“I’m not sure it’s something that we have options on anymore,” Keene replied. “They all moved to Saturn.”
* * *
Keene grabbed a half hour to stop by at the agency and check on things with Shirley, then returned to the Sheraton to freshen up and change before the Kronian reception at seven. By that time he had consolidated his thoughts sufficiently to call Marvin Curtiss, Amspace’s president and CEO, to update him on the situation that Cavan had described the evening before, and Keene’s further impressions after his day in Washington. It was all pretty much in line with what Curtiss had been finding out independently.
“It doesn’t look as if we’re going to be able to count on much support from the main contractors,” he told Keene from the hotel room’s terminal screen. “They’re taking the line that it isn’t the business of corporations to decide what’s scientifically true or not. That’s what we’ve got universities and national laboratories for.” He didn’t have to add that it also meant they could look forward to a continuation of low-risk contracts that referees from those same universities and laboratories would feel comfortable with and approve, and which wouldn’t frighten investors.
“I don’t know, Marvin,” Keene sighed, tired after a long day. “How do you deal with it?”
“Just keep saying what we’ve always said: that we believe the claims the Kronians are making deserve serious consideration, and everyone should forget their vested interests and try to be open-minded to what appear to be the facts.” That was what Keene had expected. If Curtiss weren’t a fighter, he would hardly have been running an operation like Amspace to begin with. Curtiss went on, “One thing we might try is getting Les working on organizing more voice and visibility for the scientists out there who have been taking a more independent stand—like this character Salio that you talked to. We need people like him.”
“I’ve arranged to meet him on my way back,” Keene said.
“Good. Find out what his story is and who else he talks to. Maybe we don’t have to let the establishment have a monopoly on the media.”
“What about the political side?” Keene asked. “How much do you trust this talk about a defense loophole and Air Force money coming through the back door if that bill goes through?” That news hadn’t come as a total surprise to Curtiss, who had apparently heard something similar from another source.
“If it happens, then fine, but I’ve always believed in insurance,” Curtiss answered. “I’ve been talking to the people here about bringing forward the schedule for getting Montemorelos operational.” He meant the backup launch and landing facility being constructed in the highlands not far south of the border—outside U.S. jurisdiction. “Not marginally, but making it our top priority.”
“That makes sense,” Keene agreed. “But it might only tide us over for a while. The Mexicans are still vulnerable to pressure from our side.”
Curtiss nodded. “I know. Beyond that, we’re reviewing the options we’ve negotiated on possible sites farther from home.”
“I think there’s some for lease at the original Tapapeque complex in Guatemala,” Keene said.
“There is?”
“So I heard around a month or two ago.”
“We’ll look into it.” There was a blur in the foreground on the screen as Curtiss checked his watch. “I’m due for another appointment, Lan. It should be interesting meeting the Kronians tonight. Call me tomorrow and let me know how it went.”
“I will,” Keene said. “Take care, Marvin.”
Keene still had some time before the TV reporters were due. Out of curiosity, he scanned the news searcher for items relating to the Kronians and selected one of the current leaders, which turned out to be an NBC panel hookup to debate whether ancient sources constituted a valid basis for formulating scientific beliefs.
“Absolutely not!” was the opinion of a speaker, captioned as Dr. William Ledden, an astronomer at the University of California. “Repeatable observations and measurements determine what is properly termed science. What writers of old manuscripts say happened, or think happened, or think ought to have happened simply has no place . . .” He waved a hand agitatedly, as if too exasperated to be capable of further coherent thought.