that. Anything the government can do, private business can do in half the time for a quarter of the money, at double the quality."
Now Debra raised an eyebrow.
"So says the overly optimistic businessman," she said, an edge of sarcasm in her voice.
"Look, do you want this project to get off the drawing board or not?" Groomer asked. "Because I'm not here to argue politics with you."
Debra looked at him, and the lines at the corners of his brown eyes. Her father had also had those lines. They were the lines of a man used to smiling. They gave Groomer a warm, almost spritely quality.
"Yes," she said. "I do."
"Great," Groomer said, "then cancel your flight back to California. We're going to get started right away."
His hand thrust out towards her, and for the second time that morning, Debra felt his firm grip on her palm.
Groomer hadn't been kidding.
What might have taken years of protracted federal agency planning, Groomer's corporate enterprise accomplished in months. Ironically, Groomer's people contracted hardware and software from many of the same companies that had rejected Debra's fusion thruster design in the first place. But as long as Groomer's money was good, they were suddenly all for it: no risk for them, they were merely building the parts and putting them into space.
Within a year, the frame of the spaceship
Determination
was being constructed in Earth orbit, using the original International Space Station as scaffolding. And already, Groomer's reality television producers were milking the project for ratings. The word had gone out like a media bomb:
Daring media mogul to attempt impossible with Hail Mary voyage to the outer solar system; all of humanity invited for a ringside seat.
The broadcasts from the assembly sessions at the ISS weren't precisely American Idol, but the producers were slick with their craft, and the ratings--while starting out modestly--crept up the charts, week by week.
For her own part, Debra was immersed in the nuts-and-bolts construction plans for her thruster. The modules and other components for the
Determination
were off-the-shelf, and Russian rockets were fairly cheap. But the thruster . . . that was the key item, and something which had never been used in space before, much less on the ground. It relied on a specialized three-stage process that Debra had innovated as a graduate student. And while the fuel tanks and other items might have been fairly standard equipment, the reactor itself was not.
The day they shot the reactor core into orbit, Debra was a nervous wreck. Groomer joined her at the rail to the walkway near the Russian launch site he had rented for the project's use.
"If it blows up, we'll just build another one," he said, running a hand along Debra's shoulder to reassure her.
"This single reactor core cost as much as all the money yet spent on the whole show to date," she said. "Even you don't have bottomless pockets."
"True," he said. "But the thing is turning into a hit now. Advertising dollars are rolling in. We've been contacted by fast food chains, sports stores, pharmaceutical companies, soda manufacturers, and everyone else who wants to donate goods or services to my grand, new space effort."
"You mean," Debra said dryly, "they want to get their products in front of the cameras for some free advertising."
"Didn't I just say that?" Groomer said, grinning.
Debra shook her head, a frown on her face.
"Look," Groomer said, "I know you think it's uncouth for a bunch of logos to hijack the 'dignity' of your mission, but how the hell else is anyone supposed to make this work? You said, back when you pitched the project to me, that commerce in the service of exploration is one of the great forces of history. Well, here we are again. Columbus and his men wanted a faster route for the spice trade. Families rolled west in wagons, looking for farmland and gold. We're going to Jupiter because nobody ever has before, and we're doing it without having to beg for
Now Debra raised an eyebrow.
"So says the overly optimistic businessman," she said, an edge of sarcasm in her voice.
"Look, do you want this project to get off the drawing board or not?" Groomer asked. "Because I'm not here to argue politics with you."
Debra looked at him, and the lines at the corners of his brown eyes. Her father had also had those lines. They were the lines of a man used to smiling. They gave Groomer a warm, almost spritely quality.
"Yes," she said. "I do."
"Great," Groomer said, "then cancel your flight back to California. We're going to get started right away."
His hand thrust out towards her, and for the second time that morning, Debra felt his firm grip on her palm.
Groomer hadn't been kidding.
What might have taken years of protracted federal agency planning, Groomer's corporate enterprise accomplished in months. Ironically, Groomer's people contracted hardware and software from many of the same companies that had rejected Debra's fusion thruster design in the first place. But as long as Groomer's money was good, they were suddenly all for it: no risk for them, they were merely building the parts and putting them into space.
Within a year, the frame of the spaceship
Determination
was being constructed in Earth orbit, using the original International Space Station as scaffolding. And already, Groomer's reality television producers were milking the project for ratings. The word had gone out like a media bomb:
Daring media mogul to attempt impossible with Hail Mary voyage to the outer solar system; all of humanity invited for a ringside seat.
The broadcasts from the assembly sessions at the ISS weren't precisely American Idol, but the producers were slick with their craft, and the ratings--while starting out modestly--crept up the charts, week by week.
For her own part, Debra was immersed in the nuts-and-bolts construction plans for her thruster. The modules and other components for the
Determination
were off-the-shelf, and Russian rockets were fairly cheap. But the thruster . . . that was the key item, and something which had never been used in space before, much less on the ground. It relied on a specialized three-stage process that Debra had innovated as a graduate student. And while the fuel tanks and other items might have been fairly standard equipment, the reactor itself was not.
The day they shot the reactor core into orbit, Debra was a nervous wreck. Groomer joined her at the rail to the walkway near the Russian launch site he had rented for the project's use.
"If it blows up, we'll just build another one," he said, running a hand along Debra's shoulder to reassure her.
"This single reactor core cost as much as all the money yet spent on the whole show to date," she said. "Even you don't have bottomless pockets."
"True," he said. "But the thing is turning into a hit now. Advertising dollars are rolling in. We've been contacted by fast food chains, sports stores, pharmaceutical companies, soda manufacturers, and everyone else who wants to donate goods or services to my grand, new space effort."
"You mean," Debra said dryly, "they want to get their products in front of the cameras for some free advertising."
"Didn't I just say that?" Groomer said, grinning.
Debra shook her head, a frown on her face.
"Look," Groomer said, "I know you think it's uncouth for a bunch of logos to hijack the 'dignity' of your mission, but how the hell else is anyone supposed to make this work? You said, back when you pitched the project to me, that commerce in the service of exploration is one of the great forces of history. Well, here we are again. Columbus and his men wanted a faster route for the spice trade. Families rolled west in wagons, looking for farmland and gold. We're going to Jupiter because nobody ever has before, and we're doing it without having to beg for
Similar Books
