by Chris Hechtl
“Okay ...”
“I'm not saying for free either,” she said, eying him.
Jack eyed her and then chuckled. “Why you little extortionist,” he said with a smile. “Okay, I'll pay you on commission.”
“Cool,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “I've helped Uncle Mario on this stuff plenty of times. Can Sher ... she frowned. “No, he's off with Cory. Hmm ...”
“If you can think of another person who is reliable,” Jack stressed. He'd have to go over their quality control carefully he thought. “ ... then let me know. Similar terms.”
“Okay, let's talk about that,” Irina said, pulling out her tablet and turning it on. “Written contract of course. You mentioned commission ....”
Jack's eyebrow rose but then he nodded. He liked the kid. He looked up as a shadow moved into the doorway to see Luigi there. Luigi looked at them, gave Jack a nod, and then took off. Okay, so parental knowledge and approval was resolved apparently, Jack thought with a mental nod of his own.
=> O
When they returned to their craft Paul looked at Todd sourly but sent Brandy off to check on John Schnauvel. Then he had Todd contrast the various mining approaches for background material.
“Well, there is this, the skim method also known as surface mining. We're going to do the same. Then there is the shaft method, where you find a vein or pocket and just mine that. Then there is the space dredge, which is where I heard some people want to do. The Christine Rose is a dredge ship being built in Earth orbit. They'll skim the belt for tiny rocks, suck ‘em up like a vacuum cleaner, then process what they want and eject the rest like rocket fuel behind them. They will use heat and a magnetic rake to get what they want. I was almost tempted to go with that plan,” Todd mused.
“But in the end you didn't,” Paul prompted when Todd looked away.
“No, no I didn't. Look is this going to take long? We've got to get cracking,” Todd urged.
“Sorry, go for it,” Paul said, waving a hand and getting out of his way.
“Appreciate it,” Todd muttered, picking up his tablet and tapping at it to get to work. He'd been tempted to pick up one of John Schnauvel's old claims across a ravine, but he'd heard a small outfit had already talked to the old geezer about doing that. Now he had to find something, a bigger stake further away but so far overlooked by the old man and his grandson.
“This is harder than it looks,” he muttered to himself as we went over the survey data.
=> O
Jack shook his head as he looked at the economic viability projections once more. He read again a treatment Planetary Resources had put out about mining the rare metals, and their potential profit margin, which was nothing to sneeze at.
But coupled to that was an economist's report that once a steady supply of the material went to market the demand would be curtailed. Essentially it would be like cutting their own throat, dooming the venture, which was why the small mom and pop outfits sending back small amounts was working out better than a full-up industrial system. None of the megacorps wanted to get into a losing proposition.
He didn't see it that way. The profit was there to be had, but not just in the rare mineral market. It was also in the other materials. The iron, titanium, aluminum and such. The stuff the get rich quick people were quick to overlook. They wanted a fast payday.
He wanted to expand space industry and colonization. To do that they needed those materials, bringing them up from the gravity well just wouldn't work out. For instance, if they got one of the rocks the Schnauvel's considered worthless off to Axial, then they could break it, then set up mining on it or feed the whole thing to a smelter. A rock a half kilometer in diameter would send back a bonanza of material to build the space colony. It would put the project in the black in next to no time and attract thousands of investors.
There was where the real money was to be made, not the get rich quick shit liable to fail. He looked down as his email pinged. “We're going to need that resupply rocket sooner than expected,” he read out loud. His eyes went on to scan the document.
“Great,” Jack said as he finished reading. And they hadn't sent him the rest of his money either. Or the materials ...well, he could do something about that. They could send the materials to Earth. He'd work on catching it there. And he could store it at Lagroose-1 until he could find the right market to deal with it.
But first he had to stick to his guns and get Todd to wake up. Which meant a nice warning letter. He checked the telemetry feed for resupply-1. It had successfully pulled the end over end flip long ago for the braking maneuver. The ion thruster had reengaged to get the craft on the right trajectory to match orbits with the asteroid they had selected. He nodded thoughtfully and then returned to the letter. It was time for Todd to sink or swim. His lips twisted. No, that wasn't right. Pay up, or shut up. He'd catch flak from the media for holding out for nonpayment ... it could kill them. But he had to send a message that he wasn't going to be used or burned.
=> O
Todd saw the request for payment and snarled. He had more and more bill collectors every damn day. Didn't they see what he was trying to do here? He shook his head. No, no they didn't. Apparently Lagroose was no different. He rubbed at his goatee, thinking in circles.
He'd set up stakes on a small two kilometer rock nearly 300 thousand kilometers from Vesta. On John's advice they'd picked up a small carbon chloride rock as well. That had used up a fair bit of fuel and water, but they'd expected to get back ten times a return. Mining it had been trickier than he'd expected, not only in the mechanics of getting it done and keeping the equipment running, but the time involved. They'd used up a lot more resources than he'd budgeted for to get it on track. But at least they had plenty of water and fuel now.
That had been one of the requirements of Paul. That had allowed him to not only keep his precious drones flitting around the base, but also allowed him and his wife to make ice blocks for some sort of igloo around their shelter. Todd counted the ice as a part of his reserve. Paul and his crew hadn't been impressed by their meager efforts.
“But we've got water now. A supply of water, which means fuel and oxygen,” he said absently to himself.
“What's that, Todd?”
“Sorry, talking myself through something,” Todd admitted.
“What's up?” Dave asked as he ate.
Todd grunted. He was gassy, another thing he hadn't planned on in space. That and feeling bloated all the damned time. One hand drifted to his tummy. He'd lost weight, and supposedly, they'd all grown a bit. He'd have to wait and see on Earth. He did know his utility uniform didn't fit him very well anymore. “Bill collectors as usual,” he muttered. His eyes went over the food allotment. He'd eaten a bit more than he should, worrying tended to do that to his appetite. He forced himself to not break out another MRE. He'd already had his that morning.
“Well, the good news is, we're a bit far for a repo,” Dave quipped.
Todd snorted. “True. But they can hold back supplies here. And they aren't making it easy on our families back home,” he admitted.
Dave's face worked for a moment. He'd gotten the same thoughts in emails from his wife too. “I know.” He looked away.
“But we've gotten the rock. We're down, we're setting up. But it's hard. Very hard,” Todd said with exhaustion in his voice. Getting the plant up and running had been tricky. John Schnauvel had come over several times to help. He was going to miss the old man when he left.
The show was going fine, they loved the arguments and near misses. Like the scramble for cover when the last solar storm had nearly caught them off guard and outside. Or the grim buildup of material around the shelters when it had passed. Todd had also cleared the access to the shelter as well, he wouldn't be caught out like that again.
John's shelter was wrapped in a water jacket, and outside that, the tailings he'd melted into bricks for extra measure. He'd given up on the magnetic fields, the power was needed to run the plant
and equipment.
Todd had run through a depressingly large amount of tools and spares quickly. Faster than he'd projected. Borrowing some from John was out. That was one thing the belters were firm on, though they did help from time to time. They needed everything themselves if they were going to survive and thrive. Advice was free. They had plenty of that but little equipment to act on it.
They'd learned to scrounge and reuse everything. To get along with stuff they didn't need, or nurse equipment along. But they needed that damn supply rocket. He checked the status board. He had two days before it arrived but now Jack had just thrown him a curve ball.
“I told him I'm not paying him for the water and oxygen since we found our own. He's pissed about the mass they took up on his precious rocket,” Todd said snidely.
“Well, we did order it Todd,” Dave said. “He can't discount it.”
“Why not? It's free here,” Todd said, waving a dismissive hand. “He's not willing to cut us a break on the price. We've got a contract. I told him I won't accept delivery of that stuff, but we need the parts. We need them. We need them if we're going to survive.” The crew didn't know he'd definitely robbed Peter to pay Paul in his desperate quest to keep them afloat. The rocket to return them to earth was in pieces at the moment.
“Damn right we do. So?” Dave asked, eying him. “What can he do about it?”
“Well,” Todd waved his tablet. “He just warned me he can have the rocket redirected elsewhere. Or sit it off out of reach, or hell, blow it up.”
“He's willing to do that?”
“If we don't pay, yes.”
“Damn it ...”
=> O
Paul overheard the conversation on the upper deck and shook his head in resignation. Brandy was miserable. She had a steady line of work, mining was dangerous business. The miners and crew were constantly getting banged up. But this ... He couldn't get the rocket either. The studio had put a crimp in his budget. The pilot had been a rousing success but now that sponsors were rolling in they wanted the drama. They wanted them on a shoe string to roll in the money and recoup their investment. Syndication was a rising market as well, as well as the warming commercial sales. It would be lucrative if something went wrong with the expedition, which it very well could.
He paused the playback of the piece he had been editing and pulled up the main deck's cameras and sound feed. He put headphones on as to not disturb the others working nearby. Hopefully, the topic of conversation wouldn't bother them; he didn't need a panic.
=> O
Todd grimaced at the open hatch. He lowered his voice a bit. Dave instinctively did so as well. “Look, I don't know what to tell you. We're broke. Until we get some product to market, we're on our own.”
“So that's it? You did this without thinking it through? Without the funds? You committed us to this suicide run?” Dave asked, voice rising in anger.
“Keep your voice down; you don't want to cause a panic, do you?” Todd demanded.
Dave eyed him in disgust. “You know, I should let them lynch you now or send you out into the vacuum without a suit for your stupidity, but I went right along with it,” he said sourly. “Which is my own fault for following blindly. Letting my hope and greed blind me to what was right there.”
“Dave man, come on ...” he said in appeal.
Dave sat, rubbing his exhausted face with his hands. Working in space was harsh. The suits left you itchy and crabby. They were claustrophobic from time to time, and if you moved wrong or too fast, you could run out of air. They had to pad the joints to protect them from getting rips ... and from cutting into the skin on the inside if something rubbed. Two of their suits had been breached; fortunately, no one had been killed. His eyes went back and forth as he considered the situation.
“He gets payment on delivery, right?”
“Yes, but he's seen through it. He wants the rest of the payment up front, not just the down.”
“The rest of ... wait ... run that by me again?”
“I was supposed to pay him a down, half on launch, and the other half on delivery. Well, I didn't have all of it for the deposit. Paul stepped up and paid that. But I haven't paid the rest, nor do I have the money for the delivery charge. I just don't have it. I wish, but ...” Todd waved a hand helplessly. “Not now. Not until we get back to Earth. And maybe not even then, we've got other creditors all circling me like sharks. Fortunately he's on Mars.”
Dave covered his eyes with his hand and pushed his food away. It floated nearby, drifting in the wind currents from the ventilators. “Wait, wasn't there something about his accepting rocks as a part of the payment? I remember you talking about that,” Dave insisted.
“Oh, yeah, that. Well, we can't send him the rocks if we don't have the parts, right?”
“And we can use that. Right?” Dave asked, eyes boring into Todd's. “Make this right, Todd. Fix it. I don't know how. Promise him a lot more if that is what it takes. Stakes in the company. But you damn well better use your own.”
“I ...”
“You fracked this up, Todd, you fix it. Or so help me ...,” Dave left the thought hanging as his jaw worked and his eyes sparked angrily.
“I'll work on it,” Todd said, hands up in appeal. “Your shift is up,” he said, nodding to the exterior lock.
“So it is,” Dave said, pulling his suit out wearily.
=> O
Jack smiled sourly as he got the latest missive from Todd. It was a plea; he was sure of that. Also an offer to get twice his cost if he accepted it in ore not in credit.
He sat back, rubbing his brow. Well, if they used the oxy and water he sent along to them as fuel they could ship back a good mass. He wasn't picky about content at this moment, he could feed it to a foundry in orbit of Earth ... or, check that, here. But if they wanted a follow up ...
Quickly his fingers flashed out. He would accept four times the amount in rock, at least ten tons of it in metals like iron, plus a 10 percent cut of their final tally once they returned to Earth. They could take that or leave it, he pecked out angrily and then hit send.
They had a couple hours to get it, process what he said, then figure out what to do about it. There was one thing he was certain of, he wasn't going to send them his other PAM. He was committed to another project.
He checked his inbox and his upper lip wrinkled in a snarl. Emerite Industries was making a play on the market. They'd bought up shares of some of the other companies and were now after the infrastructure. He'd checked last week; they were funded by a group of hedge fund pirates and backed by Middle East money. He'd also seen what they'd done with the other companies, for the most part, shut them down. Someone didn't like it that mankind was stretching his wings. Either that or they saw the asteroid mining as a potential threat to their terrestrial investments and were either diversifying their market or trying to crush the competition.
They'd managed to buy one share from one of his sister's cousins before he'd locked it down. His company hadn't gone public yet, so they couldn't buy the shares through the market. They had started to get downright nasty about wanting him to sell out when they realized he had more invested than time and money. No, he was in it for the long haul, and since he was on Mars, it wasn't like they could hurt him here. He shook his head.
=> O
Todd read the email and smiled. He had him now; the man was over a barrel. He knew he had his own creditors to deal with; most likely the company had borrowed heavily to finance the venture. He felt for him distantly, but he had his own concerns to deal with. His family came first.
Four times ... he shook his head. And ten tons of metal ore? Well, he did mention it could be semi-processed, and he had specified iron or other metals were acceptable. The 10 percent was out; he couldn't see that. He couldn't afford it. No. He shook his head as he crafted his counter proposal.
=> O
Jack watched the telemetry feed as his PAM cut its braking engine and drifted. The work crew from 360 M
ining were there waiting. The camera feed showed them eagerly approaching the craft in a suit and MMU. He nodded. He had a new contract with Todd Houffman, but for four times the materials, twenty tons in metals other than silica, and 5 percent of the final cut. It wasn't the money he had been promised, but it beat getting stiffed totally. He could sell the metals once he got them. Once he got them, he reminded himself.
Well, the fuel would be enough to push them to Earth. The PAM would return to Mars once it was serviced. They couldn't scavenge it. Or at least they damn well better not, he thought angrily, making a note to watch out for that sort of trick.
=> O
Dave opened the cargo container and grinned at the contents. The cargo manifest was there, but so was a note and a box. He picked it up, hefting it as he read the note. “Guys,” he said, looking at the others.
“To the pioneers,” he read out loud. “Those who fight for their dreams, who strive for success. They say that man's reach should always exceed his grasp. I'm not one of those people, I'm one of those people who believe we can do anything we set our minds to. Good luck, great work. Here is a token of my appreciation.” He flipped the small cartoon around for them to see the food label. It was a canned chicken sent from the farms on Mars. The crew broke into cheers.
“That Jack guy, he's not all that bad,” Dave said as he clasped Todd on the shoulder.
“No, I see he's not,” Todd said thoughtfully to himself as he grinned at the group.
=> O
Nine months after the expedition launched 360 Mining returned to Earth orbit, weary and ready to go home. Todd didn't want to admit it, but he'd had to return. They'd spent four months getting there, three months on the rock, and another two getting home. They'd left all their equipment behind in order to have room for the cargo of rare metals. He was looking forward to selling it groundside, but the import fees made him wince. That and the market's constant flocculation.