At times, Peal sounded like the editorials from a business magazine, but Blane could find no fault with his logic. The fact was that the stations were basically service companies, delivering useful services for which they could collect enormous fees without complaints. But they were forced to render most of their service to a military struggle no one wanted and for which no one wanted to be forced to pay.
Peal went on, warming to his theme. "History proves my point, Jerry. The stations have to be too complicated in function and too flexible in purpose to be run properly by men who have to think in terms of Earth politics. Every nation that ever tried controlling a major industrial set-up has found it won't work. They tried socializing railroads, airlines and factories—not to mention farming—and the experiment failed. Every Russian industry today is run independently by its own board who share in the profits, no matter how much theoretical ownership rests with the government. And China is now nothing but a system of state capitalism, whatever they call it there."
"Fine," Blane admitted. "Why didn't private industry build the stations, then?"
Peal grimaced, then grinned. "That's the weak point, of course. You can't sell shares to fund a venture until the public sees the need—and they couldn't see the need of space until military pressure put the stations up and proved they had other values. But now the stations have proved themselves. The government should turn them back to private hands under long-term loans, the same as they turned back factories after the war."
"They won't, though. And it's not just that no power is ever voluntarily given up," Blane pointed out. "They won't sell the stations because they're up here where no government on Earth could tax them. They might eventually, otherwise, but no government is going to lose its profit without getting taxes in return."
For a second, Peal started to argue. Then an expression of surprise crept onto his face. He sat silently through most of the trip. Like most scientists, he'd probably considered himself a fair amateur economist, but he'd overlooked one of the most basic aspects of economy—the fact that governments also had to operate on enough of a profit to pay their executives and bond-holders.
At the end of the wide-looping three hour orbit, Blane was surprised and pleased to see that he could locate the Russian station through the telescope. They had made corrections according to Peal's figures, and the scientist had proved to be a better astrogator than could have been expected. Only a tiny corrective blast was needed to bring them into line with the Sulky.
As they drew near, Blane stared in amazement. He'd seen pictures, but they had never conveyed the true feeling of the station. Russia had a tradition of building massively for space. Her early ships had been heavy and unsophisticated, relying on strength, size and power. The station was the same. It resembled the Goddard superficially, but it was three times as large, and must contain more than twenty times the total volume. It had a solid, substantial look that was indefinable.