Susan frowned. "Maybe. That's why you need that international law specialist. You do understand that as soon as some smart guy realizes that, the UN will be declaring that no individual can own a celestial body. They'll declare it a UN resource, appoint smart boy in charge, say 'thank you', and kick your butt off it."
Frank answered her frown with one of his own. "Believe it or not, I hadn't really thought of that. To be honest, I never really thought of this project in terms of profit and loss. I just thought about the benefits to mankind."
Susan looked exasperated. "That's the problem with you and this project. You're not thinking of it as a business deal, you're thinking of it as charity, a gift to mankind. Well, you're mankind, too. Get your mind on business, Frank. Aren't you the one who always said you didn't trust altruism?"
"Yeah." His grin was rueful. "I always said when someone claims they're not going to profit from something, look out. They've hidden it somewhere in the fine print. And now I've been running around throwing money around and saying the same things. No wonder the President of Brazil didn't trust me. Hell, I wouldn't trust me, either."
He got up and walked around to Susan. Taking her in his arms, he said, "Darling, thank you. I've been in this damned altruistic, philanthropic haze ever since David showed up in the Philippines." He gave her a big hug, and then stepped away.
"All right," he said briskly. "Frank Weatherly is back in the game, and we've got a lot to do.
"First, get us out of here. I want to be back in Brazil as quickly as possible. Second, I've got to figure out how I can get Brazil to renegotiate that contract. Right now, it's a damned giveaway. Stupidest damned thing I've ever done.
"Next, find me the most successful fund raising outfit in the damned world. We're going after the money to launch Man's Dream.
"Next, I need the best public relations firm we can get on the job. Dolf has been doing a great job of selling me as some kind of hero. But he's got other things to do, and I want a specialist on the job.
"Next, call Fred and tell him that that international law specialist will have to be willing to relocate to Brazil. Man's Hope International is going to need a headquarters, and we've got friends in the government there."
Susan's face was lit by the biggest smile he'd ever seen. "Yes, sir! Welcome back, Mr. Weatherly! Uh, Why not set up the headquarters in America? You're safe there, now."
He shook his head firmly. "No. Oh, we'll have an office in new York, of course, and maybe one in Chicago or San Francisco. But the same old objection applies. I don't want Man's Hope to become identified as an American company. The less U.S. involvement the better, at least for a while." He looked at her sternly. "So, when does our plane leave? We aren't packed yet?"
"Almost, sir," Susan replied, still wearing that huge grin. "I'll get right on those things. I'll also tell Jaymo his water problem seems to be fixed, and he can start booking guests again."
"Good idea. Oh," he continued, "and move that public relations outfit to near the top of that list. I've got a feeling I'm going to be meeting with the President of the Russian Federation in a week or so, and we want to make the most of it. Ask if they can send a representative to Brasilia, one with the authority to sign a million-dollar contract."
"Yes, sir," Susan replied. "I'll try to call them before we even leave here."
Frank frowned. "Well, make sure you use the anonymous proxies for those phone calls. Maybe the U.S. government isn't after me anymore, but you can bet the media and the grifters are."
Four hours later, Frank and Susan were on their way from the Philippines to Hong Kong for a flight to Los Angeles, to connect with a charter flight to Brasilia. Frank hated to be going through a U.S. airport, especially LAX. But in the event, it was no problem.
Homeland Security had evidently passed the "hands off" message to TSA. They were whisked through Customs with barely a slowdown. A man was standing just outside the security cordon near the baggage carousel, wearing a jacket with the large logo, "Canfield Charters," and a sign bearing Frank's name. They claimed their luggage and met him at the door. "This way, sir." The man said. He asked to see Frank's ID, so he would be sure he had the right customer, and then loaded them and their baggage into a van. They drove around the airport perimeter for some fifteen minutes before pulling up alongside a hangar where a large business jet was warming up. Frank and Susan went into the office to complete the contract, while the driver loaded their baggage aboard the plane. Then, they simply went out and boarded. In all, less than two hours on the ground, surely a record for LAX!
It had been two very long flights, but they arrived in Brasilia wide-awake and ready for business. First class on the Hong-Kong to LAX flight had been comfortable, and the attendants attentive. They had napped, and read magazines and books on their tablets.
The charter flight was even more comfortable. Two flight attendants catered to their every wish, and the executive jet was plush and comfortable. They could even stretch out and lie down. They reached Brasilia well rested, and happy to be back.
Chapter 11
They had called ahead, so Gilberto Almendes was expecting them. As Frank had requested, Joao Bernardez was also present, representing the Ministry of Development, Industry, and Trade. Both men rose to greet them, real pleasure lighting their faces. "Senhor Weatherly! Senhorita Andrews!" Almendes said heartily, "Welcome back to Brazil! I am very happy that you were able to get your problem with America solved. They have also stopped their harassment of Brazil, though I doubt that will do much good. I understand that trade with the U.S. will never again reach its previous level. I think they, how do you say, 'shoot themselves in the foot?'"
"That is true," Joao added. "Frank, you reactionary Yankee imperialist! I thought we were rid of you."
Joao was also standing. Frank grinned. "Oh Wow, you lousy, red, commie, pinko, fellow traveler! They haven't locked you up as an enemy of the state, yet?"
The two men grinned, and their handshake turned into a hug.
Finally, they all sat down around the table in Almendes' office. "Okay, Frank," Joao said. Did you come back to give us some more of your billions?"
Frank smiled. "No billions left to give. I'm down to a few million."
Joao rolled his eyes. "Poverty! Why, next you'll want to get onto the Welfare rolls!"
"It's not quite that bad, Joao. But we do need to talk some business." The others settled back as Frank began to speak.
"While I was in hiding, I realized that my project was about to enter an entire new phase, and that we would need to renegotiate our contract."
Almendes' eyebrows rose, but Joao's face turned expressionless.
Frank waved a dismissing hand. "Oh, I don't mean I'll be trying to renege on our present contract. After all, the property in question is in your country. It's not like I could pack it up and move it. But as I said, we're moving into a whole new phase here; a business phase. I wanted to discuss it with you immediately, so that you would have time to consider my offer.
"Our current contract has Brazil, specifically the Brazilian Space Agency, assuming ownership of the Man's Hope International launch pad. However, the timing of that assumption is vague. Basically, it is to happen if and when the mission is complete, or its failure is known. That could be as much as several years.
"Now it appears that we may be able to launch a second spacecraft. The Russians have located another of the original Energia boosters, and are offering it to me. If I wished, I could consider that part of the original mission, and add several years to its length. Besides that, I understand that inquiries have been coming in asking about heavy-load launches from Alcântara. I assume you have had to tactfully refuse those inquiries, because you won't have control of the launch pad."