Sam was an oil baron.  His daddy had been an oil baron.  His son, if he didn’t bankrupt the company or buy a baseball team or some damn thing, would be one too.  Sam knew there was a lot going on in this, room.  It wasn’t a real space, but with his gloves and goggles on, it might as well have been.  Everything else was fake, too.  The smiles, the platitudes.  The board was a nest of vipers, but this new guy, Babbage, he was different.  His frozen face just as fake, but he wore it openly.  Sam liked that.

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