The Silver Fox smiled at his public relations colleague, who had shifted uneasily and was fidgeting with his pipe. "Relax, Jake. I'm not taking off at the press. Just trying to fix a perspective."

Jake Earlharn said dryly, "I'm glad you told me. For a minute I was wondering."

"Aren't you losing sight of some facts, Mr. Braithwaite?" AP persisted.

"There are reputable people who still believe in steam power. Some big outfits other than auto companies are working on it. The California government is putting money on the line to get a fleet of steam cars on the road. And there are legislative proposals out there to ban internal combustion engines five years from now."

The Product Development vice-president shook his head decisively, his silver mane bobbing. "In my book, the only reputable guy who believed in a steam car was Bill Lear. Then he gave up publicly, calling the idea 'utterly ridiculous."'

"But Lear's since changed his mind," AP said.

"Sure, sure. And carries around a hatbox, saying his new steam engine is inside. Well, we know what's inside; it's the engine's innermost core, which is like taking a spark plug and saying 'there's an engine from our present cars.' What's seldom mentioned, by Mr. Lear and others, is that to be added are combusters, boiler, condenser, recuperation fans . . . a long list of heavy, expensive, bulky hardware, with dubious efficiency."

Jake Earlharn prompted, "The California government's steam cars . . ."

The Silver Fox nodded. "Okay, California. Sure the state's spending lots of money; what government doesn't? If you and half a million others were willing to pay a thousand dollars more for your cars, maybe -just maybe - we could build a steam engine, with all its problems and disadvantages. But most of our customers - and our competitors' customers, which we have to think about too - don't have that kind of moss to sling around."

"You're still ducking electric cars," The Wall Street Journal pointed out.

Braithwaite nodded to Adam. "You take that one."

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"There are electric cars right now," Adam told the reporters. "You've seen golf carts, and it's conceivable that a two-passenger vehicle can be developed soon for shopping or similar use within a small local area. At the moment, though, it would be expensive and not much more than a curiosity. We've also built, ourselves, experimental trucks and cars which are electric powered. The trouble is, as soon as we give them any useful range we have to fill most of the inside space with heavy batteries, which doesn't make a lot of sense."

"The small, lightweight battery - zinc-air or fuel cells," AP questioned.

"When is it coming?"

"You forgot sodium sulphur," Adam said. "That's another that's been talked up. Unfortunately, there's little more than talk so far."

Elroy Braithwaite put in, "Eventually we believe there will be a breakthrough in batteries, with a lot of energy stored in small packages. What's more, there's a big potential use for electric vehicles in downtown traffic. But based on everything we know, we can't see it happening until the 1980s."

"And if you're thinking about air pollution in conjunction with electric cars," Adam added, "there's one factor which a lot of people overlook.

Whatever kind of batteries you had, they'd need recharging. So with hundreds of thousands of cars plugged into power sources, there'd be a requirement for many more generating stations, each spewing out its own air pollution. Since electric power plants are usually built in the suburbs, what could happen is that you'd end up taking the smog from the cities and transferring it out there."

"Isn't all that still a pretty weak alibi?" The cool Newsweek brunette uncrossed her legs, then twitched her skirt downward, to no effect, as she undoubtedly knew; it continued to ride high on shapely thighs. One by one, the men dropped their eves to where the thighs and skirt joined.

She elaborated, "I mean an alibi for not having, a crash program to make a good, cheap engine - steam or electric, or both. That's how we got to the moon, isn't it?" She added pertly, "If you'll remember, that was my first question."

"I remember," Elroy Braithwaite said. Unlike the other men, he did not remove his gaze from the junction of skirt and thighs, but held it there deliberately. There were several seconds of silence in which most women would have fidgeted or been intimidated. The brunette, self-assured, entirely in control, made clear that she was not. Still not looking up, the Silver Fox said slowly, "What was the question again, Monica?"

"I think you know." Only then did Braithwaite, outmaneuvered, lift his head.

He sighed. "Oh, yes - the moon. You know, there are days I wish we'd never got there. It's produced a new cliche. Nowadays, the moment there's any kind of engineering hangup, anywhere, you can count on somebody saying: We got to the moon, didn't we? Why can't we solve this?"

"If she hadn't asked," The Wall Street journal said, "I would. So why can't we?"

"I'll tell you," the vice-president snapped. "Quite apart from the space gang having unlimited public money - which we haven't - they had an objective: Get to the moon. You people are asking us, on the vague basis of things you've read or heard, to give development of a steam or electric engine for cars that kind of all-or-nothing, billions-in-the-kitty priority.

Well, it so happens that some of the best engineering brains in this business think it isn't a practical objective, or even a worthwhile one.

We have better ideas and other objectives."

Braithwaite passed a hand over his silver mane, then nodded to Adam. He gave the impression of having had enough.

"What we believe," Adam said, "is that clean air - at least air not polluted by motor vehicles can be achieved best, fastest, and most cheaply through refinements of the present gasoline internal combustion engine, along with more improvements in emission control and fuels. That includes the Wankel engine which is also an internal combustion type."

He had deliberately kept his voice low key. Now he added, "Maybe that's not as spectacular as the idea of steam or electric power but there's a lot of sound science behind it."

Bob Irvin of the Detroit News spoke for the first time. "Quite apart from electric and steam engines, you'd admit, wouldn't you, that before Nader, Emerson Vale, and their kind, the industry wasn't nearly as concerned as it is now about controlling air pollution?"

The question was asked with apparent casualness, Irvin looking blandly through his glasses, but Adam knew it was loaded with explosive. He hesitated only momentarily, then answered, "Yes, I would."

The three other reporters looked at him, surprised.

"As I understand it," Irvin said, still with the same casual manner, "we're here because of Emerson Vale, or in other words, because of an auto critic. Right?"

Jake Earlham intervened from his window seat. "We're here because your editors - and in your case, Bob, you personally - asked if we would respond to some questions today, and we agreed to. It was our understanding that some of the questions would relate to statements which Mr. Vale had made, but we did not schedule a press conference specifically because of Vale."

Bob Irvin grinned. "A bit hair-splitty, aren't you Jake?"

The Vice-President Public Relations shrugged. I guess."

From Jake Earlham's doubtful expression now and earlier, Adam suspected he was wondering if the informal press meeting had been such a good idea.

"In that case," Irvin said, "I guess this question wouldn't be out of order, Adam." The columnist seemed to ruminate, shambling verbally as he spoke, but those who knew him were aware how deceptive this appearance was. "In your opinion have the auto critics - let's take Nader and safety - fulfilled a useful function?"

The question was simple, but framed so it could not be ducked, Adam felt like protesting to Irvin: Why pick me? Then he remembered Elroy Braithwaite's instructions earlier: "We'll call things the way we see them."

Adam said quietly, "Yes, they have fulfilled a function. In terms of safety, Nader booted this industry, screaming, into the second half of the twentieth century."

All four reporters wrote that down.

While they did, Adam's thoughts ranged swiftly over what he had said and what came next. Within the auto industry, he was well aware, plenty of others would agree with him. A strong contingent of younger executives and a surprising sprinkling at topmost echelons conceded that basically - despite excesses and inaccuracies - the arguments of Vale and Nader over the past few years made sense. The industry had relegated safety to a minor role in car design, it had focused attention on sales to the exclusion of most else, it had resisted change until forced to change through government regulation or the threat of it. It seemed, looking back, as if auto makers had become drunken on their own immensity and power, and had behaved like Goliaths, until in the end they were humbled by a David - Ralph Nader and, later, Emerson Vale.

The David-Goliath equation, Adam thought, was apt. Nader particularly - alone, unaided, and with remarkable moral courage - took on the entire U.S. auto industry with its unlimited resources and strong Washington lobby, and, where others had failed, succeeded in having safety standards raised and new consumer-oriented legislation passed into law.

The fact that Nader was a polemicist who, like all polemicists, took rigid poses, was often excessive, ruthless, and sometimes inaccurate, did not lessen his achievement. Only a bigot would deny that he had performed a valuable public service. Equally to the point: to achieve such a service, against such odds, a Nader-type was necessary.




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