The Precipice

LA GUAIRA

Martin Humphries looked irked. “What’s so funny about the Asteroid Belt?”

Dan shook his head. “Not funny, really. Just… I didn’t expect that from you.

You’ve got a reputation for being a hard-headed businessman.”

“I’d like to believe that I am,” Humphries said.

“Then forget about the Belt,” Dan snapped. “Been there, done that. It’s too far away, the costs would outweigh the profits by a ton.”

“It’s been done,” Humphries insisted.

“Once,” said Dan. “By that nutcase Gunn. And he damned near got himself killed doing it.”

“But that one asteroid was worth close to a trillion dollars once he got it into lunar orbit.”

“Yeah, and the double-damned GEC took control of it and bankrupted Gunn.”

“That won’t happen this time.”

“Why not? You don’t think the GEC would seize any resources we bring to Earth? That’s the reason the Global Economic Council was created — to control the whole twirling Earth’s international trade.”

Humphries smiled coldly. “I can handle the GEC. Trust me on that one.” Dan stared at the younger man for a long, hard moment. Finally he shook his head and replied, “It doesn’t matter. I’d even be willing to let the GEC run the show.”

“You would?”

“Hell yes. We’re in a global emergency now. Somebody has to allocate resources, control prices, see to it that nobody takes advantage of this crisis to line his own pockets.”

“I suppose so,” Humphries said slowly. “Still, I’m convinced there’s a lot of money to be made by mining the Belt.”

Nodding, Dan agreed, “There’s a lot of resources out there, that’s for sure. Heavy metals, organics, resources we can’t get from the Moon.”

“Resources that the Earth needs, and the GEC would be willing to pay for.”

“Mining the asteroids,” Dan mused. “That’s a major undertaking. A major undertaking.”

“That’s why I’m here. Astro Manufacturing has the resources to do it”

“Astro Manufacturing is just about broke and you know it.”

“I wasn’t talking about financial resources,” Humphries said, waving a hand in the air almost carelessly.

“Oh no?”

“No.” Pointing a finger toward the window and the storm-battered launch facility outside, Humphries said, “You’ve got the technological know-how, the teams of trained personnel, the rockets and infrastructure to get us into space.”

“And it’s bleeding me white because there’s less and less of a market for launch services. Nobody can afford to buy electronics manufactured on the Moon, not when they’re being driven from their homes by floods and earthquakes.” Humphries’s brows rose questioningly.

“I know, I know,” Dan said. “There’s the energy market. Sure. But how many solar-power satellites can we park in orbit? The double-damned GEC just put a cap on them. We’re building the next-to-last one now. After those two, no more powersats.”

Before Humphries could ask why, Dan continued, “The goddamned Greater Asia Power Consortium complained about the powersats undercutting their prices. And the double-damned Europeans sided with them. Serve ’em all right if they freeze their asses off when the Gulf Stream breaks up.”

“The Gulf Stream?” Humphries looked startled.

Dan nodded unhappily. “That’s one of the projections. The greenhouse warming is already changing ocean currents. When the Gulf Stream breaks up, Europe goes into the deep freeze; England’s weather will be the same as Labrador’s.”

“When? How soon?”

“Twenty years, maybe. Maybe a hundred. Ask five different scientists and you get twelve different answers.”

“That’s a real opportunity,” Humphries said excitedly. “Winterizing all of Europe.

Think of it! What an opportunity!”

“Funny,” Dan retorted. “I was thinking of it as a disaster.”

“You see the glass half empty. To me, it’s half full.”

Dan had a sudden urge to throw this young opportunist out of his office. Instead, he slumped back in his chair and muttered, “It’s like a sick Greek tragedy. Global warming is going to put Europe in the deep-freezer. Talk about ironic.”

“We were talking about the energy market,” Humphries said, regaining his composure. “What about the lunar helium-three?”

Dan wondered if his visitor was merely trying to pump him. Warily, he answered, “Barely holding its own. There’s not that many fusion power plants up and running yet — thanks to the kneejerk anti-nuke idiots. And digging helium-three out of the lunar regolith ain’t cheap. Fifty parts per million sounds good to a chemist, maybe, but it doesn’t lead to a high profit ratio, let me tell you.”

“So you’d need an injection of capital to start mining the asteroids,” Humphries said.

“A transfusion,” Dan grumbled.

“That can be done.”

Dan felt his brows hike up. “Really?”

“I can provide the capital,” Humphries said, matter-of-factly.

“We’re talking forty, fifty billion, at least.”

Humphries waved a hand, as if brushing away an annoyance. “You wouldn’t need that much for a demonstration flight.”

“Even a one-shot demo flight would cost a couple bill,” Dan said.

“Probably.”

“Where are you going to get that kind of money? Nobody’s willing to talk to me about investing in Astro.”

“There are people who’d be willing to invest that kind of money in developing the asteroid market.”

For an instant Dan felt a surge of hope. It could work! Open up the Asteroid Belt. Bring those resources to Earth’s needy people. Then the cost figures flashed into his mind again, as implacable as Newton’s laws of motion. “You know,” he said wearily, “if we could just cover our own costs I’d be willing to try it.”

Humphries looked disappointed. “Just cover your own costs?”

“Damned right. People need those resources. If we could get them without driving ourselves into bankruptcy, I’d go to double-damned Pluto if I had to!” Relaxing visibly, Humphries said, “I know how we can do it and make a healthy profit, besides.”

Despite himself, Dan felt intrigued. “How?”

“Fusion rockets.”

By the seven cities of Cibola, Dan thought, this guy’s a fanatic. Worse: he’s an enthusiast.

“Nobody’s made a fusion rocket,” he said to Humphries. “Fusion power generators are too big and heavy for flight applications. Everybody knows that.” With the grin of a cat that had just finished dining on several canaries, Humphries replied, “Everybody’s wrong.”

Dan thought it over for all of half a second, then leaned both his hands on his desktop, palms down, and said, “Prove it to me.”

Wordlessly, Humphries fished a data chip from his jacket pocket and handed it to Dan.