Collision (27 page)

“About
what
studies?” Bancroft asked. He spoke instinctively, then seemed embarrassed that he had injected himself into the dialogue.

“Heroes. They intrigue some psychiatrists,” Darlene said, looking at Bancroft for the first time. “The consensus seems to be that heroes are born, not made. They instinctively act in an instant. You know that awful shooting at the movie theater in Colorado a couple of years ago? Three women who survived the shooting said they had been saved by their boyfriends. The men had shielded their girlfriends with their own bodies. And they were shot to death.”

Taylor paused to let several thoughts sink in and then asked, “Is that what attracted you to Sam?”

Bancroft squirmed in his chair, hands in his lap, the fingers of one hand nervously running around the rim of his uniform cap.

Darlene looked away from Bancroft and, after a moment, said, “I … I never thought of that. Hero? If I had to pick a word about you, Sam, it would be ‘integrity.' But that sounds so pompous. I don't know. I just think … that”—she reached for Sam's hand—“that you're a wonderful man. And, well, that sounds silly.…”

“‘Integrity,'” Taylor said. “That's a good word for Sam. Fine word. And Falcone sure has that, too. Maybe your hero studies will show that to be a hero you have to have integrity,” Taylor said.

“I … I had never heard that Fitzgerald quote before,” Sam said, hesitantly. “Tragedy. I guess that, for me, anyway, tragedy is when you want to save somebody … and … I just don't know, Ben. Tragedy is big, impersonal. When I think about … about loss in combat, I think heartbreak.”

“What's that song?” Taylor asked. “‘The hurt doesn't show but the pain still grows.'”

“I have no idea,” Darlene said and, deciding she had heard enough about tragedy, added, “Must be on one of your seventy-eight-rpm albums.”

Taylor went on as if he had not heard her: “He got beaten up pretty bad in Vietnam. Lost his wife and kid while he was in prison.”

“My God! I never knew that,” Darlene said.

“He's a great guy, a wonderful guy. But he's uptight about himself, his life. I think he's always blamed himself for not being home to protect his family.”

“Loved his country more than his family? That kind of guilt?” Bancroft asked.

“That's part of it, I think.”

“There's more?” Darlene asked.

“Yeah, the torture part of it.”

“I don't understand.”

“The pain he suffered was pretty intense. One day it got to be too much. He signed a confession, admitting that he had committed war crimes against the Vietnamese people. They broke his body and then his will.”

“Doesn't everyone break under torture? Everyone would understand the confession was made under duress,” Bancroft said.

“True. But you don't know just how proud and stubborn a man Sean is. He was angry with himself and started to cause so much trouble for his ‘interrogators' that they kept him in solitary confinement for most of the time. They told him that Karen and Kyle had been killed. They told him that they'd let him out—an early release—so he could attend their funeral. He refused. More to be guilty about.”

“Why would he do that?” Darlene asked.

“I guess he didn't believe they had died, and he didn't want to be a pawn in the Vietcong propaganda plans. But I think it was more than that. A code of honor. No cutting in line no matter what the reason. He'd leave when his turn came up. Not before.”

“And that's what he did? Refused to leave?”

“He was among the last to be released at the very end of the war. He came home on crutches with a shattered hip and broken arm that had gone untreated for four years.”

“So,” Darlene said in her pupil-with-the-answer voice, “he feels guilty for not being home to protect his family and not being there to bury them.”

“Exactly.”

“Sounds like he
did
open up for you. How come?”

“Well, we were talking one night—a couple of drinks at his big empty place on Pennsylvania Avenue,” Taylor said, looking first at Darlene, then at Bancroft, hesitating and then deciding to plunge on. “And I mentioned … your mother … and how I missed her still. And all of a sudden it all came tumbling out.”

“Guilt … Is that why he's never remarried?” Darlene asked. She instantly touched a hand to her face, feeling guilt herself for asking a question she had often wanted to ask her father.

“Who knows? Maybe.… Maybe he just doesn't want anyone to enter the prison that he's never really left.”

Tears were glistening in Darlene's eyes and on her cheeks. “It's the same for you, isn't it, Dad? I mean in some way something stopped. Mom's death. Something stopped.”

“Maybe it did—
something.
But I have a fine life. There's, most of all, you. And my work. Anyway, I stick to exploring space and all its mysteries. It's less complicated than what's down here on Earth. I think we'd better go before they turn off the lights.”

Bancroft was the first to the door. He opened it and stood back to let father and daughter exit, holding hands.

 

49

Senator Anderson banged his
gavel and paused for the silence that slowly descended over the room. He cleared his throat, and said, “Before resuming this hearing today, I wish to give my distinguished colleague, Senator Kenneth Collinsworth, the opportunity to say a few words.” Anderson turned his head and beamed at Collinsworth.

He began his opening statement by praising SpaceMine for its “trailblazing venture that brought American free enterprise to space.” He also called on the U.S. Air Force to return to its 1958 proposal for an underground base on the moon. In his rambling speech he chided NASA for scrapping an old plan for the Neil A. Armstrong Lunar Outpost, which he called a prelude to American colonization of the moon. Obviously, his heart wanted to go back to the moon and claim it as U.S. territory. But his campaign treasury wanted the contributions that came from Hamilton.

Collinsworth concluded his statement by beaming back at Anderson and saying, “Thank you, Senator Anderson, for this opportunity to speak.”

“It is now my privilege,” Anderson said, going on without a break, “to welcome America's great visionary, Robert Wentworth Hamilton.”

A slight frown swiftly came to and disappeared from Collinsworth's round pale face.
Privilege?
Goddamn it. I thought we agreed that I would do the welcoming.
But Anderson was chairman today and got his way. He, too, was a beneficiary of Hamilton's campaign-fund largesse.

Hamilton slid into the witness-table chair, with Sprague at his left. Both had that poised look of witnesses called before a friendly committee.

Before Anderson could continue his scene-stealing, Collinsworth leaned into his microphone and said loudly, “And may I add my warm welcome? Many distinguished Americans have appeared in his historic room, and all of them came here to give witness to accomplishments on Earth. In Mr. Hamilton we have the first witness of achievement beyond Earth to the Heavens.”

Before Anderson could interrupt this rapturous paean to Hamilton's genius, Collinsworth went on: “Perhaps you could tell us about the inspired events that led up to SpaceMine's rocket roaring off to Asteroid USA.”

Hamilton's usual proud bearing seemed to melt away as he somehow created an illusion, making himself look modest and unassuming.

“That rocket did not reach Asteroid USA because of the efforts of SpaceMine alone, Senator,” he began. “We had, first and foremost, the help of God, Almighty God, who has blessed our work. We also had the help of top-layer scientists. They came from NASA, from the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, and from several private corporations that wanted to join this pioneering utilization of space resources.”

“Could you give us an example of the research that led to this historic milestone?” Collinsworth asked.

Hamilton theatrically frowned and said, “I must respond carefully, Senator, because there are certain proprietary matters that are covered by nondisclosure agreements.”

“Understood, Mr. Hamilton,” Collinsworth nodded benevolently. “I image that if pioneers like Alexander Graham Bell and Tom Edison were testifying about commercial applications of their inventions, they would have made a similar remark.”

“Thank you, Senator,” Hamilton said. “While I certainly do not want to compare myself to those titans, there is some similarity.”

“And what would that similarity be?”

“Well, Senator, back in the golden age of American genius, those inventions moved quickly from laboratory demonstrations to commercial applications. Free enterprise was the highway to the future. And now we are on a skyway. We are leaving the era of government-sponsored footprints and flags on the moon and moving to a free-enterprise era of liberty and prosperity, an era that begins with asteroid mining and continues to the colonization of Mars.”

“And the moon,” Collinsworth added.

“Yes, certainly the moon, Senator.”

And so it went, Hamilton flying high in answer to Collinsworth's gentle questions. Regularly, one of the other senators would make a perfunctory remark, nod to Anderson, and steal away from the Here's Hamilton Show. After a while there were only three senators in the chairs on the dais: Anderson, Collinsworth, and Sarah Lawrence. There was no way Anderson could snub her. He finally had to acknowledge her.

She looked up from a small stack of documents and asked, “Isn't it true, Mr. Hamilton, that SpaceMine did not reveal the launch site of the rocket that reached Asteroid USA?”

“Yes, Senator Lawrence. We simply saw no particular need to go into the technical matters that led to our reaching our goal, Asteroid USA,” Hamilton replied, his tone cold.

“And wasn't the launch site, in fact, Russia's Plesetsk Cosmodrome, designed originally for launching ICBMs aimed at America?”

Collinsworth and Anderson exchanged puzzled glances, as did Ben and Darlene Taylor. The audience stirred.

“Yes, Senator, although that is a rather melodramatic way to put it.”

“And wasn't the launch supervised by the Khrunichev State Research and Production Center?”

“Yes, Senator,” Hamilton repeated. Anticipating the next question, he glanced anxiously at Collinsworth.

“And did not the Russians suffer five major launch failures—resulting in tremendous explosions when the rockets struck the Earth?”

“The ground damage was minimal, Senator. The explosions were exaggerated on unauthorized YouTube videos taken by Russian dissidents.”

“Did the Russians show you any
authorized
videos of these massive explosions?” Lawrence asked.

Before Hamilton had a chance to answer, Anderson banged his gavel and said with a trace of anger, “We are not here to discuss methods, Senator. We are looking at results.”

Lawrence ignored Anderson and said, “You mentioned NASA, Mr. Hamilton. Did you consult their extensive asteroid studies?”

“I'm glad you asked that question, Senator,” Hamilton said, a trace of relief in his voice. “We found NASA's asteroid studies to be hesitant and inconclusive. Instead, we turned to privately sponsored research that looked at the feasibility of asteroid mining. Those studies showed that there was no doubt that the best way to mine an asteroid was to put it into a lunar orbit.”

“You mean
move
the asteroid, right?”

“Precisely, Senator. And we found that the best cost-analysis approach came down to picking one of the biggest, closest asteroids.”

“Incidentally, does that asteroid have a number or name?”

“Of course, as I've testified. Asteroid USA.”

“No, Mr. Hamilton. The name given by the scientific community?”

“I believe some had referred to it in the past by others names, but—”

“Such as Janus?”

“I'm not familiar with all the mythological names some in the scientific community use, and as a Christian I prefer good Biblical names or in this case good American ones. But if you'll allow me to continue without interruption…”

Anderson, tapping his gavel, and glowering at Senator Lawrence, said, “The chair agrees that the witness should be allowed to complete his thoughts without interruption.”

“Thank you, Mr. Chairman. I was about to say that as I understand the law, possession is pretty close to ownership. Since our team is now controlling the asteroid, I believe we are entitled to bestow its title.”

“So you are in the process of moving what you call ‘Asteroid USA'?”

“Indeed, Senator Lawrence. That's what I announced almost two weeks ago on GNN. It's no secret.”

“And can you describe with greater particularity exactly where you intend to place it?” Lawrence persisted.

“Actually, this is not the appropriate time. But I plan to do so within the next thirty days.”

“Rumor has it that you intend to issue an IPO for SpaceMine soon.”

“It's a long process, Senator. My attorneys and bankers have been working diligently on this question and hope that we might be able to move forward in the reasonably near future. But no final decision has been made and no date set.”

While Hamilton continued projecting an air of nonchalance, Sprague knew that Lawrence was starting to irritate his client.

“With all due respect, Mr. Chairman,” Sprague said, “I think we're drifting pretty far afield with this line of questioning. The financial aspects of Mr. Hamilton's venture are very complex and currently under considerable review in preparation for any public offering of stock which may or may not materialize. This is hardly the forum for such analysis.”

Senator Anderson was quick to respond. “Your point is well taken, counselor. This line of inquiry goes well beyond the scope of this joint committee's inquiry—”