"It sounds great, Anton, but if it's like most Russian designs, all that exists is some drawings and a few propaganda booklets for the politicians. How long would it take to develop this thing?"
Anton's tone turned to embarrassment. "Two or three years to a prototype."
"Well," Frank said, "write it up as a grant proposal and submit it to MHI. It's right up our alley, and the grant committee doesn't care how large or small the company is. But I need something now," he continued. "Who's ahead in the battle?"
"It's a tossup between the updaters and the Vulkan people. But the originals are hanging in there, talking about how fast they can get it into production. The Energia II is far behind."
"Well," Frank asked, "how fast can they get it into production? Frankly, I'd like that Vulkan version. 175 tons appeals to me, too. How much longer would that version take?"
Anton hesitated. "Well, you understand that Vulkan was never flown. But it's actually just a modification of the original. I think we're looking at six months to get the original into production, and six to nine months for the Vulkan; after all, it's just a modification of the modification, and most of the changes can be made during assembly."
"Okay, Anton," Frank replied. "Suppose I threw some money at it? The Kliper project is taking off. I can sell some of my stock, and move it to the Vulkan program. I can't sell it all. It would cause a panic and crash the whole program. But I think I can pull fifty million out without hurting anything.
"How about this," he continued. "Offer them a challenge. I'll invest fifty million in the Vulkan program in exchange for a promise to deliver the first one in six months."
"Uh, Frank," Anton said, "I'm not sure we can make a six month deadline. I don't know the condition of some of that tooling."
"I know," Frank replied, "but it'll give them a hard and fast target. Make the offer, and see what they say."
"Okay, Frank. I'll put it up to them. I'll call you tomorrow."
As promised, he called Frank the next day. "They'll go for it, but a couple of them are worried about you pulling fifty million out of Kliper. That's our program too, you know.
Frank laughed. "Of course I know. But there's a big secondary market in Kliper shares now. That's where I'll sell them. They'll never notice; they're just changing one investor for another."
"Well," Anton replied, "They're going to go for it. They say they'll start work as soon as they receive the money. But actually, I've already sent crews out to bring in all that tooling, and there's a big crew cleaning out the assembly building. As we speak, engineers are blowing the dust off blueprints, and technicians are translating them into computer programs. If the tooling isn't too bad, we might even make your deadline."
All over the world, a surge in interest and investment in space was occurring. Space-X had launched their Falcon Heavy to great fanfare, and was scrambling to get it man-rated. The Japanese were shelving their development of capsules for delivery of supplies to the International Space Station, and had begun work on what they were calling "the Mars ship." Emphasis in the Kliper/Parom program had shifted; it was no longer a "space tug." Now it was an "interplanetary exploration vehicle," with the "Space Train" idea given prominent billing. ESA was loudly trumpeting the fact that their big Ariane 5 was man-rated, and that they would be happy to contract to launch manned capsules and ships from the now-man-rated Kourou launch site.
In Russia, government pressure had been increased on Khrunichev to complete development of the Angara family of launchers, a "follow on" to the Ukrainian Zenit. This was to be a purely a Russian product that could be launched from their new far-eastern cosmodrome at Vostochny. Since funding had accompanied the pressure, Khrunichev was working frantically on the project.
In the U.S., there were loud voices in Congress demanding to know why they were retiring the shuttle just as Man's Hope International was using a similar design so effectively. Of course, they ignored the fact that the congress itself had been cutting NASA's budget for over twenty years. And that the youngest Shuttle had been over twenty years old and flown repeatedly.
NASA had dusted off some of the decades-old plans for spacecraft to expand on the Shuttle concept, plans that had been quietly shelved years ago in the face of budget cuts. Now, NASA officials were testifying in congressional hearings that they had several designs that merited further development, if congress could provide the money. They maintained that it would be uneconomical to restart production of the huge Saturn V booster, and that the money would be better spent developing a new, state-of-the-art booster. Space-X executives were quick to assert that the Falcon Heavy could be configured to launch a Shuttle-style vehicle. Frank made a mental note that they might be able to sell NASA a few Vulkans in a year or so.
The L-5 Society was a moribund organization that advocated establishment of space habitats at the L-4 and L-5 Lagrange points. These were the "stable" Lagrange points, 60 degrees ahead and behind the Earth in its orbit. Objects placed into orbit at these points would stay there without any input of additional energy. To survive, the L-5 Society had merged with the National Space Society, an organization devoted to the larger ideal of space colonization in general.
They suddenly found themselves a very popular organization. Contributions were pouring in, as were increasingly fantastic proposals. They were now soliciting donations to return the huge asteroid 243Ida, to form the nucleus of a colony at L-4 or L-5
Their largest problem, of course, was that the only true space ships in existence belonged to Frank.
Man's Hope International was also now one of the wealthiest nonprofits in the world, and Frank was continually on the lookout for space-related projects or ideas that could benefit from an injection of cash. Another Proton-M supply launch was being readied, and would be launched in a week, from Alcântara.
Meanwhile, Space International was being flooded with requests to schedule launches using the Proton-M from Alcântara. Space Launch International, Frank's Khrunichev partner, confirmed that bookings for Proton-M launches from Baikonur were falling off, since Alcântara's position on the equator permitted heavier payloads on the same boosters.
Since Frank was on the Board of Directors of both MHI and Space International, there was no doubt they would make the deal for the Buran sale, but Frank wanted to make very sure that the deal was fair to both parties. He now had plenty of enemies with sharp lawyers looking over his shoulder, watching his every move. As it was, he expected at least a dozen lawsuits as a result of his Buran purchase.
The purchase was completed, though, and Space International's crew had begun the updating work that was becoming routine.
It appeared there was a lot of resentment of his profit-making activities. For some reason, people seemed to have assumed that he had been simply throwing away his billions in a burst of philanthropy, and they were angered by the fact that he hoped to earn back his investment.
Frank had already been accused of "looting" Man's Hope International, as well as of setting it up as a bogus nonprofit for his own benefit.
Many seemed particularly angry that he had been soliciting contributions for MHI. They seemed to think that MHI's contributions went directly to Frank.
The UN had already sent auditors to check MHI's books, as was their right under the UN charter Frank had obtained. The auditors went away impressed with the organization's accounting and bookkeeping, but without any evidence of wrongdoing.