CHAPTER 36
“Madeleine was a trip,” Elisa said, settling on the flexcouch in Jason’s compartment and propping up her feet. “I was surprised she didn’t get into who is getting the most maintenance from their beau while we were powdering our noses.”
The reception had eventually turned into dinner, which had been a rousing success. Everybody was happy to both have something to celebrate, Brandywine’s successful first quarter, as well as somewhere. Eight courses of “A Taste of Bellerophon” and some after dinner awards to notable Brandywine employees and Jason was glad to make his way back to his compartment. It had been fun but he was peopled out.
Elisa had made the excuse of “a late evening stroll” to go to his, much closer, compartment.
It was cramped with two but Jason could handle that sort of cramping.
“I cut her some slack,” Jason said, pulling off his dinner jacket and undoing the bowtie. He’d learned to tie one so far back he could barely remember when. “I know I was nuts to get to the planet and remember how you felt about it? You were ready to jump on a bird to go to visit some guy you barely knew.”
“You haven’t dealt most of your life with that type of trophy wife,” Elisa said, sliding to her feet and tapping his hands away. “Oh, no, no, no . . . I get to unwrap you.”
“Unwrap?” Jason said, smiling and reaching behind her for the zipper on the barely there dress.
“Stop,” Elisa said, elbowing his arm away and continuing to unbutton his shirt. “You’ve got a lot more to unwrap. Anticipation. She’s the lady at the country club who’s into everybody’s business, taking charge of everything whether anyone wants her to or not and generally being a pain in the butt. Oh, and constantly critiquing your tennis game behind your back. ‘She has a terrible backswing. Who taught her, Hellen Keller?’”
“Okay,” Jason said, chuckling and trying to reach around the back again.
“Stop,” Elisa said. “Or I’ll grab my stuff and walk home.”
“Long walk,” Jason pointed out.
“There’s a slidewalk,” Elisa said. “And very little crime. And I’m carrying.”
She finished unbuttoning his shirt and frowned at his cufflinks.
“I’ll get the cufflinks,” Jason said.
“Could you . . . we? Really build a townhouse?” Elisa asked.
“We,” Jason said, frowning and undoing his cuffs. “But the more I think about it, the less I like it. We’d have to put it in the warehouse district. That’s . . . not a great area. It’s not even considered residential. Gentrification is all well and good but I think we’ll have to get a house on the surface.”
“I suppose I can wait,” Elisa said, unbuckling his belt. “Now to unwrap my man all the way.”
“I may not even bother to unwrap you,” Jason said. “I’m pretty sure with that outfit, it won’t be necessary . . . ”
* * *
“Jewel,” Jason said. “Are there any zoning restrictions at this time? Could you put a townhome anywhere that there’s room?”
Elisa, bless her, had had the forethought to send over a case. It was locked to her so he couldn’t open it but turned out to contain a “day outfit” so she didn’t have to do the “walk of shame” all the way back to Charleston.
After Elisa had left, Jason had sat down to do some actual work. There was no real need to go into the office: He could do it all in his compartment.
But after a while of looking at financial reports, his eyes were starting to bleed. The gist was they were making money and their main expense was shipping. Along the way, an idea had formed.
“There are no zoning restrictions at this time,” Jewel said.
“See if you can get . . . name . . . The Old House guy.”
“Paul Colegrove,” Jewel said.
“That,” Jason said. “Him.”
Jason went back to reading reports until there was a chime from Jewel.
“Mr. Colegrove is available,” Jewel said.
“Put him through,” Jason replied, looking up at the screen. “Mr. Colegrove!”
“Mr. Graham,” Paul replied. “My first and, so far, only customer. How may I be of service?”
“Getting some of the stuff for the house is going to take a while,” Jason said.
“Most of the pieces, absent wood, require one of the factories to get going,” Colegrove said. “That’s the holdup. And then it’s weather dependent. And you still haven’t chosen a location which is a big part of the weather question.”
“Right,” Jason said, frowning. “But what about a townhome?”
“Where would you put a townhome?” Colegrove asked.
“There are no zoning restrictions,” Jason said. “I was talking last night at a . . . get-together.”
He explained about Brandywine’s.
“And it occurred to me that just as we built Brandywine’s in a space, you could build the interior of a home into a commercial space,” Jason said. “It would give more room than one of these compartments.”
“That’s . . . a thought,” Colegrove said, nodding. “Most of the components that are missing . . . ”
“You’d have to bow to some use of flexmet,” Jason said. “Artificial windows. Flexscreens. Flexmet doors . . . ”
“That’s acceptable,” Colegrove said. “I’ve talked with Mr. Kranhouse at Withywindle already. Mind if I go take a look at Brandywine’s?”
“I can get you in,” Jason said. “But here’s the thing: Don’t tell Elisa.”
“Oh?” Colegrove said carefully.
“I want it to be a surprise,” Jason said. “When we were talking about it last night, I sort of dismissed the idea. ‘It would have to be in an industrial area. There’s security issues.’ Then I was looking at one of these freaking reports and realized that there’s no zoning currently.”
“None?” Colegrove asked.
“None,” Jason said. “Jewel, check me on this: You could put a townhome right on any of the main transfer areas, right? Peachtree, US 1, whatever?”
“That’s correct,” Jewel replied. “There are no rules against it.”
“Those are industrial areas,” Jason said. “Commercial at least. I wouldn’t want it on a main drag but there are areas that are primarily designed for office space and shopping that are on side streets. Those would be fine. Could you, would you, design something like that?”
“Gladly,” Colegrove said musingly. “I’ve always enjoyed my job and don’t particularly want to find another.”
“Jewel,” Jason said.
“Where?” Jewel asked. “Credit for unit trade?”
“The same,” Jason said. “But not just one. Try to get unit control, as much as possible, of every compartment on, say, Street Fourteen Twenty Delta? Sixteen thousand block. That general area.”
It was not far from his current compartment and close enough to main areas. The station had remarkably low crime overall but there was some. Closer to main areas, there was less.
“There’s starting to be people with money on the station,” Jason said. “I know a few of them. If we can get one townhome set up, have some dinners and open houses . . . ”
“Others will do the same,” Colegrove said.
“If it’s spiffy,” Jason said. “And I have no clue what spiffy means. Not furnished. I’ll let Elisa handle that. But . . . you’ve been talking to her about what she wants in a house. Can you sort of figure out how she’d like a townhome set up?”
“I can be sneaky,” Colegrove said. “Slip the questions in. Most of the interior will be broadly similar to the . . . country home?”
“I’m getting to be the real rich guy,” Jason said. “Town and country. One last question. Two. How quick can you get me an estimate and how quick can you put it together?”
“Depends on what it is,” Colegrove said. “I’ll talk to Mr. Kranhouse at Withywindle and look at Brandywine’s. You want mostly wood?”
“It’s going to have to be mostly wood and flex,” Jason said. “That’s what’s available.”
“Counters are the issue. Certain flooring and bathroom fixtures. There’s versions of flexmet available but . . . ” The architect grimaced at the thought of flexmet counters. “Do you know a way to get stone? I’ve been looking everywhere and it’s just not available.”
“Let me talk to Tim,” Jason said. “There’s ways to get stone. As long as you don’t want marble.”
“Someone was trying to explain to me why there’s no marble,” Colegrove said. “There’s no marble nor will there be is what I got out of it.”
“There’s no marble nor limestone,” Jason said. “Nor will there be. There’s sandstone and every form of igneous. Granite, basalt, that sort of thing.”
“Those are useable,” Colegrove said. “But . . . it will need to be cut . . . ”
“Tell me what kind of stone you want that’s not marble or limestone,” Jason said. “Let me figure out how to get it. It might take a trip to the planet to set up a quarry and milling facility. But I do those frequently.”
“Can you get soapstone?” Colegrove asked.
“Already found some but we used it up,” Jason said. “Jewel? How we doing on soapstone deposits?”
“Two large outcrops found so far by teams,” Jewel said. “One in Chindia, one in Kush. No teams currently on-site at either one. So far, we’ve also found outcrops, total volume unknown, of alabaster and onyx. Both of those are in various colors. Lots of alabaster. Various other stones that are occasionally or regularly used in architecture. The problem is that all of them are surface weathered appearance. We really don’t know what the stone is like or how large the deposit is.”
“I’ll take care of that,” Jason said. “Try to figure out which are the best architecturally. Since there’s no immediate large market, I’d like to limit the number of quarries I have to set up for . . . well, just a house. For now.”
“Understood,” Colegrove said. “Searching the world for the perfect type of onyx for a bathtub probably isn’t a profitable endeavor.”
“Not now,” Jason said. “But it could be. And with that I need to convince my partner of that.”
* * *
“Stone is pretty far away from food, Jason,” Tim said dubiously.
“We’ve got the ground-level information,” Jason said. “One of the reasons I set up the algorithm that anything of potential financial worth was not put in the public database. And while it’s not going to be a major market immediately, it’s about staying out in front. Do you want out of the compartment?”
Brandywine had found more than stone along the way. The planet was entirely untouched by mining. There were literally areas with streams of solid gold and copper as well as many other ores.
The planet was generally off-limits for mining, which was better done in space. But quarrying was different. Certain types of minerals and stones were only found on planets.
Albeit, you might find alabaster on any of the rocky planets. It had been found on Mars, pre-Transfer.
“Every day,” Tim said. “But . . . stone?”
“The interior would be mostly wood,” Jason said. “Plaster from the gypsum deposit we found. But what about the bathroom and kitchen? There’s ways to do wood for that. But it makes more sense to use stone or tile. Tile is going to have to wait until the factories are online and have materials. So, stone. We’ve got the locations of several different types. We just need samples from below the weathered surface.”
“A stone company?” Tim said.
“You want a townhouse?” Jason said. “Get out of the compartment?”
“Into a store,” Tim said.
“They turned warehouses into very expensive condos in SoHo,” Jason said.
“Point,” Tim admitted.
“I’m in the process of securing a block of Fourteen Twenty Delta. Want to be neighbors? I know a good architect.”
“It’s worth a thought,” Tim said then sighed. “It would be nice to get out of the compartment. You doing the drop?”
“I’m thinking of just sending bots,” Jason said. “And a six pack. It’s getting the six pack that I need Brandywine. Also, I think it’s a good potential opportunity down the road and so I’m bringing it to my partner. We put a project manager on it, set up a subsidiary . . . The business stuff.”
“‘The business stuff,’” Tim said with a shake of his head. “I’ll throw it to Duncan.”
“How’s he doing?” Jason asked. “We barely got a second at the reception.”
“Pretty good,” Tim said, nodding. “Found a bunch of people who are really good at finding the best and most efficient way to harvest, use flexmet, stuff like that. This is right up his alley.”
“Great,” Jason said, then frowned. “He said he was assistant chief of R&D. Who’s the chief?”
Tim hung his head and let out an aggrieved sigh.
“I’m the chief of R&D, aren’t I?” Jason said, laughing. “I shouldn’t laugh, but . . . ”
“You really are the best and worst partner ever,” Tim said. “It’s coming out of R&D’s budget. He’ll tell you he needs more budget. You’ll have to find it in the budget.”
“Okay,” Jason said, still chuckling. “I’m not big on big budgets when it comes to this. Finding the cheapest way increases inventiveness. Make it hard, not easy. Most of the budget will be getting to the planet. And back up.”
“Up to you and Duncan to figure out,” Tim said. “Anything else?”
“Nope,” Jason said. “Out here.”
* * *
“Duncan!”
“Jason!”
“Sorry we hardly got two words at the reception,” Jason said.
“Totally okay,” Duncan said. “Everybody wanted to talk to you. By the way, wow!”
“Elisa?” Jason said.
“I was wondering why my AI kept telling me I had to handle it,” Duncan said. “Totally acceptable reason, man.”
“That group with you the other night,” Jason said. “That was the R&D Department, wasn’t it?”
“It was, yes,” Duncan said. “And you had no clue you’re their boss.”
“I did not,” Jason said.
“I hate to tell you this,” Duncan said, laughing. “But after you wandered off, Keith was, like, ‘He has no idea he’s our boss, does he?’”
“I am suitably mortified,” Jason said. “God, I am so sorry.”
“No, boss, it’s okay,” Duncan said, shaking his head. “We’re all nerds. We get being absent-minded. And to tell the truth, I’ve enjoyed being able to just run hog wild.”
“Have you?” Jason asked. “Been running hog wild?”
“As hog wild as I can be with the budget Tim will give us,” Duncan said. “Stingy, thy name is Tim.”
“It’s why I let him run things,” Jason said.
“It’s cramping our style with the animal husbandry program, especially,” Duncan said. “That’s got some costs involved.”
“Animal . . . ?” Jason said.
“You wanted to figure out how to implant domestic animals in wild, right?” Duncan said.
“Yes.”
“So far fetuses are doing just fine in our momma sow and momma wolf,” Duncan said. “Aurochs, we’re having to wait until calving season to see if we can get them to milk. But we’ve got the pregnant aurochs penned and we’re training them to go to the milking shed. Those are all Dr. Caldwell’s programs. We can’t really make them full-scale programs without more testing and that will take some more budget. Pretty please?”
“I’ll talk to Tim,” Jason said. “Send me the reports on that. I’ve been reading financials all morning. My eyes are bleeding. I really should pay more attention to R&D seeing as it’s my primary area. Everybody doing okay? Problems? People making money?”
“Loads,” Duncan said. “Pay isn’t the issue, especially when it comes to bonuses. Tim’s not bad there. It’s getting drops, ’cause those still cost out the wazoo, and getting equipment to the ground.”
“There’s a value there,” Jason said. “Necessity is the mother of invention. Making it tougher . . . ”
“We figure out a cheaper way to do it and it costs the company less,” Duncan said, nodding. “But it’s still making it harder than it has to be, Jason. The main thing we really need is more access. Which is drop costs.”
“So, what I’m about to throw at you is going to be drop costs,” Jason said. “And while it comes from an admittedly personal angle, I think it’s a moneymaker long term . . . ”
* * *
“You’re building a townhome?” Duncan said.
“The compartment is kind of crowded with two,” Jason said.
“How much is it gonna cost?” Duncan asked. “The house I mean. I wouldn’t mind moving out of the compartment.”
“Still figuring that out,” Jason said. “You know Mr. Kranhouse at Withywindle?”
“I do,” Duncan said. “Mostly going with wood?”
“Easier to work with and it’s readily available,” Jason said. “But it’s still being designed and we need to know what rock’s available.”
“Sampling that many sites . . . ” Duncan said, frowning. “That’s going to be a lot of ship time. Which means a lot of cost. Tim’s going for this?”
“I may just pay for it out of pocket myself,” Jason said. “That or convince Tim it has to be a supplementary budget item. What is the budget . . . ?”
* * *
“Tim, for God’s sake, we’ve got to be able to have more than four lifts a month,” Jason said. “R&D has consistently been turning up good opportunities. How much value has it pumped into this company?”
“Have you been paying attention to the cost of lift?” Tim said.
“I saw it on the financials,” Jason said. “It’s pretty much our biggest cost.”
“Four thousand credits, each way, for a twelve pack,” Tim said. “Sometimes as high as six thousand.”
“That high? Jesus,” Jason said.
“We pass on six,” Tim said with a shrug. “We’ve got inventory. We’re up to using hundred packs on some runs, the thousand packs only for things like the salmon. Slight decrease in cost per pack. But it’s eating us alive and it’s constantly going up. We’re not the only ones on the ground, Dewalt has mandated that one out of ten drops be colonists . . . If we don’t manage the drops as carefully as possible, it’ll eat us alive. Forget dividends, we’ll go unprofitable.”
“I’m going to bow to your knowledge on that,” Jason said thoughtfully. “And I’m probably talking with the wrong person.”
“I’m not trying to piss you off, Jason . . . ” Tim said.
“No, no,” Jason said, shaking his head vehemently. “Not the point. Shipping costs are out of control. There’s only one real answer to that. So, you’re not the person I need to be talking to . . . ”