Regan’s aides were a little troubled by the visit of the Brazilians. “Suppose they break the contract?” Lyle Henderson suggested. “Suppose they just quit dead rather than take further losses?”
‘It would mean the end of the Brazilian space industry,“ Regan said. ”They wouldn’t get another contract from anybody, and they know it. Besides, we’d sue them for umpty-ump billion at the World Court.“
‘And if they simply go bankrupt?“ Henderson asked, his long face somber.
‘You gloomy bastard! Do you think they’re likely to go bankrupt? Would General Motors go bankrupt? DuPont? Global Factors?“
‘A two-billion dollar loss-“
‘They’ve got a subsidy from their government,“ Regan said. ”They won’t fold up. Listen, stop feeling so sorry for them. What they’re getting on publicity for this job will more than pay them back for out-of-pocket losses. They’ll make out all right.“
That was a typical big crisis-something that threatened the success of the entire enterprise. The small crises were more frequent, and less harrowing. But they could be troublesome, too.
There was, for example, the visit of a gray-haired, gray-eyed gentleman who identified himself as Thorkell Thorvald-son, a businessman of Reykjavik. Mr. Thorvaldson arrived in Regan’s office with a letter of introduction from the Icelandic Ambassador to the United Nations, and, although Iceland was not expected to have a pavilion at the World’s Fair, it seemed to Regan that the least he could do was give the gentleman a few minutes of his time.
Thorkell Thorvaldson had come, it developed, to do some special pleading for countrymen of his.
‘I represent a substantial body of opinion in Iceland,“ Thorvaldson said in lilting, agreeable-sounding English. ”We are eager to have a long-standing injustice undone. You plan this World’s Fair to honor Columbus’ discovery of America. But, as is well known, Columbus did not discover America. He was quite late for that.“
Regan briefly closed his eyes. Another crank, he thought!
He had been through Hoei-Shin’s voyage to Fusang with Chairman Ch’ien, and he had heard of Columbus’ Jewish ancestry as expounded by the Emir Talal. And now…
‘Yes,“ Regan said politely, ”I’m aware of the stories of Leif Ericsson. It seems to me that there’s a certain amount of justice there, but-“
‘You misundersand,“ Thorvaldson said. ”Leif Ericsson preceded Columbus, yes. But he was by no means the first discoverer of the Americas.“
‘No?“
‘No. May I offer these documents? This is an account of the voyage of Ari Marson from Iceland to North America, a.d. 982. Here is the chronicle of Ari. ’He was driven by a tempest to Hvitramannaland, which some call Great Ireland; it lies to the west in the sea, near to Vinland the Good, and six days’ sailing west from Ireland.‘ I offer here the account of Bjarni Herjulfsson, who in the year 986 set out from Iceland to Greenland, but was blown off course and reached your Cape Cod. Then, of course, there is the familiar tale of Leif Ericsson, also a settler in New England, who in the year 1003-“
Very gently, Regan interrupted. “Mr. Thorvaldson?” “Yes, Factor?”
‘I know the Vikings are supposed to have discovered America. The Chinese have made an earlier claim. A Buddhist priest named Hoei-Shin, in 499 a.d.-“
‘Undocumented, Mr. Factor. A total fabrication. I have gone into this very carefully, and I can tell you plainly that the Chinese did not reach North or South or even Central America. Perhaps they reached the Philippines, or Hawaii, but not the Americas!“
‘All right, then. The Vikings-“
‘Are the first documented discoverers. See, read these, Mr. Factor! They give you proof.“ ”But what am I supposed to do?“
‘Perhaps give these discoveries some official recognition in your World’s Fair,“ Thorvaldson suggested hopefully. ”1992 is the one thousand and tenth anniversary of Ari Marson’s voyage to the New World. Perhaps the Fair could be renamed so as to honor Ari Marson, instead of-“
‘We customarily hold these celebrations to honor a round-figured anniversary, Mr. Thorvaldson. Since we’re ten years too late for Ari Marson, it’s probably better to honor Columbus instead.“
‘But not as discoverer! Not as discoverer! Rediscoverer, Mr. Factor. That must be stressed in your official propaganda. Rediscoverer!“
The descendant of the Vikings grew red in the face. He slapped the sheaf of documents on Regan’s desk and repeated his theories several times, more insistently each time. He grew confused, lapsed occasionally into Icelandic, or what Regan assumed was Icelandic.
Regan buzzed for help. Lyle Henderson appeared and tactfully escorted Thorvaldson out, murmuring reassuring things and getting replied to with thick staccato bursts of Norse. When he was gone, Regan gathered up the sheaf of impressive-looking documents the Icelander had given him, and called in a young, diligent member of his public-relations staff.
‘Jim, take these things and read them through carefully. Then get hold of all the literature on pre-Columbian discoveries of America. Saint Whatsis, and the Welsh prince, and Leif Ericsson, and the Chinese, and all the rest. Do up a brochure on the subject. A nice thick press release in which we study the claims of all the others and simultaneously conclude, a) that every pre-Columbian claimant has a great deal of merit worth noting, and b) Columbus still discovered America. Can you do that?“
‘I’ll give it a try, Factor Regan.“
‘Give it a damned good try. And get copies off to all the libraries, the newsfax sheets, the American consulate in Iceland, and anybody else you think deserves one. From now on I don’t want to hear any more on the subject. It’s your baby, all the way.“
The Fair was moving along. The sheer size of the operation was beginning to arouse fascination, even among those who were originally opposed to the whole idea. It confirmed a long-standing belief of Regan’s, to the effect that the difference between a crackpot and a genius is simply a failure on the crackpot’s part to think big. A crackpot, faced with the need to find a site for a World’s Fair in a hurry, might suggest a floating island in the Atlantic. A genius would toss the whole Fair into a sky-high orbit-and then make- it happen.
With things going more smoothly at the Washington headquarters, Regan could afford to devote a little more time to the activities of Global Factors, Inc.-and even to think a bit about the vacation Nola had half-committed him to taking on Mars.
There was some unfinished business in Denver, having to do with the loyalty of certain members of the corporation’s Board of Directors. Regan took no action for several weeks after the vote that had confirmed him in control of the company. But finally he decided to have face-to-face chats with Messrs. Olcott and Harris.
He sent for Olcott first.
The wiry comptroller looked unworried. “I’ve been expecting this meeting for some time now, Factor.”
‘Oh?“
‘You want to talk to me about that Board of Directors’ meeting, I suppose.“
‘You suppose correctly.“ Regan rose, paced around his vast office, turned to confront the other. ”Olcott, you were part of the group that voted to hold the meeting. Obviously you were eager to have me removed as Chief Executive Officer.“
‘No, sir.“
‘No?“
Olcott said, “I was anxious to have the issues aired. I don’t mind telling you I was seriously worried about the company’s finances. That bond issue-”
‘Yes, I knew. It horrifies you to think of how many billions we’ve tied up speculatively at a three percent yield.“
‘Yes, sir. It does horrify me. Or it did. I wanted to hear how you could justify it. So when your uncle came to me and solicited my support for the special meeting. I signed the petition.“
‘You thought I was leading the company down the road to ruin,“ Regan said. ”Eh?“
Olcott did not smile. “I’m afraid I did, Factor Regan.”