by T I WADE
“Mr. Richmond, why this call for a Congressional Hearing?”
“Ryan Richmond, are you being accused of something by Congress?”
“Are you still on schedule to lift our radioactive waste into space?”
Then came the question he wasn’t expecting. “Mr. Richmond, what do you know about a meteor hurtling towards earth?” That question shut up the TV crews and they waited microphones at the ready.
“I will answer your questions in order, and then I must leave for this hearing. I do not know why I have been called to Washington. I have not broken any laws up to Monday, when the new Space Importation Bill was passed by the president. Astermine will be testing a shuttle exit every few days from now on to perfect the protection of radioactive cargo into space. Yes, I have been told of this approaching rock. All I know is that many don’t think it large enough to hit the ground. Other than that, it is up to the new Administrator of NASA, and the U.S. government to give you more information on the approaching meteor. Thank you all.”
He entered the Suburban waving at the cameras.
“Mr. Richmond, thank you for coming to Washington today,” began Congressman Charles Dickens, when his hearing commenced twenty minutes late.
Ryan had arrived ten minutes early and was shown to a seat outside the Hearing room and offered nothing to eat or drink. He had asked for an attorney to be there for the hearing, but had been told that this meeting was behind closed doors, with no other personnel allowed to be present, nor any recording equipment.
Ryan noticed that his wasn’t the only hearing that morning. As he arrived, a well-known older gentleman who owned a television cable company exited. The man’s face was pale and he looked like he hadn’t enjoyed being in the room.
As he entered the Hearing room he was reminded of long-ago feelings when, as a young boy, he was about to go into the principal’s office. He swallowed, and then followed the military guard into the room.
There were five members of Congress present whom he had met at one time or another. His three good friends, Bishop, Ward and Mortimer, sat in seats behind the lone empty chair, with Hal McNealy and a couple of other government agents in civilian attire. There were two generals in the room in addition to General Mortimer.
“Good morning, Congressman,” Ryan greeted the Chair of the Committee.
“As you know we have a new president, a new working group in Washington, and from the beginning of this year, certain people have been delegated by the Oval Office to get this country operating and profitable again. Thanks to the last administration, nearly three trillion dollars were wasted on misguided expenditures. Now, it is up to Congress to refocus the country’s direction and return the United States of America to a progressive disciplined country.” Dickens looked at Ryan, who showed no emotion, and took a drink of water.
“The reason you are here today is to discuss the purchase of your company, Astermine Inc. by the United States government. We know of your successful business history since you were in high school. We understand your abilities in running large corporations, and every person in this room wishes we had hundreds of people like you, successful clever businessmen who can make billions before they turn thirty years old. Unfortunately, clever people like you are declining here in the U.S. so the government has to work with what we have. China is about to go into an economic meltdown. Russia is looking in the same business directions we are going, copying us by looking at space travel again. Europe is about to lose the Euro, and maybe even break up into separate units. Many in this room believe, as our president does, that now is the time to take the lead and become the most powerful economic nation on earth again.
“The reason we needed to speak with you behind closed doors is that a new task group is being formed. This task group needs a leader and we want that person to be you. The main reason the government wants to take over your business is to free you from running your company so you can lead this new governmental department, the Department of Business Management and Advancement.” Again Congressman Dickens took a sip of water and looked directly at Ryan, unblinking.
Ryan looked straight back showing absolutely no emotion. The Congressman, Ryan noticed, looked tired. He had dark circles under his eyes, and the other four men on the table above him looked the same. Ryan decided to stay quiet.
“I will allow you time to let the idea I have just proposed sink in, so I would like to discuss your current Astermine business. We understand that you have a new program in the design phase, to aid our country by taking our radioactive materials into space and send them toward the sun for cremation. I think it is a great idea and commend you on your advanced thinking. May I ask how your tests are coming along for this project?”
“Very well, Congressman,” Ryan replied after helping himself to the glass of water in front of him. “Once we get the promised radioactive protection transporters that NASA is currently designing, I think that within two months we will be ready to do a first test with a dummy cargo.”
“Mr. McNealy, how are these transporters coming along?” asked the Congressman.
“Due to the new projects the president has set as priorities, Congressman, I believe six months will be needed before we can give Astermine our first transporter for testing purposes.”
“What quantities do you think Astermine Inc. can lift out of our atmosphere in say, twelve months?” the Congressman asked Ryan.
“We are about to revamp our exit flights for faster turnaround schedules,” continued Ryan calmly. “With the launch of our new shuttle last week, we can increase our flights from ten-day turnarounds to six days or, a new flight into space every three days. This will increase the speed of our testing and we intend to increase our flights beginning this week. We have a third shuttle under development to replace the one we lost. I could launch a flight a day if we had enough shuttles; six would be the correct number to achieve one flight per day with three-ton cargoes of radioactive waste materials.”
“A response please, Mr. McNealy,” asked the Congressman.
“We have designed one transporter on paper. Unfortunately, the president has put the design of this transporter back due to his new programs for NASA.”
“May I add something here, Congressman?” Ryan asked. The room stayed silent.
“NASA promised this transporter was to be ready this month. We have geared up for this date. I personally have spent over $350 million to produce our second shuttle designed especially for this purpose. Now Mr. McNealy is telling us he has only one transporter designed on paper.
“I think we are flogging a dead horse here. Let us get onto the next subject, space mining. When are you expecting your next shipment of space cargo to arrive?”
“Our whole mining project has been put on hold as of Monday, 9:13 a.m.,” Ryan replied simply.
“And, why is that?” asked Congressman Dickens.
“As of Monday, 9:13 a.m., it will cost me too much in new import tariffs to mine for precious metals and diamonds. There is no reason to continue mining with the new tax that the government has imposed.”
“Can you elaborate please, Mr. Richmond?”
“My company will pay 35 to 40 percent in federal taxes on any profits made by Astermine from mining in space. With the addition of a 65 percent importation tax, it could cost me 5 percent of my earnings just to mine, or if I’m lucky, I could end up a non-profit and make absolutely zero for the risk of sending my unmanned spacecraft into the unknown. Congressman Dickens, I have no more interest in space mining, nor has anybody else for that matter, and if they do, they certainly won’t return any cargo back to this country. I believe Russia, China, Brazil, India, Iran and Pakistan will pay well for precious metals like iridium and rhodium.”
The room was silent for a few minutes. Then a second Congressman asked a question.
“Mr. Richmond, the president had given explicit orders for NASA to take over from where it seems you have left off; going to the moon to collect the treasures yo
u have returned with. Can you tell us exactly where on the moon you got these metals please, and second, will you be willing to mine in space on behalf of the government until NASA is ready to take over? Or we could just buy you out and hand you your new position here in Washington and go on from there.”
“First of all, Congressman Mullins, my company is not for sale. Second, the president should retreat from the idea that he is the only person in this country smart enough to save or build corporations. Since the election, he has not added to private business advancement and, I for one, don’t believe in the bully tactics certain people in this room believe they have the right to use on private institutions.”
“And who are you to state what the president should or shouldn’t do, Mr. Richmond?” asked Mullins.
“As a citizen of this country and a business owner, I believe you, Congressman Mullins, work for me, not the other way around. Further, the laws of this country haven’t changed. If you would like to discard freedom in this country, discard the right of citizens to act independently of the government, discard the Amendments drawn up by our country’s forefathers to protect its citizens, only then do you, or anybody here in this room have the right to enter my private property, uninvited, and order me to do anything. As long as I haven’t broken any laws, and my corporate and personal taxes are up to date, you actually have no jurisdiction over me whatsoever. I’m here purely to listen and learn. As Congressman Dickens earlier stated, the world is in trouble. Our government cannot create jobs. That is the job of the private sector. For decades now governmental systems, federal, state, county and city governments, have slowly imposed more costs on small companies so that growth is reduced, which means fewer jobs are being created. Until you free up private business and keep your political ideas out of the private sector, this country will not prosper.” There was absolute silence in the room.
“I thank you for that speech, Mr. Richmond,” continued Congressman Dickens. “Let us get back to the purchase of your company. I agree that you currently have the freedom to accept or reject our offer. This country is still free, but I believe there could be changes in the future. We have a directive straight from the president to offer you $500 million, that includes what we owe you, for the purchase of your company and all its assets, including the Russian Space Station you so cleverly salvaged in space. You will be given the position of Director of our new Business Management Division and work directly under the president to help restructure our country.”
Again the room was silent. It took Ryan a few seconds to regain his internal composure.
“Congressman Dickens, I appreciate the offer. Please tell the president that since the first time he tried to bully me into doing business with him when he was governor, I haven’t changed my mind. I still have zero interest in working with him. As you so stated, I still have my freedoms as a private citizen of this great country, so I reject your offer to purchase my company. I would rather close it up before being pressured into selling. You will never own me or my company, Congressman. You will have to change too many laws protecting the citizens of this country to shanghai my company from me. I will continue my program to take radioactive material into space as a private contractor to the U.S. government. I will charge $25 million per flight into space. The amount of the load is dependent on Mr. McNealy developing a light transporter or, in six months’ time, I will charge you the $600,000 it will cost me to send out one of my own. As far as taxes are concerned, I owe the IRS 40 percent of whatever I have brought in from space. You cannot say that I hid these cargoes from you.
“You, the government, actually still owe me $265 million for the balance of the product you have taken, so therefore you owe me more than I currently owe you. I will reject any unwelcome visits to my airfield in Nevada. If you or those goons sitting behind me do so much as harass me, I will move my organization out of the country, and I don’t believe you can stop me. I will be ready for your first transporter, Mr. McNealy. Also, Congressman Dickens, everything I do in the future, you will be able to read about in the newspapers, or see on television. I will hide nothing I am doing inside this country from the citizens of this country. What I do up in space is my business, until, Congressman Mullins, you decide to tell every other country on this planet that certain members of this Congress of the United States of America now control every area of space above them. I doubt they will agree with you on that new ruling.” Angrily Ryan got up and walked out of the room. He wasn’t stopped.
He was livid. He stormed down the hallway and out of the building. There was no black Suburban waiting for him, and he headed to the nearest gate to catch a cab. There was still one lone reporter waiting for him as the guard took his pass and he exited Capitol Hill.
“What can you tell our viewers about your discussions on Capitol Hill, Mr. Richmond?” asked the older CBS reporter he had often seen doing Washington interviews.
“It was short and very productive,” smiled Ryan “We discussed the time lines of finally ridding this country of its toxic and deadly radioactive waste. Capitol Hill wants me to get fully up to speed to be ready for the first liftoff in six months. NASA has kindly offered to supply me with safe radioactive material transporters to keep my crews safe while they fly the loads to be sent towards the sun for destruction.”
“How long is it going to take you to rid this country of all its old toxic waste?” the reporter asked.
“If the government gives me the freedom to complete the mission, it will be eleven to fifteen years before the most dangerous materials are out of our atmosphere. Congress is so excited that they offered me whatever I need to help with this extremely important task. Compared to dumping toxic waste in protected deep holes in the ground in certain states, including my state of Nevada, the price they are paying me is about a tenth of the cost of the long-term protections needed.”
“So you are happy with today’s outcome on Capitol Hill?”
“Yes, extremely happy. All the government agencies have agreed to leave my airfield alone, as long as I keep the American public involved. So I want to have a few of our local news crews permanently stationed on our airfield; in fact, one or two of them could actually be passengers on one of our test flights and film the systems we are going to use to get rid of the major waste problem this country has. Yes, I’m extremely happy and look forward to offering this service to our great country.”
The live performance was over, the CBS cameraman lowered his camera and Ryan gave the reporter a card, saying that he was serious about taking the media up into space, and a “60 Minutes” team would be the first he would like to do a documentary with in space.
The taxi arrived and he rode back to Reagan, his anger still boiling over inside.
Chapter 11
All quiet on the Western Front
For the next several weeks, Ryan heard nothing from the government. Except for several news crews and documentary companies vying for space travel, it seemed friend and foe alike were keeping a wide berth.
Word had certainly got out, and he had a “60 Minutes” team ready to report on space travel.
During this time, a lot of product was flown into space. For the first month, the month of October, Astermine was logged by the CIA and NSA sending six flights into space. Each one was timed and recorded. Both Bishop and Ward noticed that each flight lasted three orbits and reentered at around the same time. Each time the Customs men, still on Ryan’s property, were allowed to see the empty cargo holds.
Six weeks after his hearing on Capitol Hill, he called the Administrator of NASA to ask about the production of the protective transporters. Hal McNealy responded, thanking him for the return of four of the scientists now working on the project. With information gained from Ryan’s team they had the transporter down to 3,000 pounds and, the first one could be ready for flight within two months.
A day earlier, the first load of cylinders to make the corridors for the cubes had left earth. All of the panels were now in spa
ce. Two of the cubes had docking ports and were now complete; the next three cargo loads would be biological products out of Suzi’s hangar. She had returned on one of the flights, weak and thin, to help her team get all the trees and shrubs that were to be planted in the first and second cubes, which would soon have light, warmth, air and 18 percent gravity for future growth. Jonesy and Maggie were flying one shuttle, Penny and Kathy the second one.
The time had come to increase flights, as SB III was ready for its maiden flight. All six of his shuttle pilots were now on earth. Michael Pitt, extremely weak after three months working on the cubes, needed a break; VIN took his place, giving him a week off to get fit and strong again while he was put back to work on the shuttle simulator testing his flight abilities.
“Good morning astronauts,” said Ryan Richmond to the six pilots in attendance at the next day’s flight briefing. “We have a lot to get through. Suzi and Ms. Watkins have joined us today.
“Mr. Jones, Ms. Sinclair, I would like you to test our new shuttle; take off is in three hours. With the launch of the third Silver Bullet, we will rename our shuttles, SB-I, II, and III. It is just plain easier. SB-III is slightly different from SB-I and SB-II; she is carrying an extra 1,500 pounds of weight due to the laser gun, Laser Beam Energy Producer, and an added 500-pound liquid-hydrogen tank and refueling system. As you all already know, she is four feet longer than the two earlier shuttles, and her wings and tail are 12 percent larger. Half of the extra length is her added liquid hydrogen refueling system and fuel, including her computerized pressure delivery arm. The other two feet are for the extra ton of solid rocket fuel to get her additional weight into orbit. Her cargo bay is the same size and she can still lift a 4.1-ton cargo load into space. Only Bob Mathews in the C-5 should feel her added 3,500 pound gross weight. Mr. Mathews has also worked with Mr. Jones studying the changes that could affect launch. Mr. Jones, Ms. Sinclair, I need my most senior pilots to fly SB-III. Mr. Saunders and Ms. Pringle will take over SB-I until Ms. Watkins is ready to fly as Mr. Saunders’ co-astronaut, and Mr. Pitt and Ms. Sullivan, I’m sure you are happy to fly together.” They eagerly nodded.