April 4: A Different Perspective

by Mackey Chandler

  "Well, you are certainly playing with the big boys," Irwin told him. That sounded like a compliment, he was pretty sure.

  "Mr. Singh gave it to me as a personal loan," Eric told him. "He said he liked how I thought and he'd take the risk I might fail," he explained.

  "The thing is, Platinum has shown a steady climb in value, in both USNA dollars and EuroMarks. I'd be perfectly happy to cash this out at today's spot price, but I don't think I'd be serving your interests to do so," he admitted. "Right now twenty-five grams of Platinum has a spot price value, per my screen, of sixteen-thousand-seven-hundred-seventy-eight dollars USNA," he read off. "I suggest you deposit this in a Solar denominated account and we will hold it for you by serial number. We will loan you funds to a dollar account with this as collateral."

  "So I'll still own this coin?" Eric asked, all smiles. That sounded good to him.

  "Yes, but it will have a lien on it. If you lose money instead of showing a profit and you can't make up the amount you borrowed against it, we would sell it and only give you the difference. We bankers are very heartless and unyielding about that, I hope you understand." He was joking a little, but just to soften the point, he was serious.

  "Well, sure. I understand. So do you put, uh, the spot price you called it, in my dollar account?"

  "No, we never loan the full value of the collateral. What if Platinum goes down to fifteen-thousand dollars USNA tomorrow? That leaves us in a scary position doesn't it? and you want some safety built in for the nature of the loan." He was obviously enjoying teaching Eric these things, Mo realized. Well, Eric was making it enjoyable, listening intently.

  "Have you ever run a business before and had to plan and deal with all these things?"

  "No sir," Eric said, humbled again.

  "Well then, we have to take that into account," Irwin said spreading his hands like it was obvious. "However if Jeff Singh says he likes your business plan I'm not about to second guess him when he is assuming the risk. The Singh clan is very well regarded on Home and you are well connected to have his approval. I'll advance you up to twelve-thousand dollars USNA, in a draw account against the Solar. I'd give you two other pieces of advice. One, you pay interest only on the portion you draw. So don't ask for more dollars in the account than you really need at the moment, to keep your expenses down. and secondly, most new businesses fail. Sometimes the best sounding ideas just don't work for no rational reason at all. Sometimes things that look incredibly stupid to me take off and make money hand over fist. But if you see that the trend is down and you are steadily losing money, don't wait until you have run through all your funds to bail out. A great deal of business smarts is knowing when to cut your losses and preserve what funds you have left for your next try. People who keep trying generally do find a winner sooner or later."

  "Thank you, I'm going to be buying things from a lot of people. Will they want cash or should I get a card like my dad?"

  "Most people here do a transfer with their pad. Everybody wears spex," he said, touching his, "but they are awkward doing a cash transfer. If you are doing business a pad is so much more handy, to just turn to show them stuff on the screen, instead of fiddling around getting a transfer to their spex. I'd suggest getting a pad too, as a necessary business expense."

  "Do people buy new pads all the time like they do spex?" Eric asked, suddenly even more interested and attentive.

  "Oh, yeah. As soon as a new port comes into common use, their old one can't handle a new operating system, or needs more memory. Some people change pads like they do footies."

  "Would you keep a secret for me? Can I ask my banker to do that?"

  "You certainly can," Irwin said. It was his turn to be surprised. "I have what they call a fiduciary responsibility to you. I'm obligated as your banker not to do anything that would harm your business or your money. You need to look that word up on the net and read until you understand it. Now there might be other people you deal with who don't have that duty to you. If you want you can get them to sign what is called a nondisclosure agreement, but I'll tell you right now, what you get people to sign doesn't mean much, unless you already know you can trust their word without a signed agreement."

  Eric nodded seriously. "Thank you, I appreciate knowing this stuff. I intend to buy old spex. Jeff says just about everybody has a couple pairs jammed in a drawer or a bin somewhere. and now, from what you said about pads, I bet there are a ton of them sitting unused. I'll check, but I bet they cost a lot more down on Earth."

  "The chips are made up here, that's why they are cheaper."

  "Do you have an old pad at home you want to sell, that's good enough for me to use for business?" Eric asked.

  "No, but I have one in the bottom drawer right here, that's about a year, or a year and a half out of date. Would you like it for a hundred dollars?"

  "I'd love it for a hundred dollars and you set it up for me and show me how to do transfers," Eric told him.

  "Good boy, you asked for an added value. But next time offer eighty dollars and the extra work too. All I can do is say no and I might have counter offered ninety," he explained.

  Eric nodded at the lesson, with a canny expression.

  * * *

  "It's fit to you, so when you are done working for me consider it part of your severance pay," Jeff told Mo. "At ten hours a day, it has a projected service life of six years, so it should have lots of good hours left in it when we are done. If you go in and out two or three times a day it drops the hours a little and requires more service."

  "It doesn't look like the ones the guys outside Home wear. I saw some of them working yesterday."

  "Oh, those are hard suits. They are pretty heavy, with a high center of gravity. Even in lunar gravity the momentum can be hard to handle. But they are safer doing heavy construction and they stay flexible at higher pressures than a soft suit. The ones you saw are powered significantly too. But you need special seats to use them in a ship or rover. One of those hard shells can go over a hundred-fifty thousand."

  This suit will run forty-seven thousand dollars USNA. Your suit is already a little more advanced than mine. I don't feel any big urge to upgrade, but your air-pack will run a couple more hours and it is more resistant to cuts. It's safer. The suit will call for help if you stop moving for thirty seconds and your heartbeat or respiration indicates distress. It can even activate a built in defibrillator if you need it."

  The gloves and helmet faceplate lock closed when it's in vacuum and it has tourniquet seals at ankle and wrist instead of just elbows and knees. The sole is a shallow chevron tread instead of lugs, it doesn't hold regolith and get packed up with it."

  "Everything is expensive up here!" Mo said.

  "Pretty much. Except a few odd things. You can buy a course of drug treatment specific for colon cancer for seventy dollars USNA. Same drug down on Earth they charge you near ten-thousand. But you need a lot more cheeseburgers and footies than drugs."

  "You need to practice putting the suit on until you can do it half asleep, with your air swirling away and get it perfect every time. It doesn't take much of a hole to take the pressure below breathable levels in seconds in a small ship like we fly. Most of us won't even take a helmet off in flight. We just open the face plate. I lost pressure in the Happy Lewis a few weeks back and it was nice to just reach up and slap the faceplate home. We were spinning and maneuvering and if I'd had to get a helmet on, well, I might not be here."

  "Is this something common?" Mo asked alarmed. "What sort of a failure took your pressure down that fast?"

  "No, not common at all. That's the only time I've experienced it. We had just experienced a little run in with a USNA spacecraft in lunar orbit and were asked to make a pass on their field at Armstrong and survey what else they had there." Jeff hesitated. "Well, actually Heather asked us to "return the favor" and they'd just cluster bombed our field, so we planned on doing something. But when we came in pretty low and close, they burned a hole through us with
a laser. Pretty well opened her up from one frame rail to the other. There was no reason left at that point to hold back, so April's Grandpa had the conn and he'd already designated their one ship on the field to eat a mini-missile, but when the suckers shot a hole through us he laid a ten kiloton missile on their field building, housing the targeting radar. It's not real smart to shoot at him. He didn't get old and grey by hesitating when things go bad."

  Mo stared at him in horror, mouth hanging open.

  "That's why the Happy ran back to the moon suddenly the other day. The USNA sent another spacecraft to the moon and we were concerned they might get aggressive with Central again. But they just landed at Armstrong and then took off for the French habitat. Thankfully it was nothing to worry about after all."

  "You destroyed a USNA spacecraft and bombed a surface facility in Armstrong?"

  "Well, we ended up destroying three USNA spacecraft that day. The stupid suckers kept shooting at us. What could we do? That's all they had on the moon, three, so obviously they had to stop."

  "Isn't Home in a state of war with North America after that?"

  "This was at Heather's real estate venture, Central, it really isn't Home. Although if they had kept it up the Assembly might take a dim view of them continuing to shoot at Home citizens, wherever they might happen to be. But we have never gone before the Assembly and asked their help. None of us really want war. It's bad for business and I don't think they realize how badly it could get out of hand, if they want a real war of survival type contest. So we really haven't needed to bother the Assembly. We'd just as soon keep it a private matter."

  "A private matter," Mo mumbled in shock.

  "Heather was worried about having proper authority to deal with such things, she was concerned she'd be labeled a pirate or criminal, so the refugees, the folks who fled to her place from Armstrong, asked to swear fealty to her. Since she is a sovereign now she can properly deal with another state if they attack."

  "They asked?"

  "Innovative wasn't it?"

  "You-are-all-insane," Mo declared flatly with utter certainty. Unthinking and unconcerned how he was addressing his new boss, he was so rattled.

  "A lot of people think so," Jeff agreed, immune to offense. "But sane, or flipped out totally off her nut, she still has hundreds of nuclear equivalent weapons and accurate, robust, delivery systems. The really smart thing to do, if any of them demonstrated any smarts, would be to act very politely with her. If too much grief comes at her again out of Armstrong she's likely to walk a grid of tactical weapons across them and make it a parking lot as they say. She can easily do so from Central. I'd hate to see that happen."

  "Where did she get those sort of weapons?" Mo asked. "We heard nothing about it on the news."

  "We make them ourselves. It's certainly not my business to refute or enlarge on North American news," Jeff asserted. "We just sort of assume that anybody bright enough to make it up here knows their news is being managed. But you look like you are having a hard time absorbing this. Why don't we go get some lunch and take a little break? You'll find it easier to get your mind back on the suit after a decent lunch. I tell you what, the other cafeteria for the working folks is closer. Let's go there and you can check out a new place. You might even like to bring your wife down to this end sometime, for a little change of pace."

  "Yes, please, let's take a break," Mo agreed, glassy-eyed.

  * * *

  "Mr. Hall, do you have a moment?" Eric asked, standing before his desk again.

  "Of course, Eric. What can I do for you?"

  "Do you have the papers we signed the other day?"

  "Certainly. I'll have my assistant bring them to the desk," he said and sent a text off. "They are identical to your copies you know. Is there a question on any of them you want explained?"

  "No, well one question, but I have my hanko now and I would just feel better if I use it on them. It seems like all my stuff should be signed the same."

  "That's fine." A younger man laid a folder on the edge of his desk and departed without comment. Hall pulled the summary sheet and signature card out and slid them across the desk.

  Eric looked at how Hall's company hanko imprint was positioned and with exaggerated care put his mark beside his own signature the same way. He looked very satisfied and tilted the paper to see the rainbow effect of the printed symbol, before giving them back.

  "There was a question?" Irwin reminded him.

  "Oh yeah! We didn't really talk about the interest on the money I get in the draw account. I saw at home it says three percent. Dad said that sounded pretty good. But I wonder, is that what everybody pays? and if I want to borrow more sometime, can I negotiate that just like the cost of a set of spex?"

  "That is a very good question. Interest rates are much more negotiable the bigger the loan. I have to decide how much risk the bank is taking again, so the collateral is very important. Not only how much it is worth but how easy to sell." He put his hands together in front of him in a steeple and got into lecture mode.

  "I didn't talk to you about interest rates, because you are getting the best rate I allow the bank to offer right now. If a fellow came in and wanted a loan against a diamond ring with a six carat stone, I would be very cautious. It might be very valuable, but very few people have the money free to buy such a luxury. I might not be able to find anyone on Home who wanted to buy such a large valuable stone. I might have to send it down to Earth and whoever sold it for me down there would want a fee to handle it for me. and just the fact I send it off out of my control is another risk factor. I'd have to pay to insure it."

  Eric nodded his understanding. It made sense and Irwin explained things well.

  "But your Solar coin? Platinum is sold every day, in every country on Earth. There are markets open somewhere twenty-four hours a day to buy or sell it and there are even people who will write you insurance against the price going down too far. Platinum and gold are among the best things you can own for collateral. I'd charge the same three percent for a loan against a London Good Delivery Bar," he assured Eric. "Which is the ultimate banker to banker money."

  "What is that?" Eric asked scrunching his nose up. It sounded weird.

  "Come with me," Irwin offered, smiling. He led the way into the vault. In the back was a plain featureless brushed steel door. He laid his hand on a touch pad to the right of it.

  "Irwin Hall and customer Eric Pennington. I am not under coercion and nothing will be added or removed this access," he said to the computer, that must be listening somewhere. It analyzed his voice and hand and believed him. There was a sound of gears whirring faintly and the door opened rather slowly compared to most powered doors. Inside was anticlimactic, a plain room with simple shelves and two chairs with a fold down table.

  "Sit," Irwin told him, pointing to the far chair. Eric did, but watched closely.

  Hall pulled on some gloves from a box of them, went to the shelves and picked up a gold bar. It wasn't all that big, a little longer than the zucchini bread his mom made, but not as tall. It was obviously heavy though, Irwin needing the taper built into it to pick it up. That's why it was small face down, Eric realized.

  Irwin nodded at the table and Eric pulled it down between the chairs. Irwin laid the bar on the table and sat in the other chair.

  "Do I need gloves too, if I want to pick it up?"

  "Nah, everybody should experience that much gold in their bare hands at least once in life. Just don't dig your finger nails in. It's so soft it's possible to mar it and scrape away slivers under your nails. I put it on the table because it can get away from you. It can break your toes quite easily if you drop it."

  "Oh man," Eric said. "It is really heavy." He kept both elbows on the table for leverage to heft it. The face was stamped with an oval and some funny letters, the N and the F backwards from English. It also said 2058 – 12.440 Kg - .998.

  "That's a London Good Delivery Bar," Irwin informed him, grinning.

 
"How much is it worth?" Eric asked.

  "Call it ten million dollars, USNA. Plus or minus a bit."

  "Wow, who owns it?" Eric asked, big-eyed.

  "Well now, you want me to keep your secrets. Don't you think I should do the same for the owner of this bar?" he asked. "And you should keep my secret too," he pointed out. "If nobody knows we have this bar in here, they can't be plotting to come steal it."

  "I didn't think," Eric admitted, blushing furiously. "I won't mention it," he promised.

  "I thought you'd enjoy seeing that," Irwin said, grinning. He got the bar and put it back. "Is there anything else we can do for you today Mr. Pennington?"

  "No," Eric said, folding the table back up. "And thanks a lot."

  * * *

  "I don't get it," Fredrick complained. "I can see this is useful. and certainly they are delighted to have somebody else do it, but why you?" He handed out the electrostatic filter to Silverson. It was nasty with black grime, some of which fell away in little crumbs. Some filters were brown, some gray. All disgusting. He had a big smear of it under one eye, like a pro football player who forgot one side.

  They would bag the unit and when they had a cart full, take them down and hand wash them gently with a big soft brush. It usually took three times before they rinsed clean. Except the one near the deep fat fryer in the kitchen. That one had taken all morning. The cheerful maintenance tech, who had shown them how to do the first one, had explained there were four-hundred-eleven of them in the habitat. That meant by the time they got to the last one, the first would be ready to be serviced again. You had to test them for spark-over voltage when they dried and run a log on them too.

  "I'm the only one who spears French, so I'm your baby-sitter and I get to call for help if you get in trouble," Silverson explained. "Just keep at those language lessons, so we can advance to something better than this," he pleaded.