The Lagrangists. Mack Reynolds

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СКАЧАТЬ the best hairdressers, the best dressing houses of the world to enhance her brunette beauty, her Mediterranean complexion, her natural-red and generous mouth, her assiduously-maintained figure.

      “Good,” she said. “You’ve been on this for the past two weeks. I’ve already formed my own opinions but I know nothing about the technology. Now tell me: what effect will this Lagrange Five Project finally have on International Diversified?”

      The older of the two, his attaché case on his lap, was deferential. He was a milquetoast type, a gutless wonder. It took a little imagination to picture him as a top economist and even more to picture him as a member of the families. He wasn’t even particularly dark of complexion; but then, it had been a long time since all the family members had come from Sicily; there had been some cross-jostling in the four-posters since then.

      He said, “Eventually, it will mean our ruin.”

      “Why?” she said, irritation in her voice. “We’re adaptable. We have adapted for the better part of five centuries. If something sours, such as Prohibition and later the labor unions, we move into something else.”

      The other of the two, who was somewhat younger and not quite so scholarly looking, and was evidently not quite so impressed by her, said, “There’ll probably be no place else to move. This is going to be a revolution eventually. It’ll make the industrial revolution look like a tea party, so far as consequences to our whole way of life are concerned.”

      “Aren’t you going a bit overboard?” Sophia Anastasis said coldly. “I don’t appreciate dramatics in my office. I can go to the theatre to watch Tri-Di, Zen forbid.”

      “No,” he said firmly. “I’m not being dramatic.”

      She looked at him. “A good many of our resources are in gambling, resorts, entertainment. For all practical purposes, we own Nueva Las Vegas, Reno, and for that matter, Nevada and the important part of Florida. I do not even mention the Bahamas, Malta and Macao.”

      The first of the two said, apologetically, “Cousin Sophia, even Island One, which will be operative in no time at all, will be a potential resort such as never been known—and there have been resorts since the days of Pompeii.”

      “Bullshit.”

      “No.” He shook his head emphatically. “Think about it. Perfect climate, never too hot, never too cold. Perfect swimming in their artificial lakes. Never too much sun, never too little. The food they are going to produce up there will be perfection beyond anything ever turned out, even in France and Italy. The fishing will be unbelievable. They’re going to stock those lakes—and later, when the larger Islands get underway, the rivers—with the best game on Earth. Imagine fresh-water versions of Marlin and Atlantic Permit! They’re going to have sports such as we can hardly conceive of. The nearer you get to the axis of one of those Islands, the less the gravity becomes. In other words, you’ll be able to fly, for all practical purposes. The sexual sport in low gravity will intrigue every horny arthritic on Earth.”

      “Those aren’t the only things people go to resorts for,” she said sourly.

      “No,” he agreed. “Suppose that you’re retired and with a heart problem, or various other health problems which a low gravity would help. Who would want to go to Acapulco or the Bahamas? So far as health is concerned, they’re not going to import any bugs up there. It will be all but sterile. Disease free, for all practical purposes.”

      “But the cost!”

      “Eventually, it’s going to be cheaper to travel to the space colonies that it is, say, from New York to the French Riviera. And once there? Prices are going to be low. What’s there to keep them high? Food production will be a fraction of that on Earth; energy and raw materials will be all but free. Everything that can be automated will be. Anybody retiring would be a fool to go to one of our expensive resorts, rather than a space Island. Every one of those space colonies, even the first experimental one, will be a paradise compared to one of our resorts.”

      “Gambling?” she said, her voice almost hoarse.

      The milquetoast one said, apologetically, “Cousin Sophia, there is no particular reason why they can’t open casinos the same as we do.”

      “But… well, sports.”

      “I don’t know about Island One, which will be comparatively small,” the younger one said, “But when we get to Island Three or Four, they’re talking about areas involving millions of people and square miles of area. They’re going to have mountains and rivers. There’s no reason why they can’t have skiing, for instance. It’s hard to think of a sport that isn’t more practical in one of those Islands, unless, perhaps, big game hunting.”

      “There’s precious little of that left on Earth,” she said unhappily.

      She thought for a few minutes; then, “Why can’t we buy in? We could liquidate our resort properties here on Earth and start new ones up above.”

      The younger one said, “It’s all, thus far, a United States of the Americas governmental project. What might develop in the future is up for grabs, but I doubt if those colonists are going to put up with laissez faire capitalism. We don’t even have classical capitalism here on Earth any more. We call it Meritocracy, or People’s Capitalism, or whatever. Largely, it’s actually a form of State Capitalism in most countries, the government either owning outright most basic industries, or strongly controlling them. Corporations such as our International Diversified Industries are hard put to hang on.”

      She grunted assent to that and remained silent for another time. They dared not interrupt her.

      Finally, she said, “Very well, that will be all. I had already largely come to the same conclusions. If the Lagrange Five Project is allowed to continue, it will be a blow to the families from which we might never recover.” She eyed them coldly. “But now I wish to remind you that you are under your oath of Omerta, the code of honor and silence. None of what you have been involved in investigating must leak. Your oath of Omerta.”

      Both blanched as they came to their feet.

      The gutless one blurted, “Yes, Cousin Sophia, that is obvious.”

      They left, a bit more precipitously than was ordinarily called for.

      She thought for another long moment, breathing deeply, before turning to a phone screen on her desk. She flicked it on and said, “Let me talk to Caesar. Scrambled, of course, and on our organizational tightbeam.”

      Shortly a face faded in. It was that of a man possibly in his seventies and gone over to fat, with protruding eyes.

      He said, “Sophia! It is a long time, cara mia. You remain beautiful, but then, hah, you were a beauty since you were in your cradle.”

      Sophia Anastasis said without preamble: “Uncle Caesar, I need six hit men.”

      His eyes opened wide. “Sophia! You know we don’t do things that way no more.”

      “I’ve got to have them. This is an important operation.”

      He shook his head, his fat jowls wobbling. “Sophia, I tell you, that’s the old way. Who needs that kind of trouble, bambina?”

      “Do I have to take it to Big Nick?”

      He СКАЧАТЬ