Duke sat behind his desk, the Washington Star newspapers spread in front of him.
The August 2th, 1976 edition laid open.
He ran his finger along the main headline, feeling the cheap paper rough against his skin.
The front page told the story of the Big Thompson Canyon flood in Colorado.
139 people dead, water had gone through the narrow mountain pass, sweeping away cars, homes, and families celebrating the state's centennial weekend.
Also near the bottom, a smaller article caught his eye.
Niki Lauda, The Formula One champion had crashed at the Nürburgring and was badly burned when his Ferrari burst into flames.
Duke leaned back in his chair, thinking about how fragile life was.
He once though a lot about these disasters, but he had always decided not to intervene in anything that wasnt movies, entertaiment and business.
He couldnt afford to change the future too much. That would weaken his advantage.
He thought about Lauda, in 42 days, Lauda would be back on the track, face scarred and bandaged, determined to race again.
That kind of will, was something to admire. He wanted to do that for Movie Making, a decade had already passed.
He was 19 when he woke up in this time in 1966. And now he was 29 in 1976.
Big change to go from a nobody in the industry to one of the biggest powerplayers.
Duke folded the newspaper and pushed it aside.
He pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk and retrieved a manuscript.
He'd spent months working on it, refining the story.
The cover read Fullmetal Alchemist.
Duke had already made it into a comic sketch, complete with rough character desings in the margins.
FMA, was different from American comics, which were still dominated by masked heroes and simple good-versus-evil tales.
He flipped through the drawings, stopping at a passage about equivalent exchange.
The story's main rule.
To get something, you must give up something of equal value.
Duke stared out the window, thinking about his own life.
He'd built Paramount using his foreknowledge.
Wealth, influence, a beautiful family.
Sometimes he wondered what unseen price he was paying. He wondered if the universe just gave gifts like this without taking something in return.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
Archie Goodwin stepped in.
"You said you had something special to show me," Archie said, sitting across from the desk.
He adjusted his glasses, eyeing the manuscript. "I hope it's not another movie tie-in. The newsstands are already full of Superman publicity cause the casting is being announced."
Duke smiled and slid the binder across the desk. "This is an original. It's about two brothers seeking... for family in a world of military intrigue, science and alchemy."
Archie opened the binder, scanning the first pages.
He studied Duke's rough sketches of mechanical limbs and alchemical circles.
The veteran editor knew the readership was changing, older teens and college students wanted mature stories that respected their intelligence.
"The scope is...large," Archie murmured, turning pages. "The characters are defined too, whats the plan with this?"
"Why don't we run it in PULSE first," Duke explained. "Once we build an audience, we collect the chapters into trade paperbacks and sell them in bookstores."
The trade paperback was still a new idea in America.
Most publishers saw no value in reprinting stories they'd already sold.
Archie tapped his finger on the manuscript, a smile forming. "Bold move. But the material is good enough. I'll check out things."
With the meeting done, Duke left his office and walked down the hallway toward the main boardroom.
Duke entered the boardroom.
Barry Diller, Robert Evans, and Bob Shaye were already there, reviewing stacks of financial projections.
"Gentlemen," Duke said, taking his seat at the head of the table.
He unbuttoned his jacket. "We must finalize the slate for 1977."
A presentation board stood near the window.
The crown jewel at the top of the summer schedule Star Wars.
Duke reported. "ILM is working around the clock on the space battles. When this hits theaters in May, we will be opening Paramount Park at the same month to get advertisement."
Diller nodded, checking his notes. "If the toys and comics move the way we predict, the theatrical gross is just the tip of the iceberg."
Next on the board was Saturday Night Fever.
"The Travolta kid is electric on screen," Evans said, leaning back with his tinted glasses on his forehead. "Guaranteed good movie."
Shaye cleared his throat, to interrupt about Studio 13, Paramount's horror label, had a lineup too.
The genre division operated on strict budgets, ensuring profit even if a film underperformed.
Of course, The Omen had made Studio 13 pretty popular, their debut movie being a massive success was surprising.
Studio 13 still had other films for the year, Assault on Precinct 13, Carrie, and Alice Swiss Alice.
"We got The Hills Have Eyes from Wes Craven ready for spring," Shaye said. "The Car and Exorcist II to capitalize on sequel potential."
Duke nodded. Then pointed to another title. "Bob, how's Orca? We need a creature feature to follow the Grizzly."
Evans sat up. "Richard Harris is locked in. The animatronic whale effects are coming together. It's more sophisticated than the average standard monster movie."
Duke opened his leather folder, pulling out two contracts and slid them toward Diller.
"Diller helped me buy these two project this week, Smokey and the Bandit and a comedy called Oh, God!"
Diller picked up the contracts, his eyebrows rising.
"Universal wanted the Bandit movie," Diller noted. "Warner Brothers was already about to sign for Oh, God!"
Evans frowned, crossing his arms. He preferred edgy material. "Reynolds in a fast car is a guaranteed hit i guess. But George Burns playing God? Feels like it cheapens out our brand."
Duke rested his hands on the table, trying to not mention the fact that Evans had once made a copycat movie of Jaws, which defenily cheapen out His brand.
"Every dollar people spent on our ticket is a dollar not spent on Warner Brothers or Universal. We take their projects, dilute their revenue, and monopolize the screens."
The business operated on harsh logic.
Only so many theaters existed, by flooding the schedule with hits, Paramount could force theater owners to prioritize their products and strangle rivals at the box office.
Paramount had done this historically too, but stopped after the Paramount Act got into place.
Duke moved to the final item.
"Before we end things," Duke said, closing his folder. "We were offered a co-financing deal on Julia with Jane Fonda and Vanessa Redgrave. Fred Zinnemann directing and a major award contender."
Evans perked up. "That sounds like exactly the drama we need. Why aren't we grabbing it?"
Duke shook his head. He knew the political baggage attached.
"I rejected it cause Redgrave has been vocal about her politics. She funded a documentary supporting the Palestine Liberation Organization and the backlash could hurt us."
The room went quiet. The 1970s were a time of volatile politics.
Attaching a corporate brand to a polarizing figure was an unnecessary risk.
"We sell tickets to everyone," Duke said. "I don't want this studio dragged into the Israel-Palestine conflict. Protests would disrupt releases in New York, the headache isn't worth it."
Diller nodded. "Right call. We don't need picketers blocking theaters. Let another studio handle the PR nightmare."
Evans shrugged, losing interest.
If a project threatened the bottom line, he was willing to let it go. There were always other actors, other scripts.
"The decision is final," Duke said, standing. "Let's get back to work."
The executives gathered their files and dispersed.
____
Duke will invest in 'Julia' with Jane Fonda and Vanessa Redgrave.