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Authors: K. Anderson Yancy
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your August body used when you usurped the sky
above the equatorial nations for geostationary satellites for non-equatorial
nations and corporations.”
“That was—“
“When countries located near the Earth's
equator created the Bogata Declaration in which they reasserted their legal
claim to control the use of space above their territory. The nations who’d appropriated their
airspace along with the “United Nations” ignored them.
“That was—“
“Ignored.”
Every time the Secretary General
attempted to speak, George cut him off with a country that signed the Bogata
Declaration of 1975.
“That —“
“Brasil,”
“That —“
Colombia,
“That —“
Congo,
“That —“
Ecuador,
“That —“
Indonesia,
“That —“
Kenya,
“That —“
Uganda,
“That —“
Zaire
“That was—“
“Theft”
I echoed George’s words. “That was
theft. For centuries the rule of law has been that the sovereign owns all the
land to the center of the Earth and the skies above to the heavens out towards
infinity.
And George continued, “The fourteen or so
wealthiest nations and the UN stole something that belonged to those poorer,
smaller nations.”
“Are you through?”
I answered him. “No, Mr. Secretary.
No.”
And so did George. “We are not through.”
“Well I am.”
In control George told him. “Sit down!”
And in support I said, “You are done when
we say you are done.”
He glared at us and reached for a phone.
“I can have you removed from this building.”
And I told him a simple truth. “I can have
you removed from this job before that happens.”
George told him another truth. “I think
I can do it faster, with or without cause. By the way, I would be the 12th
wealthiest nation.” Nonchalant, he pulled out his cell. “No more games.”
I explained to the Secretary his terms.
”Here are your options. Accept the lunar land grant and keep the moon free of
advertising.”
And so did George, “Don’t.”
“And this night and forever, you will see
everything cross the moon’s face from Eat at Joe’s to –“
“Girls, Girls, Girls.” George added.
Hemmingson chimed in. “That was my
idea.”
In front of the Secretary General I stood
hammering in our point along with George. “And when the other companies deploy
their own advertising modules above the moon—“
“Which they will.”
“Our hunter killer satellites, deployed
with our advertising module, will shoot them down.”
“In time, they’ll figure out what’s
happening and deploy their own HKS’s.”
“We’ll send more and better HKS’s.” I
let him know.
“And so will they.” George added.
“And in no time, we will have the first
intra stellar war.“
“All waged by corporate states.”
Everyone stood in shocked silence.
I broke it. “You have a choice to make.”
George started to outline it for him.
“Do you want history to hold you responsible for being able to prevent that
war—“
“And not.” Were my words.
Again there was more silence.
“Or—“ George said.
Calm the Secretary General interrupted.
“Congratulations, Mr. Young, Mr. Carleton and your fellow pirates. History
will remember you too. The first of the intra planetary robber barons.”
I grinned, “I take it that’s a yes.”
And in the central auditorium of the
United Nations, smiling and full of feigned camaraderie, I and the Secretary
General of the United Nations stood before a packed audience full of
representatives of the world’s people and its press.
Before them, the Secretary General
announced. “And it is with great pleasure that on behalf of The United
Nations, I accept for the stewardship of all mankind this moon grant from Young
Stellar Resources. . . ”
14. You Armed The Moon?!
In the penthouse boardroom of Young
Stellar Resources, George tapped a remote turning off the television and the
news broadcast of
above the equatorial nations for geostationary satellites for non-equatorial
nations and corporations.”
“That was—“
“When countries located near the Earth's
equator created the Bogata Declaration in which they reasserted their legal
claim to control the use of space above their territory. The nations who’d appropriated their
airspace along with the “United Nations” ignored them.
“That was—“
“Ignored.”
Every time the Secretary General
attempted to speak, George cut him off with a country that signed the Bogata
Declaration of 1975.
“That —“
“Brasil,”
“That —“
Colombia,
“That —“
Congo,
“That —“
Ecuador,
“That —“
Indonesia,
“That —“
Kenya,
“That —“
Uganda,
“That —“
Zaire
“That was—“
“Theft”
I echoed George’s words. “That was
theft. For centuries the rule of law has been that the sovereign owns all the
land to the center of the Earth and the skies above to the heavens out towards
infinity.
And George continued, “The fourteen or so
wealthiest nations and the UN stole something that belonged to those poorer,
smaller nations.”
“Are you through?”
I answered him. “No, Mr. Secretary.
No.”
And so did George. “We are not through.”
“Well I am.”
In control George told him. “Sit down!”
And in support I said, “You are done when
we say you are done.”
He glared at us and reached for a phone.
“I can have you removed from this building.”
And I told him a simple truth. “I can have
you removed from this job before that happens.”
George told him another truth. “I think
I can do it faster, with or without cause. By the way, I would be the 12th
wealthiest nation.” Nonchalant, he pulled out his cell. “No more games.”
I explained to the Secretary his terms.
”Here are your options. Accept the lunar land grant and keep the moon free of
advertising.”
And so did George, “Don’t.”
“And this night and forever, you will see
everything cross the moon’s face from Eat at Joe’s to –“
“Girls, Girls, Girls.” George added.
Hemmingson chimed in. “That was my
idea.”
In front of the Secretary General I stood
hammering in our point along with George. “And when the other companies deploy
their own advertising modules above the moon—“
“Which they will.”
“Our hunter killer satellites, deployed
with our advertising module, will shoot them down.”
“In time, they’ll figure out what’s
happening and deploy their own HKS’s.”
“We’ll send more and better HKS’s.” I
let him know.
“And so will they.” George added.
“And in no time, we will have the first
intra stellar war.“
“All waged by corporate states.”
Everyone stood in shocked silence.
I broke it. “You have a choice to make.”
George started to outline it for him.
“Do you want history to hold you responsible for being able to prevent that
war—“
“And not.” Were my words.
Again there was more silence.
“Or—“ George said.
Calm the Secretary General interrupted.
“Congratulations, Mr. Young, Mr. Carleton and your fellow pirates. History
will remember you too. The first of the intra planetary robber barons.”
I grinned, “I take it that’s a yes.”
And in the central auditorium of the
United Nations, smiling and full of feigned camaraderie, I and the Secretary
General of the United Nations stood before a packed audience full of
representatives of the world’s people and its press.
Before them, the Secretary General
announced. “And it is with great pleasure that on behalf of The United
Nations, I accept for the stewardship of all mankind this moon grant from Young
Stellar Resources. . . ”
14. You Armed The Moon?!
In the penthouse boardroom of Young
Stellar Resources, George tapped a remote turning off the television and the
news broadcast of
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