Aslan Norval

10.

Aslan’s name and her canal project ran in capital letters across the front pages of the evening and morning papers. Several articles reported on Aslan’s project. Up until now only a great catastrophe with hundreds of victims would have managed to get as much attention from the media.

For six consecutive days, one could not read anything about a rebellion in the Ukraine, nothing about the impending overthrow of a man named Khrushchev, about a conspiracy against the Egyptian prime minister, nor about Mexican student unrest influenced by Russian spies. One could not find anything about a supposed sighting of a Russian submarine fifty miles off the coast of New York, nothing about workers’ unrest in Poland, Latvia, Hungary, and East Germany, artificially spurred on by fascist traitors, nothing about the unavoidable collapse of China, nor about the American president’s cold, which shook the New York Stock Exchange.

Instead, the newspapers had something incredibly important to report, something tangible, something utterly useful, even if it seemed quixotic at first, which excited the readers even more. For a week, the newspaper directors forgot to sling mud at other countries and their governments for daring to have different opinions and for cultivating their land as they saw fit.

Letters addressed to the very honorable editor flooded the newspaper agencies. Half of the letter writers declared Aslan’s idea crazy and demanded that the authorities commit her to a psychiatric institution immediately to prevent further spawning of her delusions. The other half praised Aslan as the twentieth century’s most notable genius, whose plan had to be implemented immediately, preferably tomorrow, even if it were to push the United States into bankruptcy. All week, the newspapers discussed the pros and cons as well as the feasibility of the project. The initial result was an increasing demand for APTC shares. While the canal project captured the public’s imagination, the daily reports prophesying the political and economic collapse of the U.S.S.R. stopped, as if they had died of old age.

During the next board meeting, Aslan proposed to increase capital by another billion dollars and to issue a second set of shares on the market. She was sure, she assured the board, that the shares would sell like hotcakes.

“Isn’t that a little risky, Miss Norval?” asked the banker, Mr. Brady.

“Not at all, Mr. Brady. If General Motors could successfully expand their program by a billion dollars six years ago, then we can do the same thing.”

“Don’t forget General Motors has immense assets, Miss Norval.”

“I am not forgetting that. However, you must admit that not all assets are material. An invention is also a real asset. We can realize our idea with energy and unshakable determination.”

The board approved Aslan’s proposal unanimously. The newspapers took note of the board’s decision, of course, and as Aslan had expected, the canal project again received much public attention.

Up to that point, no expert had determined with certainty whether building such a canal was even feasible. What’s more, it was unclear how the company was to obtain the many billions of dollars necessary for the construction of such a long and wide canal. Certain circles, motivated by envy and self-interest, tried to stop the project. They saw the lack of satisfactory answers to these questions as an opportunity to launch a smear campaign. In tactful but no uncertain terms, they accused the APTC of fraud against their shareholders.

But to their surprise, no one sold their shares. It is safe to say that this was proof of the shareholders’ belief in the feasibility of the project. Therefore, APTC’s enemies had to employ rougher methods for bringing down the company. An unscrupulous pack of lobbyists served their purposes. Usually they loitered in the antechambers, cafeterias, hallways, barbershops, and restrooms of the Senate and House, to whisper lies and rumors into the ears of representatives and senators. They managed to get the Senate to deal with the matter of the APTC, as the company had to request permission to issue a new series of shares in the amount of one billion dollars.

The Senate decided to constitute a senatorial subcommittee tasked with investigating the APTC. They reasoned that the public had an inalienable right to know the truth about the company’s intentions. The committee was to find out whether the company planned to commit fraud, including speculation in shares. In addition, they had to determine whether the company intended to break antitrust laws by attempting to establish a transport monopoly. Finally, it was imperative to ascertain whether this private project could endanger the country’s complicated defense system.

Aslan’s lawyers explained to her that it would be very difficult to rescue the company without fundamentally changing or abandoning the project. Since the company did not have the least bit of proof of its feasibility, Aslan especially would come under fire in front of the Senate committee. It would be easier than Aslan believed for the committee to decide that she was purposely trying to hide the company’s true intentions. In that case, they were setting themselves up for the Department of Justice to intervene. An indictment of fraud seemed inevitable.

It looked pretty bad. Aslan invited Beckford to a private discussion.

“Mr. Beckford,” she said to him without any introduction, “if things go badly in the committee, I will land in prison for several years. And you will, too, of course.”

“Me?” Mr. Beckford asked, surprised. “Me? What in the world do I have to do with this goddamned mess? I don’t own a single share.”

“You are registered as the general manager of the company. ‘Cling together, swing together,’ as horse thieves say.”

“No way, ma’am. No way, not with me. Tomorrow I’ll go immediately to the closest recruitment office and I’ll reenlist in the Marine Corps. I am always welcome there. They always need good sergeants. Then I’m rid of all these worries. In any case, I’m fed up with this life here, just so you know. I’m sick and tired of it. I’ll do my own thing. Good night!”

“So, in short, you want to let me face the music by myself? And I had such high hopes for you.”

“You know as well as I do that no one asked me, ma’am.”

“It’s not as easy as you think to get away. The Marine Corps doesn’t need you, they could get anyone to scream at new recruits. For now, I still need you here and I need you desperately. Before we get sent to prison for several years, there’ll be plenty of time for you to disappear. And once you’re back with your roughnecks, no district attorney can get you out of there, certainly not for this kind of affair.”

“All right then, ma’am, what do you want? What am I supposed to do for you? At some point, I guess I have to show some gratitude for all the favors I never asked for.”

“Now that sounds quite a bit better.” Aslan laughed.

It was easy for Aslan to smuggle certain nuggets of information to the newspapers. Now, the papers implied that the company’s directors and board members, who had allegedly taken money from honest, hardworking, trusting citizens, were planning to leave the country under the pretext of going on vacation. All their passports were ready and stamped with visas for countries that would not extradite. Another report claimed that the Senate committee had arrest warrants for fraud on their desks, ready to be served. Then news appeared that the Senate committee would be ordering a hearing in the next few days, which was not true as of yet. Allegedly, the hearing was due to a series of suspicious circumstances suggesting fraudulent activity.

At the perfect moment, just as Aslan had planned, another story hit the papers like a bomb. Facing pressure on all sides, the chair of the Senate committee announced that the accused had already been asked to appear and that public proceedings were to take place on the second Thursday of the following month. He added that since the hearing was of great significance for the entire American people, it would be aired on national television, to prove that the honorable Senate committee would not be influenced by Big Business. The average Joe could judge for himself.

Aslan could not have secured better national publicity for her plan. In the most diplomatic fashion, she had managed to interest the country’s major television networks. No one in the entire country would miss this sensational drama. The television broadcast now promised to eclipse the historic hearing of a group of Hollywood screenwriters and directors accused of being Communists, who, with their films, had allegedly imposed their anti-American ideas in a typically Bolshevik manner on a naive American audience.

As accusations against the company’s board accumulated, one would have thought its shareholders would finally be tempted to cut their losses and sell their shares. If the Senate committee were to prove attempted fraud, the shares would just barely be worth the profit from a final liquidation.

Strangely, not a single share was offered for sale. There were two explanations: either all shares were in the possession of one entity, or the shareholders were firmly convinced that the project would come to fruition. With absolute certainty, they expected amazingly high dividends, maybe not in the next few weeks but surely in the next twelve or fifteen years. Delayed gratification was nothing new for the founders of American companies. The longer you waited and the larger the company, the higher the dividends would be.