“Five full-sized ones, and we’re growing the bio component for three more. I just placed the orders for the electronics on them. I’ve got one down on Earth, these two here, and a couple more on loan to Regulo. He has Sala Keino using them out near Atlantis.”
“Atlantis?” Chernick turned his long, inquisitive nose in Rob’s direction. “What does he want with one out there?”
“I’ll tell you when he tells me. He’s being cute about it. All he’ll admit is that it’s a new way of mining.” It was Rob’s turn to look sly. “If I were you, Rudy, I’d begin worrying. You know Regulo’s reputation — suppose he’s making the Moles obsolete?”
Chernick shrugged and chewed at his moustache. “I know Regulo’s reputation. That’s why I’m not worried. He’s not interested in anything that works down on Earth. My Moles are safe enough.” But despite his confident words, he seemed to have a lot on his mind as they made their way to the ship that would carry him back to the Colony. An intelligent man could quickly see the ways in which a working beanstalk would reduce the effective distance between Earth and sky industries.
That had been back in the first days of production. Events since then had done nothing to make Rudy Chernick feel more comfortable. Things were running along fast, although after the first shake-down period, with well over a thousand kilometers of cable extruded, Rob had insisted on throwing all the product away and beginning the extrusion again. His act had baffled everyone but Regulo. The old man had laughed his grating laugh and nodded his head approvingly when Corrie called and told him about it.
“Exactly the right thing to do,” he said. “I just don’t know how Merlin got smart so quick. He’s a young man, but he really understands the difference between transients and steady-state solutions.”
“Do you mean the first batch of cable was no good?”
“Oh, it was probably all right — almost certainly all right. But there’s a chance that the specs were off a teeny bit in that first shake-down period. Merlin waited until all the production was smooth, then he started over knowing there was nothing peculiar left over from the time before everything settled down. It’s just what I’d do myself — only I’m not sure I’d have had the sense to do it at his age. They’re getting too good too soon these days.” He shook his gnarled head. “Good thing I’ve given up on the technical side.”
Perhaps. But Regulo examined the production reports daily, and detailed design plans for the beanstalk were scattered all over the big study in Atlantis.
Rob had no illusions about the extent of Regulo’s involvement and interest. He never hesitated to call the other man at once when there was a knotty engineering problem. Every time, there would be a few seconds of grumbling about doing another man’s work for him — what did Rob think he was being paid for? Then those bright old eyes would light up with interest, the computer was linked into the two-way conversation, and any other problems through the vast network of Regulo Enterprises were put on hold until he and Rob had thrashed out some kind of answer.
“Now, don’t call me again unless it’s a financial matter,” he said, every time, as he cut the circuit. Rob politely agreed, and kept his grin to himself until the video link had been switched off.
With seventy thousand kilometers of beanstalk ready, those conversations were less frequent. Anything that went wrong now would be too serious for a mere discussion to fix. Rob fretted constantly over the extrusion rate of the Spiders, checking that it did not change by the tiniest fraction.
“Why do you worry about that so much?” asked Corrie, as they docked their inspection ships at the main crew station and removed their suits. “Does it matter if they slow down or speed up a little?”
“It would be fatal.” Rob looked out along the great length of the cable. “Do you realize how much momentum that thing has? The mass is already over a billion tons, and it’s all moving steadily away from here at the same speed that the Spiders extrude the cable. If they try and slow down or speed up a bit, they have a billion tons of inertia that doesn’t want to go along with that idea. The force would pull the Spiders off the asteroid and separate them from the raw materials — and you can imagine what that would do to our schedules. Regulo would be breathing down my neck, instead of being out of the way in Atlantis.”
Corrie nodded. “Have you called him in the past couple of days? Last time we spoke he told me that he had some news for you.”
Rob was standing next to her in the fifth of a gee provided by the rotating station. Looking at her, he marvelled again how he could have been so blind. She was Senta’s daughter. The coloring was different, and Corrie’s figure was much slimmer — but look at the bone structure of those cheeks. Look at the line of her neck. It was Senta exactly.
What about the eyes, though, those clear, bright eyes? They, surely, had come from somewhere else. They matched the frosty blue of Darius Regulo, but Rob could go no farther than that. He had looked hard at Corrie after Senta’s assertion. Regulo’s ruined face made the comparison of their features an impossible task.
Most of the time, while Rob was busy night and day on beanstalk construction, Corrie had been away on Atlantis. At their infrequent meetings, he always intended to ask Corrie about her father. Each time, he had failed to go through with it.
Suppose Corrie didn’t want it known that Regulo was her father? There were good reasons for that. She did her job efficiently, but her life would become more complicated if anyone in Regulo Enterprises knew that she was the boss’s daughter. No matter what she did it would be discounted, credited to family rather than talent.
Rob dithered, something unknown to him in his technical work. And he had never managed to ask his question.
“Well, aren’t you interested in knowing what Regulo has for you?” asked Corrie. She was staring hard at Rob, with the crackling blue eyes that had started his train of thought.
“I’m sorry.” Rob pulled his attention back to present problems. “I was miles away. Of course I want to know what Regulo is doing. What did he tell you?”
Corrie laughed. “You were miles away — as usual. You’ve not been listening to me at all. I just told you he wouldn’t tell me what he wants, or what his news is. You’ll have to call him yourself. I’d like to sit in when you do, though. I think there’s something new in the air. I’ve learned to tell when Regulo is excited.”
“Will he talk, do you think, with both of us at this end?”
“I don’t think he’ll actually talk to either of us. Not on two-way. The delay times are getting longer, and he’s impatient. Last time there was a round-trip signal time of nearly forty seconds, and he hated that.” Corrie was leading the way through the crew station towards the communications room. “He’s still moving Atlantis farther out from the Sun. I think all we’ll get is a recorded message with your code I.D. on it.”
They entered the shielded booth, a tight squeeze for two people, and Rob keyed in his personal print. After a second or two the screen lit up and Regulo appeared on it.
“You’re right,” Rob said. “Time’s too short for a transmission to Atlantis and back. All we’ll get is a canned message.” He turned up the volume and leaned closer to the small screen.
“I’ve been watching your progress,” began Regulo without preamble. There was a metallic edge of impatience in his gruff voice. “You’re still ahead of schedule, and so far as I can tell there’s nothing for you in the next couple of days that can’t be delegated. Don’t say it, I know you’re busy as hell. But I’ve watched your crews work, and they are all first-rate. Before things get too close to completion, I want you to come to Atlantis.”