My Corner
Hollman Collins woke up on that Friday morning, November 19th 2004, expecting nothing special. Hollman was an assistant, but not any regular variety. There are executive assistants, and there are administrative assistants, and then there are completely other kinds. He fit into the latter category.
Hollman woke each day never knowing what to expect. He earned a handsome salary by keeping the truly wealthy happy and comfortable. He could never explain how or why exactly he ended up with this career, but he was perfectly happy with it. Each day was an adventure, some more than others, some tedious, but never dull.
Hollman’s last employer was a very wealthy but very elderly man. Three months ago, he passed away. Given the nature of his profession, Hollman was very well connected with his potential employers, but even so, open positions came few and far between. This left most days generally uneventful.
That morning, however, an expensive courier knocked on his door, asked for a signature, and offered him an unmarked white envelope. Inside the envelope was a small card, of heavy stock. The card was neatly printed with a time and date, early next week, and an address, in Nebraska of all places. With no better plans, Hollman decided to buy the plane tickets he needed to set out to attend the mysterious appointment.
Hollman had researched, of course, and was prepared. He arrived at Lincoln airport with just the right time to spare. Ready to hire a taxi in case, he was not surprised to see a man in a well-tailored suit holding a sign clearly labeled “Collins”. He simply approached, flashed the card the courier delivered last week, and was shown to a limousine.
The ride lasted just over an hour, as Hollman had expected. When it was complete, and he found himself departing the limo to enter a truly palatial home, Hollman’s suspicions were all but confirmed. If he was lucky, he was about to get a job working for Warren Buffett, one of the richest men in the world. A comfortable employer, indeed.
A short wait in a plush lounge chair, in an equally plush lounge, was preceded by a polite but quite thorough security check, performed by a pair of burly gentlemen. Almost to the minute printed on the card, Hollman was summoned by a butler. He was lead through long hallways to enter into a wide room featuring a massive table surrounded by over a dozen large chairs, with thick carpeting underneath. Paintings covered the walls, with statues and sculptures on ornate tables scattered in between. Seated at the far end of the table was just the man Hollman expected, Warren Buffett.
“Hollman Collins, I presume?” the greeting echoed lightly.
“Indeed, Mr. Buffett. Thank you for inviting me into your home.”
“Very welcome, of course. And please, call me Warren. Come come, have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair beside him. “Let me come right to the point. I have a very special assignment, and I’ve been informed that you might be just the man to complete it.”
He continued on to describe the details to Hollman, who upon hearing them accepted the assignment immediately.
Hollman’s first task was to recruit the allies necessary for completion of such an ambitious goal. Through some extended negotiations, perfectly natural for someone with his experience, he arranged a face to face meeting with Burt Rutan.
“Mr. Rutan, I don’t want to waste your valuable time. Very simply, my employer is very interested in you. Or to be more specific, with your company, Scaled Composites. You produced the ship that won the Ansari X-Prize, correct?”
“Yes, that’s right. We completed our second flight, securing the prize, just over two months ago.”
“Exactly. At this point, you represent the most space-worthy private corporation in the world. Being a private corporation, the option to hire your services on a contract basis exists, correct?”
“Technically, yes. But Scaled Composites is not currently seeking external contracts.”
“Yes, that may be. But rest assured, one has found you.”
After a brief, but intense, negotiation Burt was won over. With the first player of the conspiracy lined up, the plan was set in motion.
Hollman’s next high profile target was Sir Richard Branson. A better co-conspirator could hardly have been designed from scratch. A massively rich dare-devil was the exact type to fit into the next empty slot, and the previous experience with his airline only sweetened the pot. In order to successfully convince Branson, and other key individuals, Mr. Buffett allowed Hollman to set up a base of operations in one of the less used, but still lavish, wings of his home.
It was early February of 2005 when Mr. Branson arrived for Hollman’s interview.
“Mr. Branson, my employer has a business proposition for you,” Hollman began.
“That’s why I’m here, chap! I know that much, but how about some details?”
“We feel that you are the perfect individual to spearhead a new industry: commercial space flight. We believe it is a natural extension of Virgin Airlines.”
“Sounds exciting. Sounds quite expensive, as well.”
“Yes, expensive certainly. But uniquely beneficial. You may be interested to know that we have already recruited Burt Rutan to work with us, head of Scaled Composites, producer of the SpaceShipOne craft, winner of the X-Prize. We are quite devoted to this endeavor.”
“Sounds like you’ve something specific in mind, what’s in it for me?”
Again, the negotiation was heated and exciting. Again, a new and important name joined the list of conspirators. The plan’s motion accelerated; within a few months the agreement between Sir Richard Branson and Burt Ratan was announced publicly. The smoke screen was lifted.
With the visible cogs in the machine cheerily spinning, the hidden mechanisms behind were also beginning to turn. What was needed now was some grease on the gears; cash to keep the machine operating smoothly. Burt Ratan had agreed to secretly kick-start the operation with their $10 million prize, but with those monies rapidly dwindling, new funding options were critical.
The next visitor to Hollman’s operation was none other than William Henry Gates III.
“Mr. Gates, I’ve called you here to reveal to you an amazing secret, and to recruit you as a member of our operation. I work for Warren Buffett, and I have enlisted the help of Burt Ratan, creator of the craft that won the X-Prize only a year ago, as well as Sir Richard Branson. You’ve likely heard the press about their plans for commercial space flight.
“Let me assure you, this is but the benign public face to our organization. For a select few, we are engineering a monumental opportunity. What we need, though, is a clean source of funding. We have the money, but we need a safe path to use to drive it to our ends. We would like to recruit you with our unique benefit package, and your charitable organization as our monetary vehicle. We would like to donate over thirty seven billion dollars, with a certain percentage diverted for our own goals.”
What followed was a detailed, and convincing, explanation of how the plan for this money would unfold. What really sealed the deal of course, as for everyone so far, was the offer for Bill to join in. This position is all about the benefits.
That was seven years ago, in early 2006. After around three and a half years, the first flight was ready. It took three more years to perfect the process, and complete construction.
Then finally big day arrived. The secret moon base was complete, and ready for habitation. Set up on the “dark side” of the moon, it was completely invisible to the Earth, and all its man-made satellites. The launch pad was located, and the launch times were selected, carefully to avoid detection.
The final result was the construction, and habitation, of the most remote corner of the world. A secret base, the new home for the most selective and elite group ever. For some, a vacation home. For others, just a new home.
In August of 2011, when Warren Buffett moved to the moon station permanently, he allowed Hollman to accompany him.
“Hollman, boy, it has been a truly impressive journey, these seven years.”
“I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. I’m honored that you invited me here.”
“I really couldn’t say goodbye without letting you come here, to see the fruits of your labor. Here it is, my little corner, where I can live out the rest of my days in peace. Thank you, thank you for helping me fulfill this dream.”
Authors note: Although real-world persons and events have been woven into this story, it is a work of fiction.