Mars, Inc. by Ben Bova

Author:Ben Bova [Bova, Ben]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781451639346
Publisher: Baen
Published: 2013-12-03T05:00:00+00:00

“I heard about the accident, of course,” said Bart Rutherford. “Anything I can do to help?”

Thrasher leaned back in his desk chair and stared at the retired engineer’s image on his phone screen. Rutherford was apparently in his home on the Pacific coast, sitting in a big recliner, wearing an unbuttoned flowered shirt. His long blond hair was slicked back, glistening, as if he had just stepped out of a shower, or maybe the surf. Through the window behind him Thrasher could see a clear blue California sky with gulls soaring past.

“The investigating team found the problem,” Thrasher replied. “Bad valve on the fuel injector of the upper stage’s main engine.”

“So I heard,” said Rutherford. “Those injectors are usually very reliable.”

“This one wasn’t.”

Rutherford looked perfectly relaxed and happy. But he asked, “Did your investigating team look into the possibilities of deliberate tinkering?”

“Deliberate . . . you mean sabotage?”

With a shrug, Rutherford said, “Just an idea that popped into my mind.”

“Who in the world would want to sabotage us?” Thrasher asked, yet in his mind a list of suspects sprang up: Greg Sampson, Hamilton Reed, the Chinese . . .

“I’d start by looking at the people who inspected that valve and okayed it.”

“The government investigators have already done that, I’m sure.”

“Maybe,” Rutherford said. “But have they checked the guys’ bank records?”

“That’s ridiculous!” Thrasher snapped. But immediately he added, “I think.”

“Think about it some more, Art.” Rutherford said it mildly, almost as if they were discussing the weather.

Thrasher sat behind his desk, his thoughts tumbling wildly. A saboteur? Somebody working for me deliberately caused the accident?

Rutherford said, “I have a friend who’s a pretty sharp private investigator. Maybe she could help. She’s not connected with you, so she’ll be able to operate pretty freely.”

Shaking his head, Thrasher objected, “I don’t want to start a witch hunt.”

“If you do have a saboteur somewhere in your outfit, he might try to strike again.”

“Or she,” Thrasher muttered.

“Or she.”

“Is this investigator discreet? Can he be trusted?”

“She,” said Rutherford. “She’s handled several insurance cases. Maybe I can arrange a meeting with her for you.”

Still feeling uncertain about it, Thrasher heard himself say, “Okay, Bart. Have her talk directly to me. Nobody else, not even my secretary.”

Rutherford nodded solemnly. “Will do.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, by the way,” the engineer said, his face lighting up, “I’ve had some conversations with the Astrolaunch people. And Boeing. They’re both working on a hypersonic passenger-carrying transport, but at a low level. Just computer designs and simulations. Too big an investment for them to do much more.”

Glad to be dealing with something more concrete than sniffing around for saboteurs, Thrasher asked, “And?”

“I’ve accepted a consulting job with Astrolaunch, to see how their existing orbital launching hardware might be modified to a commercial surface-to-surface transport.”

“Good.”

“Boeing’s tough competition, you know.”

“I don’t mind having two outfits working toward the same goal. Competition can be healthy.”

Rutherford shrugged nonchalantly. “Easy for you to say, Art. No matter who loses this competition, you’ll win. Houston to anywhere on Earth in less than an hour.

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