Peter Diamandis wasn’t thinking about history as he stood in the Mojave Desert and watched a small, shuttlecock-shaped craft glide back to Earth, having nudged the edge of space. He just thought it looked beautiful. It was the next day, after the thousands of cheering spectators had disappeared, after the jubilant speeches had dried up along with the champagne, as Diamandis was driving his father back to Los Angeles, that euphoria – and relief – swept over him.