Delicate Chaos Read Online Free Page B

happen is to initiate changes
     that will benefit other people. That’s bullshit and you know it.”
    “The conversion is a done deal,” Swanson said. “We have regulatory approval from the stock exchange and DC Trust is behind
     it. There’s no stopping it, Reggie.”
    “I still have some influence,” Morgan said. “My great-grandfather built this company.”
    “And now the shareholders tell us what to do,” Swanson snapped back. “And they like the idea of the value of their shares
     increasing by forty percent overnight. I couldn’t stop this if I wanted to. And neither can you.”
    Morgan’s face took on color. “Don’t underestimate me, Derek. That would be a mistake.”
    Swanson sat back in his chair, his voice returning to normal, his demeanor composed. “The conversion is an excellent business
     decision. The wheels are in motion. It’s out of our hands.”
    “Nothing about this company is ever out of my hands,” Morgan said. “And you’re forgetting one thing.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Senator Claire Buxton. Her new fresh-air initiative. If her bill goes through, our equipment will be obsolete. Overnight.
     That makes our company unattractive to investors. Unless we have the money for the necessary upgrades.” He paused and stared
     hard at the younger man. “Which, at this precise moment, we have. But you convert to an income trust and pay out hundreds
     of millions of dollars, and that money is gone. Buxton’s initiative could sink us.”
    “It’ll never happen,” Swanson said.
    “Why? Because you’ve hired a handful of lobbyists to protect companies that pollute the environment?”
    “Careful. You’re grouping your own company in with the bad boys.”
    “I am,” Morgan said emphatically. “We pollute the air. We create massive impoundment ponds filled with sludge. We strip the
     tops off mountains to mine the underlying coal seams.”
    “I don’t think you want to repeat that outside this office,” Swanson said.
    The elder man’s face contorted with rage. “I’ll say whatever I want, Derek. I’ve been pushing for more environmentally friendly
     methods of mining the coal and burning it since we hired you. You, however, have managed to talk the shareholders into keeping
     the status quo.” He slammed a weathered fist on his desk. “I swear to God, Derek, I’m not going to let you run roughshod over
     this company, my family name, or our legacy any longer. The conversion is out. It’s not going to happen.”
    Swanson struggled to retain his composure. “Like I said, you can’t stop it.”
    “Yes, I can.” Morgan’s eyes burned with a strange mixture of desire and hate. “And I will.”
    Derek Swanson stood up and adjusted the sleeves on his suit so a half inch of dress shirt cuff showed. “This is going nowhere
     right now. We’ll talk about it when you get back from your vacation.”
    “Maybe,” Morgan said. “By then Senator Buxton’s bill could be tabled. That will kill your conversion on the spot. The regulatory
     body at the exchange and the bank will immediately pull their support.”
    Swanson turned and walked to the door without looking back. He closed the door quietly behind him, his mind a seething mass
     of hate and loathing. The old man was a dinosaur. The company may have originated with his ances- tors, but the shareholders
     controlled its destiny now. And the shareholders wanted what he wanted: the hundreds of millions of dollars the conversion
     to an income trust would pump into the company’s book value. That he would personally benefit by almost fifty million dollars
     was simply a convenient by-product of the restructuring. And without Senator Buxton’s bill passing through the Senate and
     Congress, there was no reason to change the way they did business. Although he knew they should.
    Coal-Balt was a poster child for environmental destruction. They tore mountaintops apart to reach the coal seams, then pumped
     millions of tons of