by Chris Hechtl
“I … see …,” she said quietly.” An alternative is to grow them up there.”
“We can't ship body parts down though. Too many restrictions. People would have a fit about body parts being shipped like freight. Ghoulish. Imagine the image that presents.”
She winced and then nodded. “Then ship the patients up there?”
“Can they survive the trip? Afford it?” Jack asked, rubbing his chin. “To do one, we need a safer means to get up there, and it also has to be cheaper. A lot cheaper. Less acceleration?” He rubbed his ear, thinking hard. “A shuttle is too fast. It would have to be gradual.”
“Still, the stress involved ...”
“They'll have to handle it somehow. We'll find a way. Allow only patients who can survive the trip. I'm not sure.”
Ursilla agreed with a nod. She studied her son. It was obvious he was stubborn and not willing to be led down her path. Very well, she would have to follow him on his. “And while we're there, I don't suppose we could maybe funnel some of the money to other projects ...,” she said suggestively.
“Such as?” Jack asked warily.
“Well, your father, bless his soul, wanted a smarter partner. Remember? Even you wished for it from time to time, dear,” Ursilla said, looking at her son with mischievous eyes.
“Mom,” he inhaled deeply then looked into her eyes as he slowly exhaled. “You know what you are asking, right? That's ... you are treading in very dangerous waters.” The proscriptions against tampering with the intelligence of another species ... uplifting them ... he frowned. But the laws were on Earth, right? He cocked his head and pursed his lips thoughtfully as he considered the problem. Slowly he nodded. “But it will have to be a back-burner project, Mom,” he cautioned. “Something for the distant future when we have the facilities and funds. You'll have to figure out a way to pay for it. But again, keep it quiet.”
Ursilla shrugged, but she felt a thrill at his easy acquiescence. She could see a lot of ways to pay for it, and pave the way for more. Like the pet trade. Genetek and Biogen were flirting with both, but she had bigger ideas. Grand ideas. Unicorns? Miniature animals? Chimeras? The possibilities were endless in space. Her son was right. She nodded. “Then secrecy is paramount. What they don't know won't hurt us.” She looked out the window to the night sky.
Jack shook his head and laughed softly to himself. As his uncle said, in for a penny, in for a pound. “Oh boy. This is going to get interesting. Isn't it?”
His mother turned and smiled sweetly at him. “Honey, we may not be Chinese, but we certainly are living in interesting times!”
“No, Mom, something tells me, the interesting times are about to begin,” he answered with his own smile.
The End
Gold Rush
2072
Past historians have believed erroneously that the Terran asteroid gold rush of the twenty-first century was where Jack Lagroose first became interested in space. That has been proven untrue based on his own recorded statements. Like many adolescent male humans, he dreamed of exploring, of going to space and making his fortune. Unlike 99 percent of those who dreamed it, he achieved it. From his efforts millions more could eventually follow in his footsteps. Without his tireless work, there would not have been any defense against the Skynet virus of 2200 nor humanity among the stars.
-Federation Historian V'n'l
In July 1994 a comet was discovered headed on a collision course to Jupiter. The comet had already broken up prior to impact, but it was quite fascinating and horrifying for the world to watch. The impact highlighted how the large planet screened the solar system for orbital debris, potentially sheltering Earth like the moon did. The public was made very much aware of how such a strike had killed the dinosaurs and how it could happen again. But like most trends, it faded from public interest over time. It was highly unlikely it would ever happen again.
After the February 15, 2015, asteroid impact in Russia, the various countries around the world banded together in an agreement to pool their resources and work together for the purpose of planetary defense. Their first task was detection of potential threats. Within a year they had mapped out 90 percent of the planet killers and 25 percent of the city killers. However, asteroids in the Atens belt near the sun were very difficult to spot, and many that could be potential killers were hard to track. Efforts were made to launch satellites and observation platforms to map these threats better.
It had taken decades to up the numbers to a near 98 percent certainty that the scientific community had located and plotted every asteroid. In that time period, three known asteroids had passed within one million kilometers of Earth. To the scientific community, it was the equivalent of bullet burns, close shaves in astronomical terms when one realized that the asteroids had passed by the Earth and the moon. A Newton of energy at the wrong time could have proven deadly.
The planet's extensive population had sighed in relief then went back to their usual lives and the threat faded once more. But then just as the Mars program was about to launch, another came up with a very high impact projection level. Some critics had contended that the space community was crying wolf about the sky falling, but the outcry to do something had come on strong.
Luigi Irons had taken advantage of the threat and fear of another potential strike to redirect a potential city killer from hitting Earth to striking Mars instead. The threat had cemented the Mars program's success and paved the way to better space drives and technology. The mission like the mission to mine Helium-3 was a success. That impact had started the effort to terraform Mars. It had also kicked the interest of many companies and individuals interested in asteroid mining into high gear.
Deep Space Industries understood the nature of a mining rush before it began. The outfitters and suppliers had been the ones to make the true profit; most of the miners had gone broke. So, the company's founders structured it from the beginning to supply the various outfits that would follow.
The kick was Earth's gravity well. In order to make any sort of profit, they structured the project to supply the various space programs from resources already in space. They had three initial platforms: Firefly, Dragonfly, and the micro gravity foundry. Set up by execs from movies and IT.
One of their competitors and customers was Planetary Resources Inc. They were also set up by IT and movie executives who wanted to be the first company to actually mine material and return it to the surface of the Earth. Their initial target material was platinum, one of the major value raw materials in the solar system.
Jack Lagroose thought about all this briefly as he stepped off the shuttle and walked down the pressurized accordion tunnel to the port. He only realized he was breathing a sigh of relief when he crossed the second airlock threshold and the crew closed the outer hatch behind him.
“Gets to you, doesn't it?” a guy asked.
Jack grunted. He didn't want to seem like a tourist.
“I did a brief stint on the moon. It sucked there. And the dust was appalling!”
“It's worse here,” a stewardess said, shaking her head.
“Shit,” the guy muttered, stalking off, head down.
“Is that going to be a problem for you? We did warn you about allergies,” the stewardess said looking at Jack.
“A little late to turn back now,” Jack said with a slightly shaky laugh as he looked back the way they had come. “I'm fine,” he said, hefting the bag.
“You don't travel light, do you?” she asked. “Most people come with some gear but I heard a third of the cargo is yours?”
“On this shuttle. It was all I could scrape up from the family,” Jack admitted.
“I see,” she said with a nod. “Planning on setting up a grubstake and then moving others in?”
When he didn't answer right away, she held up a hand. “Sorry, I know I'm prying. I'm bored,” she said, indicating the custom's line.
“No, it's fine. No, I'm not planning on staying actually. I'm here to set up a bu
siness.”
“Ah. I see,” she said with a wise nod. “Well, good luck to you,” she told him with a smile. He nodded as she left through the crew service door. He looked longingly after her but then turned back to the line. He was last of course; he'd deliberately stalled his departure from the shuttle to be the last passenger off since he had the most gear for the custom agent to process.
He felt for the woman. She looked tired, and there were still ten people to go before it was her turn. At least he wouldn't be keeping the rest of the passengers waiting when they got to him he thought.
He'd sunk everything he had into the venture. Everything not nailed down by the sale of his prosthetics company to Nova Biotics. They had thrown in with having Uncle Ed as their guinea pig so his conscience was clear there. His holotank venture had been viable, but he'd realized it needed more than him to get it into production so he'd sold off the patents to it. He'd also sold off his other small start-up ventures and borrowed from family and friends for this, his greatest gamble of his life, Lagroose Industries.
Possibly a death sentence he thought with a slight pang. His mother was still a bit put out with his life choices and chosen career path. She had hoped he would have followed his investments into medicine, but he'd only done that to support his uncle. He was still wondering about that though. Did she put on an act in a bit of reverse psychology? They'd talked about it before; genetic engineering was a dead end on Earth. The strict laws and hysteria were making it harder and harder to get anything done. She knew he had no interest, but she'd backed his working on Uncle Ed, hadn't she?
No, he'd seen the restrictions on her field, and the other things coming down the road. Genetics might be the future as far as inner exploration, but space was the outer exploration, and that was where he wanted to focus his efforts. He aimed to be on top. But to get there he had to get out of Earth's gravity well and get others to follow. Get them up and keep them up he thought.
One step at a time he thought with a soft raspberry sound. He noted the couple ahead of him turned to give him a curious look. He just shrugged such considerations off. After a moment they went back to their soft discussion about what to see first.
That was the thing about Mars. It attracted one of three types of people: those who wanted to explore and settle, those that wanted to just explore, translation: tourists, and then the ones who wanted more. To get rich, to move on. Onward and outward. He freely admitted that he was in the third category.
He liked the opportunities that Mars presented. It was the new frontier, the place where mankind could go, explore, and settle. They were terraforming it, but it was rough, very rough—a true frontier place. Every week someone was hurt or killed he imagined. That didn't stop people from coming though. The cost was still high, but they came anyway.
Like the stewardess said, many came after pooling their family's resources together in the hopes of working hard and earning enough to send money back to bring others over with them. That was the plan, and some made it work. Others though … some didn't live long enough. But those numbers were changing.
The Irons family was the key. The key to everything he admitted. Mario Irons had largely retired from interest in outer space in order to manage the engineering of Mars base and the small town nearby, but his brother Luigi still had his eye on space. On space and on those interested in furthering exploration and colonization. On going further. To the stars, he thought.
Mankind was so limited on polluted old Earth. He loved the wild, but there wasn't much of it left. Out in space the possibilities were like the horizon, endless.
He had planned carefully, invested as wisely as he could, and brought his proposal and materials to Mars for the kickoff. But he needed more. He needed that extra spark to light the match and launch his plan into the next phase. What he had accomplished up to this point was what he considered baby steps.
Onward and upward, he thought.
He'd tried to find additional supporters. The various families on Mars for instance. They were quickly becoming legends. In his research he had found he had to get the support of the Irons family to get any further. Which was why, jet lagged or not, he had a 6:30 appointment with Luigi Irons. And that was in … he checked his phone. He grimaced at the lack of bars. He'd have to find a free hotspot or something. But he had time. He look again and nodded—four hours before his appointment. And Luigi had agreed to meet him in Landing, which wasn't far from the spaceport. Now he just had to get there from here.
“Mister Lagroose?” the woman said, looking at him.
“Oh, sorry,” he said stepping up to the counter.
“I'd ask you if you had anything to declare, but I have seen the shuttle's manifest. You aren't one to pack lightly, are you? You do realize a lot of stuff from Earth isn't usable here, right?”
“I should hope that isn't the case. A lot of it is industrial,” he stated.
She blinked and then nodded. “Oh. My mistake. We'll see, right?”
“Yes. But not all of it will stay here long.”
“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow upward. He noted her hands, the infinity tattoo around her ring finger.
He shrugged. “That's a conversation for another time.”
“Well, let's see if we can process you so you can catch the tram. The next one isn't due until tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, lets,” he said, licking his lips nervously. He hadn't factored issues with public transit into his planning. He wondered what else he'd overlooked.
~~~=>
“I'm telling you, it's the wave of the future. Anyone can do stuff on the ground. But most of the mining stuff here is played out. And have you ever tried to film underground? It's not easy. You want drama? Risk? The future? It's up there!” Todd Houffman pointed to the ceiling and beyond, then spread his large hands wide apart. “The sky's the limit!”
“I know that. But the expense is pretty inhibiting,” the producer said, shaking his head.
“Don't you think I haven't already thought of that? My investors are in. They know it's a risk. It's a gamble. No risk, no reward. But I'm in it to win it. I want to make every one of these guys millionaires. No, billionaires if I can help it,” Todd said.
The producer stared at him and then sat back. The guy had charisma; he could see that. He radiated it, the charm and leadership. The vision. A lot of shows on the web lacked just that. Someone who took risks, who tried and failed. And like Todd had said, it would make for good drama. He wasn't sure what it would be like if someone ran low on air, but he would bet the ratings would go through the roof if they played it right. It was one thing to see fictional people do it. Play it in a game … but you rooted for someone who was in the real situation.
“I'll talk to the executive producers and the studio board. No promises Todd. But … get me your schedule. Just in case.”
“Good,” Todd said, holding out his hand. “You won't regret this. I promise,” he said. The producer stood and shook it.
“I hope not. And I hope you don't either.”
“I won't. Mining the belt is going to be the adventure of the lifetime. I'm telling you; it is the next gold rush. Just wait and see.”
“I hope our viewers agree with you. We'll run the tests and numbers and then call you.”
Todd nodded. He knew those last three words were normally the kiss of death, but this guy seemed faintly interested. Hopefully something good would come out of it. With the cameras rolling he'd have a bit more income from sponsors and such … even when he fell on his face. But they'd make it work, one way or another.
After Todd had departed, he rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. A couple of former space employees, a visionary and his father, a broken down engineer, and a high risk venture in a high risk environment. If he remembered right, even a solar flare could kill everyone, even the camera crew! He shook his head then exhaled slowly. But that line about risk and reward, it was spot on. He would use that.
Todd was right he thought. And if it
wasn't dramatic enough … well, a bit of editing or a bit of mischief might cure that. He just hoped everyone's insurance premiums were paid up before they launched.
~~~-=>
Jack caught the tram and felt every bruising bump as they worked their way along the graveled road from the spaceport to Landing. The tram had been built with a mix of repurposed parts and native materials and it showed. The Martians were proud of how they got along with stuff, but they needed investment.
He knew the other tourists were rushing the windows to look out so he didn't bother. Instead he pulled out his tablet, hacked the bus's video camera feeds, and got a good look there in one window while he mapped out the quickest route from the bus terminal to a bathroom to change, and then from there to Mister Irons's office.
The Irons family weren't just a blessing, with them would come additional investor support in the form of materials, ties to the space industry and exploration market, as well as decades of wisdom in the field, ideas, and yes, possible financial support. He would take anything he could gladly. He could use it all and then some if he was going to get where he eventually wanted to go.
He'd brought a holotable with him, a small portable one. It was supposed to be a gift to the Martian leadership. More of a bribe ... but if it didn't work out he planned to scrap it for parts or sell it.
The holotable used a fine mist of nanoparticles suspended in a very fine mist of sterile water. Projectors and lasers were arrayed on the table top and on the corner towers; they projected the image onto the particles and mist. He'd run into problems with the design; any sort of air disturbance was disastrous to the 3-D projection. Even just walking by or breathing could mess it up. What he'd come up with was a plexiglass box containing the mist. It had resolved the problem but ruined some of the effect.
His other problem had been cost. He'd gotten the prototyping down with his judicious use of 3-D printers for every possible component. But there were some like the electronics that one had to mass produce. He'd found out that mass production was still the way to go. Three-dimensional printing was great for prototyping, but when you needed quantity at low cost, a factory had to get involved. That was all there was to it.