by Chris Hechtl
Which brought him back to his current venture. He'd thought he'd learned from that experience and he had. But the 3-D printers he'd brought along would make off parts for clients while also making factory equipment to produce more common parts in quantity when he could afford the extra investment. He wasn't sure if he was overreaching; he hoped not. Only the future and careful execution would prove him right or wrong.
The bus trundled into a tunnel. The tourists oohed about the brick and lighting. He looked up and then felt the bus slow as it pulled up to the airlock, then maneuver for the final docking. It was time to go he thought, gathering his things before the tourists got to their feet.
“Welcome to what we're calling the Mars Hilton,” the driver said with a grin. “Watch your step and head as you pass through the lock folks and mind the safety instructions carefully.”
Jack nodded dutifully in passing as he got off the bus quickly. He brushed past the gawkers and tourists and headed along the memorized route. Two lefts, a right, and another left got him to the public rest room. He changed out of his skin suit and into a charcoal business suit. He hated ties though, so disdained it in favor of an open collar. He checked his looks, nodded, and headed out with his bags.
He had planned to drop his bags off at the hotel, but he feared he didn't have the time. In fact, he knew he didn't. He'd be late if he didn't hustle.
“Mister Lagroose?” a woman asked as he entered the front office.
“Yes,” he said, exhaling to fight from looking like he was panting.
She smiled. “Relax, you just made it. He said to go right in,” she said, indicating the door.
“He knew?”
She smiled wider. “There aren't a lot of shuttles you know. And everyone new is news. He's the governor of the planet or president or whatever they are calling the role this week.”
“Thank you,” he replied with a nod. “Can I leave these here with you?”
“I was going to leave, but sure,” she said, nodding. She pointed with a stylus to her desk. He dropped his duffels and smiled his thanks. He had his tablet and flash stick; that was all he really needed for this stage.
“Good luck,” she called after him as he opened the door. He glanced back to her, smiled, and then entered.
Luigi was as he had imagined, an older man in his forties sitting behind a bamboo desk. What he hadn't expected was the lively eyes and smile. He had done his homework; he'd seen the man's video files and looked for any tells.
“You came a long way to make this proposal. You certainly are serious, Mister Lagroose,” Luigi said, standing stiffly and holding out his right hand.
“Thank you, sir,” Jack said, shaking hands.
Luigi made a show of wincing. “Calling me sir is like putting a TV in an outhouse. It doesn't belong, or so my dad used to say. Call me Luigi.”
“If you will do me the service of calling me Jack,” Jack replied with a smile.
“Sit,” Luigi said, indicating the light chair across from his desk. “So … you want to go to the belt? Why not go from Earth?” He indicated Jack's clothes. “You certainly had enough to get here, and with that suit I know the weight costs were high.”
“A bit,” Jack replied with a slight grimace. “Just a bit. But I don't just want to go to the belt. I want to push mankind to the next step. But to do that, my first phase is as an outfitter.”
“An outfitter?” Luigi asked casually, sitting back in his chair.
“Like Deep Space Industries I suppose you could say.”
“Not a bad business model to use,” Luigi replied with a nod. “Okay, why an outfitter though? Don't you see that you can make more profit mining?”
Jack shook his head. “Outfitters made more than the gold miners ever did. You know that, right?” He looked Luigi in the eye. “I don't want to be the guy scratching a pittance from the rock hoping I'll strike it rich before my air and fuel run out. I want to be the guy who makes and sells the gear they use. Makes it the best that he can, as safe as he can get it, and sells it to them. To sell it to anyone interested in trying to do it. And buying, refurbishing, and reselling the gear if necessary. To the belt, explorers elsewhere, and beyond.”
“Smart,” Luigi murmured. He remembered the various outfits that had worked on the Mars program as well as others. They had made money hand over fist, and a lot of the design work had been handled by Luigi, Mario, and other engineers like them. “And not as risky as I thought. So, what do I need from you?”
“There are two paths to space that I see—here from Mars or from Earth. Or someone can go to Mars from Earth and then on to the belt. Mars is one of the kicking off points, but there should be one in the belt as well—the receiving end, sort of like San Francisco; Anchorage, Alaska; or one of the other gold rush towns. The one common to science fiction is …”
“The dwarf planet Ceres. Yes, I know,” Luigi replied casually.
“Right. I want to build the gear. That means I need 3-D printers that can handle the job. That would allow custom jobs to be done on call. But I also need the ability to make things in bulk at a cheaper cost.”
“And of course the materials. Shipping them out of a gravity well like Earth is cost prohibitive.”
“Tell me about it,” Jack replied, rolling his eyes. “I know it's come down, but it's still high.”
“Very.”
“Deep Space Industries is the model I am shooting for, but I don't want to be limited to just outfitting. Orbital industry of course, but I want a finger in every pie eventually. Orbital construction and habitats for instance.”
“We don't need that here,” Luigi replied. “The transhab station we have is nice but it's aging. We are planning to decommission it soon.”
“Oh no? What about a space station? Or a moon base? A waypoint for people and cargo to stop over? Fuel? That way it can be stockpiled by shuttles over time or unloaded over time and transferred quickly to or from the ship so they can get the optimal flight window? To maximize fuel efficiency?”
Luigi nodded. “You are thinking ahead.”
“Yes, sir,” Jack replied with a nod. “And building such a base in orbit here would allow us to learn how to best do it say, on or more likely, inside Ceres.”
Luigi nodded again. “Point.”
“As far as the transhab station is concerned … if possible I'd like to buy it or get it as a part of the initial start-up capital, sir. It would be a great place to jump off from,” Jack said eagerly, eyes flickering.
“Ceres has a lot of benefits. Like the water in and on its surface. We can break that down for fuel and life support material,” Jack mused. “And if the miners picked up the supplies in the belt, they would be able to require less to ship there in the first place.”
“Native resources. Yes, it is wise. Though it tethers them to Ceres.”
“Initially yes. And Ceres would make a great turnover point for ships coming to and from Mars and the Earth.”
“Of course.”
“It's all doable. All we lack is the will. And the resources. But then, that's always been the problem with start-ups I suppose. All dream with little to show for it. But I can, I will make this happen,” Jack vowed.
Luigi snorted. “Your proposal has its own inherent risk but a far better rate of return I believe. I'll talk it over with my family and with some investor friends I know back on Earth. I'll let you know in a few days.”
“Thank you, sir.” He stood and shook Luigi's hand. “All I ask is a chance and a fair deal, sir.”
“We'll see,” Luigi said, returning the handshake and then watching as the young man left. He reminded him so much of himself at that age—so young, so smart, so full of life. So full of purpose, he thought pursing his lips.
Luigi made his decision. He had a bit of work to do still, but the initial one was made. He jotted a note and then nodded. “I believe you will make it work,” he murmured softly.
~~~~-=>
“So, you really think this wi
ll work?” James Mcgallis, the CEO asked Rick Carter.
“The Houffman model has potential for good drama. You know that. And I realize we can simulate a lot of it in a scripted series. But people see through that. They want reality. They want risk. That is how they best identify with the subjects. And we can talk to them. Not in real time, I understand there is a time delay.”
“Why is that?” a board member asked.
Rick tried hard not to roll his eyes. “The distance involved is … massive. Take my word for it. Light minutes each way.”
“Okay.”
“Light is as fast as we can send information. So if it takes say, six minutes one way, it'll take a two-way conversation twelve minutes per segment.”
“Oh. Ouch. I forgot that,” Bret replied.
“You obviously haven't watched the news segments when they tried to interview people on Mars,” Mary said dryly. “As I understand it that went over wildly well. We were trumped for some time. So much time we bought into some of the start-up productions there. We have one left, right? A web talk show?”
“Something like that. At least broadcast to Earth, which is our largest market of course. But they have home grown news outlets there. All purely amateur hour of course, but some are learning and improving slowly.”
“So you are watching them?” Rick asked in surprise.
Mary eyed him and then sniffed. “Of course. The market potential isn't there yet to put an affiliate in. Right now, we can transmit material cheaper from Earth. But it is a potential future market.”
“And getting in early might be the way to go eventually,” Bret replied with a sage nod.
“True,” James said, knitting his fingers together. “So, your pitch is a father and son rookie team are going to take some down-on-the-luck former spacers, a few greenhorns, all with pie-in-the-sky dreams of riches and desperate to make it big in space.”
“Fights, hard living on a frontier, real hit you in the gut stuff if we can swing it. Seeing them suffer in the first year will make for good drama. I looked at the research. You do realize less than 1 percent of the manned missions succeed, right?” Mary asked, looking from the CEO to Rick. “And it's not good to show someone dying from cancer or gasping for air.”
“Tell that to the people who run the hospital documentaries or shows like Grey's Anatomy, House, or ER,” Bret retorted.
“True,” James replied before Mary could finish swelling with her hot retort.
“I think they can do it. I don't know if they'll get much of a return on their initial investment; in fact, I doubt they'll break even their first year. It is a steep learning curve. But it will be fun to watch.”
“Safety of the crew too … this is going to get expensive fast.”
“I'm looking into the material Mister Houffman provided. I think we can shop around. We might do better. And we don't need the industrial equipment: habitats, cameras, suits, drones …”
“Drones?” Darious interrupted with a scowl.
“So we can fly around the asteroid and shoot from other angles while the crew is in the habitat pod or on Mars or even here on Earth,” Rick replied.
“Then why send anyone at all?” Darious demanded, looking from Rick to James.
“Because we'll need people to keep the equipment running, to keep an eye on the hardware, and to plan the shots,” Rick explained patiently.
“Point. But I think we need to expand it beyond one outfit. Cover multiple to have a competition. And of course by doubling down we'll cover our bets in case one fails,” James said.
Rick blinked in surprise. He could see the rest of the board reacting in similar surprise. Apparently the CEO was interested in the project, so much that he was ready to expand it. He nodded slowly as all eyes turned to him. “I'll have to go over the spreadsheets, but I think we can do it—with the right budget.”
“Work it out. Get with marketing. See if we can pick up early sponsors for the show as investors now. Work with Mary to polish the pitch. See if we can pull some footage of mining and asteroids from the archives and build a promo file for the pitch. Not that …,” James ordered, pointing to the file on the screen.
“Yes, sir,” Rick replied with a dutiful nod.
“Okay, next project?”
~~~--=>
“I think he has something. But it's tricky. I'm not sure he can do what he wants to do. And the real place to do this is in Earth orbit, not here,” Luigi said to Mario as they waited on his latest 3-D printed creation.
Mario glanced at the old machine and then back to his brother. He wasn't sure why his brother was involving him in the project. “Sure, I think the space program could use it. I'm not sure though about us,” he said, indicating the machine behind him.
“Mario, that thing is a dinosaur. You should upgrade,” Luigi said, shaking his head.
“Kinda hard to do since we don't get parts here easily. We can download some of the files, which is what I've done. And I have newer machines. But this thing still works. We need everything we can get as far as the industry is concerned. So, if it's not broke …”
“Don't fix it. Or in this case, don't scrap it. But you are spending a lot of time babying it.”
Mario sighed. “Yeah, more and more every time I use it. The print nozzles are beyond their expected life time and the servos too. They get sticky.”
“And getting them replaced would cost as much as a newer machine?” Luigi asked.
“Something like that,” Mario muttered, checking the build. There was some excess flash but so far so good.
“I've been consulting on the O'Neill colony,” Luigi said.
“I remember something about the girls nattering on about it. Why people would want to live in a rotating beer keg over here is beyond me,” Mario grunted, checking the readouts. He tapped the side of the box to get the sticking servo to move back into alignment. Maybe it was the gears? Something in the gear train? Something wearing? He'd have to check when the build finished.
“Oh, let's see, a custom environment, earth like, built to order, a couple of kilometers in diameter and about twenty kilometers long?” Luigi shook his head. “What's not to like?”
Mario turned to him with a sour look and then shook his head.
“Seriously, bro?” Luigi spread his hands apart. “We've only gotten terraforming just started here. It'll be years, centuries before we get to a shirt sleeve environment. But up there, they could have a viable habitat in a decade if everything falls into place.”
“And then what? People will want to go to the space colonies instead of here. You know that, right? You've been bitching about the investments drying up here.”
“Mario, Mario, Mario, space is vast,” his brother said mournfully, shaking his head. “There is plenty of space for all sorts of ideas. We need the competition. Competition drives down prices, it encourages investment, and it sparks interest. We need to have that. And hell,” he smiled slightly. “As an investor I'm in on the ground floor. So, if it does take off, I've got a piece of the pie waiting for me.”
“A nice cabin in the woods? Oh wait, they haven't even gotten off the ground, have they?” Mario asked sarcastically as he eyed his taller brother.
“No cabin, going rustic isn't my thing. I wouldn't mind going camping now that you mention it. And seeing outdoors other than a red desert would be interesting.”
“We're working on it. Like you said,” Mario said defensively.
“Mario, you are wrapped up in the capital project and keeping this place running. Wanda's wrapped up in fossils. Ever since she found that sample the United Nations has been down on us about doing any more terraforming. We both know that. They don't even like the idea of us building cities or accepting emigrants for heaven's sake!” Luigi threw his hands up in the air. “We squashed the attempt to pull us off the planet and leave it pristine, but only barely.”
“Yeah, ‘cause they don't want to have to pay for it, and we know every nook and cranny of the planet so
we've got plenty of places to hide,” Mario replied sourly.
“True,” Luigi said in agreement. Both brothers smiled at each other. Luigi was floating the independence movement with the other “Martians.” It was popular though. The United Nations was still divided on jurisdiction. Repaying the initial investment was the sticking point. Luigi was pushing the idea to ease the public into accepting the idea. He reasoned they would be indignant about the initial investment without it. But how to pay it back was still an issue.
“Axial 1 and 2 are viable in concept. They need materials and investors. I talked them out of relying on materials from Earth or the moon. They will be bankrupt if they try that.”
“I know,” Mario said. “Which is why you back the expeditions in the asteroid belt. Right now Axial Corporation is the largest customer of the belters. If they go under …,” he shook his head. The small industrial projects in Earth orbit and at L-5 were also customers of the belters, but they also supported Deep Space Industries, Planetary Resources, and others. But it all came back to the O'Neill projects eventually since getting stuff down to Earth was still a bottleneck.
Axial-1 was planned to be an Oniell cylinder twenty kilometers long and five kilometers in diameter. Instead of the cuts on the sides to let light in, it would have mirrors outside to direct light in to one endcap where it would run along the interior of a light pipe to be emitted within the complex. Axial was still in the build-the-tool to build-the-tool stage of construction. They had to build orbital smelters and other equipment to process the materials from the belt in order to reshape it into the desired end product. Fortunately, a great deal of the material they had received from the belters had been nickel iron. That would be great for the exterior hull of the space colony, but not everything could be made out of steel. They didn't want to admit it, but the engineering design was causing all sorts of fits.