Black Undertow

In the distance, a "Fat Albert" roared off its pad on a tower of water vapor exhaust, interrupting the discussion for a minute. "Yeah, I know. The world population is already seven billion and climbing. Ignorant people are having too damn many babies they can't feed. Ninety five percent of that is right here on Earth, using its scarce resources."

Levitt was incredulous at Miceli's inaccurate figure. "Ninety-five? It's more than that! Let's see, Mars has ninety-five million people on it. Let's call it an even hundred million. About three hundred thousand on the Moon. Still not over a hundred million. Between seventy and two hundred on the Mercury base at any given time. Three to five hundred scattered among the two dozen asteroid bases. Still comes in at just under a hundred million people who live off-world. One hundred million out of seven billion doesn't even approach five percent. So, what does that leave here on this wrecked world---ninety-nine percent?

"No, Barry," Miceli said, waving his hands all about. "Your math is off. That puts one-seventieth off world and the other sixty-nine here."

"Okay, right, but sixty-nine seventieths of seven billion still scares me, Vince. I don't know about you, but that looks like too many people."

"I'm not disputing that, guy. I just don't hold out much hope of the other two Aristarchus class ships ever being funded, let alone a project to settle the Europan sea, or melt down its ice layer to make an atmosphere. That's all I'm saying."

Levitt exhaled, somewhat explosively. "I know. It's too damn bad, though, because it would be so simple to filter the oxygen from that water to sustain colonies in that sea like they did here. Isn't it a crime that money always has to come before survival?"