The Silent War

The scene suddenly changed to show the shattered remains of the Chrysalis habitat: broken, crumpled cylinders of metal glinting against the blackness of space, jagged pieces floating nearby, bodies drifting.

And Edie Elgin’s voice, choked with sorrow and horror, nearly sobbing, was saying, “Nearly eleven hundred people were living in the habitat when it was attacked. They had no weapons, no defenses. They were methodically slaughtered by their unidentified attacker.”

Harbin sank down onto his bed, staring at the screen. The icy armor that had surrounded him began to melt away. For the first time in many days he felt an emotion. He felt pain.

“Yamagata Corporation is not responsible for the Chrysalis tragedy,” Nobuhiko said sternly. “Our employees were working under a contract with Humphries Space Systems.”

“I never ordered them to attack the habitat,” Humphries replied, with some heat. “I just wanted them to find Fuchs.”

Pancho said, “Lars is somewhere in the Belt by now. You’ll never find him.”

“Yes I will. He tried to kill me!”

“That wasn’t my doing,” Pancho said.

Stavenger slapped a palm on the table, silencing them. “I don’t care who did what to whom. The past is over and done with. We’re here to prevent this kind of thing from happening again. I want an end to this fighting.”

“Sure,” Humphries said easily. “I’m willing to stop it. But I want Fuchs’s head on a platter.”

“What you want,” said Pancho, “is total control of the Belt and all its resources.”

“Isn’t that what you want, too?” Humphries countered. Turning to Yamagata, he added, “And you, as well?”

Keeping his face expressionless, Nobuhiko replied, “Now that you have introduced nanomachine processing to mining the asteroids, there is good economic sense in having one corporation establish a monopoly in the Belt.”

“But which corporation?” Humphries asked.

The three of them stared at each other.

“Wait a minute,” Stavenger interrupted. “You’re all forgetting something that’s important.”

They turned toward him.

“There’s more to mining the asteroids than making profits,” he said. “More involved in this than acquiring power.”

Humphries smirked. “I can’t imagine what it could be.”

But Pancho’s face lit up. “It’s what Dan Randolph wanted in the first place! Back when we made the flight out to the Belt in the old Starpower!”

“And what was that?” Nobuhiko asked. “To help the people on Earth,” said Pancho. “Help ’em recover from the greenhouse cliff. Bring ’em the raw materials for rebuilding. Bring ’em the fuels for fusion power generators. That’s what Dan started out to do!”

“And that’s what you’ve all lost sight of,” said Stavenger.

“Well, that’s our principal market, I agree,” Humphries said. “But that doesn’t mean—”

Pancho cut him off. “We oughtta be selling the ores from the asteroids at the lowest possible price. And the fusion fuels, too.”

“And building more solar power satellites,” Stavenger added.

“To help rebuild Japan,” Yamagata murmured.

“To help rebuild the world,” said Pancho.

Stavenger smiled gently. “And to help expand human habitats on the Moon and elsewhere, in deep space.”

“We can do that!” Pancho agreed eagerly.

“But not with the three of you cutting each other’s throats,” Stavenger said.

“Only one corporation should manage the resources of the Belt,” Yamagata said firmly. “Competition is pointless, once nanoprocessing reduces the prices of asteroidal ores.”

“Not ores,” Humphries reminded him. “The nanomachines will produce pure metals.”

“And minerals,” Pancho added.

Humphries gave her an exaggerated bow of his head.

“But which corporation will gain the monopoly?” Yamagata asked.

“None of us,” said Pancho.

“What?” Humphries snapped. “It’s got to be one of us. Nobody else has the capability.”

“Selene does,” Pancho said, staring straight at Stavenger.

Looking back at her, he admitted, “I’ve been thinking that way, too.”

Humphries exploded, “If you think you’re going to muscle me out of what’s rightfully mine—”

Pancho waved him down. “Don’t pop your cork, Martin. I know how we can do this and keep our shareholders happy.”

“I don’t see how that can be done,” Humphries groused.

“Nor do I,” Nobuhiko added.

Grinning, Pancho clasped her hands together and leaned them on the conference table. “It’s simple. We each sign a contract with Selene for them to operate our asteroid business. We get the profits, minus a small percentage to Selene.”

“A manager’s fee,” said Stavenger.

“Right,” Pancho agreed. “Selene manages our operations and sets the market prices for the asteroidal products. The three of us just sit back and collect the profits.”

Yamagata took in a deep breath. Then, “I presume that Selene will set the prices as low as possible.”

“Very likely,” Stavenger said. “Those people on Earth need the resources. We won’t put power trips ahead of the people’s needs.”

“Power trips?” Humphries snarled. “You’ll have all the power.”

“That’s right,” Stavenger replied amiably. “Selene will be the arbiter for the rest of the solar system. No more competition. No more killing. No more war.”

“I don’t like it,” said Humphries.

Yamagata asked, “Can Selene be trusted with such power?”

“Can anyone else in this room?” Stavenger retorted.

A heavy silence fell across the conference table.

Finally Pancho said, “I’m willing to try it—on a five-year time limit. That way, if we’re not happy with Selene’s performance when the time’s up, we don’t have to renew the contract.”

“But only if two of the three corporations refuse to renew,” said Stavenger. “No single corporation can back out of the contract, it will take a majority vote.”

“Agreed,” said Pancho.

“I would like to consult my people back on Earth before agreeing,” Yamagata said.

“I still don’t like it,” Humphries grumbled.

“C’mon, Martin,” Pancho reached over and shook him slightly by the shoulder. “It’ll make life a lot easier for you. You’ll still be the richest sumbitch in the solar system. All you’ll have to do is sit back and pull in the profits. No more worries.”

“No more slaughters,” Stavenger said, his face still deadly serious. “Regardless of your intentions, Martin, it was your orders that led to the Chrysalis massacre.”

“That would never hold up in a court of law.”

“Don’t be too certain of that. War crimes courts can be very harsh.”

Humphries leaned back in his chair, his mouth a tight line, his eyes closed. At last he sat up straight and asked Stavenger, “Will you still exile me?”

Stavenger smiled. “No, I don’t think that would be necessary, Martin. You can rebuild your home down below. Besides, I rather think I’d like to have you close by, where I can keep an eye on you.”