Timemaster Page 8

  She sighed. If she married Randy, it would be like being married to a sea captain—a few days or weeks of intense and loving courtship, followed by many months of neglect and loneliness. She was now resigned to expect no more than that from Randy after they were married. Besides, she couldn't help herself ... she loved him.

  Chapter 4

  Terravator

  AFTER their joyful wedding, Randy and Rose spent their honeymoon at an exclusive resort that was literally out of this world—the "penthouse" suite of the Reinhold Spaceport Hotel. The hotel was one of the first things constructed out of the captured near-Earth carbonaceous chondrite asteroid that would ultimately become the Terravator. A flotilla of Golda Reinhold's AsterSails had been used to haul the forty-meter-wide, fifty-thousand-ton asteroid into its circular polar orbit.

  For a whole month, Rose had Randy to herself. At the end of the month, Alan came to visit the newlyweds up on the still-under-construction Terravator.

  "How do you like being in space?" Randy asked Alan as they walked together into Randy's penthouse apartment.

  "I didn't particularly care for being in free-fall," replied Alan, "but this one-third gravity is very pleasant." They went to look out the large viewport in the center of the living room floor. Only the penthouse, the outer apartment of the multistoried hotel, had such a viewport.

  The Earth was passing majestically beneath them as the hotel rotated around its pivot point to supply artificial gravity to the outer rooms. A rocketship floated past one of the view windows and they walked over to look at it. The ship was painted in the bright-pink and leaf-green colors of the Reinhold Company.

  "Another shipload of tourists," said Randy.

  "I still think it was a mistake for Reinhold Company to get into the hotel business," said Alan sternly. "We are in the transportation business, not the entertainment business."

  "But the cash flow from the tourists helps pay for the workers who are turning the carbon in the asteroid into diamond cable," said Randy. He thought for a second, then nodded in agreement. "You're right, though. I'll sell the hotel part of the Terravator to Hilton-Helmsley as soon as the novelty wears off and the tourists start balking at the high room rates."

  The Earth rose in another window and they turned to observe it. It was half sunlit and half dark, with the spotted glow of cities on the dark side lighting up as the sun set for them. The Terravator was in constant sunlight, for it had been placed in a nearly polar, sun-synchronous orbit that kept it constantly over the terminator line between the bright and dark halves of the blue-white marble that now filled the large window. After watching for a while, Randy turned to Alan.

  "How has the effort gone to quash that subpoena from the House Subcommittee on Space Transportation?" asked Randy.

  "The lawyers are having a difficult time," replied Alan. "They have been able to delay it somewhat, primarily because you're not on Earth at the present time, but they don't know how long they can keep it up. Chairman Barkham is threatening to have you cited for contempt of Congress."

  "Well, I have nothing but contempt for Congress since they let that vacuum-head take his seat. I don't know what got into the voters in the Enclave district. If he flushed out of Princeton, he certainly doesn't have the brains to be a Congressman. His parents must have been tired of having him around the house and bought his way in."

  "His campaign was well funded," admitted Alan.

  "The Barkham billions strike again," said Randy with a sneer. "They probably bought him the chairmanship of the Subcommittee on Space Transportation, too."

  "It is unusual to have a newly elected Congressman as a House committee chairman," mused Alan. "Even if it is just a subcommittee."

  "What was the date of appearance on the subpoena?" asked Randy.

  "Tuesday of next week. But our lawyers have been able to push that date off into next month."

  "Tell them I'll be there next Tuesday," said Randy firmly. "It'll be a pleasure to give Oscar a piece of my mind."

  "What?" said Alan, perplexed. "If you were willing to testify, then why did you have our lawyers try to quash the subpoena?"

  "If I'm going to testify, I want to do it of my own free will," said Randy heatedly. "I don't want some dustbrain Congressman telling me I have to be there—especially if the dustbrain is Oscar. He was always ordering me around as a kid, and I'm not going to take it anymore."

  "I'll tell the lawyers about your decision," said Alan. He shot out his cuff-comp to take a look at the time. "It's after midnight their time. I'll call them tomorrow."

  "You could have known that by just looking out the window," said Randy, pointing to the Earth steadily rising up past the top of the view window.

  "I don't understand," said Alan, frowning.

  "If it's sunrise in Africa, it's midnight in New Jersey." Randy pointed at the continent emerging from the shadow line. "Once you've been out here a few days, you get a different mental picture of the continents. Instead of just static shapes pasted on a globe, your mind changes them into moving shapes, like fish, with a 'front' end and a 'back' end. North America, South America, and Africa all look like seahorses, with pointy leading chests, blunt trailing backbones, and hanging tails, while Australia looks like a piranha. When the front of the continent is coming out of the dark, it's sunrise. When the front goes into the dark, it's sunset."

  Rose came into the room and greeted Alan with a peck on the cheek. "I'm so pleased you came to visit us," she said. "I had the cook prepare us a lovely dinner—not too heavy, since you're not used to low gravity yet."

  "I might try some," said Alan. "I didn't eat much on the way up and I'm famished."

  "White wine?" said the robobutler, coming up to them with a tray holding three glasses.

  IT WAS late Monday afternoon when Randy and "Red" Hurley, the senior senator from New Jersey, walked down the echoing halls and into a meeting room on the House side of the Capitol Building. Some technicians were setting up television cameras for tomorrow's meeting. Senator Hurley was nearly bald, but instead of wearing the white "English barrister" wig most of the other senators affected, Red Hurley wore a bright-red Paul Revere tied back with a formal black bow.

  "This is where you'll be giving your testimony tomorrow," said Senator Hurley.

  "Just as I thought," said Randy, visibly irritated as he looked over the meeting room.

  "What's wrong?" asked Senator Hurley, looking around in puzzlement.

  "The witness table."

  "It's one of the standard large tables," the senator said. "But it looks as though someone has had wheels added to the legs."

  "The witness chair, too," continued Randy, pointing.

  "It's just one of the standard large chairs ..." The senator's eyebrows raised. "Except that someone has had the wheels taken off the feet." He looked down at Randy's grim face.

  "It doesn't take much guessing to know who that someone was," said Randy furiously. "If I sat in that chair before that table, I'd barely be able to get my chin up over the edge. I'd look like a kid getting a lecture at the principal's office."

  "I'll talk to the Speaker of the House and have them replaced immediately," said Senator Hurley, very annoyed with Congressman Barkham. Barkham, with his billions, didn't care that Mr. Hunter was one of New Jersey's most important constituents, but the senator did.

  "Wait," said Randy, thinking. "Just leave the table and chair the way they are. If we change them, Oscar will just come up with some other way to humiliate me." He shot his cuff-comp from his sleeve and punched away on the touchscreen.

  "But how are you ...?" started Senator Hurley.

  "Tony?" said Randy to the image in the cuff-comp. "I need the beam cutter and the sportsman's chair. At the Capitol steps, before nine a.m. tomorrow."

  OSCAR Barkham was in his element. Television lights glaring in his eyes, he banged his gavel loudly on the table before him, causing the microphones to make overload splutters in protest. He had grown even handsomer as he grew olde
r, and today, a boyish wisp of blond hair had escaped his Paul Revere and was dangling seductively down his forehead.

  "The meeting of the House Subcommittee on Space Transportation will come to order!" he said. "The purpose of our meeting today is to discuss the hazards of the so-called Terravator space transportation system being constructed by Reinhold Astroengineering Company. Our first witness is Mr. Harold Randolph Hunter, the owner of the company. Is Mr. Hunter here?" He looked around the room. There was no sign of Randy.

  "Randy-y-y?" he called out into the room, peering through the lights with one hand over his eyes. "Are you hiding behind a toadstool somewhere?" Laughter spread around the room, which he allowed to continue for a while before belatedly bringing it to a halt with a few bangs of his gavel.

  "Since Mr. Hunter has chosen to ignore the subpoena of this subcommittee," Oscar intoned, "I hereby find him in contempt of Congress."

  The meeting-room doors opened and Randy walked in. "You're absolutely right when you say I'm in contempt of Congress, Oscar." He waggled a finger at him. "But remember—you said it, I didn't." He strode to the front of the room until he was standing in front of the too-tall witness table. He put a small black case down on the floor beside him.

  "I had the subpoena quashed," said Randy belligerently to Oscar. "So I cannot be forced to testify."

  Someone behind Oscar leaned forward and whispered in his ear.

  Oscar turned back to look at Randy. "The Subcommittee's legal counsel informs me that the subpoena was not quashed, merely delayed a month. In that case, Mr. Hunter, we will see you next month and force you to testify."

  "If you wish to do it that way," said Randy with an unconcerned shrug. "But since you are here ready to listen and I am here ready to testify, why don't you just ask me to testify? I'm more than willing."

  Without waiting for an answer, he turned his back on the subcommittee and took a look at the witness table.

  "Just what I needed for my first demonstration!" he said loudly, patting one of the huge legs of the table. Turning around to face the subcommittee, he took a crystal disk the size of a hockey puck from his pocket and stuck his finger through a crystal ring-tab that extended from it. He pulled out a glittering thread from the reel and showed it to the members of the subcommittee.

  "One of the reasons that the Terravator will never be a hazard to Earth is that it's being made of the strongest material that can be manufactured by man. Gentlemen, this is a Reinhold isopure diamond fiber, containing a core of isotopically pure, perfect diamond crystal, coated with a thin layer of isopure diamond glass. It is the strongest, hardest, toughest material known."

  He went to the table and hooked the tab to one leg, about a foot off the floor. He then walked around the table, threading the diamond fiber around all four legs. When he got back to the first leg he picked up the tab and inserted it into a notch in the side of the crystal disk. He pushed a button in the center of the disk and a small internal motor started to reel in cable. Soon the disk was suspended between two of the table legs and the whirring sound changed in pitch as the thread tightened.

  "It can cut through anything!" said Randy with a flourish. The committee and audience watched in amazement as, one by one, the thick oak table legs were sliced through by the diamond thread. Soon the last leg was cut and the crystal disk clattered to the floor and turned itself off. Randy picked it up and put it in his pocket, at the same time giving the table a heave with his shoulder. The table clattered to the floor, now a foot shorter. Randy kicked the amputated leg ends underneath, picked up the black case, and walked around to where the large witness chair stood.

  "I won't need this," he said, sliding it heavily aside. "I brought my own chair." He opened the case and took out a folded cluster of crystal rods and shapes. He gave it a shake and it unfolded into a tall stool with a curved seat, curved backrest, and curved armrests. "Made of grown diamond structures," he explained to the audience. He sat down, elbows resting comfortably on top of the table, hands clasped, smiling, and waiting for Oscar to speak.

  "You have gotten off to a bad start, Mr. Hunter," said Oscar severely. "Destroying government property ..."

  "I just 'modified' it, Mr. Barkham," said Randy calmly, "so it serves its purpose better. Besides ... this table had already been 'modified' by someone else previously. Would you like to go into a discussion of that topic?"

  Oscar frowned. "No! Our topic today is that monstrosity that you call the Terravator and the hazards it will present to life on Earth, and especially to people living in the United States of America."

  "Nothing is absolutely safe," Randy countered. "But the Terravator is a safer Earth-to-escape space transportation system than any other yet invented. Rockets can explode and beamed power laser drives can suffer punch-through and tumbling."

  "While all the Terravator can do is break up on reentry and scatter hardware halfway across the country," Oscar retorted.

  "Most of the mass of the Terravator is in orbit, high above the atmosphere, where it will stay even if it came completely apart," said Randy. "May I show my first image?"

  "Very well," said Oscar. "The display screen is set to receive on Channel 100."

  Randy fingered in the numbers on his cuff-comp, and it broadcast the first of the stored images. It was a table listing the characteristics of the completed Terravator system. Randy used the point of a pen on the touchscreen of his cuff-comp to push a leaf-green arrow icon across the image as he talked. The image on his display was replicated in the large screen display at one end of the meeting room.

  "The center of the Terravator is in a fairly high orbit, six thousand three hundred seventy-eight kilometers, or exactly one earth radius. The cable itself is twice that length, since each end must be able to reach down nearly to the Earth's surface. The orbital period of the center of the Terravator around the Earth is close to four hours, while the ends touch down once every two hours."

  "Does that mean it only touches down twice per orbit?" asked some other member of the subcommittee. "I thought rotovators touched down six times per orbit, like the one on the Moon."

  "A minimum-mass rotovator is one that touches down six times per orbit," replied Randy. "And we initially considered that option for the Earth rotovator, or Terravator. But I vetoed it. People riding on that version would be subjected to nearly two-gees acceleration all during their ride. Instead, I decided to make a longer, heavier, and more expensive version that only subjected its passengers to a maximum of one-point-two gees. This version has a cable taper of fifteen to one, a total mass of twelve thousand tons, and end stations of one hundred tons each, fully loaded with passengers. It can lift and deposit thirty tons of passengers or cargo at a time."

  "So!" interrupted Oscar. "We're going to have a hundred tons of deadweight dropping down out of the sky over Jerseyork, creating a horrendous sonic boom, and, sooner or later, crashing into the populace below."

  "The way I've designed the system, most of the touchdown points are above water," Randy explained. "Let me show you." He punched the icons on his cuff-comp screen, and the static image on the large screen display was replaced with a moving image of the Terravator rapidly orbiting around a more slowly rotating Earth. The Terravator was touching down directly at the North and South Poles while the Earth rotated beneath it.

  Everyone in the room was watching the moving display on the wall screen except Randy, who was keeping his eyes on Oscar because he was talking to him. Thus, only Randy saw Oscar's body drop into slow motion, except for the eyes, which were flickering back and forth at high speed. Oscar's ZED-flashback attack didn't last long, but Randy was appalled. It took him a second to get back into his standard patter that went with the animated video segment.

  "The simplest version is to have the Terravator visit just two points on the Earth's surface, the North and South Poles. The orbital period is four hours, so at each pole we can pick up and land a capsuleful of passengers six times a day. Unfortunately, there aren't many c
ustomers near those regions."

  He switched the display to a new video segment. "If we move the touchdown points away from the poles and toward the equator, then the Terravator still only touches down at two points, one north of the equator and another south of the equator, so each hemisphere gets visited once every four hours. The Earth, however, has rotated sixty degrees during that four hours, so each successive touchdown point in each hemisphere is sixty degrees west of the preceding one. After six touchdowns, or twenty-four hours, provided we have timed everything right, the pattern starts all over again with the same six touchdown points in each hemisphere. These will be the twelve new spaceports of the future."

  "Can I arrange a spaceport for northwest Nevada?" asked Congressman "Dusty" Miller. "Congressman Barkham may not want the Terravator visiting Jerseyork, but Nevada could certainly use more business."

  "The laws of orbital mechanics limit our choices," replied Randy. "Let me show you the best arrangement I have been able to find." A polar map of the Northern Hemisphere appeared on the large screen display, with six blinking red dots on it spaced at equal intervals of sixty degrees.

  "By selecting the touchdown points at thirty-seven degrees north and south of the equator, we cover most of the world's population. In the Northern Hemisphere, we will have spaceports in the oceans off New York City and San Francisco, in the Pacific northwest of Hawaii, in the Yellow Sea between Japan, Korea, and China, in the Caspian Sea to serve Russia and the Near East, and near the Strait of Gibraltar to serve Europe and North Africa." He switched to the Southern Hemisphere. There were only three bright-red blinking dots, with three smaller pink dots in the middle of large seas with no landmasses in sight.

  "For the Southern Hemisphere, three of the points are essentially worthless, while the other three touch down in the interior of Australia, south of the Cape of Good Hope, and the South Atlantic off Buenos Aires. That pretty much covers the world, while keeping the actual touchdown points well away from populated areas," Randy concluded, smiling proudly.