Strong was, as usual, already in the office when Harriman came in. Before the partners could speak, the screen called out, “Mr. Harriman, Rotterdam calling.”
“Tell them to go plant a tulip.”
“Mr. van der Velde is waiting, Mr. Harriman.”
“Okay.”
Harriman let the Hollander talk, then said, “Mr. van der Velde, the statements attributed to me are absolutely correct. I put those diamonds the reporters saw into the ship before it took off. They were mined right here on Earth. In fact I bought them when I came over to see you; I can prove it.”
“But Mr. Harriman—”
“Suit yourself. There may be more diamonds on the Moon than you can run and jump over. I don’t guarantee it. But I do guarantee that those diamonds the newspapers are talking about came from Earth.”
“Mr. Harriman, why would you send diamonds to the Moon? Perhaps you intended to fool us, no?”
“Have it your own way. But I’ve said all along that those diamonds came from Earth. Now see here: you took an option—an option on an option, so to speak. If you want to make the second payment on that option and keep it in force, the deadline is nine o’clock Thursday, New York time, as specified in the contract. Make up your mind.”
He switched off and found his partner looking at him sourly. “What’s eating you?”
“I wondered about those diamonds, too, Delos. So I’ve been looking through the weight schedule of the Pioneer.”
“Didn’t know you were interested in engineering.”
“I can read figures.”
“Well, you found it, didn’t you? Schedule F-i 7-c, two ounces, allocated to me personally.”
“I found it. It sticks out like a sore thumb. But I didn’t find something else.”
Harriman felt a ‘cold chill in his stomach. “What?”
“I didn’t find a schedule for the cancelled covers.” Strong stared at him.
“It must be there. Let me see that weight schedule.”
“It’s not there, Delos. You know, I thought it was funny when you insisted on going to meet Captain LeCroix by yourself. What happened, Delos? Did you sneak them aboard?” He continued to stare while Harriman fidgeted. “We’ve put over some sharp business deals—but this will be the first time that anyone can say that the firm of Harriman and Strong has cheated.”
“George—I would cheat, lie, steal, beg, bribe—do anything to accomplish what we have accomplished.”
Harriman got up and paced the room. “We had to have that money, or the ship would never have taken off. We’re cleaned out. You know that, don’t you?”
Strong nodded. “But those covers should have gone to the Moon. That’s what we contracted to do.”
“I just forgot it. Then it was too late to figure the weight in. But it doesn’t matter. I figured that if the trip was a failure, if LeCroix cracked up, nobody would know or care that the covers hadn’t gone. And I knew if he made it, it wouldn’t matter; we’d have plenty of money. And we will, George, we will!”
“We’ve got to pay the money back.”
“Now? Give me time, George. Everybody concerned is ‘happy the way it is. Wait until we recover our stake; then I’ll buy every one of those covers back—out of my own pocket. That’s a promise.”
Strong continued to sit. Harriman stopped in front of him. “I ask you, George, is it worth while to wreck an enterprise of this size for a purely theoretical point?”
Strong sighed and said, “When the time comes, use the firm’s money.”
“That’s the spirit! But I’ll use my own, I promise you.”
“No, the firm’s money. If we’re in it together, we’re in it together.”
“O.K., if that’s the way you want it.”
Harriman turned back to his desk. Neither of the two partners had anything to say for a long while. Presently Dixon and Entenza were announced.
“Well, Jack,” said Harriman. “Feel better now?”
“No thanks to you. I had to fight for what I did put on the air—and some of it was pirated as it was. Delos, there should have been a television pick-up in the ship.”
“Don’t fret about it. As I told you, we couldn’t spare the weight this time. But there will be the next trip, and the next. Your concession is going to be worth a pile of money.”