Lethal Trajectories - Michael Conley [5]
She often thought of her Life Challenges group as a good bellwether for the emotional and spiritual health of the community. The ebb and flow of meeting attendance levels correlated strongly, she observed, with local economic conditions. Greater stress produced higher attendance levels, and attendance dropped when times were good. The attendance trajectory line had moved steadily upward for some time, and that was not a good macroindicator for Mankato, though it was helpful for the people attending. She was troubled and unsure of what to do as she put down her newspaper and left for work.
3
Myrtle Beach, South
13 September 2017
Wellington Crane left his sprawling mansion for the short walk to his broadcast studio. He walked past his six-car garage and smiled contentedly at his mint 1998 Rolls-Royce, which sat in the driveway, waiting to be polished. He loved the beautiful self-contained complex he had created and named Wellington’s World, after his juggernaut show. It was a fitting testament to his greatness and contrasted sharply with the lifestyles of the shiftless Americans he so contemptuously referred to on his radio show. He reflected on his unique talents as he entered the front door of his high-tech studio.
“Good morning, Mr. Crane,” said his youthful receptionist in a cheerful voice.
“Get me a cup of coffee, Amanda,” he growled, “and make sure it isn’t as weak as that slop you made yesterday.” He then proceeded into his “war room” to prep for today’s radio show.
Crane was a heavy user of the Shared News Services. He detested the more conventional news reporting services—though he used them as necessary—but he regularly checked the SNS bulletins before going on air with his syndicated radio show. After all, he had a daily audience of over twenty million Americans who deserved the best. Shortly before his three o’clock afternoon airtime, a breaking story caught his eye: “Massive fires reported near a giant Chinese oil platform located in the Chunxiao area of the East China Sea. No details yet available, but fires are reported by several aircraft across large areas.”
Hmm, thought Wellington, this might be worth mentioning when I do my bit on China and how they are eating our lunch under the incompetent leadership of President Burkmeister and his commie sidekick, Clayton McCarty. If the flash bulletin turned out to be important—something he would know more about as his show progressed—he could once again claim a scoop over his bumbling cable and news competitors. He was always several steps ahead of them, and he had even bigger plans to trounce them in the near future.
Although it hardly mattered in radio, Wellington was as fastidious about his appearance as he was in prepping for his show. As he looked in the mirror before going on the air, he smiled and winked at himself. He liked what he saw and only wished his radio listeners could see as well as hear him. They would appreciate him even more—if that was possible—if they could observe his body language and handsome features. For a man of fifty-one, he could easily pass for someone in his early forties—maybe even late thirties—and he was proud of everything about himself. The mirror doesn’t lie.
Thus, his listeners would be pleased to know that he’d agreed to make a rare television appearance this coming Sunday as a panelist on Nelson Fitzwater’s Financial Issues and Answers. He was delighted to learn that Clayton McCarty, a man he despised, would be the cannon fodder for panelists. It would be a genuine treat for his adoring fans to hear and see him launch an audiovisual nuclear attack on the hapless McCarty—the VP half of the team he took delight in referring to as the BM movement.
After one last look in the mirror, he entered the broadcast studio, adjusted the microphone, and said in his deep, authoritative baritone voice, “Good afternoon, my friends and fans, and welcome to Wellington