The Fair needed cash in the worst way!
Regan detached a member of his Global Factors staff, an angular, gaunt young man named Lyle Henderson who was an expert on handling newly emerged nations, and sent him off to Brasilia to plant the seeds.
‘Remember, there’s a quid pro quo,“ Regan pointed out. ”We’d like them to build the satellite for us-but we wouldn’t mind a contribution to our general expense fund.“
‘That’s bribery, isn’t it?“ Henderson asked.
‘You might call it that,“ admitted Regan casually. ”If you had to call it anything.“
While waiting for Henderson’s return from Brazil, Regan opened the regular competitive-bidding channels for the job. Not all the aerospace companies cared to bid. Some were shrewd enough to realize they were likely to lose their shirts on the project; others simply did not care to undertake the necessary expansion of plant for a one-shot enterprise. There were five bids from American corporations, ranging from a low of three billion dollars to a high of nineteen billion.
The high bid had come from Global Factors’ own aerospace company. Regan had taken care that his own firm would not be likely to get the job.
Henderson came back three days later, and went straight to Regan’s Washington office.
‘They’re interested,“ Henderson said.
‘At what price?“
‘They think they can do it for about four and a half billion, Factor Regan. Say, a billion as a binder and construction money, the rest in six-month installments as they go along. They’ll undertake to pay a billion-dollar penalty if they aren’t ready on time.“
‘Can they do it in sixteen months?“
‘I think they can,“ Henderson said. ”I talked with Moeller himself-right at the top. He’s very excited about it. He thinks it’ll be a big boost for Brazil’s space prestige.“
Regan nodded. “So it will.”
Henderson looked a little troubled. “Chief-”
‘Mmm?“
‘I thought the idea of this Fair was to boost American prestige.“
‘It is.“
‘So why are we letting the Brazilians build our satellite for us?“
Regan smiled. “Because they’re going to lose two billion bucks building it, which will knock a giant hole in their space program, prestige or no prestige. Also because I’m interested in establishing friendly relations with Aero do Brasil as a matter of our own company policy. Also because I’d rather give the job to them than to any of our own domestic competitors, and for policy reasons I can’t give the job to us. Okay?”
‘Yes, sir.“
‘You think I’m a conniving Machiavellian scoundrel, don’t you, Lyle?“
‘Sir, I-“
‘It’s all right, Lyle. Sometimes I think so too.“
There was a troublesome aspect, though, to giving Aero do Brasil the construction contract. Regan needed money to get the Fair moving, and he expected to get some of that money from the Congress of the United States. But Congress was as penny-wise as ever. If he first announced the letting of the contract to Brazil, and then went before Congress to seek a grant, someone was bound to point out that Federal aid to the Fair was essentially a direct grant to subsidize the Brazilian aerospace industry. And that would make no sense to Congress. Why subsidize your most powerful competitor?
Regan had to get the money from Congress first, let the contract afterward. But Congress could deliberate for weeks or even months over the appropriation. And Regan didn’t have weeks or months to waste. Days and hours were vital now.
The House Appropriations Committee convened to listen to Regan on a blisteringly hot day near the end of August It was an election year; Congress was in a hurry to go home. But Regan needed the appropriation first.
The chairman of the committee was Representative Lancaster of Alabama, gray of eye and long in the tooth. He had been in the House for forty years, and liked to maunder on about the old days when he and Jack Kennedy were Congressmen together. Kennedy had moved on, to the Senate and then to the White House, but Lancaster was still there, grimly guarding the nation’s pursestrings.
‘Mr. Regan,“ he began testily-pointedly overlooking the recent fashion of styling a Factor by his title-”Mr. Regan, how much would you say this World’s Fair is going to cost the people of the United States?“
‘The overall cost of the Fair will be on the order of fifty billion dollars,“ Regan said. ”A great deal of this expense will be borne by the participating nations, of course, and those corporations that wish to exhibit. But there will have to be an initial appropriation from the Federal Government, to get the ball rolling.“
‘Exactly, Mr. Regan. Now, how much are you asking for?“
‘President Hammond has requested four billion dollars,“ Regan said.
Several committee members exchanged glances. Two of them laughed. Chairman Lancaster opined that the Fair was basically a frivolity, and that four billion dollars was a lot of money to spend on a frivolity. Regan launched into a discussion of the prestige value of the exposition. Representative Hawes of Texas politely expressed his doubts. Representative Slabaugh of Mississippi called the committee’s attention to the fact that the national debt stood just shy of a trillion dollars, and would the money not be better employed in reduction of the debt? Representative Morton of Alaska, a stern antitrust man who had led the losing fight against repeal of the Clayton and Sherman Acts in ‘74, asked a few discerning questions about the role Global Factors, Inc. would play in the construction and operation of the World’s Fair.
The session was a grueling one, but Regan was accustomed to pressure. He parried the low blows, deflected the true ones, riposted where he could, and returned to his office confident that Congress would cooperate.
A day later came a call from Dick Fry, President Hammond’s Congressional liaison man. Fry had just had a long talk with Chairman Lancaster and a few selected members of the Appropriations Committee.
‘They’ll give you a billion,“ Fry said. ”No more.“
‘That’s not enough! We requested four billion.“
‘I’m sorry, Factor. A billion’s the best that could be managed. Maybe the Senate will tack on another few hundred million. They’re not in a spending mood. They just want to get home to their constituents.“
‘Is there any hope of a further appropriation next session?“ Regan asked.
‘We’ll be in there pushing, Factor.“
Congress votes a billion for fair, the newsfax headlines declared the next day. Regan was disappointed, but not discouraged. A billion was a billion. It was a beginning.
The President duly signed the authorization, and a Treasury check for a billion platinum-backed dollars was formally turned over to Regan on the White House lawn, in a much-televised ceremony that the relay satellites bounced all over the globe. A day later, Congress adjourned. One day after that, Regan boarded a jet for Brazil.
A beaming President Magelhao greeted him amid the stark, sunbaked extremity of Brasilia. Novaes of Aero do Brasil was on hand, too, for the formal signing of the contract for the building of the World’s Fair Space Satellite.
‘I’m sure this will serve as another powerful bond of hemispheric solidarity,“ Regan declared resonantly in Portuguese acquired hypnotherapeutically the night before. ”After all, the landfall of Columbus is an event concerning not merely the United States of North America, but the entire Western Hemisphere. We are happy to have your great nation join our effort.“
The happiness was not so universal in the north. Almost without exception, the conservative press denounced the contract as a monstrous blunder. Support a competitor? Give jobs to Brazilians instead of to Americans? Let the world think that Brazil could build a better space satellite than the United States, for the United States’ own Fair? Regan must be insane, some editorialists concluded, while others, noting that Regan’s company had recently made a loan to the People’s Republic of China, commented that the man was quite clearly a crypto-Communist.