“I think so, too.”
Yamagata seemed to be searching Humphries’s eyes, trying to penetrate to his secret thoughts. “Then why do you insist that I refuse to help him?”
“You misunderstand me,” Humphries said, putting on an expression of injured integrity. “I want Randolph to succeed. I intend to fund his fusion rocket venture myself.”
“Yes, so I understand,” said Yamagata, once Humphries’s answer reached him. “What I do not understand is why you pressured me to refuse Dan.”
“Could you help him if you wish?”
Yamagata hesitated, but at last replied, “I could put together two billion for him.”
“Without hurting your rebuilding projects?”
The hesitation was longer this time. “There would be some… repercussions.”
“But I can provide the funding and you don’t have to take a penny from your existing projects.”
Yamagata said nothing for many long moments. Then, “You have put considerable pressure on the banks to make certain that I do not fund Dan Randolph. I want to know why.”
“Because I believe the same as you do,” Humphries replied, earnestly, “that all of Japan’s resources of capital and manpower should be devoted to rebuilding your nation. This fusion rocket venture is very speculative. Suppose it doesn’t work? The money will be wasted.”
“Yet you are willing to risk your own money.”
“I have the money to risk,” Humphries said.
After an even longer pause, Yamagata said, “You could invest that two billion in Japan. You could help to house the homeless and feed the hungry. You could assist us to rebuild our cities.”
Humphries worked hard to avoid grinning. Now I’ve got the little bugger, he told himself. To Yamagata he said, “Yes, you’re right. Tell you what I’ll do: I’ll give Randolph one billion only, and invest the other billion in Yamagata Industries. How’s that?”
The Japanese industrialist’s eyes flickered when he heard Humphries’s words. He sucked in a deep, shrill breath.
“Would you be willing to invest your billion in the Renew Nippon Fund?”
“That’s essentially a charity, isn’t it?”
“It is a nonprofit organization dedicated to helping those who have been displaced by our natural disasters.”
This time Humphries hesitated, paused, let Yamagata believe that he was thinking it over before he came to a decision. The damned fool. Thinks he’s so fucking smart, keeping me from putting any money into his own corporation. Okay, keep me shut out from your company. I’ll get you sooner or later.
With as much of a show of concern as he could muster, Humphries said, “Mr. Yamagata, if you think that’s the best way for me to help Japan, then that’s what I’ll do. One billion for Randolph, and one billion for the Renew Nippon Fund.”
Yamagata was actually smiling as they ended their conversation. Once he had switched off the phone, Humphries burst into enormously satisfied laughter.
They’re all so dense! So blind! Yamagata wants to rebuild Japan. Randolph wants to save the whole fricking world. Damned fools! None of them understand that the world is done for. Nothing’s going to save them. The thing is to build a new civilization off-Earth. Build a new society where it’s safe, where only the best people are allowed to live. Build it… and rule it.
LONDON
The Executive Board of the Global Economic Council met in a spacious conference room on the top floor of the undistinguished neomodern glass-and-steel office tower that served as the GEC’s headquarters. Originally, GEC’s offices had been in Amsterdam, but the rising sea level and pounding storms that raged through the North Sea made that city untenable. The Dutch struggled in vain to hold back the IJsselmeer, only to see their city’s narrow streets and gabled houses flooded time and again as the canals overflowed and the unrelenting sea took back the land that had been reclaimed by centuries of hard work. The GEC fled to London.
Not that London itself was immune to the rampaging storms and flooding. But the Thames was easier to control than the North Sea. And most of London was still above even the new, rising sea level.
Meetings of the Global Economic Council were usually restricted to the nine regular members and the privileged few who were invited to explain their positions or plead their causes. The news media were barred from the meetings, and there was no gallery for the public to attend.