Carmichael threw away the stump of the cigar he was smoking and lit another.
"To get back to this gadget of yours," he resumed indifferently. "Maybe it's as good as you say, maybe not. But George Carmichael was always the boy to give a struggling inventor a chance—"
Kellog winced. Yeah. Wolf would back anything that promised sure profit and no loss—provided he was given control.
"—so here's what I'm willing to do. Your proposition to have me lend you enough to get your machines built is out—the machines might flop, then where'd I be? What we'll do is this—incorporate your whatchamacallit—"
"Antichron."
"Antichron, huh? We'll incorporate it first, then put it into production. I get fifty-five percent of the stock for promotion fee, we sell twenty to the public for working capital, and all the rest is yours. See?"
Kellog saw. It was a typical Carmichael proposition. Kellog would furnish the work and brains, the sucker public the money. If the venture failed, Carmichael couldn't be hurt; if it succeeded, he would rake in the lion's share. Kellog reached for his hat and jammed it on his head.
"That's pure burglary, Mr. Carmichael," he said fairly evenly, mustering all his powers of self-restraint. "I'll see you in hell first."
"Tut, tut, my boy," said Carmichael with a repetition of his nasty chuckle, "how fiery you are! That's bad. You should never mix emotion with business. Take me. Am I offended? No. I'll be here tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, ready to do business with you. You'll come back—they always do."
Kellog only glared at him, then strode from the room, boiling at the arrogance of the grasping capitalist. And as he angrily made his way down the main street of Saturnport, everything he saw added to his rage—and to his gloom, too. For every enterprise of any magnitude on Titan, or on any of the other Saturnian satellites, was owned or controlled by Carmichael. The list was an imposing one. Carmichael was the president of the Titanic Trust Co., the only bank. He owned the Saturnport Supply Co. and Titan Shipyards outright. He had a fat finger in Rhean Ranches, Miman Mines, Titan Radio Power, the Dione angrauk packeries, and the ruby pits on Enceladus. What burned up Kellog the most was Trans-Saturnian Lighter Service.