Regan's Planet

NINE

Regan was back in Washington by nightfall, weary but more confident than ever. He had weathered the storm, had held onto control of Global Factors. But he had won not a war but a skirmish, and on a secondary front at that. His display of self-confidence had wowed the Board of Directors, but it didn’t necessarily mean that the 1992 Columbian Exposition was ipso facto a going proposition. The Saudi Arabian pullout had been crushing in its effect on Global Factors’ relationship to the holding company that had underwritten the bonds, not to the Fair itself-but he needed much more support to get the Fair moving.

The Brazilians were doing nobly. They were actually five days ahead of the official construction schedule. The main struts and trusses of the Fair Satellite were in place, and it was possible now to view the orbiting moonlet through a telescope and get a reasonable idea of how it would look when completed, seventeen months from now.

Signs of public interest were growing, too. Visiting New York one day, Regan was delighted to see a man in Times Square selling telescope peeks at a dime apiece-offering views not of Saturn’s rings or the canals of Mars, but of the new World’s Fair Satellite. “See the World’s Fair orbiter!” he was yelling, and he was doing good business.

If people were willing to pay a dime in the spring of 1991 for a peek at the Satellite, Regan thought, they ought to be willing to pay a few hundred dollars in the fall of 1992 for a visit to the Fair itself. Yes?

It remained to be seen, of course. Commercial space travel was a relatively new thing. Commercial space lines, with routes to the Moon and Mars, went back only to 1985. It cost five thousand dollars one way to the Moon, ten times as much to Mars, and only an infinitesimal fraction of the world’s population had ever been on a space trip. Space travel was as much of a novelty now as commercial air travel had been in, say, 1928.

How many people had gone for airline rides in 1928, Regan wondered?

Not very many. And not many were likely to hop a rocket to the World’s Fair, either. A Fair staged on Earth could expect hundreds of thousands of visitors a day, while he anticipated no more than five thousand a day visiting the satellite. But the Fair would draw only the big spenders. The station-wagon crowds who would come to a terrestrial Fair would leave no money behind; those who made the initial heavy investment of buying a rocket ticket would be more free with their funds once up there. The Fair would rise and fall on the success of its concessions, after all.

The prospects looked good, anyway, if people were interested enough in the Fair to pay a dime to see its site. But there was plenty of work ahead, and no time for counting chickens in advance.

The Brazilians had to be paid. That money came out of the bond proceeds-inexorable millions flowing towards Brasilia at a steady pace. There was an interest payment to meet; even on a three percent bond, the semiannual interest cost amounted to a cool $90,000,000. That had to be paid, too.

The Fair corporation did not have much of an income, as yet. Contracts were being signed for display space, and advance rental began to trickle in from the exhibitors and concessionaires-not much, yet, but it was enough. Enough to cover the payrolls of Regan’s staff, which grew from day to day as new chores made then: demands.

He kept busy. In his capacity as head of the Fair, he was occupied in lining up exhibitors. In bis capacity as head of Columbus Equities Corporation-and a twenty percent stockholder-he devoted a fair amount of his time to peddling World’s Fair bonds in order to get Global Factors off that particular hook. The bonds sold. Not heavily, but steadily, and that was some comfort. And finally, as head of Global Factors, Inc., Regan had plenty to do, delegated authority notwithstanding.

There was progress on all fronts.

There were also some setbacks, both big and small. The big troubles included a one-day strike of construction workers in Brazil, which was settled by a hasty pay increase, and then by an even hastier visit by high Aero do Brasil officers to Regan’s Washington headquarters.

‘We will lose money on the contract,“ they told Regan. ”This strike has crippled us. We must renegotiate the terms at once!“

Regan lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t remember any renegotiation clause in our contract.”

‘Nonetheless-simple equity demands-“

‘We have our financing problems too,“ Regan declared blandly. ”I can’t help but sympathize, but all the same, there’s a contract between us, and I think it should be abided by. Perhaps later on, once the Fair has begun to turn a profit, we can work out some kind of compensation for the losses you’ve suffered as a result of this strike.“

The Brazilians left, muttering and grumbling. Construction continued. Regan felt only faintly sorry for them. He had known from the start, even if they hadn’t, that they would lose money building the satellite-maybe as much as two billion dollars. It was their hard luck if they hadn’t been able to foresee that. And if they had foreseen it, but had hoped somehow to muddle through and wring a little extra out of the Fair as time went along-well, hard lines, Aero do Brasil, hard lines!

Regan’s aides were a little troubled by the visit of the Brazilians. “Suppose they break the contract?” Lyle Henderson suggested. “Suppose they just quit dead rather than take further losses?”

‘It would mean the end of the Brazilian space industry,“ Regan said. ”They wouldn’t get another contract from anybody, and they know it. Besides, we’d sue them for umpty-ump billion at the World Court.“

‘And if they simply go bankrupt?“ Henderson asked, his long face somber.

‘You gloomy bastard! Do you think they’re likely to go bankrupt? Would General Motors go bankrupt? DuPont? Global Factors?“

‘A two-billion dollar loss-“

‘They’ve got a subsidy from their government,“ Regan said. ”They won’t fold up. Listen, stop feeling so sorry for them. What they’re getting on publicity for this job will more than pay them back for out-of-pocket losses. They’ll make out all right.“

That was a typical big crisis-something that threatened the success of the entire enterprise. The small crises were more frequent, and less harrowing. But they could be troublesome, too.

There was, for example, the visit of a gray-haired, gray-eyed gentleman who identified himself as Thorkell Thorvald-son, a businessman of Reykjavik. Mr. Thorvaldson arrived in Regan’s office with a letter of introduction from the Icelandic Ambassador to the United Nations, and, although Iceland was not expected to have a pavilion at the World’s Fair, it seemed to Regan that the least he could do was give the gentleman a few minutes of his time.

Thorkell Thorvaldson had come, it developed, to do some special pleading for countrymen of his.

‘I represent a substantial body of opinion in Iceland,“ Thorvaldson said in lilting, agreeable-sounding English. ”We are eager to have a long-standing injustice undone. You plan this World’s Fair to honor Columbus’ discovery of America. But, as is well known, Columbus did not discover America. He was quite late for that.“

Regan briefly closed his eyes. Another crank, he thought!

He had been through Hoei-Shin’s voyage to Fusang with Chairman Ch’ien, and he had heard of Columbus’ Jewish ancestry as expounded by the Emir Talal. And now…

‘Yes,“ Regan said politely, ”I’m aware of the stories of Leif Ericsson. It seems to me that there’s a certain amount of justice there, but-“

‘You misundersand,“ Thorvaldson said. ”Leif Ericsson preceded Columbus, yes. But he was by no means the first discoverer of the Americas.“

‘No?“

‘No. May I offer these documents? This is an account of the voyage of Ari Marson from Iceland to North America, a.d. 982. Here is the chronicle of Ari. ’He was driven by a tempest to Hvitramannaland, which some call Great Ireland; it lies to the west in the sea, near to Vinland the Good, and six days’ sailing west from Ireland.‘ I offer here the account of Bjarni Herjulfsson, who in the year 986 set out from Iceland to Greenland, but was blown off course and reached your Cape Cod. Then, of course, there is the familiar tale of Leif Ericsson, also a settler in New England, who in the year 1003-“

Very gently, Regan interrupted. “Mr. Thorvaldson?” “Yes, Factor?”

‘I know the Vikings are supposed to have discovered America. The Chinese have made an earlier claim. A Buddhist priest named Hoei-Shin, in 499 a.d.-“

‘Undocumented, Mr. Factor. A total fabrication. I have gone into this very carefully, and I can tell you plainly that the Chinese did not reach North or South or even Central America. Perhaps they reached the Philippines, or Hawaii, but not the Americas!“

‘All right, then. The Vikings-“

‘Are the first documented discoverers. See, read these, Mr. Factor! They give you proof.“ ”But what am I supposed to do?“

‘Perhaps give these discoveries some official recognition in your World’s Fair,“ Thorvaldson suggested hopefully. ”1992 is the one thousand and tenth anniversary of Ari Marson’s voyage to the New World. Perhaps the Fair could be renamed so as to honor Ari Marson, instead of-“

‘We customarily hold these celebrations to honor a round-figured anniversary, Mr. Thorvaldson. Since we’re ten years too late for Ari Marson, it’s probably better to honor Columbus instead.“

‘But not as discoverer! Not as discoverer! Rediscoverer, Mr. Factor. That must be stressed in your official propaganda. Rediscoverer!“

The descendant of the Vikings grew red in the face. He slapped the sheaf of documents on Regan’s desk and repeated his theories several times, more insistently each time. He grew confused, lapsed occasionally into Icelandic, or what Regan assumed was Icelandic.

Regan buzzed for help. Lyle Henderson appeared and tactfully escorted Thorvaldson out, murmuring reassuring things and getting replied to with thick staccato bursts of Norse. When he was gone, Regan gathered up the sheaf of impressive-looking documents the Icelander had given him, and called in a young, diligent member of his public-relations staff.

‘Jim, take these things and read them through carefully. Then get hold of all the literature on pre-Columbian discoveries of America. Saint Whatsis, and the Welsh prince, and Leif Ericsson, and the Chinese, and all the rest. Do up a brochure on the subject. A nice thick press release in which we study the claims of all the others and simultaneously conclude, a) that every pre-Columbian claimant has a great deal of merit worth noting, and b) Columbus still discovered America. Can you do that?“

‘I’ll give it a try, Factor Regan.“

‘Give it a damned good try. And get copies off to all the libraries, the newsfax sheets, the American consulate in Iceland, and anybody else you think deserves one. From now on I don’t want to hear any more on the subject. It’s your baby, all the way.“

The Fair was moving along. The sheer size of the operation was beginning to arouse fascination, even among those who were originally opposed to the whole idea. It confirmed a long-standing belief of Regan’s, to the effect that the difference between a crackpot and a genius is simply a failure on the crackpot’s part to think big. A crackpot, faced with the need to find a site for a World’s Fair in a hurry, might suggest a floating island in the Atlantic. A genius would toss the whole Fair into a sky-high orbit-and then make- it happen.

With things going more smoothly at the Washington headquarters, Regan could afford to devote a little more time to the activities of Global Factors, Inc.-and even to think a bit about the vacation Nola had half-committed him to taking on Mars.

There was some unfinished business in Denver, having to do with the loyalty of certain members of the corporation’s Board of Directors. Regan took no action for several weeks after the vote that had confirmed him in control of the company. But finally he decided to have face-to-face chats with Messrs. Olcott and Harris.

He sent for Olcott first.

The wiry comptroller looked unworried. “I’ve been expecting this meeting for some time now, Factor.”

‘Oh?“

‘You want to talk to me about that Board of Directors’ meeting, I suppose.“

‘You suppose correctly.“ Regan rose, paced around his vast office, turned to confront the other. ”Olcott, you were part of the group that voted to hold the meeting. Obviously you were eager to have me removed as Chief Executive Officer.“

‘No, sir.“

‘No?“

Olcott said, “I was anxious to have the issues aired. I don’t mind telling you I was seriously worried about the company’s finances. That bond issue-”

‘Yes, I knew. It horrifies you to think of how many billions we’ve tied up speculatively at a three percent yield.“

‘Yes, sir. It does horrify me. Or it did. I wanted to hear how you could justify it. So when your uncle came to me and solicited my support for the special meeting. I signed the petition.“

‘You thought I was leading the company down the road to ruin,“ Regan said. ”Eh?“

Olcott did not smile. “I’m afraid I did, Factor Regan.”

‘Do you still feel that way?“

‘I’m willing to wait and see. Your speech at the meeting persuaded me that it was premature to act against you. I voted in favor of your retention.“

‘I figured that you did.“ Regan shook his head. ”You’re braver than I thought, Olcott. You had the guts to cooperate in hauling me on the carpet, and now you tell me to my face that you had grave doubts about my competence. That’s a novelty. The only people in this company who ever tell me anything to my face are my uncle and Rex Bennett, and what they tell me is not stuff I like to hear.“

Olcott moistened his thin lips. “If you feel that our working relationship has been undermined by my actions against you, Factor, I’ll be glad to tender my resignation. There are other employment opportunities which-”

‘No, Olcott. Your job is to keep watch on the company finances, and if you think things are going wrong, it’s your job to yell. Even if you step on my corns in the process. I’m not firing you. The idea of your going to work for Interworld or one of the other competitors doesn’t appeal to me, and I like your independence, besides.“

‘Thank you, sir.“

‘One thing, though. Bruce may try to oust me again before the Fair is open. Stick with me, will you, Olcott? I think I know where I’m heading-and I think the company will benefit from it.“

Olcott left. Regan was satisfied with the man’s honesty, impressed with Olcott’s willingness to put company loyalty above personal loyalty. They understood each other now. Regan nudged the intercom. “Send in Harris.” Nola’s brother entered, haltingly, walking in a sideways crablike scuttle as though he really preferred to be going in the other direction, which was probably true. He came to a halt in front of Regan’s desk and stood there, soft-bodied, thick-middled, ill at ease. Regan had never understood how someone as hard and cool as Nola could have such a flabby, spiritless older brother.

‘Are you going to fire me?“ Harris asked, blurting the question out a moment after he entered.

‘I just want to talk to you,“ Regan said. ”Sit down, Sid. Relax. Let’s talk.“ ”About what?“

‘The Board of Directors’ meeting.“ ”I voted for keeping you, didn’t I!“

‘I assume so,“ Regan said. ”For all I know, you were one of the three negative votes, though that’s not too likely. Okay, you voted for me. But you also helped to bring the meeting about in the first place. There wouldn’t have been any special meeting if you hadn’t signed that petition. Sid, why did you sign it?“

‘Your uncle asked me to.“

‘Did my uncle have any call on you? Did he put you on the payroll? Did he give you stock options?“ Regan glared at the soft man. ”I bought you, Sid. Why the hell didn’t you stay bought?“

Harris’ expression was woeful to behold. He showed no indignation at the Factor’s blunt words. Looking vacantly past Regan’s left shoulder, he said hoarsely, “Old man Regan offered me a thousand shares to sign the petition.”

‘That’s better than a hundred thousand bucks,“ Regan said. ”Even at the present deflated price. Not bad. Not bad at all. So of course you accepted.“

‘It was only a meeting,“ Harris said miserably. ”I didn’t actually vote against you, Claude. I just let Bruce use my name on the petition. You wouldn’t get hurt any, and I’d be a hundred grand ahead. It seemed safe.“

‘And if, thanks to you, I had been thrown out of my job by the vote of other people at that meeting-“

‘I didn’t think it would happen.“

‘You didn’t think. You didn’t think.“ Regan scowled at him. ”You let Bruce buy you, and you didn’t think! Sid, you’re a damned idiot! Didn’t you have enough sense to realize that if I go, you’d go? Bruce bought your signature, but he’d fire you the day after I left. He’s got no use for you. The only reason you’re here is that you’re Nola’s brother, and Nola’s my wife, and I’m the top man. That’s all.“

Harris reddened. He shifted uncomfortably.

Regan went on, “You were cutting your own throat by letting Bruce buy you. Couldn’t you see that?”

‘It didn’t look that way to me, Claude,“ Harris said hazily. ”I thought it all through. It couldn’t hurt to take the stock from Bruce and then vote for you. I didn’t just jump into the decision. I talked it all over with Nola first, and-“

‘You what?“ Regan gasped.

‘Talked it all over with Nola. She said I’d be a damned fool not to take the stock.“

Regan’s eyes widened. “She advised you to help Bruce throw me out?”

‘You’ve got to understand, Claude, I was never actually going to vote against you.“

‘Forget that. You talked to Nola, and she told you to go along with Bruce. Jesus. Jesus Everlasting Christ!“

‘Claude-“

‘Get out of here!“ Regan spat savagely.

‘Am I fired?“

‘No,“ Regan said. ”Not yet. You’re still Nola’s brother, and as far as I know I’m keeping you here out of pure nepotism. But I’m not sure anymore. I’m not sure of anything. Go on, Sid. Get out!“

Harris got.

Regan sat stunned at his desk. Nola! That trip to Antarctica with Bruce, and to the Moon with Bennett-what sort of poison had they poured into her ear? She was behind the ouster move, then. She had influenced Harris. And in all probability Harris had planned to vote for the ouster, too, despite his claims to the contrary. He had simply chickened out at the last moment, after Olcott’s switch of vote, because he realized Regan was going to win.

So Nola had angled for the ouster. That was interesting. That was very interesting indeed.

Regan decided to have a long talk with his wife. Not in Denver, though. Secluded surroundings were best.

They would take that vacation on Mars, after all. Right away.