Chapter Text
Al can't believe his eyes as he looks up more than six stories at the windows that peered into the nighttime sky. It has taken him the better part of two weeks to talk his way onto the guest list of the Senator's Ball, the annual black-tie event that masqueraded as the largest impromptu congressional session of the U.S. government. Tonight, deals are made, laws will pass, and alliances strengthen or fail. The top political players of the nation are all here, and Al Calavicci, director of project Star Bright, needs to convince no less than 40 million dollars out of them.
He stands in an immaculately pressed Navy dress white uniform, next to one of eight massive marble pillars of the Great Hall of the National Building Museum. A slow sweep of the glamorously dressed crowd lands his eyes on a familiar face. Christopher Evans, an old friend from his NASA days, is alone at the far end of the lavishly decorated room. Al smiles to himself. His recent string of bad luck may be changing. Chris is a congressman for Nevada and one of the leaders of the Future Technologies Committee. His influence in scientific funding endeavors is quickly growing and it just so happens he owes Al a big favor.
Al approaches the man in the black tuxedo.
"Al?" the other man exclaims in recognition. "No way. Is that really you?"
"Chris," Al smiles in response. "It's been too long. How the heck are you? And what the hell have you been up to? Don't give me that space reconnaissance program crap because I know it's just a cover."
"Jeez Al," Chris replies good-naturedly, "it's good to see you, too. Am I that transparent?"
Al shares a chuckle with his friend. "Well I could comment on how you look, but you aren't getting any prettier with age."
Chris, holding a glass of scotch in his right hand, motions in mock submission. "We can't all have the Calavicci genes, right?"
Al is momentarily caught off guard by the flash of amber liquid against the crystal tumbler. His taste buds tingle as he updates the tally in his mind. He's been dry for the past eight hours, a record in recent memory.
"Al?" Chris's voice pulls him back to the party.
"Hmm?"
"How's Maxie doing? She still wants to join the roller derby?"
"She's uh…you know, I don't really know. We divorced about a year and a half ago. She ran off with a bricklayer, if you believe it."
Chris looks at his friend in surprise. Maxine was Al's fourth wife and now fourth divorce since he first met the man. She was good for him, though, unlike the one before. She had a crazy streak of adventure and passion that matches Al's almost perfectly. He remembers a yearlong stint when they went to Vegas almost every weekend to "renew their vows." Chris shakes his head. Al has always been a walking contradiction when it comes to women. The guy is an unabashed womanizer, but also the most loyal person that probably ever lived.
"Chris, I don't mean to seem like a jerk, but I've gotta meet someone tonight and I don't know anyone in his circle, except you."
Chris considers Al's words. "You're in some sort of a bind?"
"You can say that."
"Star Bright?"
It's Al's turn to look surprised. "That's classified."
"I know. I only caught a glimpse of the project's budget, accidentally and off the record, but it has your name all over it. Looks like you're not exactly doing space station operations research, either. The government doesn't spend 200 million dollars a year on that."
Al is silent for a moment. "You know, sometimes I feel like a chess piece in this game. Move forward a step, and skip back two; just a couple of pawns doing the dirty work. How the heck did we end up here?"
Chris waves him off, holding onto his drink. "It'll get better, trust me. Pretty soon you'll be looking down from the ivory tower. Besides, we can't help it. We're space boys. We've got the discovery gene turned up high." He pauses to scan the floor. "So who is he? Which unfortunate guy is gonna to get an earful of you tonight?"
"Senator McKellan."
Chris gulps his sip of whiskey hastily. "And what makes you think I hang out with the head of the most powerful family in Washington?"
"I saw you talking to him five minutes ago. The guy's got some kind of human wall around him. There are at least ten, fifteen people circling him at all times. Three of them look like thugs for hire. He's impenetrable."
Chris nods. "You're absolutely right. But, I don't know him. I was only introduced myself a couple of minutes ago."
Al's brows furrow in disappointment. "By who?"
"His daughter, Alice." He motions towards a young woman standing about twenty feet away. She's facing away from them, talking excitedly to the woman next to her. "She heads the energy research facility in Prescott. Our two divisions just started working on a project a couple of weeks ago."
Al's face brightens visibly. He sees his way in before Chris can protest.
"No, Al, c'mon, she's like twenty-six years old. And not just a dumb blonde, either. What are you pushing, forty-six now?"
Al's gaze remains on the younger woman. "Have you ever seen a girl I can't get?"
Chris shakes his head. He isn't going to win the argument. When Al has his sights set on something, even something as unlikely as circling the Earth from outer space, he always finds a way to make it happen. The truth is, he's never met a girl that didn't fall for the man in the end. Al himself has a profound appreciation for the female half, but they love being around him even more.
"Just…don't go too far, okay? She's not a bad kid. There's more to her than just the family name."
"Relax, Chris. I'm not gonna harm your girl. I just want a meeting with Daddy, that's all."
Chris sighs. "All right. But you'd better be polished on your science. She tends to catch you off guard."
Al waves him off as he walks towards the waiter closest to where Alice stands. He grabs a glass of champagne from the tray and takes a sip. It tastes terrible to his trained tongue, but the alcohol content is there, and it sparks a small flame inside. He sets the glass back down. Careful, Calavicci. His attention focuses on the voices to his left.
. . .
"I can't believe he actually had the nerve to say that at the meeting yesterday," Alice relays to the other woman. "I mean, we're going to be in the middle of an energy crisis within the next thirty years, and he thinks nuclear is the way to go? I should've asked him what he was planning on doing with all that waste. Maybe we could build a dumpster in his backyard."
The woman laughs at the image. "You know that's what most of them are thinking, though. Nuclear is our best bet right now. Tim was talking about building containers to shoot it into space."
Al sees Alice's jaw drop from the corner of his vision. Perfect timing.
He turns to face the two women, and despite Chris' warning, is briefly caught off guard. Alice fully encapsulates her reputation. She's nothing less than stunning, with perfectly manicured features, framed most noticeably by her dark blue eyes. They remind him of the ocean, on days when you can stand at the bow of a carrier and see miles of water in every direction. The flowing black ball gown she wears hugs her curves with delicate precision and contrasts nicely with her golden hair. It takes him a moment to clear his mind.
"I think," he smiles casually to the two women, "that you're absolutely right. Nuclear power won't fulfill our demands in thirty years. We have to think of something more sustainable."
Alice turns her gaze towards Al. He notices the automatic suspicion in her eyes. This must happen a lot, he thinks, men showing up at her doorstep.
"Hi," he extends his hand. "I'm Al Calavicci."
"Alice McKellen," she replies coolly, shaking his. "Do you have your bets on solar, then?"
Al shakes his head. It's a test. "Not even combined with wind. I think hydrogen is the way of the future."
She tilts her head in curiosity, not expecting many people to know about the newer technology. "By water electrolysis?"
Another test. Al replies with confidence, knowing well how to play the game. "No way. That's a 1.5 to 1 ratio of energy expenditure. The best thing to do is to continue using fossil fuel reserves for now, while we develop a better system, most likely by reaction with a sodium or potassium metal. There's no point in using up resources to convert to a new system if it isn't sustainable." He knows he has her full attention now. "Can you imagine the possibilities? Energy to weight ratio, reduction of pollution, the effects on global warming? They're endless."
Alice considers his comments and smiles for the first time. "How does a naval officer know so much about hydrogen energy?"
"I was introduced to it during my MIT days. We studied it extensively in the astrophysics department. I worked for NASA after that, and they were equally as interested, but also looking at other options."
Her eyes widen with surprise. Alice is obviously someone that prefers smarts to looks or charm. Al, well, he can offer any of the three.
"You were at NASA? Did you work operations or were you in the space program? What was it like?"
Al grins inwardly. "I'd love to tell you. Do you mind if we grab a table?"
. . .
After nearly an hour of conversation touching on subjects ranging from subatomic particles to missions to Mars, Al sees his opportunity approaching from the corner of his eye. Senator McKellen and his entourage arrive at their table.
"Alice, my dear," says the older man. "Your mother has been looking for you. What have you been up to?"
Alice stands from her seat, along with Al. "Dad, I'd like you to meet someone. This is Rear Admiral Al Calavicci."
Al extends his hand. "It's a pleasure, Sir."
The senator's lips remain pressed. His eyes scan every inch of Al's uniform in the time it takes to return the handshake. Al doesn't blame the man. He has a beautiful daughter.
"Al used to fly missions for NASA," Alice says. "He's on the space station project."
"Ah, a fellow scientist," the senator replies. The smile never reaches his eyes. "I hope Alice hasn't been talking your ear off all this time."
"Not at all," says Al. He hesitates, knowing it's the only chance he'll have. "In fact, I was just about to mention a side project that I've been working on. Star Bright. Have you heard of it, Senator?"
McKellen raises his eyebrows, the only indication of surprise. "I'm vaguely familiar with the name. It hasn't come across my desk for review."
Al senses McKellen knows more about the project than he's letting on. The promises are big, if the technology comes through. Better, smaller, faster computers capable of networking and building a collective database, making every unit a smarter version of itself without the need to update hardware. The military applications alone are worth the investment. He hopes the hook is sharp enough to catch McKellen's interest.
"If you're interested, Sir," says Al, "I'd like to fill you in on the details."
McKellen nods. "Why don't you give my office a call. Have my assistant set up a meeting."
"Thank you, Senator. I'll do it tomorrow morning."
McKellen gives Al one last look before turning to his daughter. "Go see your mother, dear. Don't keep her waiting." He nods at Al and is gone, disappearing into the crowd that surrounds him.
. . .
After bidding goodbye to Alice, Al finally allows himself to relax the tension in his shoulders. He's on a path to saving the project, and the more than 200 people who depend on it for their jobs. The fact that the senator is a ruthless businessman and politician doesn't bother him. Back in his circus days, he once sold a terminally ill elephant to a traveling salesman who was trying to sell him a vacuum cleaner. Freddy, the ringmaster, said if he could do that, then he could sell anything. He just has to work on his pitch very, very carefully. He's about to light a celebratory cigar when he feels a familiar hand on his shoulder.
"You old dog! I can't believe it. Do you know how many people have tried and utterly failed to get in with the old man?" Chris asks with a grin. "Thousands. No, probably tens of thousands."
"It's no big deal," says Al with mock nonchalance. He rocks on the balls of his feet. "Nice girl, too."
"Too good for you, huh?" Chris banters back, pointing out the obvious empty space beside him.
"Nope," Al counters with a grin. "Too good for her."
He's reasonably sure he could entice the younger woman to spend the night with him, but he isn't feeling up to much of anything tonight. He usually welcomes the thought, if only to feel a warm body on the other side of the bed, but can't pinpoint what's bothering him exactly. It's something about the city; the every-man-for-himself boxing arena is really starting to wear on him.
Chris rolls his eyes. "Right, well, speaking of too good for you, I have someone I want you to meet. Now, she's the wife of a friend, so don't get any ideas, okay? But she says she was former Navy and stationed in San Diego for a while. Isn't that where you were, back in '68 or something?"
Al looks up from his lighter. "Yeah, I was stationed there twice, actually. The women in California are a whole different breed." He grins, enjoying the back and forth with Chris.
Chris looks at him sternly.
"Okay, okay," he says, motioning with his hands. "No ideas. Just conversation. I promise I'll behave."
Al decides it won't hurt to at least try to be more social. At the rate he's going, he'll need a whole new set of friends to ask for favors from soon.
Chris leads him towards the middle of the ballroom. They walk up behind a stunning figure standing in a blue silk dress with a plunging back. Her dark brown hair is in an elegant updo and she has a hand on her chest, leaning forward with laughter. The people standing next to her are chuckling at the same joke.
Chris taps her on the shoulder. She turns around, still smiling. "Oh hi, Chris," she says. "You just missed the story of the party."