The night of the ceremony had gone flawlessly. They had brought each of the winners up on stage and let them wave for the camera. The lady from Oregon had her poem read aloud as she stood there and blushed. They’d gotten lucky with the girl from Brooklyn as she was cute as a bug.

Lydia stood in the back and watched. She sometimes liked the long view. It gave her a better idea of what the folks at home could see. Not bad. Not bad at all.

The after party was also fabulous. The cream of New York’s hippest crowd had all shown up. Someone started calling it BeautFest and the name caught on. There was a general expectation that this should become an annual thing.

Lydia got some strange thought of the Olympics in her head and she couldn’t shake it out. Every time they held one of those things there were stories about the Olympic village and all of the athletes romping together. Apparently hundreds of children were created each time. Maybe BeautFest would have the same kind of dynamic. Just think of it, hundreds of years from now the children would be noticeably better looking and in some small way she was to thank for it.

Of course they’d have to vary the question for next year’s contest. Not too hard to do. They could ask about ‘What is Beauty?’ or ‘What can we do to share more Beauty?’ or something like that. The response would be just as popular. No, she corrected herself. After word got out about how wonderful all of this was it was sure to be twice as popular. Maybe ten times!

As she was driven home that night she kept reflecting on the entire evening. It really had gone just about perfectly. The production was good. The people they had honored were very telegenic. All that and she had thrown a mean party. What more could she ask for?

Well, one thing. She picked up her phone and called her personal assistant. Everything had gone so well that she was going to treat herself tomorrow and come in late. They didn’t need her in early. For just one day they could fend for themselves.

As she went in to her apartment and readied herself for bed, she couldn’t help but congratulate herself again. Every part of this, from the Temple to the artwork to tonight’s silly promotion had been her idea. She had put it all together from scratch. As she got into bed she wondered if this was how the gods felt.

There were incidents of course. One morning they found that someone had spray painted ‘ONLY SKIN DEEP’ across the front doors. They quickly had it removed but not before some pictures were taken. One of them ended up on the cover of the tabloids.

Lydia laughed the entire thing off. It was an obvious comment and she was surprised that it hadn’t happened earlier. When she was interviewed by the media, she simply said that the vandal didn’t really understand what they were trying to do.

She said that they weren’t trying to promote ‘beauty’ as the best of all things. The Temple was there merely as a means to celebrate it. Recognizing one virtue didn’t mean you were condemning all the others, did it?

This led pundits and talking heads from all over the city to speculate on the role that ‘beauty’ should play in everyday life. When the New York media starts talking about something, it’s only a matter of time before it becomes a national conversation.

Lydia couldn’t have been happier. They were talking about her Temple, after all. Controversy had a way of selling tickets. She could picture people from all over the country reading about this and deciding to visit the place and see for themselves. If she could only keep it going somehow, it would mean even more publicity.

Then the idea struck. She could sponsor a contest. She’d have people from all over write in to the Temple, explaining why ‘beauty’ is important! Each entry would be judged and they’d select some winners. They could host an award ceremony right there in theater. It was a perfect idea.

Ideas came in from all over the world. They were almost all around the theme of enriching life. There were a few that took a more cynical approach and suggested that beauty was just a way to keep the powerful in hand. A few men wrote that it was there for their own personal satisfaction.

Lydia had her staff read through the entries and winnow them down so that they could select a winner. She also got together with her marketing people so that they could figure out what regions to take winners from. It was decided that at least one should be from Europe, preferably from France. They should also pick a West Coaster and probably one from a child that lived right in New York.

It was easy enough to find the winners. A man in France suggested that beauty inspired his life and he didn’t know what he’d do without it. A lady from Oregon had written a poem about the beautiful things she saw outside of her window and how it was a gift from God. A little girl from Brooklyn wrote about how beautiful her mother was. All sure fire winners.

Lydia sat back at her desk and reflected on how much good publicity they’d end up with when this was done. All because some wacko decided to try and ruin everyone else’s fun by spray painting something on her Temple. She hoped that somewhere they appreciated the irony. Too bad she’d never know.

There were so many details to figure out. Who should host the ceremony? When should they schedule it? Should this be an annual thing? They’d have to wait until the numbers got back to them, but she liked the idea.

Maybe they could invite some of the young ladies whose pictures they had featured. It shouldn’t be too tough to find a few that had ended up with positive life changes because of it. They could come in and say a few words into a microphone. She liked this idea too.

Well, the first thing they needed to do was to find a spot on the calendar. Once that was done they could arrange the rest. It was important to get everything in the correct slot after all. Then the rest became easy.

There were a few users that really did come to the place on an almost daily basis. As she recognized them, she began to study them relentlessly. Most of them liked the sculpture but what really drew them in were the paintings. There was a small dedicated group that would show up late on weeknights, when the galleries were less crowded. Most of these would set up sketching pads and try and reproduce what they were looking at.

There was one that Lydia had trouble categorizing. This patron was a lady, probably in her 40’s. It looked life had treated her roughly.

Lydia had picked her out early because she stood out. Her jacket was out of date and on the cheap side. She didn’t match up to the standards that the other patrons set as far as fashionable style. Lydia didn’t know her name, but had mentally given her a title so she could better keep track of her. She thought of her as the Bag Lady.

Maybe that was too harsh. Probably it was, but she kept it to herself. There was no way she could be hurt by it, so what was the harm?

The Bag Lady visited almost every day. She’d come in the early evening and look around to judge the crowd. If the people allowed, the first place she’d visit was the contemporary wing. She’d look at the pictures of the models and the amateurs with a curious longing on her face.

Lydia wanted to know her story but couldn’t think of any way to really find out. Well, she could hire a detective or something if it came to that. She decided she didn’t want to know badly enough to do that. The idea of simply walking up and talking never occurred to her.

Why did she come and stare at the young women like that? Was she jealous? The Bag Lady’s looks weren’t anything spectacular. In most places people wouldn’t give her a second glance. Here in the Temple of Beauty, she seemed almost repulsive. It very well could be jealousy.

Another idea occurred to Lydia. This one was far more romantic at least. What if she’d lost a daughter years ago and was hoping to find her picture here! Wouldn’t that be something. Lydia could almost put together the breathless news stories already.

Or maybe it was more frightening story. What if the Bag Lady had once been a model herself and she was somehow hoping that an old picture of her would show up and be immortalized. Lydia looked more closely at her face. Even if she smoothed out the violence that age had brought, that story didn’t fit. It must be something else.

Sometimes Lydia thought this was a silly game to play but it didn’t stop her. She was busy, very busy and if it took something harmless like this to keep her sane then so be it. Besides, didn’t everyone look at strangers and wonder what their story was?

There were others that caught her attention. One was the Poet. He’d show up every Sunday night. Each week he’d pick out a different piece of art and stand in front of it. Then he’d turn and get everyone’s attention and read a poem, most likely of his own writing. The patrons would sometimes applaud and other times look embarrassed.

Lydia had discussions with the rest of the Temple staff, trying to decide what they should do about him. The consensus was to leave him alone. Every place needed color and he helped provide it for them. Besides, Sunday was a slow night and he didn’t bother many people.

There was also the Fox. This one worried Lydia. He was an older man, dressed all in black. He looked at the art as most of the patrons did but there was something about him that spooked her. He seemed to be casing the place, looking for weaknesses. She fully expected to find out that he’d stolen something from them.

She even called together her security team and had someone sent over from her insurance people. They took a long look at him but found nothing they could act on. In the end, they decided that whenever he entered, a special signal would go to the front desk. He’d be watched the entire time he was there. That was really the best they could do unless he gave them cause.

Who came to the Temple? Lydia obsessed over this. She decided early on that she would sell passes to see it. There would be daily passes that could be purchased at the door. Others would be bundled in with regular museum passes that were city wide.

The most important for her were the season passes. These were good for a year and Lydia thought they would represent the repeat visitor. Maybe even the chronic ones. She had rigged a way so that they system would give her a light whenever one of these passes was used to enter.

For years Lydia had wondered who was interested in her products. She would linger in magazine stores to see who bought the her issues. She had promoted survey after survey to see who her readers were. When the internet became a factor she had worked on different ways of tracking her readership. It was something of an obsession for her.

The signals from the season passes were part of the same story. For the first time in her career, she had made something that people could enter in the flesh. She could just sit back and watch them.

The casual visitor didn’t interest her very much. Lydia was glad for their money and their time but it wasn’t difficult to see what made them tick. The Temple had been heavily advertised. It was featured prominently on entertainment news shows. The building was on the cover of several magazines, even some that she didn’t own.

She had campaigned heavily with the tourism boards of New York City to have them promote this gem. This caused them to put it into their commercials right between the Statue of Liberty and Washington Square. It became a regular stop for sight seeing busses.

In the end, she had even bribed the mayor to talk it up. This didn’t sit easily with Lydia. Well, the girl had been fascinated with him for years. It wouldn’t hurt her career either. Even if it became public knowledge, affairs like that only seemed to hurt the politician.

It was the people who visited more often that she was fascinated with. The art was good but was it really twice a month good? Should even the features that changed regularly, like the photos, bring someone back on a regular basis? Of course Lydia hoped they would but her long time obsession with the customer made her doubt it. The chronic visitor might hold the key.

There was an added element for her too. The people that came back again and again, what did they look at? Was it the paintings or the sculpture? Were there certain spots that they liked to stop at or was it different for each person. If Lydia could craft the art to just the right specification, could she get more people to come back time and again?

Or maybe that was the wrong approach. Were there pieces they should be spotlighting? She enjoyed her walk through the sculpture every day. What if they promoted that exact behavior? Could they get more New Yorkers to come in and try it for themselves? Her dream plan was one where a huge number of locals thought of her Temple as a necessary daily stop.

They sold a large amount of season passes. Most of them would only be used a couple of times. Another large number would be passed around to others. Lydia understood this and didn’t really begrudge the buyers. It screwed up her data but she really couldn’t help it.

Lydia

There was a time each morning where the sunlight would hit one of the crystal tips on the roof and then glow through to the building across the street. The refracted light would shimmer ever so slowly. It looked like a spell of some sort had been cast, adding a bit of magic to the city.

Lydia was always happy to be near a window each morning when that happened. It was an unexpected highlight of the day. It made her feel proud. She'd wanted to add some beauty to the city and this was one more small way that she had succeeded.

Of course something small like a little light show was completely overshadowed by the much larger things. The galleries were the best example. She had employed designers and art historians to go out and find just the right items for her. The weren't looking for the most famous or the most technically rendered pieces. Their only instruction

was to find the most beautiful.

They had been wildly successful. Each section of the galleries was nothing short of gorgeous. Lydia loved to watch the patrons move from piece to piece. Their reactions were obvious. They all loved what she had done.

Well, most of them. There was a vocal minority that considered anything beautiful to be too bourgeois. They panned her efforts.

Oh well, it couldn't be helped. There would always be people who were jealous of beauty. It only made sense that so many of these people would get jobs tearing down others creativity. As the saying goes, 'if you can't do, make it hard for those who can'.

At least their criticism wasn’t keeping the crowds away. She had a small office above the main floor. It was disguised so that no one down there could see it for what it was. She wanted to be able to see people wander through. Some part of her got an extra kick out of the fact that she was watching them from a secret spot.

She looked down at the wing that housed paintings. There was a crowd of people, jammed in there looking at each piece. Many of them had guide books or ear plugs for the self guided tour.

Down the other wing was the sculpture. They had found various examples of nude men and women through the ages for this. You could walk down one side of it and see 2500 years of body appreciation. She liked the effect and often started her day with this little treat.

The third wing was for contemporary beauty. They had pictures of models that were rotated out on a weekly basis. Women fought for a chance to be showcased there.

They also had a popular place where patrons could submit their own photos. Each week a new one would be chosen and blown up for display. It was widely believed that this was a sure path to stardom. This competition was also fierce.

Lydia had wanted a small amphitheater where TV shows could be filmed on remote. The designers had tried to steer her away from this, telling her that it would be tacky and take away from the classical feel that she was trying for. Her mind was filled with images of celebrity talk show hosts fighting for the space.

She had to have it. In the end, they compromised by making it into a replica of ancient Greek theater space. It would be live beauty, right? The attention that would bring couldn’t be overestimated. People would come from all over the world to walk in the same footsteps as a super model.

Not that there hadn’t been problems along the way. The first live broadcasts had run into technical trouble. There were always bugs to shake out of any system and most people understood that. Everything was fixed as quickly as it could be.

That wasn’t good enough for this particular host though. She demanded to see Lydia and then tore into her for what she called ‘shoddy workmanship’. Lydia remained calm and waited for the super model to wind down. When she did, Lydia simply requested a copy of the contract. It was brought to her. She scanned through it, found a section on penalties due and then ripped it up.

Then she had words of her own. “This is a temple dedicated to Beauty. Your ugliness has sullied it. I want you and your production crew out of here immediately.” Then she turned to leave.

“You can’t do this to me! Do you know who I am?”

She turned back. “Oh yes. I know who you were and I know who you are now. Furthermore, I know who you’re going to be. Nothing. You’re finished in this town.”

And she was. Lydia made certain that her frame of the argument got out. The host was made to look like the spoiled brat that she was. Others were encouraged to come out and share their stories. Each one made her look worse and worse.

Lydia used her connections within the fashion journals to increase the black eye. Every bad picture of the model, somehow found it’s way to daylight. The police were tipped off about every loud party, especially when she was drunk. Her reputation nosedived.

Six months later the plug was pulled on her talk show. It had all started going badly when she bad mouthed the Temple. Lydia made certain that this story circulated in the proper circles.

In the end, no one believed the part about the cat. James hadn’t really expected that they would. He guessed that it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t change his mind. He’d been thought crazy before and it hadn’t hurt him.

The survey crew had been missed after they were overdue by a couple of hours. No one up top had heard the collapse. Once they found the rock fall, help had been called for.

The rocks were removed carefully but with haste. Extra supports were brought in to keep more of the ceiling from collapsing. They found the other two survey members under the debris, dead.

Ms Gao was still unconscious when they found her. She was badly beat up by the rocks but there was nothing seriously wrong with her. A few days in the hospital and she should be fine.

John’s leg had been badly broken. Fixing it required several pins. He’d always walk with a limp. James visited him in the hospital and promised him that he’d be doing some convalescing in the Canary islands if he wanted.

James went back and searched for the cat but never found a trace. Maybe he had just imagined the entire thing. That’s what people told him but he never quite believed it. Yes, it was strange but it had really happened.

It was because of this that he shelved the entire project. He just couldn’t risk that somewhere in the digging that they wouldn’t harm the poor kitty. That would be the most ungrateful action possible and he wouldn’t chance it. Even thirty million dollars wasn’t worth it.

Instead he created a small shrine in the small cave space that the cat had shown him. Once he had real lighting in there he could see that the walls really did seem to be stripped somehow. The experts dismissed it as a curious trick of the rock formations but he didn’t really believe that.

Small numbers of people came to see the place. His story had leaked out and they wanted to judge for themselves. Some brought stuffed animal cats and left them as a tribute. These were the people that desperately want to believe in something larger than the truth. James had never counted himself amongst them but now he understood.

Every once in a while he’d go down there by himself after the place was closed to the public. He’d turn off the lights and click to the darkness. He’d tell the empty spaces that there were more chin scratches if it wanted them.

Maybe someday he’d be taken up on that offer. He dearly hoped so.

It was a small brrrt noise. Not loud and not particularly aggressive. In fact, if it made any sense he’d think it was a cat.

Of course it didn’t make any sense at all. He was trapped hundreds of feet underground in an old abandoned mine. There were no cats down here. It was only the three of them. And hopefully a crew of rescuers. Mustn’t forget about them.

Brrrt.

There it was again and this time he was sure he didn’t imagine it. He really and truly did hear it. Whatever made the noise was real. And it really did sound like a cat.

Well, it wasn’t…impossible. Maybe some stray cat wandered down here sometime in the past years. It could try and find mice or other vermin. Maybe it could live quite comfortably.

Except that they hadn’t found any sign of mice. And there was no water. Ok, maybe it wasn’t such a great theory. Still, what else could he have heard?

Louder this time, brrrt. This time he gave in and clicked his tongue in that universal cat call. Brrrt. He’d been answered. James took a step forward and clicked again.

And then he noticed something. There was a bubble of light up ahead. Kind of orange in tone. Maybe there was another way out! He started moving forward, trying to be quiet, all the while listening for the cat.

Then he saw it. It was an ordinary orange tabby cat. If you saw it in a window you wouldn’t give it a second glance. There was only one thing different about it. It was glowing.

It looked like there was a light bulb inside of it. That’s what James thought. It was like a cross between a lamp shade and a cat. The mine walls were lit up around it.

James looked at the walls on either side of it. Still smooth and he couldn’t see a way out behind it. Then it spoke again. Brrrt. And it did that little back arch that cats do when they want to be petted.

He was a cat person and he knew how to read the signs. He got into a catcher’s crouch and stuck out a finger to be inspected. The cat moved cautiously forward and stretched out it’s neck so it could safely sniff. Once the protocol was satisfied it came closer and rubbed up against him.

“How are you doing that?”, James couldn’t help but ask. He was finally able to take a closer look. The cat looked perfectly normal from head to shoulder and then it was undoubtedly glowing. For a second he wondered if he hadn’t take a blow to the head after all. He was surely seeing things.

But he must be feeling things, too. The cat was very soft and extremely affectionate. As soon as he started to pet, it began to purr. The light seemed to dim and grow brighter in sync with the purring. He didn’t know how it worked but somehow, it really did.

What now? The cat seemed content to just stand there and be petted. This wasn’t a bad way to spend time but James needed to do something constructive. He could pet this strange cat for hours and they’d still be trapped. Should he keep going forward and look for a way out? Maybe he could carry the cat. At least he didn’t need to worry about the flashlight batteries anymore.

“Will you show me a way out? Will you help me in return for some chin scratching?” That seemed a fair bargain and one of the only things he could really offer right now.

The cat looked up at him and gazed into his eyes. Rrrow?

“Sure.” And James started scratching. The cat began to press more firmly against his hand. The purring got louder and the cat glowed brighter. After a few minutes, the cat looked at him again and started walking away.

James followed. He didn’t have much choice. This seemed like a better option than stumbling back to the cave in. Who knows, maybe the cat really did know of some way out. Wouldn’t that be something?

They started moving down through the mine. This had already moved beyond the realm of implausible and into the realm of hallucination. No one would ever believe that any of this ever happened. He was there walking behind the impossible cat and he didn’t believe it.

They made their way deeper and deeper into the mine. James walked about twenty feet behind the cat. He was afraid that if he was any closer he’d distract it. They sometimes have a maddening habit of trying to walk between your feet and he also wanted to avoid that.

The cat stopped and looked back at him. James stopped also and looked back. Then he raised his chin to look at the walls around him. It looked much like the rest did. He looked back down and the cat was walking towards the side. Then it disappeared.

Not entirely as it was still glowing. There must be an opening there! James quickly moved forward and got down to look. There was a hole, maybe two feet wide. It was tough to tell how deep it was but the cat had already moved through it and seemed to be in a larger chamber.

He got down on his hands and knees and followed after. The opening was a little tight but he found he could still move his arms and legs. James made a quick study of the rest of the small tunnel. The worst possible thing that could happen would be if he got stuck in there somehow. And that would be pretty bad. It seemed big enough. The glow started fading and that settled the issue for him. He quickly crawled through.

It couldn’t have been more than ten or fifteen feet. When his head emerged he noticed he was in a much larger space. The cat was sitting about thirty feet away, near the middle of the room, facing him. James quickly wriggled out and had a look around him.

The ceiling was very high. It was tough to tell how far up it went in the uncertain lighting. The walls were…stripped? He couldn’t tell if they really were or if the cats fur was somehow shading them.

He moved towards his feline friend. The cat let him approach and give out more chin scratching. More purring and again the light brightened. He started to look around but decided that he should keep his attention on the cat.

After a short time, he was given another brrrt. Then his companion moved forward again to the far wall. Yet another small tunnel. This time James didn’t want to chance getting left behind so he followed closely behind. When he emerged they seemed to be back in the mine.

The cat turned and started walking. James followed. At this point, what else could he do?

After a short while he thought he heard voices up ahead. The cat stopped and looked at him. James gave the cat more scratches and listened. Yes, that really did sound like voices. He took a step towards them.

And then the cat moved back the other way. James was torn. Should he follow his little savior or should he go for help? The answer was obvious but painful.

“Thank you, little guy. I’ll look for you again, ok.”

Brrrt. And with that the cat ran off. After a few seconds the light stopped as if a switch had been thrown.

James turned on his flashlight and moved towards the voices. In a moment he was back in the main tunnel. Off to his side there was a crew of men, moving with obvious tension and purpose.

He called to them. It was his rescue party. They were saved.

The dust had mostly settled but it James thought it might be getting harder to see. The flashlight must be wearing down. He should probably turn it off and save some of the battery.
He looked over at John who was resting. Probably do him some good. At least he hoped so. For all he knew he was going into shock and this was the worst possible thing that he could let him do. Should he wake him? No. He didn’t know what to do, so he’d stick with the safer course and let him sleep.
Ms Gao was still out. If he sat really still and listened he could hear her breathing. It was a little labored and had a catch in it. That was probably bad news but again, he didn’t know what the hell he could do about it.
Where were the rescuers? Didn’t they hear what went on? It wasn’t that late in the day. They wouldn’t all just pack up and leave without the team coming back up, would they?. He really didn’t know.
Ok, he’d try turning off the flashlight. Maybe they’d get lucky and there would be some kind of natural light. Couldn’t hurt to try it, right?
There was absolute darkness. It was impressive in a way. This was a dark that was so black it was almost aggressive. If any light dared to show up, it would swallow it and never let it go.
It was kind of spooky.
James had to consciously get a grip on himself. He would sit here in the dark and just remain calm. They might be down there a while and it was important that he not panic. Someone would come and save them. That’s how it works.
Wait, what was that sound? Was there someone on the other side of the wall? He kept very still and strained his hearing to it’s utmost limit. There seemed to be some kind of rhythmic…something. Maybe they were hammering or something.
James shook his head to clear it. The sound was gone. He spent another few minutes just listening for it but there was nothing. Maybe it was just his pulse, echoing in his ears somehow.
At least the distraction had shown him he could stay in the darkness and be calm. That was something. He tried to wave his hand in front of his face to test the old cliché. It was so dark that he really couldn’t see it. Suddenly he wished he hadn’t taken off his watch before coming down here.
A thought occurred to him. He didn’t know what was at the other end of this part of the mine. It looked like it went straight back but maybe it curved around or branched over or something. Why hadn’t he asked John?
Probably because John hadn’t acted like there was another way out. If they could just walk a couple of hundred feet and be out, the man would have said something to him, right? The fact that he hadn’t spoke volumes.
Unless…maybe he didn’t know if they could get out that way. Sure, he’d looked at maps but who knew if something was missed. Or maybe there was another fall that opened up a passage. James would feel like the biggest fool if they died down here when a little exploring would have found an alternate route.
He carefully got up, minding his head. He wanted to stay quiet so as not to disturb the others. Only after he was standing, did that seem foolish to him.
What should he do with the flashlight? He couldn’t keep it on continuously or it would burn out. Stumbling around in the dark didn’t seem a better idea. Maybe if he turned it on every few minutes that would be enough. That didn’t seem like the best way to do it. Didn’t you use more power during the initial start up?
He didn’t know. That was turning into kind of a theme here. He didn’t know what to do if someone was going into shock. He didn’t know how batteries worked. In fact, his emergency skills were sorely lacking. He’d have to work on that once he got out of here. A small interior voice said ‘if you get out of here’.
He decided to shuffle his way in the dark down as far as he could remember. He kept one hand on the wall and the other out in front in case there was a wall or something. A dozen steps in he suddenly became certain that something would bite his hand.
James stopped and decided to give himself a pep talk. He was starting to think silly thoughts. Panicky thoughts. He had to get a hold of himself!
That’s when he heard it.

“Hey boss, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“What’s this secret project you’ve got going on here?”

“Well…it’s a secret.”

“Hell, we’re trapped. Who am I going to tell?”

“That’s a good point.”

“Besides, we need something to do while we wait. I don’t suppose you brought some cards down here with you?”

“No, I can’t say that I have.”

“Ok, then spill it.”

James thought for a moment. He really didn’t have any good reason not to tell him. The secrecy was more of a habit now than anything else.

“All right. You’re right. You deserve to know. I’m just not used to telling people.”

“That’s ok.”

“Well, we’re going to build an enormous aquarium.”

“You mean, something for fish?”

“Yes.”

“Like the one down in Atlanta?”

“Bigger. Or at least deeper. Much deeper.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, there are fish out there that only live down where it’s very dark. We want to make an environment for them here. It will be the only deep sea aquarium in the world.”

“Huh.”

“Believe me, it’ll be amazing.” John didn’t say anything. “You know those big ugly fish with the lighted thing hanging out over their mouths?”

“Yeah, seems I saw one in some movie.”

“We’ll have those.”

“Will you have sharks?”

“Not sure. I doubt it though.”

“Always liked them guys.”

“Yeah, me too. What I really wanted was a whale.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“You mean one of those big suckers?”

“Yep. The full Moby Dick, just swimming around down here for people to see.”

“Now that would be something!”

“Yeah.”

“You said you wanted that. Why aren’t you getting one?”
”Well, there are a number of reasons, I guess. It’s not easy to find young ones. They’re a protected species and that means lots of red tape. There are lots of people in the world that would freak out if we had one in captivity.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

“That’s not the big reason, though. We would have figured out someway to get one if we could. The real reason is that we just can’t make something big enough for them to live in.”

“That’s a shame. How big would it have to be?”

“Oh, a few hundred feet deep, but that wouldn’t be a problem. We’d need a tank roughly five square miles or so. That we just can’t do.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” They were quiet for a minute. “Hey boss, why’d you want a whale?”

“It’s a long story.”

“And…?”

“Good point. It starts with my grandfather.”

“He look like a whale?”

“No, of course not.”

“Sorry, boss, I was just playing.”

“That’s ok. He served in World War II. Fought in a submarine out in the Pacific. He wouldn’t tell me any stories about the actual fighting. Guess that wasn’t something he’d share that with a young boy. There was one story that he told me, though. After I heard it once, I begged him to tell me again and again.

“They were on patrol, listening for Japanese subs. They’d heard something that sounded hostile so they went silent. Shut the engines down and tried to keep still. As they were sitting there underwater, something knocked against the sub.

“This scared them because it was so out of the ordinary. They didn’t know what to make of it. Then they felt the sub shake a little bit. And then again. Still, they had no idea what was going on. Then it stopped.

“The patrol somehow got free from the hostiles and returned to base. When they go there they found something that shed some light on what had happened. There was a set of suckers from a giant squid.”

“Really?”

“Yep. The thing had attacked their sub. Maybe it thought it was a whale or something. Who knows?”

“Wow.”

“Ever since then I’ve been fascinated by the things. Even seen them a few times. Ever been to the Canary islands?”
”No. Can’t say that I have.”

“Some of the best whale watching in the world there.”

“I’ll have to take your word on that.”

“Oh, it is. The beaches aren’t bad either.” James realized the contrast between his memories and the mine they were now stuck in. “Sorry. I probably shouldn’t go on and on about that.”

“No problem. So you wanted a whale to watch.”

“Yes. And I know it sounds silly when you say it. But people would have come from all over the world to see it. It would have been amazing.”

“As you say, boss. I’m sure they’ll come to see the other stuff though, too.”

“I’m sure you’re right. In fact, I know they will. This will be a once in a lifetime opportunity for some of this stuff.”

There was quiet for a minute. “So you’re just going to scoop this stuff out and fill it with water?”

“Well, it’s a little more complicated than that but that’s the basic picture. We’ll have seal the sides to make sure the rocks don’t bleed into the water. And we have to have places for people to come down and look at the fish. You need that, too.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“But the big part will be removing all of this rock. We were just talking about what to do with it. We think we can use it to shore up an upper structure. That should let us add more space above ground.”

“And that’s better?”

“Yes. The deeper we can make this, the better.”

“Well, that all sounds good, boss. Guess I just have one more question.”

“Yeah?”

“When do you think they’ll get around to rescuing us?”

It was dark, darker than the deepest night. For a second James didn’t know where he was. He thought his eyes were open but he couldn’t see anything at all. Was he blind? He could still hear. There was a very obvious and continuing ringing noise. What the hell had happened to him?

He quickly took inventory of the rest of his parts. There were some aches but no sharp pains. He seemed to be thinking clearly.

Where was he?

He coughed. Two thoughts, his chest hurt and wow, did that sound distant. Almost as if someone else had done it. He tried coughing again. Yes, very distant. The pain seemed to be on his right side. More of an ache than anything sharp. He thought that was probably good.

Another sound, someone moaned. He answered, “Hello? Who’s there?”

“Is that you, boss?”

“Yes.” It was the leader of the survey group. What was his name? He hadn’t paid attention enough to know. “Where are we?” Panic started to rise.

A moan and an answer. “Just stay calm.”

“Just stay calm? What the hell happened?”

“Hey! You listen to me! You’ve got to stay calm!” Then his voice dropped down to a normal conversational level. “We’re in the mine. There must’ve been an accident.” The pressure in James throat eased a bit. “Hey, are you ok?”

That seemed to make sense. They were in the mine but it was important that they stay calm. His mind flashed back to the rumbling and the rocks. That’s why it was so dark. “Do we have any lights?”

A groan this time. “I don’t know. Are you ok, boss?”

James took inventory. Was he all right? He might be. Nothing serious so far. “I think so. Let me try and get up.” He started to roll over from his back. No problems so far. His wrists seemed fine. Over on his knees without any pain. Now to stand up and, wham, there was the ceiling. He cried out.

“Boss, are you ok?”

“Yes. I just hit my head on the ceiling. I’ll be fine in a minute.” It occurred to him that he was being very rude. “Say, are you ok?”

A pause. “I don’t know. I’ve got a serious pain in my leg. I can’t quite feel my foot.” A gasp, this time.

“How are the others?”

“They aren’t answering. I don’t know how they are.”

“We need to get some light.”

“Yeah. Look, we had a pack with us. It might be just up the shaft from us.”

“Which way?”

“Ok, let me think. The cave in was between us and the main corridor. It was further back, towards the left side. Feel for it and see if you can find it.”

James thought he knew which side the cave in had been on. He mummy walked across the mine to get to the left side. He got there and was surprised at how smooth the wall was. Keeping on hand on it, he moved forward, kicking his feet out to find the pack. Finally, he kicked something.

“I think I found it. Something like a duffel, right?”

“Yep. That’s it. Ok, go into the side pocket. There should be a flashlight.”

He fumbled around and wanted to ask which side. Then he remembered that it was pitch dark and the other man had no idea. He simply explored the pockets until he found it. A simple twist of the lens and they had light.

The first thing he noticed was that the air had turned gray with dust. It was everywhere. Visibility would be only a few feet at best until it settled. He couldn’t see anyone in the circle of light that he’d created. He swept his other hand through it. Some small cuts and very dirty but not very bad. Down to his legs and everything seemed fine. The protective suits had done the trick.

“Hey, you found it. Come over here.”

“Right away.” James slowly made his way over in case of rubble. The floor had some gravel sized pieces but otherwise looked as flat as it had before. After a dozen steps he came across the other man.

“How do I look?” He seemed fine from the waist up. There was a rather large rock pinning his right leg down. He could see the foot but everything between the ankle and upper thigh was covered.

“Most of you looks fine. I can’t see your leg though. Where does it hurt?”

“Somewhere under this giant rock!” The other man laughed at that. Then he looked around. “Where are the others, man?”

“I don’t know, they haven’t said anything yet.” James quickly moved closer to the rubble. He came across Ms Gao, lying face down and half buried. He yelled out her name and rushed over to her. Her head and neck were clear. He checked for a pulse and it was there. Did it seem slow and weak? Who knew? How fast and strong should it feel like? He checked her mouth and he could feel some breath coming out.

“Hey, I found Ms Gao. She’s breathing and I can feel a pulse. Her eyes are closed though. She must have been knocked out or something.”

“What about the other guys? Can you see them?”

James looked around but he couldn’t see anyone else. “Nothing. Maybe they made it to the other side.”

“Oh, man. Maybe they’re underneath all that stuff. Oh, man.”

James couldn’t think of anything to say. It seemed like he should clear some of the rocks off of Ms Gao. It might make it easier for her to breath or something. Or maybe she was injured somewhere else and they couldn’t tell yet.

Another thought occurred to him. Well, it was embarrassing but he couldn’t avoid. “Say. I, uh. Well, I’ve forgotten your name. Sorry.”

A chuckle. “Don’t sweat it, boss. The name’s John.”

“Good to meet you, John. And you don’t have to call me ‘boss.”

“Reckon I will anyway, if that’s all right with you.”

“Suit yourself.” He kept clearing the rocks away. “Were we in an honest to God, cave in?”

“We sure were. Hell, we’re still in it.”

James chuckled at that. “Yeah, I guess we are.” More clearing. “So now what?”

“Well, we do what we can for Ms Gao. You’re already doing that. Then we wait. They know where we are. They must know what happened. I can’t imagine that this didn’t make a hell of a lot of sound for someone up there. They’ll dig us out.”

“All we have to do is wait?”

“Yes, boss.”

And that’s what they did.

Three buzzers went off as they were each paged. There was only one phone in the trailer so James used it to get more information. Someone had discovered a problem down in one of the shafts.

Ms Gao went to suit up and head down. James decided to go down with her. He loved the feel of the mine. It was an alien landscape yet in it there were constant human reminders. He found the confusion enjoyable. Plus, it was always cool down there and today was kind of a scorcher up top.

They donned some protective clothes. These were basically heavy overalls with gloves and hard hats. This would keep them warm and protect them from chance falling rock. Plus, they could get these nice and messy and not worry about it.

It took a few minutes to get ready and then another few for the elevator to arrive. James always got a kick out of the old thing. He planned to keep it in place somehow. At the very least he’d have it taken out and restored. It would be a shame to lose the old girl.

It was basically a cage and a cable. They had put a light in the top just to make it easier on the people being lowered. They signaled the operator that they were ready with a simple thumbs up. Down they went.

After a short but noisy ride, they were ready to go and look at the problem. Ms Gao had gotten the directions. She took a quick look at the map to be certain of her bearings and started off. James followed after her.

The spot was a couple hundred yards from the elevator shaft. They started by walking down a long alley. They bypassed a couple of dark holes in the wall. Finally, they reached the right one and turned down it. It would have been hard to make a wrong turn. This one had lights and voices coming out of it.

Soon they arrived at the spot. It was a survey team of three, all men. They looked surprised that the big boss was visiting but they took it in stride. Quick introductions were made and then they got down to business.

Their leader took over, “The problem is right here”. He shone his flashlight on the wall and they could see a big jagged crack.

“How serious is it?”, James asked.

“Well, it’s hard to tell. We’re mostly surprised to have found it here at all. If it was just on the surface, it should be patched. It’s a problem if it goes back in too far.”

“Is it dangerous?” James immediately felt a little panicky.

“Probably not. Nine times out of ten these things are nothing. We just try to be cautious is all.”

“Ok, that’s good news. Now what?”

Ms Gao spoke up, “We have to inspect it and see how bad the damage is.”

“Worst case scenario?”

“If it’s dangerously unstable than we’d have to cordon off this part of the shaft and work around it. Not a real problem. Certainly nothing long term.”

“No, I guess not. Especially since we’ll be removing all of the rock anyway.”

This surprised the survey crew. “You’re going to…remove it all?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, it’s a secret but the word will get out sooner or later.” He looked from person to person making certain that he had the attention of the three men. “Gentlemen, we’re going to create the largest pit in the known world.”

“A pit?”

“Yes, we’re going to dig down and scoop at all of the earth here. Make a gigantic hole in the ground.”

They didn’t know quite what to make of that. Finally one of them said, “Do you really need that much earth?”

That got a chuckle. “No, it’s not the dirt that we’re after. Once we remove it all, we’ll be filling it with something else entirely.” He paused and no one spoke. “Something that the great state of Georgia has never seen before.”

They started to ask what that might be but there was an interruption. One of the metal supports let out a squeak. That got everyone’s attention.

James spoke first. “Did everyone hear that?”

They were still for a moment waiting for another sound. When you’re deep underground you develop a very healthy fear of strange sounds. The body is constantly aware that you’re cut off from the rest of the world. It has a way of focusing your attention. It was very quiet.

James again, “Must not have been anything.”

Then the ceiling responded. There was a rumble and a few small rocks fell. Dust seemed to appear all around them. They moved fast and instinctually back towards the elevator. After a few steps the falling rocks became too thick. The rumble became a roar. The light went out.

The roof had caved in.

The big question was what to do with all of the debris. There was lots of digging, literally tons of it and that meant there was lots of refuse to get rid of. Hauling it out would be expensive. Finding a new spot to dump it would be time consuming. Worst of all, it would blow his cover.
He had decided to go with a more mysterious route and keep things a secret. His was the perfect spot for it. This area was remote and hard to get to. Besides, most of the work they were doing was underground. The only worry was some kind of mole in the work crews.
Well, there were ways of dealing with that. He’d asked the construction teams to hire people well before anyone knew there was something special going on. He’d pay them extra if they agreed to some degree of seclusion. This was his way of keeping secrets close to the vest and he hoped it would work out.
The outside pressure on him was enormous. The other six Wonders all had big publicity and the press followed their plans relentlessly. This was nice because James could keep track of what was happening without much trouble. Only his was a secret and that drove some people crazy.
Now the trick was to make certain that the final product was up to the trick. He’d created an enormous amount of interest by simply not telling everyone what he was up to. Now he had to have something that lived up to their wildest expectations. He smiled to himself. He thought he did.
This was something unique in the world. It would give people a chance to see some things that they never had in the past. If that wasn’t a wonder, he didn’t know what was. Now if they could just get the engineering details down.
James turned to a different part of his desk. Not that the logistical problems would be a cinch either. How do you transport something that massive and fragile so far without killing it? Well, they assured him that they could do it so he didn’t worry too much.
This was the trick to all of it, of course. Find some science people who could figure things out and let them do their stuff. If you spent enough money and used the right contacts, you could always find people who could get it done. That was the best trick he’d found in business.
His job was the larger picture. James had the very important ability to see what would make money. It was often curious how others overlooked goldmines while he could easily see them. He smiled to himself. This would be just one more step along that path.
Not that it would be a smooth one. He picked up the report again. They would run into pressure problems unless they could somehow go deeper. His other reports suggested that going deeper was hard to do. There must be a way to do one or the other.
Wait a minute! What if they used the debris to build up walls all around. They could use the troublesome rocks to artificially create depth. That just might work. James picked up his phone and summoned the critical parts of the team, the chief engineer, the architect and the ocean biologist. Everything had to go through them for agreement.
There was some delay while the team of experts was gathered. They all had projects to work on and it took some time to get them all in one spot. The marine biologist, a man named Dr Maki, was off site so they decided to start without him.
James first asked his architect, a woman named Ms Gao for a status report. She had been heading the team that was exploring the existing cave sections. Once they had the full map and an idea of the remaining rock sections, she’d be able to finish the design process.
She hadn’t been able to check everywhere but so far everything looked good. The maps they had been given were certainly accurate. The previous owners had kept good records and (more importantly) kept up with maintenance. Their only problem had been that the cost of production started to outweigh the profits. Once the margin went the wrong way, there was nothing they could do.
The news that everything was in good shape was excellent indeed. They had drawn up preliminary designs in the hopes that they were working from good information. Serious errors or obviously dangerous spots could delay the work or maybe even close down the site. Neither one seemed to be the case.
Next was the engineer, an Italian man named Scotti who had taken more than his fair share of ribbing from Star Trek fans throughout his life. He was in charge of the outside areas for now. The construction equipment was in place and ready to go. One of the things he had been waiting for was some kind of decision on where to take the debris.
This was where James came in. He quickly shared his idea of keeping the extra rock there at the site. Instead of hauling it somewhere, they could use it to shore up the upper structure. With any luck they could add some hundreds of feet. Both Gao and Scotti perked up at this suggestion.
They would have to sit down and check on some figures, but on the surface of it, they both thought the idea might work. In fact, it made some sense. They could use the rock to help keep the metal walls in place. That way they could take more pressure from the tank.
The plan was to go about six hundred feet down. If they could go up another three hundred feet, then they were closer to the full thousand that James had originally wanted. An upper structure would be easier to manipulate, both for tourists and for the actual day to day work that this place would require.
All that they needed was for Dr Maki to arrive and sign off on it.

It was time for the first full scale trial run of one of the scenes. Various parts of it had been tested but it had never been tried with everything in place. The artisans were nervous. The designers were worried. The boys were simply excited.

Roger stayed in the background. He’d gone through this moment plenty of times before. You could only do so much on the blackboard. At some point you had to actually start something up and see if it ran.

He could identify with the various anxieties around him but he didn’t feel any of them. This project only meant one thing to him. If it brought him closer to his boys and taught them some valuable lessons, he’d be happy with it. He wished his dad was here with him.

A small voice in the back of his head said something about the five million dollars he could lose if this didn’t do well. That was a large chunk of money and he didn’t want to throw it away. It wasn’t that big of a deal, though. He’d make money with this here building. People would come from far away to see it. Even the locals would come more than once if they really wanted to see everything. It would be a moneymaker.

The lights glowed brightly. They’d played with them to get everything just right, and he was sure they’d play with them some more. For now, it just meant that they were ready to start.

There was a hum and a whir and he thought he could hear some clicking. The little men started moving towards each other. Some of them glided while others seemed to bob a little bit. He wasn’t sure if they were supposed to or not but he liked the effect.

The two groups met and the scene became confused. He focused on one small battle near the front. Two small figures neared each other and their two weapons met. Then one of them spun and the other seemed to be hit. The wounded one fell and the victor moved forward. It was suddenly hit by another soldier and then it fell.

The new figure moved forward and then seemed to stop. It jerked forward but couldn’t quite go. Roger noticed that the entire field of them were acting like that. A groan went up and the emergency stop button was pressed.

There was a problem and they’d have to stop and reconfigure something. They didn’t have to go quite back to the drawing board. The lead engineer said something about getting caught somewhere. They seemed confident that they could fix it and that would be that.

The main group started to move back to the workshops. Roger was a little surprised when he saw Phil go with them. He guessed it made sense but still…

He put his arm around Alex and made their way through the building. He wanted to talk to him about his latest idea for a diorama. Something about a village being wiped out while UN forces sat back and enjoyed their drinks. Maybe Arthur hadn’t been such a good influence after all.

They got the bugs worked out in the end. Everyone was impressed with the level of detail that they brought to the subject. Critics raved about the experience of watching these complex battles take place. They kept saying that you’d have to watch each scene a dozen times before it all sank in. There was no better line to encourage repeat business. Roger considered selling all day passes so a patron could just keep circling through.

In the course of their work they set several world records and that wasn’t bad news either. This was the most complicated ‘clockwork’ set on the entire planet. If they kept it in good order, it would keep that title for years. Maybe forever.

The city embraced it. The mayor had been here several times. They even put up signs to direct tourists to the right spot. If it wasn’t a World Wonder, it was certainly a local one. Actually, Roger felt like he had a serious shot at winning both parts of the bet. This surprised him.

It wasn’t the only surprise that he had gotten. When the project started he had wanted to get to know his sons a bit more. Early on he’d been worried that his youngest son didn’t really understand just how bad wars can be. His viewpoint was now a bit more mature. That was a good thing.

His older son had been quiet and very good with his hands. Phil’s grades were enough to help him into any college he wanted to go to. His old man’s money wouldn’t hurt either. This project was a chance for him to see some team management up close and personal. He’d gotten all of that and it would serve him well in life.

The surprise? An acceptance letter had come in, one that Roger never expected to see. His boy wouldn’t be going to an ivy league school or even staying in Colorado. Phil would be doing his thing on a larger stage. He’d been accepted into the Army.

“Phil, do you have any more questions?”

“No.”

“You don’t look happy. Sure you don’t have anything else to say?”

“Well… Look, you talked about doing good things even if it’s a bad war. But what about the bad things that happen to innocents? There are an awful lot of innocent people that get caught in our wars. What about them?”

“That’s a good question. I can tell you that we try very hard not to kill the wrong people. Civilian casualties keep going down from war to war.”

“But it still happens.”

“Yes, it does and I won’t try and pretend otherwise.” He thought for a moment. “Say, are you boys ready to go?” They were. The went up to the front and paid and were soon in Arthur’s car.

“Phil, we can sometimes look at casualties and condemn a war because of them. If ten thousand innocent civilians die, maybe we should have just stayed home and not fought. I can understand that, and the math certainly works that way sometimes. But not always.

“Again you have to look at the larger picture. Often you have to ask what will happen if such and such dictator isn’t stopped. What will happen if they get bigger and more powerful? Will even more people die?”

“So it’s just a numbers game?”

“Not always. There are other things than death you have to keep in mind. For instance, the Civil war was fought because of slavery.”

“Not just slaves.”

“No, it’s more complicated than that. I know all about the states rights arguments. But I think it’s impossible to take slavery out of the equation. If the South had decided to just drop that issue, the whole war would have been avoided. Ok?”

“Ok,” Phil conceded.

“The civilian deaths during the Civil war were enormous. The damage done to the normal infrastructure was incredible. Lots of innocent, non-slave owning people were killed. Hell, the North even had to kill some of the slaves themselves. If you could go back in time and tell them that, would you? Would you try and stop the war from happening?”

“No. Well, I don’t think they would have listened to me anyway. Maybe I would have done something else, though.”

“Like what?”

“Maybe I would have gone down to the South and told them how bad it would be for them. Make them see that it wasn’t worth it for them to fight!”

“That’s not a bad idea. Not that they would have listened to you either. They thought they could beat the North quickly and be done with it. They needed to have the stuffing knocked out of them before they’d concede and change their ways. That’s another reason why war is sometimes necessary.”

Arthur could see that Phil was chewing on all of this. Maybe he should ease up a bit. He didn’t want to be rough on the kid. This was a lot of new stuff. These weren’t popular ideas even though Arthur believed they were true.

“I really do like the idea of going back in time and talking to the losing side though. Imagine if you could somehow convince Jefferson Davis not to go to war. Lots of people would have been better off. Or just think about going back and talking Hitler out of invading the rest of Europe and killing lots of Jews. Or even…well, there are lots of examples but you get the point.”

They stopped at a light. The car in front of them had two bumper stickers. One that said “If Women Ran the World There Would Be No War” and another that read “Polite Women Rarely Make History”. Arthur pointed at them and laughed.

“You see what I mean? Lots of people just don’t understand ‘war’ and why it happens. This lady ahead of us probably thinks that it’s all due to excess testosterone or something like that. She isn’t willing to understand the really complex stuff. She just wants to blame men.”

Both of the boys were quiet. One of their mother’s friends had the same bumper sticker. They hadn’t really thought about it before. The light changed and the two cars were separated.

Arthur continued, “I wonder if she realizes that those two stickers contradict each other. On the one hand she wants a woman in charge because she thinks her maternal nature would keep us out of conflict. On the other hand, she wants women to overcome that nature and act more like men do.”

“Are you saying that polite nations don’t make history?”

Arthur chuckled, “Yes, Phil, I believe I am.”

Alex spoke up, “Women aren’t always peaceful anyway. We had two girls running for student council president against each other. It was vicious. I’m surprised no one got poisoned or something.”

“You’ll see some more of that as you get older. Women can be very nice. On average they’re nicer than men are. Least I’ve always thought so. But they can be just as mean. In fact, sometimes it seems like they have depths of evil that men just can’t find.”

“Are you going to talk us out of women, too?”, asked Phil.

“No, of course not. Just trying to give you a little battle readiness is all.” Arthur glanced over at him. “Why, do I see a smile on that face of yours?”

Alex, from the back seat, “Don’t worry about him. He’s a battlefield veteran already!”

“Good for you, soldier. Just make sure you keep your weapons in good order.” They all laughed.

“Let me be clear, your dad isn’t a bad person. He isn’t even trying to put out a bad message. I wish there was less war in the world. But as they say, ‘If wishes were horses, beggars would ride’.”

Phil spoke, “So you think we were right to go into Vietnam?”

“I don’t know. Ask me an easy one. Actually, let me ask a counter question. What would have happened if we didn’t go in?”

Neither boy knew.

“Well, it would have become a communist puppet state. It did anyway, but it would have happened faster. So did it’s neighbors. At the same time we were trying to convince large chunks of the rest of the world that the Soviets weren’t their friends. We needed to stand up and oppose them.

“I’m sure when you read the history books it sounds like the fall of communism was due to happen. In some ways it was because as a system it just doesn’t work. But nobody knew that back then. Or really, what I should say is that the few people that believed that weren’t listened to. The rest of the world thought that they could just support the masses and everything would be easy street. We now know that it isn’t true, but lots of people thought it was.

“What we did is said that free men were willing to go out there and stop the Reds.” Arthur shook his head, “God, I know this sounds crazy now. Kind of like someone talking about stopping the Confederates or the Roundheads. It’s important for you to know that there was an actual battle though and we needed to go out and fight it.

“Maybe Vietnam wasn’t the best place. Maybe we didn’t pick the right spot. We sure as hell didn’t get the support that we needed. If I could go back in time and talk to JFK what would I tell him? Get out of southeast Asia? I…just don’t know.”

They could see that he was in anguish. Neither of them knew that this topic was coming and both of them were a little embarrassed. They each just sat in silence, waiting for some subject that was more comfortable.

“Sorry guys, I don’t mean to be such a downer.”

“That’s ok,” Phil said. “We can tell that this means a lot to you.”

“It does. Look, it’s a big question, an important one. If it wasn’t difficult, it wouldn’t matter.”

“You’d join up again?”

“I would. Now look, I don’t want to gloss over the bad stuff. There probably were better spots for us to go into. We certainly shouldn’t have drafted people to go over and fight it. And we could have handled it better once we were over there. There really are bad wars, I don’t want to pretend that there aren’t.”

“How can you tell a bad one?”

“Another good question. Most times, I don’t think you can until much later.” They sat quiet for a moment. “There is something important that I want you to understand, though. I most definitely believe that there are good wars.”

“Like World War II,” said Alex.

“Yes. Even in World War I, a much murkier situation, we went in with good intentions.”

“That’s the road to hell.”

“Yes, Phil it is. But you have to take some road and I trust someone who tries to take the good one more than I do someone who takes the bad.”

Alex asked, “What if you end up in a bad war?”

“That’s easy. You try your best to do good.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, take the latest controversial one in Iraq. There are passionate arguments on each side about whether it’s a good war or a bad one. The soldiers over there listen to some of that but every day they get up and try to do some good. They change lives around them. In the worst of situations you can still be a force for the positive.”

“ ‘A force for the positive’, I like that.”

“Thanks, I probably heard it somewhere. I don’t think it’s an original thought.”

Phil again, “Do you think that dad’s doing the wrong thing with his Wonder?”

“No, not really. He has something important to say and he’s saying it. That’s as it should be. It’s a little different than how I’d say it but that’s ok, too. Free speech and all that.

“Look, Alex, I think your dad is a little worried because he thinks you only see the macho, gung-ho parts and don’t notice the serious downsides. He might be right about that. When your computer soldiers die, it doesn’t really hurt anything. You can restart the game and they come right back to life. The real world is different.”

“I know that!”

“I’m sure you do. He just wants to make sure that you know it in your heart. That’s all.” Alex still looked miffed. “Look, he’s your dad. He has to look out for you. Sometimes that means being overly cautious. This is important and he doesn’t want to screw it up.”

That seemed to calm him. Arthur looked over at Phil and noticed that he didn’t seem satisfied. He had a disbelieving look.