Catherine’s confused expression.

Catherine blinked, and then sprang to her feet. "Is that any way to speak to your former vice principal Mr. Zakhrov?" she barked, her eyes flashing.

"Now that’s the Ms. Catherine Davis we all know and love!" chuckled Harry.

Catherine folded her arms and glared down at Harry.

"What’s so funny Mr. Smith? Yes, don’t think for a second that I haven’t forgotten your brazen innuendoes towards me when you were in the 10th grade!" she snarled.

"Hey, you looked smoking hot back then, and I’m pretty sure that you still clean up nicely. I consider it my greatest privilege to have been taught English by such a hot babe of a teacher," said Harry, grinning.

"That’s the ’and then some’ Miss Davis. Discipline, decorum and deportment under pressure," said Aaron, as Catherine sat back down, her face flushed.

"These boys! Such troublemakers!" she sighed, shaking her head, but trying to hide a smile.

"Cathy, you know that they are right. Crass as Mr. Smith is, he does have a point. You are a great vice principal, but enforcing discipline works better when you project authority," said Father Abel.

Catherine took a deep breath. "Well, I suppose we don’t have much of a choice. If you are willing to invest in the school, then I will accept your conditions," she said.

"Not so fast, Miss Davis. I want to see my old Alma Mater before I commit to anything, we can do the inspection now if you’d like," said Aaron.

"Of course, Mr. Zakhrov. We can leave right now," said Catherine, standing up with Father Abel.