_CHAPTER SEVEN_
Ben Wrail was taking things easy. Stretched out in his chair, with hiscigar lit and burning satisfactorily, he listened to a radio programbroadcast from Earth.
Through the window beside him, he could look out of his skyscraperapartment over the domed city of Ranthoor. Looming in the sky, slightlydistorted by the heavy quartz of the distant dome, was massive Jupiter,a scarlet ball tinged with orange and yellow. Overwhelmingly luminous,monstrously large, it filled a large portion of the visible sky, a sightthat brought millions of tourists to the Jovian moons each year, a sightthat even the old-timers still must stare at, drawn by some unfathomablefascination.
Ben Wrail stared at it now, puffing at his cigar, listening to theradio. An awe-inspiring thing, a looming planet that seemed almost readyto topple and crash upon this airless, frigid world.
Wrail was an old-timer. For thirty years--Earth years--he had made hishome in Ranthoor. He had seen the city grow from a dinky little miningcamp enclosed by a small dome to one that boasted half a millionpopulation. The dome that now covered the city was the fourth one. Fourtimes, like the nautilus, the city had outgrown its shell, until todayit was the greatest domed city in the Solar System. Where life had oncebeen cheap and where the scum of the system had held rendezvous, he hadseen Ranthoor grow into a city of dignity, capital of the Jovianconfederacy.
He had helped build that confederacy, had been elected a member of theconstitution commission, had helped create the government and for over adecade had helped to make its laws.
But now ... Ben Wrail spat angrily and stuffed the cigar back in hismouth again, taking a fresh and fearsome grip. Now everything hadchanged. The Jovian worlds today were held in bond by Spencer Chambers.The government was in the hands of his henchmen. Duly elected, ofcourse, but in an election held under the unspoken threat thatInterplanetary Power would withdraw, leaving the moons circling thegreat planet without heat, air, energy. For the worlds of the Jovianconfederacy, every single one of them, depended for their life upon theaccumulators freighted outward from the Sun.
Talk of revolt was in the air, but, lacking a leader, it would getnowhere. John Moore Mallory was imprisoned on one of the prisonspaceships that plied through the Solar System. Mallory, months ago, hadbeen secretly transferred from the Callisto prison to the spaceship, butin a week's time the secret had been spread in angry whispers. If therehad been riots and bloodshed, they would have been to no purpose. Forrevolution, even if successful, would gain nothing. It would merely goadInterplanetary Power into withdrawing, refusing to service the domedcities on the moons.
* * * * *
Ben Wrail stirred restlessly in his chair. The cigar had gone out. Theradio program blared unheard. His eyes still looked out the windowwithout seeing Jupiter.
"Damn," said Ben Wrail. Why did he have to go and spoil an eveningthinking about this damned political situation? Despite his part in thebuilding of the confederacy, he was a businessman, not a politician.Still, it hurt to see something torn down that he had helped to build,though he knew that every pioneering strike in history had been takenover by shrewd, ruthless, powerful operators. Knowing that should havehelped, but it didn't. He and the other Jovian pioneers had hoped itwouldn't happen and, of course, it had.
"Ben Wrail," said a voice in the room.
Wrail swung around, away from the window.
"Manning!" he yelled, and the man in the center of the room grinnedbleakly at him. "How did you come in without me hearing you? When didyou get here?"
"I'm not here," said Greg. "I'm back on Earth."
"You're what?" asked Wrail blankly. "That's a pretty silly statement,isn't it, Manning? Or did you decide to loosen up and pull a gag now andthen?"
"I mean it," said Manning. "This is just an image of me. My body is backon Earth."
"You mean you're dead? You're a ghost?"
The grin widened, but the face was bleak as ever.
"No, Ben, I'm just alive as you are. Let me explain. This is atelevision image of me. Three-dimensional television. I can travelanywhere like this."
Wrail sat down in the chair again. "I don't suppose there'd be any usetrying to shake hands with you."
"No use," agreed Manning's image. "There isn't any hand."
"Nor asking you to have a chair?"
Manning shook his head.
"Anyhow," said Wrail, "I'm damn glad to see you--or think I see you. Idon't know which. Figure you can stay and talk with me a while?"
* * * * *
"Certainly," said Manning. "That is what I came for. I want to ask yourhelp."
"Listen," declared Wrail, "you can't be on Earth, Manning. I saysomething to you and you answer right back. That isn't possible. Youcan't hear anything I say until 45 minutes after I say it, and then I'dhave to wait another 45 minutes to hear your answer."
"That's right," agreed the image, "if you insist upon talking about thevelocity of light. We have something better than that."
"We?"
"Russell Page and myself. We have a two-way television apparatus thatworks almost instantaneously. To all purposes, so far as the distancebetween Earth and Callisto is concerned, it is instantaneous."
Wrail's jaw fell. "Well, I be damned. What have you two fellows been upto now?"
"A lot," said Manning laconically. "For one thing we are out to bustInterplanetary Power. Bust them wide open. Hear that, Wrail?"
Wrail stared in stupefaction. "Sure, I hear. But I can't believe it."
"All right then," said Manning grimly, "we'll give you proof. Whatcould you do, Ben, if we told you what was happening on the stock marketin New York ... _without you having to wait the 45 minutes it takes thequotations to get here_?"
Wrail sprang to his feet. "What could I do? Why, I could run the pantsoff every trader in the exchange! I could make a billion a minute!" Hestopped and looked at the image. "But this isn't like you. This isn'tthe way you'd do things."
"I don't want you to hurt anyone but Chambers," said Manning. "Ifsomebody else gets in the way, of course they have to take the rap alongwith him. But I do want to give Chambers a licking. That's what I camehere to see you about."
"By Heaven, Greg, I'll do it," said Wrail. He stepped quickly forward,held out his hand to close the deal, and encountered only air.
Manning's image threw back its head and laughed.
"That's your proof, Ben. Good enough?"
"I'll say it is," said Wrail shakily, looking down at the solid-seeminghand that his own had gone right through.
* * * * *
November 6, 2153, was a day long remembered in financial circlesthroughout the Solar System. The Ranthoor market opened easy with littleactivity. Then a few stocks made fractional gains. Mining droppedfractionally. Martian Irrigation still was unexplainably low, as wasPluto Chemical and Asteroid Mining.
Trading through two brokers, Ben Wrail bought 10,000 shares of VenusFarms, Inc. when the market opened at 83-1/2. A few minutes later theybought 10,000 shares of Spacesuits Ltd. at 106-1/4. The farm stocksdropped off a point. Spacesuits gained a point. Then suddenly both rose.In the second hour of trading the Venus stocks had boomed a full fivepoints and Wrail sold. Ten minutes later they sagged. At the end of theday they were off two points from the opening. In late afternoon Wrailthrew his 10,000 shares of Spacesuits on the market, sold them at aneven 110. Before the close they had dropped back with a gain of onlyhalf a point over the opening.
Those were only two transactions. There were others. SpaceshipFabrication climbed three points before it fell and Wrail cashed in onthat. Mercury Metals rose two points and crashed back to close with afull point loss. Wrail sold just before the break. He had realized acool half million in the day's trade.
The next day it was a million and then the man who had always been asafe trader, who had always played the conservative side of the market,apparently sure of his ground now, plunged deeper and d
eeper. It wasuncanny. Wrail knew when to buy and when to sell. Other traders watchedclosely, followed his lead. He threw them off by using different brokersto disguise his transactions.
Hectic day followed hectic day. Ben Wrail did not appear on the floor.Calls to his office netted exactly nothing. Mr. Wrail was not in. Sosorry.
His brokers, well paid, were close-mouthed. They bought and sold. Thatwas all.
Seated in his office, Ben Wrail was busy watching two television screensbefore him. One showed the board in the New York exchange. In the otherwas the image of Gregory Manning, hunched in a chair in Page's mountainlaboratory back on Earth. And before Greg likewise were two screens, oneshowing the New York exchange board, the other trained on Ben Wrail'soffice.
"That Tourist stuff looks good," said Greg. "Why not buy a block of it?I happen to know that Chambers owns a few shares. He'll be dabbling init."
Ben Wrail grinned. "It's made a couple of points, hasn't it? It'sselling here for 60 right now. In 45 minutes it'll be quoted at 62."
He picked up a telephone. "Buy all you can of Tourist," he said. "Rightaway. I'll tell you when to sell. Get rid of whatever you have in TitanCopper at 10:30."
"Better let go of your holdings of Ranthoor Dome," suggested Greg. "It'sbeginning to slip."
"I'll watch it," promised Ben. "It may revive."
They lapsed into silence, watching the board in New York.
"You know, Greg," said Ben finally, "I really didn't believe all thiswas true until I saw those credit certificates materialize on my desk."
"Simple," grunted Greg. "This thing we've got can take anything anyplace. I could reach out there, grab you up and have you down here in asplit second."
Ben sucked his breath in between his teeth. "I'm not doubting anythingany more. You sent me half a billion two days ago. It's more thandoubled now."
He picked up the phone again and spoke to his broker on the other end.
"Unload Ranthoor Dome when she reaches 79."
* * * * *
The real furor came on the Ranthoor floor when Wrail cornered TitanCopper. Striking swiftly, he purchased the stock in huge blocks. Theshares rocketed as the exchanges throughout the System were thrown intoan uproar. Under the cover of the excitement he proceeded to cornerSpacesuits Ltd. Spacesuits zoomed.
For two days the main exchanges on four worlds were in a frenzy astraders watched the shares climb swiftly. Operators representingInterplanetary Power made offerings. No takers were reported. The sharesclimbed.
Within one hour, however, the entire Wrail holdings in both stocks weredumped on the market. The Interplanetary Power traders, frantic over theprospect of losing control of the two important issues, bought heavily.The price plummeted.
Spencer Chambers lost three billion or more on the deal. Overnight BenWrail had become a billionaire many times over. Greg Manning added tohis own fortune.
"We have enough," said Greg. "We've given Chambers what he had coming tohim. Let's call it off."
"Glad to," agreed Ben. "It was just too damned easy."
"Be seeing you, Ben."
"I'll get down to Earth some day. Come see me when you have a minute.Drop in for an evening."
"That's an invitation," said Greg. "It's easy with this three-dimensionstuff."
He reached out a hand, snapped a control. The screens in Wrail's officewent dead.
Wrail reached for a cigar, lit it carefully. He leaned back in hischair, put his feet on the desk.
"By Heaven," he said satisfiedly, "I've never enjoyed anything so muchin all my life."
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