Eggett brought up a screen with sonar and other soundings, realtime satellite images, and some taken from drones that braved the atmosphere.
"We lose those frequently, though," he said. "The weather's just too rough. We offer a salvage prize to tourists or staff who find them. There's a moderate amount of exploration going on on the surface."
The images showed the terrain, and color overlays showed ore densities. He spun the image in 3D.
"At this point," he said, "the only delays are material. We need to fabricate the machinery and fission devices. Labor's not a huge problem, though they're not thrilled with the working conditions."
"It is very dreary," Caron said.
Jason asked, "All the equipment is produced here?"
Caron said, "Yes, turbines are not that hard to produce. We even can spin cast them in microgravity. Parts casting is all done down here. It's actually a fairly small operation, possibly two hundred people."
Alex made another mental note. He would assume any weapon or tool could be made here. That put the threat level up.
Caron seemed to want to move quickly herself, which he approved of. She thanked Eggett and made to depart.
Eggett's office was just stuck into a vacant corner, since his work was mostly outside. Around the corner was the large open bay of hydroponics and the farm, under three compartmented domes with collapsible cofferdams between them.
This time they didn't make any announcement, but walked in as a group through heavy double doors with more double doors beyond, to keep the heat and humidity in. They could seal against pressure for a short time, though were probably not completely airtight.
It was several seconds before anyone noticed their presence. That was a point to note. Once someone did, a woman in coveralls hustled over. She was sturdy looking and neat enough, though sweaty and a little grimy.
She squinted slightly, looked at the mass of obvious guards, and said, "Miss Prescot?"
Caron replied, "I am. You must be Doctor Galvin?"
"Yes, ma'am. I wasn't expecting you."
"No worries. I'm just out getting a look at things, and my visits aren't announced for security reasons. Is there anyone who can give us a quick tour?"
"Absolutely. Please follow me. Are your staff coming?"
"Of course."
Alex lead the way with Jason, and the formation loosened just slightly. Galvin led them past huge vats and tanks, with steam and vapor and mist all around. Some items sweated condensation. Most had drip pans to recover the water. There were occasional splotches of mold and mildew, though the place looked to be cleaned regularly.
As they walked, Galvin said, "We're improving food production for more variety. Fruits and vegetables are fairly easy. Grow lights and climate aren't a problem, we just have to worry about possible blights and keep emergency supplies on hand. The density yield is great. Meat, though . . . we have guinea pigs and rabbits fed off the prunings and waste. Chickens are in limited supply as they need too much grain. We're working on a vat grown chicken, and we have beef liver in a large tank. It's trimmed daily for food and for any potential cancerous growths."
They kept walking as Galvin kept pointing and talking.
"Right now we're pretty limited. The food is edible and healthy, but really lacks variety. There's ostrich on occasion, and beef, but those are imported. Shortly, we hope to have different cultures of tissue we can use. It's no longer a money issue, but there are a few issues to work through. That's all grown in these tanks. You can see the matrices a few centimeters in."
Alex didn't find the pulsating pink masses very appetizing. On the other hand, it wasn't likely most people saw this end of it. The huge pen of guinea pigs, rabbits and chickens wasn't too outré, but those were things he thought of as pets or pests, not food.
He thought he might stick to the vegetables for a while. Then he remembered he was one of the elite that got to eat deluxe frozen food from Earth, Grainne and Novaya Rossia.
"Why so much metal framing?" Aramis asked. "I see a lot of aluminum. I know the power's cheap, but wouldn't plastics be more efficient?"
"They would, but plastics require hydrocarbons, which are in very short supply. Other than methane and a few organic chains from atmospheric scooping of Ceridwen, we don't have any. Of course, the waste from tourists helps. They don't realize they're providing a few kilos each that we don't have to pay for."
In fact, they got charged for it. Some of them knew that. Some of them wouldn't grasp it. None of them would care, so Alex just ignored it.
"And that doesn't go with them?"
"We pump the ships before they jump."
"Gotcha."
"Other than that, we're working on things like llama, goat and ostrich. The first two will eat anything. The ostriches are very meaty, but a pain to work with. We'll probably vat raise those if we can work it. We'd also like more lean muscle meat, obviously."
The oxygen plant was a huge series of compartmented tanks, against possible damage and loss. They were gelatinously green with modified algae.
"Despite panics in previous centuries, the biggest and most efficient source of oxygen on Earth is algae, not rainforest. This is good for us, as algae tanks are pretty easy to build. We just bubble the CO two in from the bottom, and oxygen comes out the top. The algae are swept slowly from one end to the other with a mineral nutrient bath, and most of the minerals are locally available. At the dead end, as we call it, the stuff is chopped off, dried up, and then either fed back in as nutrients, used in the fish tanks, or some small amount is pressed into charcoal for the fireplaces."
"There are fireplaces??"
Caron said, "Yes, some of the deluxe suites include fireplaces and cooking grills. I didn't bother with my flat."
She asked, "I assume the steady renewal is to keep it fresh?"
"Yes, and prevent blights. If we need to, we can wipe out a tank in a few minutes with a massive hypochlorite purge, but we can only do that to so many tanks before it's a problem for air supply. We also store enough tanked oxygen for a day for emergencies, every section and suite has emergency supplies, and we can get some off the ships if we need to, or use electrolysis. Diversity is safety."
"Good," Shaman said. "I'm very impressed by the thought and development."
The tour was informative and long, and yet barely scratched the surface. This wasn't just a mine, it was a research facility, a resort, a peek into the future of space habitats, and might solve several problems including pollution, starvation and resource depletion. The Prescot family had certainly earned its trillions. Far from being evil capitalists, the family were contributing massively to the future of the human race. They'd developed several entire industries, and created hundreds of refinements of others, not to mention being the vanguard of development of the mining and smelting techniques. And all that was just lead up to the billions of tonnes of raw metals they shipped out of here. The frothing socialists who hated the wealth simply couldn't, or didn't want to, understand that they benefited directly from all this development, which only came about because Bryan Prescot was willing to stake his existing fortune on a bet some decades back. If it hadn't worked out, their generations old business would have been sold off for a pittance against the debts.
Not that it mattered what he thought. His job was to keep Caron alive and well. It was always easier when you actually liked the principal, though.
That evening, Alex held an executive meeting, with an earbud tuned in to listen to Bart and Shaman and Aramis, who were escorting Caron to a show.
He looked at Elke and Jason, his chosen overkill.
"So, this is the emergency backup plan. If it all goes to hell, what do we need to have and do to keep her alive?"
Jason said, "Oxygen. Weapons to get to transport. Transport."
Elke said, "I expect transport to be out of the question, so oxygen and a hiding hole with good communications."
"Communications will also be problematic."
Alex said, "And that's why we get paid what we do. Let's find solutions."
"Explosive," Elke said. "I can get it from the mine if I need to. No one will know. I want several caches."
Alex nodded. "I agree."
"You do?" she said, sounding incredulous. "I don't have to fight?"
"I rarely disagree with the concept," he said. "I just have to answer higher up. You can probably manage several hundred kilos over a few weeks."
"We may not have a few weeks. I shall arrange it shortly."
"Well, you haven't gotten caught yet, but do be discreet."
"Of course."
Jason said, "We need a cache of good weapons, and I don't care what Prescot thinks. We won't use them unless it hits the fan, but if it does, we need to be able to kill people. This non-lethal stuff is dogshit. If a thug knows he'll survive, he's even less intimidated, especially if angry or well paid. If he knows he'll die, we gain what, thirty percent off the mark?"
"At least," Alex said. "Her father's morally okay with us breaking heads, he's just worried about fallout."
Bart chimed in, "Bah. He is already accused of being a capitalist slavemaster. He may as well get the benefit to go with the slur. Smash heads and don't apologize. They had it coming."
Aramis said, "I'm working on maps. I'll stash some caches in various places without mentioning it. Part of the problem is there's no tactical gear of any kind for sale here. The police and security have a little. There's some basic toxic atmo gear in the excursion points, but nothing we'd need. Can Cady loan us some or order us some? We have to assume we need it fast."
"Good point. I'll follow up on that immediately. We'll have to see what we can get or improvise."
Jason said, "They may be able to fabricate some of that in the mine support shops, if they don't have stuff we can use. I imagine tool belts and such can serve in the meantime. The problem is that it's not very secret."
"Keep me informed. Be very discreet. Outfit with intent to commit extreme violence. I'm going to see if Cady can arrange some other caches."
Elke nodded very seriously. Aramis didn't crack any jokes. That's how Alex knew they were fully in agreement.
The tours, office visits and social events continued endlessly. Caron's coping mechanism was to be too busy to worry. It also seemed that the threat level was way down. It was possible, Alex supposed, that the increasing threats on Earth had been because she was harder to reach here, and the pending departure had made the window small. Still, he was going to treat the threat level here with all the attention it deserved, and some extra.
The tours were as informative for him, in terms of potential threats and exploitable resources, as they were for Caron as a future manager. The technology available was bleeding edge, except when it was outdated due to resources.
Plastics, for example, were expensive and little used. Hydrocarbons to make them had to be scooped from Ceridwen, the sole Jovian-sized gas giant in the outer system. Metal ores and minerals for ceramics were readily available. In that regard, a lot of the structural members and sheathing resembled the 20th and early 21st centuries more than the 23rd.
Caron started reviewing production charts, and took a trip down into the depths of the second pit. Alex, Jason and Elke went with her.
He'd heard from Aramis that Elke was nervous around heights, though the man had admitted it pushed his own limits. The inverse wasn't true, though. Elke was fine in the hole.
Though it was big enough to be more a huge valley than a hole. Still, she didn't seem bothered by the cliffs above and the towering machines, carving, grinding, ripping away at the rock, running it along huge conveyers and up to a processor that steamed even in this atmosphere.
Bart was the better street driver, but Jason excelled at construction and field equipment. The vehicle they were in could best be described as an Armored Personnel Carrier, adapted for mining use. It had clustered trios of wheels which Jason said enabled it to scale boulders and dips "or even climb stairs." It was pressurized and had backup oxygen hoses, assorted commo and imaging gear, plugs for headsets, everything except armor and weapons. Even without armor, the shell was a very tough composite against impacts. Most of it was built here with modern coordinate tools, though the shells were imported from SHI in the Grainne system, due to the lack of local hydrocarbons.
The vehicle was more important to Alex than the mine, but the mine was staggering. From the bottom, the sides rose higher than Everest. The atmospheric pressure was substantially higher down here. Not enough to affect breathing equipment, but there were visible gradients and thick currents. The walls weren't quite round. They were cut straight to aid mining tools. A godawfulmanygon 25 kilometers in diameter.
"Heck of a place you have here," Alex commented.
Caron's voice was a radio-distorted squawk. "The company developed all this technology. Without it, Govannon would not be exploitable. Now that we have the infrastructure, we can replicate and expand across the planet, and gradually increase exploitation of the planetoids. We definitely need more hydrocarbons come from thegasgiant. We need to make our margin fast."
"How do you enforce your patents?"
She nodded. "That's a big problem. Once out of site in a remote system, there's no way other than an inspection to determine what's being used. We'd have to pay for the inspection, then file suits which we'd only win if we proved the intellectual property theft, which gets harder all the time. In effect, we'd lose all we gained in legal fees and overhead. So we're working fast and diligently to recover it all and make a profit, at a rate low enough to inhibit competition. And despite providing the cheapest metal in history, we're considered these evil capitalist bastards." She frowned. "I was happy as a millionaire's daughter. I never wanted all this."
Alex felt sorry for her. She'd gotten through her teen years, was all set to have a prosperous life as an engineer, with nice family holdings, and now had so much she had to fear her own wealth. Her future had been snatched away. Govannon was a technical marvel, and the most opulent, comfortable resort in the universe, and it was her prison.
Nor were they sure even this place was safe.
Chapter 18
A week later they were outside on the upper surface, in what was effectively a tank; a military APC converted to electric power, with solar chargers and a backup capacitor bank. The seats were benches without real padding, no amenities to speak of, and suits were worn. Jason knew that he wasn't the only one who found that to be a comfort. Armored vehicles were cold metal hugs.
Because Caron was aboard, Jason drove. Next to him was John Eggett. His staff were in another vehicle. That was a minor inconvenience, but he'd graciously agreed to the split so Caron could observe.
Eggett said, "We could go another kilometer and be safe, but you wanted a sure distance."
"This should be fine," Alex said via intercom. "Thanks for the help."
"You're welcome. The shot is imminent, but that still means the area has to be cleared, even though it's impossible for someone to be out here. Then all my people will confirm. Then we'll use PA and radio and data network to announce it. Then and only then will I give one more warning, and fire the shot. You should be able to see two heavier concentrations of debris to our ten and two positions."
Caron said, "Thanks. Tell us when. And you say it's safe to have the hatch open?"
"The hatch can be open during the shot. It will have to close immediately afterward. I do recommend against it officially, and I insist you check the mechanism to be sure it will close. I would never allow anyone whose name wasn't Prescot to do this, you understand."
"I do," she said. "Aramis is checking the hatch now."
Aramis was missing sleep to be here, Jason thought. They all wanted to see this. It was one of the few perks of the job, if you liked this sort of thing, which, of course, they did.
Eggett had a manual checklist on paper, and went down the sheet.
"I call clear," he announced. "All units confirm."
He ticked off boxes as each of his units contacted him.
"All units confirmed. Any other units in area, please call. Is there anyone downrange? Is there anyone downrange? Is there anyone downrange?" A klaxon squawked across all frequencies, three times. "The range is clear. Shot is imminent. All personnel check your cover. Seal all commo. Last call for alibis. No alibis. I confirm on shot. Blasting in five, four, three, two, one—"
The ground ahead rose in a dome, glowed white and boiled. Several jets erupted and spewed artificial lava. A ring of ground from the secondaries rose around the center, making it look like a massive meteorite impact.
The ground started to rumble, then a massive Bang! raised them a few centimeters off the ground. Jason twitched, then remembered that was the interference charge to prevent the shockwave bouncing the dome.
Just as Eggett had predicted, the jets and fountains of debris thickened in two directions past the dome. They were parked in a relatively clear spot.
Then the ground started to rumble.
"Close the hatch."
He heard it slam behind, and Elke said something softly in Czech, her voice lilting. It sounded almost sexual, especially with her panting for breath. That was from closing the heavy hatch. Maybe. He almost agreed. Damn, that was a beautiful blast.
They had monitors in back, though he suspected they were all manning the vision blocks, the periscope and the opening behind the driver's compartment. He wasn't going to look away himself.
The ground started to slump, back on itself, then deeper, into a dip, a bowl, a hole, and then collapsed into a kilometer wide crater that blew clouds of dust after the pillar of blast debris.
"Very nice," Jason said.
"Thank you," Eggett replied with a smile. "I even get paid for it. We need to give it a few minutes to stabilize, and I'll check readings. There will be several sets of surveys over the next month, and then proper mining can start."