THE HYPERCONDUCTING HYPERCOLLIDER
 

     C T and other physics majors worked hard with the
faculty of the University to have the HHC located in their
state.  It wasn't easy.  The high-energy physics machine was
difficult to achieve funding for at all.  The very nature of
creating such protons as the dual-ring collider accelerates
requires a magnitude of construction not found even in
Stalinist-era hydroelectric projects, American suspension
bridges, or Alpine rail tunnels.  With an 85-kilometer
circumference, the machine's real estate would be worth a
substantial amount in itself.  The interactions necessary to
prove useful results from hypersymmetric theory, however,
required such grandeur.

     The Department of Power was the start of it all.
Public relations efforts, based in part by wordprocessing
blitzes on the part of enthusiastic scientifics like C T,
finally convinced the Secretary, Robert Morton, that high
energy research was a great priority on the list of America's
technical inquiry.  "There can be no way of knowing,"
Professor Urn wrote, "what apparently esoteric searches for
unkowns might yield for future technological standards.
Observe the work of Albert Einstein.  While his Relativity
theory was certainly the basis of much of his fame, the
Photoelectric Effect actually gained him the Nobel Prize, and
this effect is well known to anyone who has watched
television."

     Morton was opposed by essentially the same humanistic
consortium that rallied against space exploration in the
1960's.  "Four billion dollars to bury this diamond ring of
yours and maybe have it blow up?" came the response of the
Common Sense Party frontrunner Alfred Thomson.  "Four billion
dollars could feed God knows how many people, and only God
will know if a group of abstraction-minded lunatics get their
way with this project."

     C T had a view of his own.  "Mr. Thomson, if you believe
in the defense of this great country, then you will surely
approve of the new nuclear submarine this country is likely
to launch this year as part of the 700-ship Navy.  That is
approximately a four billion dollar investment.  Are you
implying that mutually assured destruction takes necessary
precedence over the potential to revolutionize the world's
knowledge of matter and use of energy by the confirmations
and discoveries of the HHC?" This was in a hot letter he
mailed to the Party with a conspicuous absence of reply.
Nonetheless, chief Morton finally issued a statement that
attempted to settle the factions and announce the project at
the same time.

     "Upon review of the favorable results of HHC research
and developmental models, the Department of Power hereby
authorizes the pursuit of the HHC.  Our staff feels that the
proven worth of this project makes it a useful investment of
the funds of this nation, and might I point out that any edge
in technology provided by the HHC would be a credit to
America's scientific prestige.  That makes it just as
valuable an item of America's global posture as our usual
missiles, ships, and submarines.  Certainly, high energy
physics is an integral part of any peaceful or military
application of future possible energy transformations from
matter, and this Administration will not stand in the way of
what the preliminary results promise."

     C T was sitting in his apartment watching the television
statement.  "I wonder why the President isn't saying this,"
he said to himself.  "Might he be afraid of looking too
technically inclined, like his predecessor?  Does he want it
to be named after himself when he leaves office this year?
Does he just want to hide from controversy?  As Commander-in-
Chief, he'd have a rightful reason for making the
announcement.  As usual, it has to be political.  The
election isn't that far off."  He knew he might have had some
effect on the Department's decision, and that was highly
unsettling.  He'd hardly known more than an average sense of
leverage; the single citizen's vote that he received in
things.  He wondered why Thomson hadn't replied.  Was he just
part of the trend?

     The pork-barrel scrabbling of states for the HHC
siting was as intense as that of an auto manufacturer opening
a new production facility.  Different states had different
sales pitches.  One had a dubious distinction of plate
tectonics difficulties, so it touted instead its
concentration of technical colleges and universities.
Finally, however, the University helped make the decision
easier by adding a generous allotment of academic "freebies"
in the form of staff and laboratory facilities to the
abundant supplies of electricity and water available.

     C T felt optimistic that he would receive government
clearance to work on the HHC; for he was clearly superior in
academic performance as he entered his senior year, and he
was right at the site, but he had paranoic doubts related to
his reputation, if it existed, with the Common Sense Party.
Could the current administration actually have some sympathy
with them in terms of electoral vote-garnering?  If that were
the case, then C T might have a hard time because of being
viewed as an agitator and a youthful entry into a project
that more properly belongs to the indoctrinated old guard of
scientists who were less likely to create a fiasco of the
project.  He went to Professor Urn with this concern.

     "C T, I think you're jumping the gun on the HHC.  It'll
be many years, and you can work on many other projects and
eventually get the clearance.  You need the experience,
anyway.  The magnetic fields and particle momenta are like
nothing we've ever known on Earth.  You have to know more
ordinary things on Earth first."

     "My mind seems to have visions of things that might
explain a lot, Professor Urn.  I want to help."

     "You've helped already with your lobbying letters.
Every technical opinion we could get was needed.  Believe me,
you have a wonderful place in science as it is.  They'll have
it built here and then if you're good enough, you'll become
part of it."

     C T still didn't really know how "good" he could be.