The smile was wide and genuine, and the blue eyes beneath the iron-gray hair twinkled with humor and intelligence. I liked him immediately.
"So," he boomed when we were seated. "I gather you've come up with a new flavor for us to look at. Don't worry, it happens all the time. If it's good, we'll buy it."
I shook my head, grinning. When I mentioned that we represented the Star Man, he straightened. "The Star Man drinks tea? Well, of course he does. Everyone does."
I chuckled. "Actually, Messer Carver drinks mostly something called 'caf'. He has yet to find anyone on Haven who likes the stuff. But we're here to offer you another drink. Something quite different. Can we get some cups?"
Jemson laughed aloud. "When you run a tea company, there's always hot water and cups." He blew into a speaking tube, and asked his secretary to bring in hot water and cups. I told him we wouldn't need the hot water, but he just shrugged. I suspect he couldn't imagine how we could produce a drink without hot water. Ellie pulled a vacuum flask from her bag. Its contents would, of course, be the same temperature as when the autochef had produced it two days ago. She poured the brown liquid into the cups the secretary had also brought.
Jemson was amazed that the choc was still too hot to drink. While waiting for it to cool I told him that this choc had been produced by mixing choc powder with milk. "We also have a sample made with water, so you can sample both versions. But choc can also be produced and used as a powder and even as a solid that is often sold as a snack or treat."
Jemson raised the cup cautiously to his mouth. He sipped, and after a moment, a wide grin arose on his face and he took a larger, less cautious sip.
He stared at the cup. "Amazing!" He said. He took another large sip. "It's not a tea, of course. but whatever it is, it's wonderful. Of course, it comes from the stars. Tell me about it."
I smiled. "It's made from the roasted beans of a tree called a 'cocoa tree'. The drink itself is called 'chocolatl' or some variation of that. Mostly, it's just called 'choc' throughout man-settled space."
Jemson waved a dismissing hand. "We're on Haven. I guess we can call it whatever we want."
I nodded. "I'm certain of it. But the name is unimportant. One of the reasons the drink is so popular is that cocoa plants are one of those that have been genetically modified to work in a starship's atmosphere plant, so they're very widespread."
Jemson waved his hands in the air. "Whoa! Hold on! Can you explain that in Standard?"
I'd forgotten that gene biology had not redeveloped on Haven. Not yet. "Genes are the parts of a living thing's cells that determine its characteristics. Your genes, for example determine the color of your eyes and hair, as well as everything else about you.
"Among the stars, we've learned to modify genetic structures. In the case of the cocoa tree, they essentially speeded its life cycle. You see, starships depend on plants to refresh their atmospheres. The plants consume carbon dioxide and produce oxygen, as well as provide food products. The ones Messer Carver has available have been modified to grow hydroponically. That means they grow in tanks, without soil."
Jemson's brows lifted. "Without soil? How is that possible?"
I shrugged. "The tanks are filled with nutrients that the plants can absorb directly. At any rate, in the case of the cocoa tree, the trees don't live quite as long as their planet-bound relatives, but they produce more nuts, and more often, and consume high levels of carbon dioxide. Of course, in the hydroponics farm of a starship, their main purpose is to complete the carbon dioxide to oxygen conversion more efficiently. The choc is just a side benefit."
Jemson shook his head. He was looking confused. "A side benefit? I don't understand. What does this have to do with Dr. Aram's? It sounds like you should be talking to a biology lab."
I smiled. "Actually, sire, that's what I'm doing. Oh, I could give some samples to a lab, and they would spend years being fascinated. But Messer Carver's interest is in helping Haven develop while earning a living for himself. Choc could revolutionize the drink industry on Haven, and that kind of economic development would benefit the whole planet.
"He would like Dr. Aram's to join him in a research project. Of course, we know that the trees can be grown hydroponically, and there are people on Haven working on hydroponics as we speak. But Messer Carver wants to find out if these genetically-modified trees can be grown in Haven soil."
Ellie rose and refilled Jemson's now-empty cup before digging into her bag to bring out the book we'd had printed on cocoa production. "This book contains all the information about the cultivation of cocoa on a planetary surface, as well as the procedure for processing it into choc. If it seems desirable later, we can produce information on growing it hydroponically."
Jemson flipped quickly through the book's pages, stopping occasionally at a picture. He looked up, eyes narrow. "I still don't get it," he said. "What's in it for the Star Man?"
I smiled. "Messer Carver will live out his life on Haven. To do so comfortably, he needs to earn a living. Dr. Aram's has tea farms and fruit plantations all over the southern part of West continent. One of the first things that book mentions is that the cocoa tree is a tropical or semitropical plant, as are teas and many juices. Also, Dr. Aram's is one of the largest sellers of teas and juices on Haven. You have the infrastructure and the distribution network to ensure that choc is a success.
"Messer Carver is offering seeds and seedlings of the plants, and these books to get you started. For those, he asks ten thousand crowns. They will come with a money-back guarantee if it proves impossible to grow the plants in soil, although in that case, you may prefer to investigate hydroponics."
"Ten thousand isn't much," Jemson said doubtfully.
I nodded. "I know. Messer Carver is well aware that you will end up investing many thousands, perhaps millions, in this project. He is making the initial purchase nominal because of the hook in the bait."
Jemson's face cleared. "Ah! Now we come to it! Why are you telling the fish about the hook?"
"Because Messer Carver wants this to be a fruitful relationship, not just a one-off deal. Messer Carver will ask for a 5 percent share of the net profits of choc, if any. Alternatively, he suggests you might prefer to form a subsidiary company for this purpose, in which case he will accept 5 percent of the shares in the choc company. He might also be persuaded to help fund your expansion, for a reasonable return in payment or stock.
"And finally," I added, "the hook. You must agree to release all your research documents into the public domain planet-wide; but only after you are actively selling the product. At that time, Messer Carver will also begin selling the seeds and books on the open market. In other words, sire, you get only a few years' head start before your competitors begin growing their own cocoa plants. Of course, that's plenty of time to become established as the 'original' brand. The deal will also include permission to use Messer Carver's name in your advertising, though he will retain a veto on specific uses.
"There will be no 'gotchas' here, sire." I shrugged. "Once you bring in a crop, you also bring in additional seed, so Messer Carver's seed sale will obviously be a one-time affair, unless the seeds fail to grow, in which case he will provide either a refund or information on hydroponic cultivation. As I said, Messer Carver wants to promote the development of Haven while earning a living. We would not only be producing a new flavor. We would be founding a new industry on Haven."
Ellie dug into her bag again, and brought out a thick envelope. I passed it to Jemson. "I can't leave the book, of course," I said. "This is a summary of our proposal, and a sample contract. And in your outer office is a canister containing ten kilos of choc powder, and a bag containing two dozen bars of the solid form. By the way, details of all these processes are spelled out in the book."
I shrugged. "As I said, no 'gotchas' here. Please take some time to have your lawyers check the contract and suggest any changes they feel necessary. But the best sales tool is the powder. Everyone who tastes choc loves it.
Don't forget to have your people try both the milk and water versions. And I suspect the bars will be a big hit.
"We will be returning to Firstlanding in thirty days, and Messer Carver would like your answer by then. We will have a lawyer available to assist with the contracts."
Jemson nodded. "And if the answer is 'no'?"
I shrugged. "Then we will approach your closest competitor. Messer Carver is going to make someone rich. Or richer. I'd like to see that person be you."
I was encouraged. Jemson's welcome was much warmer than that we'd received in Cellia. He had also emptied our flasks of both the water and milk versions of the drink. I was sure we'd be hearing from Messer Jemson.
Our reception at Universal Chemical the next morning was enthusiastic. Of course, the chemical industry on Haven had been heavily involved in the University's hydroponics project, providing the chemicals necessary to restore the atmosphere plant.
But that had been the University's project, not mine, and I had made no effort to profit from it. In fact, I hadn't been involved in the negotiations at all. Toray had some professional arm-twisters for that. Still, Ellie's mention of our representing the Star Man when she requested the meeting guaranteed a receptive, attentive audience. It seemed that Universal Chemical had received only a small percentage of the hydroponics chemical business, and their noses were still a bit out of joint about it. But they didn't dare refuse us an interview.
Part of my problem here was that I had no idea what I was talking about. Okay, we could provide the chemical formulas necessary to produce the bra fabric. But how far along in the project should we involve the chemical companies? Should they just be providing barrels of liquid to be processed into "cloth" by a fabric company or the bra company? Or should they end up providing huge spools of "thread"? Or the spun fabric, ready to sew into a bra? I was also worried because this was actually Heidi's project, not mine, and I wanted to do well by her.
We were shown into a "conference room" with over a dozen people anxiously awaiting our arrival. It was pretty intimidating to a simple cargo monkey. The President, or "CEO" as they called him, introduced himself as Kesh Boter. He was a jovial man, not fat, but he soon would be, if he didn't take action. He was very urbane, with a small, neatly-trimmed mustache.
"Your secretary mentioned that you would be discussing a rather large-scale enterprise," Boter explained. "Of course we're very interested in being a part of producing the wonders the Star Man has brought us. This is, well, I guess you could call it our 'Executive Planning' board. Since it is they who will be deciding whether or not to become involved in your project, I thought they should be involved in the early stages."
I nodded. "And your courtesy is greatly appreciated, sire Boter," I lied. I hate speaking before groups. I was actually surprised I was able to get through that sentence without choking up. I took several deep breaths and forced myself to relax as Boter returned to his seat in the head of the table.
"I'm sure many of you are wondering why I have a female assistant in a business matter. Well, you see, the end product is aimed at women. Your word for the end product is the same as mine: 'brassiere'."
There were smiles around the table and a low muttering. "Yes," I continued. "You're all familiar with them; your wives wear them daily. But I've only brought a few samples of all three stages of the chemical product and the end product, the bra." I looked pointedly around the table. "All of you here are male; I doubt you can understand the actual significance of this end product. I wonder if it might be possible to get a female employee to volunteer to try on one of our samples? My assistant, here, will help her with details of sizing, etcetera, and there will be no need for public display of the bra itself; its advantages will be obvious to all of us, and even more obvious to the woman wearing it."
There was a lot of good-natured and slightly bawdy banter as those around the table shouted suggestions to Boter of names, and of ways to approach the volunteer. He flushed, but grinned along with the others.
"I think I shall simply approach Tana, my secretary," he announced with massive dignity. "I don't think she'll slap my face." Laughter and catcalls were heard, as well as comments about Tana that made Ellie blush. "I'll have to do this in person;" Boter resumed. "I doubt she'd believe it over a speaking tube. Besides, she wouldn't have the chance to slap my face."
A smiling Ellie offered to accompany him to explain and help the volunteer with fitting the garment, and he nodded gratefully. He returned a few moments later with a relieved air. Apparently Boter and Ellie had been persuasive.
As he resumed his seat, I suppressed a nod of satisfaction. I would have a few minutes to explain about the fabric. I passed the samples of both the fabric and the jar containing the liquid synthetic. I had to explain what a 'synthetic' was; but when I did, there was excitement all around the table.
"The contents of the jar and the fabric are exactly the same," I explained, not quite truthfully; Lisa had added something to keep the liquid from solidifying into a solid mass. Still, with that single exception, my words were true. The samples passed from hand to hand around the table. The liquid aroused faint interest; a number of the men opened the lid and touched or smelled the stuff before passing the jar on. The fabric, though, almost caused fights. Everyone wanted to examine it closely, to stretch it and watch it return to normal, and all were reluctant to pass it along. I could see several hands opening and closing as their owners wished for a viewer uh 'Microscope".
The discussions and arguments were still going on when the women returned. Surprisingly, Tana, Boter's attractive, rather buxom middle-aged secretary, was wearing the bra on the outside of her blouse. She was blushing furiously, and Ellie hovered protectively over her. Still, she managed to display and explain how the stretchable fabric made movement much more comfortable than conventional Haven bras. I noticed, though, that her attention was mostly centered on Boter, and her most enthusiastic demonstrations were delivered in front of him. I suspected that an office romance had more to do with convincing her to participate, but Ellie explained later that she'd had to agree to give Tana the bra before she would agree.
We passed a sample bra around the table, along with an Haven design. Suddenly it was the men's turn to blush and handle the things gingerly. But the differences and benefits were obvious to even the most chauvinistic among them; several offered to buy our samples for their wives.
With the product and its advantages established, I launched into my sales routine. When I started explaining about the non-exclusivity, Boter interrupted, frowning. "I don't understand. The chancellor …" his voice trailed off as I shook my head.
"The chancellor, and the University, have nothing to do with this deal," I interrupted. "Messer Carver's only connection with the University is his contract to provide transportation services, and the fact that as Captain of Adventurer, he provides advisory services.
"But Messer Carver also owns another starship, Startrader. All the materials and information you're being offered belong to Messer Carver, not the University, and not Haven."
There were nods around the table, and Boter's face relaxed into a smile. "Excellent. Those people from the University demanded bribes; well, they called them 'contributions' or 'endowments', to do business with them."
I shook my head. "That's not business, that's blackmail. No, sire, Messer Carver is hoping for a long and profitable relationship with your company. Such a relationship cannot be based on blackmail or other deceit."
Boter nodded. "So, what are you proposing?"
I frowned. "Well, I'm afraid I'm going to need your help with that. Messer Carver has already entered into negotiations with a lingerie company for manufacture of the bras; but they need someone to supply the synthetic material and threads."
I explained the options; they could produce only the barrels of chemicals, to be processed into thread and material by someone else, or they could expand their operations, and produce the stretchable materials and threads, elim
inating the "middle man". "Frankly, Messer Carver would prefer the latter," I continued. "He might even be persuaded to assist with financing the expansion."
The discussions went on for several hours as members of Boter's 'Executive Planning' board raised questions, concerns, and even suggestions; but by the time we were able to escape, it was obvious that the company was very interested. Toward the end, most of the discussion centered on the opportunities and risks of expansion.
Our timing was good. Alerted by radio, we were able to get to the airship field in time to meet Heidi. By the time we got back to the lighthouse, we were exhausted. It had been a busy few days, and we could barely manage to wait until night to lift off and head for orbit. Ellie wasn’t finished, though, She spent the night in the hotel in Firstlanding. In the morning she would board an airship headed for Tarrant, the capital city of Westin.
Heidi and I would make ourselves obvious both in orbit and in the Zone until Ellie had our ‘ranch’ set up, and had arranged our appointments. The preparations for final activation were extensive and exhausting; and I still had to worry about escaping for a trip to Westin. The constant activity was becoming wearying. I had to remind myself that Tarrant was our last stop on this whirlwind business tour. At least for a month.
Of all the nations' capitals, Tarrant, in Westin, was hardest to reach inconspicuously by lander. Most of the settled area of Westin was landlocked; the sea was over two thousand kilometers to the west, and the 'unexplored wilderness' was actually sparsely occupied by pioneer types, most of whom had hand-cranked radio transceivers, on which they talked and gossiped incessantly.
Frontiersmen are careful observers: their lives depend upon it. And I couldn't risk having reports surface of large, silent objects flying overhead, blotting out the stars, or black against one of the moons. So, as with Cellia, I had to sneak in through Cornwell and follow the mountain range north. But now I had to find a wilderness area over which I could swing west to reach our ranch, forty kilometers outside Tarrant.
Stranded on Haven Page 27
