by Chris Hechtl
“It is always easy to pretend to be good,” Jean said with a half-smile. “History records that many men, fine upstanding pillars of the community had a dark side. They found ways to express it illegally. Remember the Alpha serial killer ten years ago? A fine pillar of the community Mr. Hydal was … and even when he was caught he still generated sufficient doubt to cloud the issue and get away with murder! Only when his compulsion drove him to attack the wrong target and get him killed did his long bloody killing spree come to a halt.”
“True,” Oliver said, nodding. “I do remember that.”
“History also records many who supported piracy, kidnapping, the drug trade, and other hateful things,” Jean went on. “They washed their hands of such dirty deeds since they themselves weren't directly involved.”
“True,” Oliver said slowly. “I'll have an intern look that up since that was rather vague,” he said, rebuffing Jean.
Jean nodded, realizing his connection to Lagroose was circumstantial at best. That was fine, let people see what they wanted. “As you will,” he murmured. Behind him data scrolled. Links formed from what he'd said to allow viewers to look up various facts. It was one feature Jean didn't like, it was too easy for a viewer to get sidetracked by some minuta of information and miss the main point.
“Lagroose has benefited Earth and human civilization with its schooling, industry, medicine, environmental aide, humanitarian aid, and the beanstalk you must admit,” The reporter said as he played devil's advocate.
Jean took the bait, eyes flashing on cue. “Yes, and then they indenture our best and brightest for ten years to pay it off!”
“But they pay them as well,” the reporter riposted with a small smile.
“Which goes back to my point,” Jean said patiently. “They take the best and brightest, indoctrinate them into their culture, brain wash them if you will,” he said waving a hand, and forbading to mention other corporations, religions, and his own organization did the same thing. “Then they ship them off to space. They can't come home until they've paid their debt. Sure they got a free ride initially, but after that they are well and truly trapped. If they quit or are fired, they are on the hook for hundreds of thousands of dollars in student loans as well as transport and training costs to get them into space. That proves there is no such thing as a free lunch. And you can't tell me they are being paid a fair wage. It's the same as what is being paid here by the firms we have here on the Earth. It is much more dangerous to live and work in space!” He pointed up and then pointed to the death demographics.
“But they don't pay for their food, lodging, air, and of course there is the scholarships to consider. Since they are in a habitat, there is no pollution. They recycle everything including the air they breathe and the water they drink. Millions of people line up every year to try to get a job with one of the space megacorps. You can't tell me they'd be better off here,” the reporter said.
“If they put that amount of raw talent to work here, we'd have repaired the atmosphere and we'd end things like world hunger, disease and the housing crisis. We'd be a long way towards ending global warming and the rising sea level. I say we focus on the problems at home before we go off gallivanting in space.”
The reporter nodded thoughtfully and then moved a manicured finger over his tablet to the next talking point. “What about the materials involved? You mentioned in several of your press releases and twice when you testified before congress and the UN that companies like Lagroose are stealing from companies on the ground. But aren't they exporting a lot of materials to the ground? To Earth based factories?”
“That's another thing! They are taking away from legitimate companies that have invested in mining and recycling here! That's thousands of jobs people could be working here to support their families!” Jean shook his head mournfully. “Imagine not just the miners who are losing out, but the truck drivers, the maintenance people, the packers … thousands of jobs have been exported to space. And millions are out of work here, begging for help.”
“Let's move on to another topic, the terraforming of Mars and other worlds. Your organization is against the intentional use of the greenhouse effect to terraform Mars? And the reversal of the same on Venus to make it habitable? That seems contradictory,” the reporter said.
“Not at all,” Jean said, sitting back and seeming to relax. “We are against terraforming because the money, technology and people involved should be focused in repairing Earth, not in long term projects like those are. They can wait. Earth can't. They've been terraforming Mars for a century now. They haven't gotten very far have they?”
“They have moved the planet after an excessive number of comet and asteroid impacts,” the reporter said as the producer put up the image of Mars then and now on the screen between the reporter and Jean.
Jean nodded. “Exactly. The world court should step in. They are doing a great deal of damage to the planets, doing irreparable damage to the fossil record on Mars for instance! We have lost so much history; we shouldn't lose anymore. And once it is gone, it is gone for good. Mars should be red. It had its chance. Venus did as well. God let them die as examples to man to be better stewards to our own home world.”
The reporter nodded and made a note on his tablet. “Very well, one last point before we have to cut for time. Lagroose Industries is considering filing for a business license and changing its articles of incorporation under Mars instead of Earth. What is your take on this?”
“I think it is another step … another blatant example of the betrayal of the ideals and priorities of Jack Lagroose and his company. They are making it clear they don't care for the Earth or its people, only for their own greedy bottom line. I hope brave men and women will step forward to stop them. I know we and others will fight this transfer in the courts as much as we can. I ask for those of like mind, who wish to protect our fragile world to do the same,” he said with naked raw appeal directly into the camera. “Don't let Jack Lagroose rob your children of their future. I beg of you, stop him,” he said.
-*-*-^-*-*-
Jack watched the interview with his lovely and rather pregnant wife. She could tell he was becoming increasingly angry and incensed from the way he set his jaw and the way his eyes flashed. His fingers drummed on the armrest. The angrier he got, the quieter he got, until the room frazzled with tension.
“Want to talk about it?” she asked softly. His hand froze then he shook his head.
“No. I'm going to call them,” he finally said.
“No, no you're not, Jack,” she said simply. He looked at her for a long fulminating moment then reached for his tablet.
“Wanna bet?” he said, not looking at her as he pulled up his contact list.
“No. Jack, no. Drop it. This is one of those times you need to sit it out. Let them have their say; if you get involved, you'll make it ten times worse,” she said, getting to her feet and then snatching the tablet from him. He reached for it, but she put it behind her. He reached around her, but she smiled and climbed into his lap as one hand caught his.
“Give me that!” he growled. She shook her hair out and tossed the offending electronic device across the room. It hit the couch and bounced onto the floor. “Damn it honey! You … you may have broken it!” he said, struggling to get up.
“Not happening,” she said simply as she physically restrained him from getting up. She sat on him. When he inflated to verbally call Athena to make the call, she covered his mouth with a hand and chuckled. “That's not happening either,” she said as she captured both his hands and pinned them between their bodies. She reached up and stroked his cheek and hair as his hands found her ample breasts. He squeezed, and she smiled. “Like what you feel?”
He nodded as she slowly took her hand away. “Going to behave?” she demanded, still stroking him.
“Bully,” he joked, mock pouting.
She grinned. “Damn straight!” she said, knowing she was half way to winning. “Going to make somethin
g of it?” She purred in his ear as she nipped the lobe. She sat back enough to meet his eyes with her own. Her eyes were gleaming with mischief. “I could always tickle too!” she warned, making a claw with her right hand. She pretended to examine the claws for a moment before she turned her feral look on him.
He inflated then deflated as she put a warning finger to his lips. She knew he wouldn't do anything to upset her or accidentally hurt her. She was ruthlessly taking advantage of it he thought with a slight trace of resentment. “You are taking way to much advantage of your knocked-up condition, lady,” he grumbled.
Her saucy lips parted in a sexy smile. “And whose fault is this?” She asked, resting a hand on her enlarged tummy.
“Hey, it takes two to tango, lady. I seem to recall you being there too,” he said, hands dropping to her tummy to caress it gently too. “And besides, I think we both enjoyed it,” he said softly.
She giggled. “Yes, that we did. Want to do it again?” She asked, waggling her eyebrows at him. She was determined to distract him.
He looked at her in surprise as she pinned his arms down with her own. “Um …”
“Well?” she asked huskily, then leaned ever so slowly forward as her lips parted. He felt her blond hair frame her face and drank in her scent as she kissed him. Instinctively his eyes half closed as he savored the kiss. It was over too soon; his lips tingled in remembered joy.
“Help, help? Rampaging pregnant hormonal woman on the loose? Horny as …” His mock protests were smothered by another longer kiss. After that all protests and thoughts of calling in about the One Earth interview ceased, just as she'd intended.
-*-*-^-*-*-
After the interview Jean met with his staff as the media talking heads took apart what he said and put their own spin on things. Gerald was there, which was normal, as was Megan. His personal assistant and body guard Tom Nash handed him his tablet as they walked. Tom wasn't one for many words; he just nodded when Jean smiled his thanks. Jean listened to the polls Megan Su his public affairs and marketing director presented him as they made their way through the exit interview with the producers and interns and then out into the night air.
He could tell the Asian woman had mixed feelings about the polls. He did too, he preferred to listen to his base but the woman was smarter than that. She insisted on a broad spectrum poll, not just of their base. Sure it was a part of the poll, but she made certain it was a balanced poll.
Some of his senior staff were not happy about that, but Megan's staff insisted on learning from Republican/Tea party mistakes of the first two decades of the previous century. The market woman didn't want to be blindsided. Jean grudgingly admitted she was right. They couldn't afford any missteps, and they definitely couldn't afford to go in with blinders on. That didn't mean he had to be happy about the mixed review however.
“So, you're saying it didn't do much?”
“It's too early to tell that. You did a good job balancing your public image, I don't think you came off as a paranoid crank which was what we wanted. You came off as thoughtful and wise, which lent weight to what you said. You held your ground and didn't back down when confronted, and when you were backed in a corner the two times, you found the escape they left open for you and used it to change the subject. But you know you aren't going to change popular opinion by force of will overnight. That's a gradual change unless some major event kicks off and gives the opposition some major headaches, which we don't project happening.” She shook her head. There was of course no way to plan for such things. You could plan contingency plans, but unless you knew it was coming, you had to think and act fast on your feet when it did happen.
She shook her short black hair out as he took his seat in the limo. Jean liked to present himself as a man of the people, but security had convinced him to take the damn limo when he had an entourage like tonight. Or when security could be an issue, which was true Megan thought as they passed through a line of supporters and protestors. The police had things under control, however; the limo passed through the lines and turned onto the street without incident.
Megan had been a bit subdued like everyone else while they passed through the lines and got underway. Jean took advantage of the lull to get himself a scotch to wet his whistle after the long interview.
“So, the bad news?” he finally asked, sitting back and crossing his legs.
“It's not good. Pulling out of Mars and stopping the terraforming projects just is a losing proposition,” she told him bluntly. “The same for the major space stations and habitats; they are there to stay,” she said.
He looked at her mulishly. She just looked at him with wise dark brown eyes until he looked away. “What else?” he asked gruffly.
“Hitting the terraforming efforts is long term counterproductive. The expense argument isn't working. The opposition has pointed out that it is paying for it out of pocket, and the costs are currently low. The tax payer isn't seeing it, and they are getting the benefit of more worlds to expand to in the future,” she said, shaking her head.
“So, you're saying we need to drop that argument totally? I'm not sure I like that,” Jean said.
“You don't pay me to tell me what you want to hear. I'm here to tell you what the people say and help you shape the messages you want to prioritize to get them done. A better idea may be to hit on buying up land on Venus and Mars. Speculation is an issue. If you get enough investors in early, they could snap up the land and either use it for future use or cause a real estate crisis,” she said.
“Interesting,” Jean mused thoughtfully, playing with his thumbs as he thought the idea over. Buy low, sell high was the basics of any business education. Getting in on the ground floor to purchase land and then sell it later sounded appealing. And if he made a profit off the space program … it sounded wrong, but he could always use the money to fight for what he believed in. “You have ideas?”
“Terraforming on Mars is really hitting it off. They don't have a wet atmosphere yet, but water is starting to be liberated by the greenhouse effect. Moving the planet is still an issue. But one thing we do know is strategically important land will be at a premium … if the current settlers haven't already bought it up. I know some of the mining rights have been bought up, but some of that will be under water in another decade or two…”
“Okay, so …”
“Think coastal property. Imagine owning your own coast line. Or, better yet, buying it up now when it is cheap, then selling it to a developer when they move in to build homes.”
“Interesting. Get someone to do a study on that. What about where the coast line will end up? And weather?”
“Weather is mild,” Megan said, smiling. “They've had some issues, but with the water table warming up and rising, it's keeping the dust down. I can get a couple reliable people to run projections. Maybe pull in a geologist. A lot of the information is public domain too,” she said.
“So, we may have competitors. I'm still not sold on this idea, Megan,” Jean warned.
“Going against the planets is a losing proposition. People are too entrenched with the idea of a new world,” she said, holding her ground. She pointed to the numbers. “People want off Earth. They want their own land, new horizons.”
“I get that in theory,” Gerald Freud said. He frowned. “We can still turn this around with the right incentives,” he said. “I know we can.”
“No, no we can't, and it's time to face reality and move on to things we can achieve, not stand in the road and get run over,” Megan said. She looked at Gerald who glowered at her. He was a small man, not handsome like their boss, but powerful. He had a mind like a steel trap and had files on a lot of people.
Megan, however, wasn't intimidated by the lawyer. He may have sold his soul, but he wasn't Saul Roshenko, the “direct action special director” of their organization. That Russian scared the piss out of her, and for good reason. Not only did he have black pitiless eyes, but he and his family came from the Russian m
ob. He kept ties with the mob and wasn't afraid of doing his own “wet work” on occasion. The bastard wasn't quite sadistic, but he definitely made her lose sleep at night whenever they crossed paths.
She held her ground and pointed to the numbers once more. She patiently explained again that people wanted off Earth. “It's dirty, crowded, and there is little hope. Hope is up there,” she said, pointing to the sky through the sun roof. “They see Mars and Venus as opportunities. If they are terraformed to a shirt sleeve environment, that means billions of people could relocate and could build anew there. A fresh start is very appealing. You can't fight that.” She shook her head.
“We're here to fight the good fight. We need to focus on the cores,” Gerald said. “If we abandon them now …”
“Right. And attacking Lagroose is also unpopular. Attacking a megacorp is usually a shrug moment, most people see it as David and Goliath and yes, there is little sympathy for the big guy. And even less if he actually does something to retaliate. But they are going to the stars. Standing in the way of that is suicidal. People look up at the stars and dream of new worlds to explore. That escapism is very popular now more than ever. We can spin that Lagroose shouldn't have it all; it's not fair or right. There are ways to deal with that. But unless something happens to change their ships …”
Jean's eyes gleamed suddenly. He turned to Gerald with a slight smile. “Exactly.”
“It could be done. We'll have to talk to the right people,” Gerald said, cocking his head. Jean nodded.
Megan felt a sick certainty she'd walked into something she didn't want to know about. She got quiet and then changed the subject.
-*-*-^-*-*-
“Told you so,” Levare said to Charlie and Jamey as he shook his head. “Can you believe those people? Give up terraforming and move everyone back down to Earth? Are they serious?”