Manufacturing in this chamber?”
Dan got to his feet. “I represent Astro, Your Honor. My name is Daniel Hamilton Randolph.”
All three judges smiled at Dan the way Torquemada might have smiled at a rabbi. Dan smiled back and said:
“Your Honors, Astro is quite willing to pay the penalty that you have already decided to assess against Mitchell Mining and Smelting.”
Dan knew that the penalty was already recorded in their computer file of this proceeding. If they changed it now, because Astro could afford an astronomically larger fine or because they hated Dan Randolph’s guts, it would give Astro’s lawyers a perfect excuse to claim prejudice and demand a new trial.
The three judges put their heads together and conferred briefly, hands over the tiny microphones imbedded in the desktop before them.
Finally the chief conciliator, her face grim, leveled a hard stare at Dan. “Mr. Randolph, this tribunal cannot help but believe that your acquisition of Mitchell Mining and Smelting is nothing less than an obvious ploy to thwart justice.”
Dan put on an expression of injured innocence. “But Your Honor, the truth is exactly the opposite. I’m sure that the fine you’ve assessed against Mitchell would bankrupt his company and drive him out of business. His assets would become the property of the Global Economic Council. The GEC would have to assume the burden of running the mining and smelting operation—”
“GEC management would see that the operation remained within its allotted quotas,” the chief conciliator snapped angrily. “There would be no attempts to illegally increase profits by dumping excess ores on the world market and driving prices down from their mandated levels.”
Dan’s smile turned slightly impish. “Yes, we all know GEC operations never show any profits. Somehow, when the GEC takes over a company, it always seems to run at a loss.”
His lawyer made a polite little cough, a warning to get off that tack. This is no time for sticking the needle into them, she was telling Dan.
Still facing the judges, Dan went on, “However, Astro Manufacturing is quite willing to pay the fine you’ve assessed. And Astro will manage Mitchell Mining and Smelting at a profit, I’m sure, while staying within the GEC’s mandated quotas. That will generate more tax revenues for the GEC. Everybody gains. It’s a win-win situation.”
“And what of Mr. Mitchell?” the chief conciliator demanded. “What punishment will he receive for his blatant disregard of the law?”
Dan smiled his brightest. “Why, he’ll have to work for me. That ought to be punishment enough.”
Dan and his lawyer rode alone in his private trolley back to Astro’s main base at the great ringed plain of Alphonsus, where Yamagata Industries had set up its first and still largest lunar center.
One of the privileges of great wealth was privacy. Another was convenience. Dan was one of only two men who had a private trolley vehicle on the Moon. The other was Saito Yamagata, once Dan’s boss, for many years now his friend and sometime partner.
Like cable cars that climb mountains or cross chasms on Earth, the lunar trolleys were suspended from cables made of lunar aluminum and titanium. Cryogenically cooled, the cables carried electricity at low resistance that powered the trolleys swiftly and smoothly ten meters above the battered lunar terrain.
“You almost blew it, boss,” said his lawyer. She was sitting in a softly yielding padded chair, swirling a drink she had fixed for herself at the minibar.
Dan looked up from the display screen built into his desktop. “Close doesn’t count, except in horseshoes, Scarlett.”
“My name is Katherine,” she said, with a slight frown. “My friends call me Kate.”
“And what should I call you?”
The frown turned into a grin. They had played this little game a thousand times in the years that she had worked for Dan Randolph. “Ms. Williams will
Dan got to his feet. “I represent Astro, Your Honor. My name is Daniel Hamilton Randolph.”
All three judges smiled at Dan the way Torquemada might have smiled at a rabbi. Dan smiled back and said:
“Your Honors, Astro is quite willing to pay the penalty that you have already decided to assess against Mitchell Mining and Smelting.”
Dan knew that the penalty was already recorded in their computer file of this proceeding. If they changed it now, because Astro could afford an astronomically larger fine or because they hated Dan Randolph’s guts, it would give Astro’s lawyers a perfect excuse to claim prejudice and demand a new trial.
The three judges put their heads together and conferred briefly, hands over the tiny microphones imbedded in the desktop before them.
Finally the chief conciliator, her face grim, leveled a hard stare at Dan. “Mr. Randolph, this tribunal cannot help but believe that your acquisition of Mitchell Mining and Smelting is nothing less than an obvious ploy to thwart justice.”
Dan put on an expression of injured innocence. “But Your Honor, the truth is exactly the opposite. I’m sure that the fine you’ve assessed against Mitchell would bankrupt his company and drive him out of business. His assets would become the property of the Global Economic Council. The GEC would have to assume the burden of running the mining and smelting operation—”
“GEC management would see that the operation remained within its allotted quotas,” the chief conciliator snapped angrily. “There would be no attempts to illegally increase profits by dumping excess ores on the world market and driving prices down from their mandated levels.”
Dan’s smile turned slightly impish. “Yes, we all know GEC operations never show any profits. Somehow, when the GEC takes over a company, it always seems to run at a loss.”
His lawyer made a polite little cough, a warning to get off that tack. This is no time for sticking the needle into them, she was telling Dan.
Still facing the judges, Dan went on, “However, Astro Manufacturing is quite willing to pay the fine you’ve assessed. And Astro will manage Mitchell Mining and Smelting at a profit, I’m sure, while staying within the GEC’s mandated quotas. That will generate more tax revenues for the GEC. Everybody gains. It’s a win-win situation.”
“And what of Mr. Mitchell?” the chief conciliator demanded. “What punishment will he receive for his blatant disregard of the law?”
Dan smiled his brightest. “Why, he’ll have to work for me. That ought to be punishment enough.”
Dan and his lawyer rode alone in his private trolley back to Astro’s main base at the great ringed plain of Alphonsus, where Yamagata Industries had set up its first and still largest lunar center.
One of the privileges of great wealth was privacy. Another was convenience. Dan was one of only two men who had a private trolley vehicle on the Moon. The other was Saito Yamagata, once Dan’s boss, for many years now his friend and sometime partner.
Like cable cars that climb mountains or cross chasms on Earth, the lunar trolleys were suspended from cables made of lunar aluminum and titanium. Cryogenically cooled, the cables carried electricity at low resistance that powered the trolleys swiftly and smoothly ten meters above the battered lunar terrain.
“You almost blew it, boss,” said his lawyer. She was sitting in a softly yielding padded chair, swirling a drink she had fixed for herself at the minibar.
Dan looked up from the display screen built into his desktop. “Close doesn’t count, except in horseshoes, Scarlett.”
“My name is Katherine,” she said, with a slight frown. “My friends call me Kate.”
“And what should I call you?”
The frown turned into a grin. They had played this little game a thousand times in the years that she had worked for Dan Randolph. “Ms. Williams will
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