"And very efficient, too. Our men have everything they need to work
with. We can mine at far less cost than anyone else."
"But you still can't stand the idea of independent miners working the
Belt," Greg said.
Tawney's eyebrows went up. "But why not? There's lots of room out here.
Our operation with Jupiter Equilateral is no different from an
independent miner's operation. We aren't different kinds of people."
Tawney smiled. "When you get right down to it, we're both exactly the
same thing ... scavengers in space, vultures picking over the dead
remains to see what we can find. We come out to the asteroids, and we
bring back what we want and leave the rest behind. And it doesn't matter
whether we've got one ship working or four hundred ... we're still just
scavengers."
"With just one difference," Greg said, turning away from the viewscreen.
"Difference?"
Greg nodded. "Even vultures don't kill their own," he said.
* * * * *
Later, when they were alone in their quarters again, Greg and Johnny
stared at each other gloomily.
"Didn't you see _anything_ that might help us?" Greg said.
"Not much. For an orbit-ship, this place is a fortress. I got a good
look at that scout ship coming in ... it was armed to the teeth.
Probably they all are. And they're keeping a guard now at every
airlock."
"So we're sewed up tight," Greg said.
"Looks that way. They've got us, boy, and I think Tawney's patience is
wearing thin, too. We're either going to have to produce or else."
"But what can we do?"
"Start bluffing."
"It seems to me we're just about bluffed out."
"I mean talk business," Johnny said. "Tell Tawney what he wants to
know."
"When we don't know any more than he does? How?"
Johnny Coombs scratched his jaw. "I've been thinking about that," he
said slowly, "and I wonder if we don't know a whole lot more than we
think we do."
"Like what?" Greg said.
"We've all been looking for the same thing ... a Big Strike, a bonanza
lode. Tawney's men have raked over every one of your Dad's claims, and
they haven't turned up a thing." Johnny looked at Greg. "Makes you
wonder a little, doesn't it? Your Dad was smart, but he was no magician.
And how does a man go about hiding something like a vein of ore?"
"I don't know," Greg said. "It doesn't seem possible."
"It isn't possible," Johnny said flatly. "There's only one possible
explanation, and we've been missing it all along. Whatever he found, _it
wasn't an ore strike_. It was something else, something far different
from anything we've been thinking of."