Page 1 of Collin, Episodes 10-12 (The Residency Boys #4)

Collin poked at his food. “You have a point.” Frankly, he was out of arguments that didn’t start with because society will judge you.

“Thank you.” Ash slouched over his bowl. “I know you think I’m weird.”

“I’m the one who rented a pantry and then volunteered to be homeless.” Collin finished his meal and started to clean up. “You do go outside though, right? See the sun?”

Ash pointed to the ceiling. “I mean, I know better than to not see the sun. There was this nurse when I was in jail who yelled at me about vitamin D, so I know if I don’t go out there enough I’ll get weird and sad.”

Collin laughed nervously. “Yeah, it’s a thing. I have to take vitamin D in the winter because it doesn’t matter if I get out there enough or not; living this far north in the winter gets to me.”

Ash shook his head and patted Collin on the shoulder. “Aye, man, you got the SAD.”

Laughter burst out of Collin’s nose. “Where’d that accent come from?”

Ash smirked behind his red bangs like the imp he was. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Bet you’re too young to remember.”

Collin shook his spoon at Ash’s face. “I’m almost old enough to be your father.”

Ash giggled. “Only if you had me at like seven years old. Also, ew…not cool.”

Collin left Ash to start his day, including showering and washing his clothes in the basement. Mr. Reevesworth was off the phone but still replying to emails when Collin slid quietly into the office and sat on the edge of the desk. He smiled and finished typing, then closed his laptop.

“Since we have the time, I want to show you the research room for the train project, the one getting us in all the trouble with Bernstein and co.”

Collin popped onto his feet. That sounded promising.

Mr. Reevesworth led him down into the hallways and back toward one of the offices Collin and Ash had checked for equipment.

Mr. Reevesworth unlocked the door with a key and let them inside.

He flipped on an overhead projector, which lit up the large center table with a map beamed down onto it.

At one end, Collin recognized the city they were in and, at the other end, he saw what appeared to be another city.

He leaned in to read the name. It was the capital of one of the states just to the south.

Two train lines ran between them, following similar but not completely aligned paths.

“There’s only one train line. I know because I researched that.”

Mr. Reevesworth smiled, pleasure in his face.

“I know. You talked about it in your work. Our city doesn’t really have room in the central downtown for more trains coming and going, but there’s plenty of room for building up to the south and communities that need it.

That’s why we bought this land.” He picked up a slender pointing stick and tapped an area of the map marked in blue to match the rail line that Collin knew didn’t exist yet.

“Our sister city to the south, though, does have space to handle more in their downtown, and the additional traffic and commerce would be beneficial. Not that everyone recognizes it, but we’re putting together support.

We’d not only be linking two major sports stadiums with only about two hours of rail time between them, but we’d be linking two major walkable metropolitan areas. ”

Collin’s chest lit up. He bounced on the balls of his feet. “That means people could move from one city to the other without the need to rent, borrow, or even use a car in any way. That means people who don’t own a car here would have somewhere else they could go!”

“Exactly.” Mr. Reevesworth was positively smirking, Collin’s pleasure mirrored in his face. “Right now, that’s only possible in a few limited places, mostly on the East Coast, around New York and D.C.”

“Boston is walkable.”

“Parts of it, very much so, yes. And there’s trains from L.A. to San Diego though only sections of both of those cities are walkable.”

Collin leaned forward, examining the proposed passenger rail. “You’re hitting a lot of the major community areas along the way.”

“Yes.” Mr. Reevesworth leaned against the table beside Collin.

“We’ve calculated available housing within a reasonable distance from commutable stops on both sides of the line and believe we can have sufficient daily passengers to make the project pay for itself in fifteen years, even without a significant uptick of travel patterns, though we expect that will happen if we can also develop both ends properly.

The key is frequency and consistency.” He pointed a remote at the project, and the map started to move, a fast-forwarded clock showing relative times as tiny train icons moved up and down the line.

“We won’t be running the long trains like freight does today, only short trains for passengers.

They take less time to reach higher speeds, take less energy to slow down, and require less infrastructure and track time to swap directions. ”

“How long before this can happen? Building rail takes years.”

Mr. Reevesworth tilted his head. “Fortunately for me, I own a steel company. Among other things.” He tapped several towns.

“We already have supplies here, here, and here, ready to go. What we’ve been waiting on is buying the land.

Last year, we secured the last of what we needed on this end.

We’re in negotiations with various interests on the southern end now.

And we had issues in these two towns. I thought we’d have to bypass them, but last month, we reached a deal that satisfied both of them.

We’ve never been closer to making this a reality. ”

“Is that why Bernstein is trying to stop you so hard right now, because you’re close?”

“Bernstein owns the contract to repair most of the highway between here and here.” Mr. Reevesworth motioned to most of the major highway. “He makes millions off that. Not only that but other road contracts and dozens of tollways. The fewer cars on the road, the less he makes in tolls.”

“But surely, he’s diversified. He has to know that this is the way the world is going, right?”

Mr. Reevesworth shook his head. “Men like Bernstein aren’t thinking fifty, sixty, years ahead. They’re thinking for the length of their own careers.”

“He doesn’t care about his legacy?”

“I think Bernstein would say he can’t enjoy a legacy but he can enjoy a yacht.”

Collin scoffed ruefully. “Does the guy have kids?”

“Ironically, yes. Four of them with four different women.”

“Then he’s not doing their inheritances any good.”

“One would think generational wealth would be a motivating factor. Historically, that’s only motivated visionaries. Bernstein and his friends are sorely lacking in any visions beyond what they’re accustomed to. They don’t know how to make money out of new models, and they’re afraid to try.”

“So why show me all this today?”

“Because I’m moving you to this team for the moment.

I want you to take a fresh look at some of the profitability and cash-flow scenarios for creating density around the stops, particularly these.

” He tapped several in a row on the map.

You’ll be my daily liaison with the team and a fresh set of eyes. ”

“Didn’t you have a liaison before?”

“I did. They quit last week.”

“Oh.” Collin frowned. “Why?”

Mr. Reevesworth grimaced. “Why do you think?”

“They’re being bullied just like us?”

Mr. Reevesworth gave a sharp nod.

Damian dropped into the office around five, dressed in a maroon three-piece suit and blue tie.

Collin was at his desk in the front office, reviewing his vocabulary for Chinese, maps and printouts for his new position spread out to the side.

Damian settled on the edge of Collin’s desk, looking bored.

“You’re all dressed up,” Collin said.

Damian grimaced. “Thought I had a coffee date and a dinner date. Turns out the first was just someone trying to get an inside scoop, and I canceled the dinner date. I’m over it. What’s the point?”

Collin leaned back in his chair. “Over the situation or over dating?”

“Dating.” Damian shrugged. “Feels like I’ve met everyone and they’ve all met me.”

“Do you know what you’re looking for?”

Damian ground a stress ball in his fist. “Not really. Maybe. Yes. But no. Anyway… Enough of that. What are you doing tonight? You’re back early.”

Collin waved at his desk. “New job and making sure I’m ready for class on Monday. I should get food soon.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Ash at the door. The younger man’s eyes were darting between Collin and Damian. Collin turned back to Damian. “Want to come out and get something with me and Ash? I’m trying to get him out of his cave. He hasn’t tried Indian food yet.”

Ash froze at the edge of the door. He glared at Collin.

Oblivious, Damian threw the stress ball up in the air. “I thought he runs when he hears my name.”

“Ash can be brave. What did you do to him anyway?” In the doorway, Ash pulled a face and made hand gestures. They weren’t very articulate, however. Collin looked down at his notes, ignoring him.

“I told him what my da told me about what happens to skinny guys in jail. They weren’t going to keep Ash in juvie once he hit eighteen, not long at least. He needed to know his options.”

“Why do I feel like you explained it in the worst possible way?” Collin dared a look toward the door again. Ash was still there, glaring holes in the back of Damian’s head.

“Because Ash is a good kid. And he did Mr. Reevesworth a good turn, telling us there were foreign actors in our network. Everyone else was being polite and using politically correct terms. No one was talking his language. So I did. And Ash made the right decision. I’m happy for him.”

“Then why is he still scared of you?”

Damian grimaced and rolled the stress ball against the top of the desk. “I may, I’m not saying I did, but I may have implied that I’d like to do things to him, if I could. If I could get away with it.”