The Zero Game

“We can call the National Science Foundation. They helped us with some of the high-tech issues when we did hearings on the cloning bill last year.”

“Yeah – good. Perfect. Call ’em now.”

“I will,” I say as I pick up the phone on the octagonal table. “But not until I make one other call first.”

As the phone rings in my ear, I look back out the window for Janos’s car. We’re still alone.

“Legislative Resource Center,” a woman answers.

“Hi, I’m looking for Gary.”

“Which one? We’ve got two Garys.”

Only in Congress.

“I’m not sure.” I try to remember his last name, but even I’m not that good. “The one who keeps track of all the lobbying disclosure forms.”

Viv nods. She’s been waiting for this. If we plan on figuring out what’s going on with Wendell, we should at least find out who was lobbying for them. When I spoke to Gary last week, he said to check back in a few days. I’m not sure if we even have a few hours.

“Gary Naftalis,” a man’s voice answers.

“Hey, Gary, this is Harris from Senator Stevens’s office. You said to give you a call about the lobbying forms for-”

“Wendell Mining,” he interrupts. “I remember. You were the one in the big rush. Let me take a look.”

He puts me on hold, and my eyes float over to the saltwater aquarium. There are a few tiny black fish and one big purple and orange one.

“I’ll give you one guess which ones we are,” Viv says.

Before I can reply, the door to the conference room flies open. Viv and I spin toward the sound. I almost swallow my tongue.

“Sorry… didn’t mean to scare you,” a man wearing a white shirt and a pilot’s hat says. “Just wanted to let you know we’re ready whenever you are.”

I once again start to breathe. Just our pilot.

“We’ll only be a sec,” Viv says.

“Take your time,” the pilot replies.

It’s a nice gesture, but time’s the one thing we’re running out of. I again glance out the window. We’ve already been here too long. But just as I’m about to hang up, I hear a familiar monotone voice. “Today’s your birthday,” Gary says through the receiver.

“You found it?”

Viv stops and turns my way.

“Right here,” Gary says. “Must’ve just got scanned in.”

“What’s it say?”

“Wendell Mining Corporation…”

“What’s the name of the lobbyist?” I interrupt.

“I’m checking,” he offers. “Okay… according to the records we have here, starting in February of this past year, Wendell Mining has been working with a firm called Pasternak and Associates.”

“Excuse me?”

“And based on what it says here, the lobbyist on record – man, his name’s everywhere these days…” My stomach burns as the words burn through the telephone. “Ever hear of a guy named Barry Holcomb?”

57

“EVERYBODY SMILE,” Congressman Cordell said as he stretched his own practiced grin into place and put his arms around the eighth-graders who flanked him on both sides of his desk. It took Cordell the first six months of his career to get the perfect smile down, and anyone who said it wasn’t an art form clearly knew nothing about making an impression when cameras were clicking. Smile too wide and you’re a goon; too thin and you’re cocky. Sure, going no-teeth was perfect for policy discussions and sophisticated amusement, but if that’s all you had, you’d never win the carpool moms. For that, you needed to show enamel. In the end, it was always a range: more enthusiastic than a smirk, but if you flashed all the Chiclets, you went too far. As his first chief of staff once told him, no President was ever a toothy grinner.

“On three, say, ‘President Cordell’…” the Congressman joked.

“President Cordell…” all thirty-five eighth-graders laughed. As the flashbulb popped, every student in the room raised his chest just a tiny bit. But no one raised his higher than Cordell himself. Another perfect grin.

“Thank you so much for doing this – it means more than you know,” Ms. Spicer said, shaking the Congressman’s hand with both of her own. Like any other eighth-grade social studies teacher in America, she knew this was the highlight of her entire school year – a private meeting with a Congressman. What better way to make the government come alive?

“They got a place we can get T-shirts?” one of the students called out as they made their way to the door.

“You’re leaving so soon?” Cordell asked. “You should stay longer…”

“We don’t want to be a bother,” Ms. Spicer said.

“A bother? Who do you think I’m working for?” Cordell teased. Turning to Dinah, who was just making her way into the office, he asked, “Can we push our meeting back?”

Dinah shook her head, knowing full well that Cordell didn’t mean it. Or at least, she didn’t think he meant it. “Sorry, Congressman…” she began. “We have to-”

“You’ve already been incredible,” Ms. Spicer interrupted. “Thank you again. For everything. The kids… It’s just been amazing,” she added, locked on Cordell.