"At any rate," Gorneliev interjected, trying to drag Ternayev back to the subject at hand, "It seems that everything you want is available, after a fashion. Much of the work was done on computers of the time, and you will probably have to design a special computer to operate and translate the software. However, I understand that you made most of your money in the computer industry; you will know better than I what will be required.
"So," he continued, "I cannot provide all you have asked for the fifty million you offered, since few of the items you need belong to the Russian government. Realizing this, I entered into discussions with the two companies involved, and we have come up with a proposal I hope you will find interesting, especially given your interest in air launch.
"Molniya and Energia are both involved in a project called 'Kliper/Parom'. Have you heard of it?
Frank shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir, but I was able to manage only a brief bit of research on the Internet before arriving in Russia. It's not the same as the PTK-NP? Or TKS? Or ACTS?"
Gorneliev shook his head, his expression sad. "No, it is none of those. You have put your finger on one of the major problems with the space program of the Russian Federation. We have too many companies competing for government contracts. It seems as though every week I have someone in here from Energia or Khrunichev, with a new design that is certain to put a man on the moon in a month." He glanced at Ternayev. "I'm sorry, Anton, but it is true."
"No," he continued, "it is none of those. I am given to understand that you do not feel that capsule-style craft are the answer. No, Kliper/Parom involves development of a ship, smaller than the Buran, perhaps to be air launched. It would be launched in two stages. First Parom, the space tug, will be launched. Then the Kliper will be air launched to low-Earth orbit, where it will dock with Parom, and both will continue to the International Space Station or beyond."
Frank nodded. "I think I read about it on the Internet. Are you depending upon the AN-225, or do you have another, larger aircraft in mind?"
Surprisingly, it was Stoltznitz who replied. "We plan to use the AN-225 in the early stages, for testing. But at some point we may have to invest in an even larger aircraft." He shrugged. "We are, of course, working closely with RKK Energia in designing the propulsion systems. At present, we are researching the possibilities of ion propulsion for long-range missions." He dug into a worn-looking briefcase, and retrieved a large stack of papers. Some were obviously brightly-colored sales brochures, and others were covered with formulas and numbers. "This is detailed information on the program," he added.
Gorneliev was frowning, and Frank suspected Stoltznitz had derailed a carefully planned sales job. "Uh, yes," he interrupted. "We have been searching for investment partners to help develop this project, but the response has been, well, disappointing. However, we feel that could change. If the great tycoon Mr. Frank Weatherly was to publicly invest, say, one hundred million U.S. dollars in the project, we suspect others will follow, and the Russian space program will once again make headlines." He sat back in his chair expectantly.
The other shoe had dropped. Frank frowned, deep in thought. He had expected them to raise the price on him; his visible desperation had made that inevitable. The fifty mil had been his starting point. But a hundred million was a lot of money. How much value could he get for his hundred million? Molniya he considered nearly out of the picture. The Burans already existed, and he would be updating them his way. All they had were the engineering and design specs he would need for the updating.
Energia, though! He would need them to be involved almost from the start, especially if, as Ternayev had claimed, the air launch idea would not work. He had not been flattering Ternayev; Energia had the biggest and baddest boosters around. Their involvement would be essential. And Ternayev's enthusiasm would be worth at least a million!
He had no faith in the Kliper/Parom project. It was an obvious government fueled boondoggle, and he was not happy having his name connected with it. On the other hand, it was the only program around that was working on a ship, rather than just a capsule. And who knew? He might even be able to help them develop it into a real spacecraft.
He shuffled the large stack of papers Stoltznitz had provided. "A hundred million U.S. is a lot of money, gentlemen. May I have a few days to look over this information and do some research?"
Gorneliev's usual smile was back. He had delivered the bad news, and he was sure he had Frank hooked. He could afford to be accommodating. "Of course! Of course!" he boomed. "Take the time you need. Just call my secretary to arrange an appointment."
As soon as he cleared the building, Frank called David on his cell phone, and told him that he would be sending a chartered plane to Baikonur to pick him up him and Paul. "Don't expect a luxury barge like the one they sent for me. But I need you here, as soon as possible."
Frank arranged the charter with the help of the hotel staff, and David and Paul arrived the next day.
Frank tossed them Stoltznitz's pile of papers. "Take a look at this stuff. I suspect most of it is propaganda and sales brochures, but there may be enough factual information to form a judgment."
David looked up, puzzled. "This is about the Kliper project. I thought that ended in '06 or '07."
"Well," Frank replied, "It did, and it didn't. The Russians stopped development of it for money reasons, and they weren't able to get funding from anyone else. But technically, it was just 'suspended'. Their latest project, the PTK-NP, doesn't look like it's going anywhere, either. Khrunichev has pretty much absorbed most of the Russian space industry, and Molniya and Energia badly need a success. That's why they've dug up this strictly Russian, Molniya/Energia project.
"The deal I'm being offered involves investing a hundred million in the Kliper/Parom project, and letting them use that fact to get other investors."
David whistled. "A hundred million? Could you even do it if you wanted?"
David smiled. "Yes. I'll have to switch some investments around, but I could do it. Actually, my first offer was fifty million in cash. No, it isn't the price that concerns me. It's the fact that my name will be used to sell it. I want to know that the damned thing has at least a reasonable chance of succeeding if they find the money."
David shook his head. "A hundred million dollars. You know, I hadn't really been thinking about how much this was all going to cost. A hundred million, and we won't even have a spacecraft." He gave Frank a hard look. "This little adventure is going to break you, isn't it?"
Frank shrugged. "Very likely. But broke doesn't scare me. I've been broke before. And if it works . . . if it works, I could end up even richer than I am right now. Don't let money scare you. It's just the way you keep score. My fortune long ago reached the takeoff point. It would be almost impossible for me to spend my money faster than it comes in, unless I do something stupid, like spend two or three billion dollars as though I were a government. My estimated budget for this project is three billion dollars. Since I'm only worth a little over four billion, that doesn't leave much room for error. A hundred million is close to what I estimated to get the Burans and the data. But I included the boosters in that figure, and I expect they are going to end up costing a few million more. And, of course, this is just the first step. If this works out, I'll be heading for Brazil and India. We need a launch site.
David grimaced. "Okay, India has a space program, of sorts. But Brazil?"
Frank shrugged. "I'll explain it later."
"Anyway," he continued, "You forget about the big numbers. You're the guys I'm counting on for the science, not the finance. Right now I need to know whether this is a fiasco that will ruin my reputation."