Harold To-kamra, chief editor of Po Publications, was not about to be bullied just because three generals, an international team of respected scientists, and a well-known professor with a stack of endorsements, filled his office.
He looked slowly through the manuscript. “I have been asked before to NOT publish things on national security grounds, but I have never been asked TO publish. When the government wants something published, they usually just do it themselves.” He glanced up at his visitors through tri-focal glasses.
“The research methods we use are highly classified,” General Bo-seklin explained, “so we prefer to endorse parallel work by civilians, whenever possible. We have been endorsing academic publication of appropriate articles for years, but as you can see, this book is for general readers. It needs a publisher who knows how to get it to the people.”
The editor looked at the manuscript a bit more. “Well, I can certainly get it into print, as long as the authors are available to validate any editorial changes . . .”
All four of them nodded.
“. . . but this just isn’t something that’s going to generate much interest.
It’s still basically academic. It’s about reality. That doesn’t sell well.”
“But does not the publication of a book come with a publicity budget?”
William Ko-poran asked.
“Yes, but only in proportion to the interest we think the title will generate.
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For something like this, I can’t imagine the publishing board putting more than . . . five or ten thousand into publicity — just enough to bring it to the attention of libraries and a few specialized bookstores.”
A tense moment of silence lingered.
“I think I can shed some light on that issue,” a female voice came from the back of the room.
Generals Bo-seklin and Ba-kerga scooted their chairs farther apart so she could be seen.
“And you are?” the chief editor asked.
“My name and most of my credentials are classified,” the slender young lady in business clothes said, “but among other things, I represent a consortium of private donors who have earmarked a substantial fund for publicity efforts for this book.”
The generals and Doctor Bo-leden knew Heather well enough to not be surprised. The authors had seen the young lady at the team meeting and in the dining room, and had thought nothing of it. Now, they were open-mouthed but speechless.
“How substantial?” the chief editor asked, adjusting his glasses.
“I have not looked at the fund balance today, but it’s something north of seven figures,” she replied, “and climbing.”
Harold To-kamra’s eyes snapped open wide. “With a publicity fund like that, everyone on the planet will know about this book!”
“Something along those lines is our goal,” she said calmly.
“And what does this . . . consortium . . . want in exchange?”
“Only two things. First, that you work with the authors to get the vocabulary to the twelve-year reading level . . .”
“That’s ridiculous!” Doctor Bo-tora burst out. “We will NOT allow our book to be put into baby-talk!”
The chief editor looked at the irate author, and could see that the other three had similar feelings. “You have not written for general readers before, have you?”
“No,” Doctor Bo-tora nearly spat out.
“The twelve-year level IS the general public’s reading level. Let me give you an example.” He opened the manuscript randomly. “Logging
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operations, if not done carefully, often exacerbate water pollution. All we need to do is change exacerbate to worsen. See how easy?”
The four authors tried to collect themselves.
“It will be a challenge for us, but I believe we can do it,” Donella Po-tirel said, looking at her colleagues.
“And your other condition, young lady?” the chief editor asked, looking toward the back of the room again.
“That the book be in bookstores by the end of this year.”
The chief editor whistled. “I’ll have to shuffle some priorities, re-assign some people. When, and how much, can we expect up-front?”
“When all contracts are signed, one hundred thousand, with similar amounts periodically after I see what you’re doing with that much.”
“In that case,” Harold To-kamra said, “I believe we are going to publish a book!”
Back in the car, General Bo-seklin looked at Heather. “Consortium?”
“Sounded impressive, didn’t it?”
“I can’t deny that. I know you’ve done some very profitable investing, but isn’t that amount going to drain you?”
“Yes, but as long as I can grab a sandwich in the kitchen, crash on a bunk in the bomb shelter . . . and maybe save the world . . . what more could a girl want?”
General Ko-fenral chuckled. “As long as there’s food in that kitchen, and a bunk in that bomb shelter, you’ll be welcome to them!”
General Ba-kerga smiled but didn’t say anything.
“The facility, direct?” Rachael inquired from the driver’s seat.
“After a brief stop at my bank,” Heather asserted.
General Bo-seklin verified with a nod.