“… with the economy of our city being so reliant on the Space Trades and interplanetary commerce, would you please talk a little about your plan for the voters out there.”
“Again Tom, it’s just a matter of getting back to good ol’ tried-and-true Southern values. The Space Rush that began nearly forty years ago was an effort to give private enterprise new opportunities on a new frontier. Somewhere along the way, we lost our vision. Those capitalistic endeavors … mining interests, medical research, manufacturing concerns … have all gotten lost in the shuffle of too much government regulation and social unrest which is now discouraging private investment.”
“But Senator Denton, most would argue that the dismantling of NASA over a decade ago and replacing it with the Space Authority is wholly to blame for that. All perpetrated by the very committee you now sit on.”
“Whoa, hoss!” Denton chuckled, but he now seemed very uncomfortable as he waved his hands in front of him, as if to ward off a physical assault. “Let’s remind everyone out there … I was not in office when the committee did that. I wasn’t on the committee when the Space Authority was created. But, I am working diligently to persuade my esteemed colleagues on the committee to take a second look at things.”
“So, you’re saying now you think the creation of the Space Authority was a mistake?”
“Careful Denton, you’re fixin’ to step on a lot of toes now.” Tiger knew the Authority. He knew the powers-that-be, those deep behind the scenes at the Authority, did not intend to give up one iota of power. Headquartered now on Luna, they were no longer Earth-bound. They had their own military/police force in the Space Guard. They had the means to wage war. Just ask the ghosts of Luna Three. They controlled the space lanes and all interplanetary commerce now. They had long outgrown the control of their worldly masters. They filed obligatory reports to the UN and the other contributing governments. They paid lip service to their bureaucratic overseers. Yet, they would greatly resent any interference into the day-to-day operations of their personal empire. Nor would they take kindly to any suggestion of being dismantled, especially by some backwoods hick politician from the Southern U.S.
“Look, Tom, I’m not trying to pick a fight with the Space Authority. Ok?”
“Probably be wise on your part, dickweed,” Tiger spoke at the multivision screen. He was no fan of the Authority either, much as he was no fan of hornets. Be that as it may, he didn’t go around throwing rocks at their nests.
“But I do believe we have to make space easier for corporations to do business in.” Denton was continuing, using his well-manicured hands for emphasis. His fingers were long and slender, almost feminine. Tiger wondered how long it’d been since he’d washed actual dirt off them.
“So, are you saying the Authority, in your eyes, no longer abides by the intent of Commercial Space Ventures Act?”
“As a businessman myself, I can tell you with certainty that our economy and our free enterprise system works best in a non-restrictive environment. And right now, we don’t have that. We got the Authority and the Space Trades unions controlling who can work in space, the ports, and the shipyards.
“Right now, as we sit here, right above us, generation ships are being built to carry explorers to other stars. Every day, we spend millions on these ships. And a huge percentage of that cost goes to wages and benefits. Why? Because the unions have it locked down to where you have to be trained in their apprenticeship programs to do the work.”
Tiger’s eyes blazed with true rage. He resisted the urge to reach for his Spacehawk and shoot the screen out. But the inn had threatened to ban him for life after the last one he’d shot out.
Sure, Senator Shelby Denton, Esquire, hated the Space Trades unions. He made no secret of that. After all, he was a corporate lap dog, carrying the water for the rich and powerful up on Capitol Hill. They hadn’t poured millions into his campaign coffers to have prayer put back in school, to allow a redneck to keep his Guard-issue, Russian-made pulse rifle, or to take away a woman’s right to choose. No siree! Of course, it’s what the voters wanted to hear during the campaign, but once the elections were over, it was time to go to work for the folks he really worked for. And it sure wasn’t the Southern Baptists.
But Tiger knew it went even deeper than that. He knew the good Senator had a personal and deep-seated loathing, a vendetta reserved just for the Interplanetary and Orbital Pilot’s Guild. More specifically, he hated the Redstone Lodge of the IOPG. Even more specifically, he hated the founder of the Redstone Lodge, the man whose shadow he would never escape. A man larger than life. The man who, even now, exiled to the far reaches of Sol, would forever be a legend in this town. The man who’d sent him to the dentist. The one and only Dalton James.
“There’s no argument about that, Senator,” Tom was replying to the Senator’s statement. “But wouldn’t you want the most skilled workforce you could get to assemble your ship if you were riding it into
