Braintrust- Requiem

by Marc Stiegler

  Zhang gulped, saluted, and went back to work.

  Finally free of distractions, Fan reattached her helmet while muttering obscenities. When she’d told Guang she was infected, she hadn’t been lying. Her head was throbbing again, and now her throat felt scratchy. And she felt a little too warm. Were these symptoms of Rubola, or was the headache just Guang, the scratch the result of yelling too much, and the excess warmth because of the smothering moonsuit? Or was it all just psychosomatic?

  She plopped into the passenger seat and pulled down the canopy. “Back to the BrainTrust.”

  Julissa stared at her in exasperation. “Why bother to put the helmet back on? It’s too late now.”

  Fan lay back and closed her eyes. “Just fly the copter, Julissa. I didn’t put the helmet on to protect me. I put it on to protect everybody on the BrainTrust from me.”

  Julissa blanched.

  Fan said, as much for herself as Julissa, “Don’t worry. I’m sure Doctors Dash and Chance will have this problem solved in no time.”

  She fixed a carefree smile on her face for Julissa’s benefit and kept it there for the whole flight home.

  6

  What Every Girl Needs

  To the naive mind…it may seem absurd that…adaptation to the unknown can be achieved more effectively by decentralizing decisions.

  — F. A. Hayek

  When college students take their first class in abnormal psychology, they are often struck with temporary insanity.

  The underlying insanity is the introspection that leads to diagnosis of the self with every neurosis and psychosis they learn about. Are you paranoid, or do you simply have a healthy respect for Murphy’s Law? If you are cheerful one day and depressed the next, is it the breakup with the girlfriend or bipolar disorder? In the end, the student usually concludes he’s normal, which is perhaps the least likely diagnosis of all.

  Liu Fan Hui, Number Two of the Standing Committee, had spent the last two years studying, among other things, economics. She had found it entrancing and daydreamed from time to time about how she would apply what she had learned to transform China when she joined the Politburo.

  Guang’s voice interrupted. “Fan, are you listening?”

  Fan allowed some life to enter her glazed eyes. “You’re upset because everybody’s moving every yuan they’ve got into SmartCoin, even at terrible exchange rates.” Fan shrugged. “Whatever you do, don’t try to stop them.”

  Guang’s eyes bulged. “Why not? We’ve got control of all the Internet routers throughout the country. We can cut off the whole SmartCoin operation.”

  Fan chuckled. “I’ve been studying this in school, Guang. If you prevent people from buying something they really want, they form a black market, continue to buy what they want, and help fund criminals—in our case, the triads.” One of Fan’s enthusiasms, based on her studies, was to legalize enough victimless crimes to destroy the Chinese mobsters. “You don’t gain power by outlawing what people will do anyway, you lose power.”

  Guang stared at her. “But I don’t see how we could fail.”

  Fan put her hand over her face for a moment. “Starry Night, Guang. We are completely unable to stop comm through the SpaceR cell system.”

  Guang frowned. “We could identify cell phones that use those satellites and execute the users.”

  “They’d just switch to BrainTrust phones. One of the products coming out of the Prometheus fleet these days is replacement parts for popular phones that have no backdoors for government surveillance.” Actually, the phones were being manufactured by the New Medina archipelago southwest of the main Prometheus fleet, but that was too small a detail for Guang. “So they don’t even look like BrainTrust phones, they look like the phones we can tap.” She shrugged. “There’s no way of knowing who’s doing what.”

  Guang just pouted.

  Fan gave him a stern look. “And don’t let some idiot adviser tell you that you can fix this by printing a mountain of yuan. That’s how we got into this situation in the first place. Honestly, the way our ancestors pumped up the debt every time the economy hiccupped, you’d think we were as undisciplined as the West.”

  Guang finally looked defeated. “So, what do we do?”

  Fan thought for a moment, and her eyes blazed with excitement. All those things she’d wanted to do to make China better? Now she could do them. More soberly, she realized, she had to do them, and in record time, to save the nation from total collapse. “We’ll have to do what our forefathers should have done in the first place—reinvigorate the economy. Free our society from the rules and regulations that hold our people back!”

  Guang goggled at her. “Like what?”

  A particular example that had been bugging her for a while rolled off her tongue. “Like the laws that prevent people from buying cars, for one thing. If someone wants to buy a car, let them! Our automobile factories would take off!” She paused, considering the current economic situation. “Well, at the moment, we’d have to force the banks to make very low interest loans in SmartCoin to kick start it all.” Her enthusiasm returned. “Anyway, then people who spent half the day riding bicycles and trains would instead be able to spend those hours working, contributing to their own wealth and to the growth of our national treasury!”

  Guang gasped. “But…but…that would lead to chaos!”

  Fan laughed. “Perhaps. The same kind of chaos that made America so vibrant.” She stopped laughing abruptly. “Really, Guang, we can put our nation’s economy on steroids. With 1.3 billion customers with no tariff barriers or border walls, we can rock this planet. We just have to get out of the people’s way.”

  Guang frowned. “Could you…”

  Fan leapt to her feet. “Put me in charge. I’ll get this country going. We’ll pay off our debt and roll over the West like a bulldozer.”

  Fan called Julissa as soon as she hung up with Guang. “We’re going to Shanghai and working our way up the coast.”

  Julissa answered, “As you wish, ma’am. May I ask what we’ll be doing?”

  Fan continued in a gay tone, “We’re going to start rattling cages. I’m going to infuriate so many people, they’ll bounce off each other walking through their offices. They’ll hang me in effigy and wrathstorm me on the web.” She paused. “Of course, we’ll throw them in jail at that point. Regardless, China will never be the same again.”

  Drew’s trip back to DC from Colorado proved oddly uneventful. He kept the governor’s limo moving at a sprightly pace. Blues joined the cavalcade at almost every entrance ramp to the expressway. Greens tried to join as well, but every time their electric-only cars ran low on the juice they had to stop for such a long time to charge up, they lost the formation.

  As the line of cars following the limo lengthened, more troop carriers joined Drew’s entourage to keep an eye on them.

  One day out from DC, while Drew munched on a burger, Wolf slid into the seat across from him. “All set. I’ve got the guards at the gate. Everybody else is already organized.”

  Drew contemplated his friend. “You’re making it sound like it was easy.”

  Wolf clapped him on the shoulder. “I hardly did anything. I met this girl, and she was already doing the heavy lifting.” He shook his head. “She’s an itty bitty blonde.” He held his hand up at shoulder height, which meant she might easily be taller than most women. “A real firecracker.”

  Drew peered at him. “Maybe you should ask her on a date.”

  Wolf laughed. “She’s taken, sort of, at least for now. Besides, she’s way too scary for my taste.”

  Drew grunted. “Tomorrow, then.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Keenan breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the list of corporate winners and losers as the Chief Advisor doled out government largesse. GM’s salvation had been easy to guess, as was the death of Amazon. He called Larry Winters. “Just wanted to let you know the new corporate death bonds are working well.”

  The CEO stared at him fr
om the wallscreen. “Excellent. I confess I had my doubts about the idea—creating bundles of puts and calls on corporate bankruptcies and survivals. It seemed a little radical for people to actually buy into. But your corporate death bonds—CDBs, right?—are apparently the right instrument at the right time.”

  Keenan shrugged. “Radical times, radical ideas. You said so yourself, chief.”

  Larry laughed. “I suppose I did.”

  They talked about the details of the bundles. Keenan had not, of course, predicted all the winners and losers correctly, but enough so that his misses were easily amortized over the spread of his hits.

  Of course, GS did not win or lose based on bankruptcies and survivals. GS took its profits as a percentage of the purchase price of the bonds, leaving the risk in the hands of the buyers.

  Their success in passing the risk on to their customers with the CDBs reminded Keenan’s boss of another matter—an untidy loose end from a while earlier. The CEO asked, “All of which reminds me, Keenan. Whatever happened with the California bonds you constructed for the Governor and the Attorney General? Were you able to sell off all that paper? I can’t help believing that California is going to go bust any day now.”

  Keenan winced. “Well, the good news is, we sold enough of the bonds and enough of the against-positions that will pay off when California defaults that we made a handsome profit no matter what happens.”

  Larry saw right through that. “So, you couldn’t get rid of them all, huh? I guess it’s too late now.”

  Keenan wanted to scream. He’d done a great job, he felt, selling as many of those bonds as he had. It wasn’t like California had been a golden child of responsible financial behavior after they’d issued the bonds. And they’d made a fine profit, dammit. “Chief, I couldn’t even give those bonds away now. Sorry.”

  The CEO shrugged. “Well, when this is over, we can pile them up and make a bonfire with them, I guess.” He lit up. “So what’s next, Keenan? How will the governments screw up next? How do we profit from it?”

  Fan Hui stood in front of the desk of the CEO of the China State Railway Group Company, Ltd., one of the many state-owned enterprises she had to fix. She put her fists on her hips. As Lenora had taught her, she kept her voice from rising to a yell. A shouting match would do no good. “I hear your objections. Now hear me when I tell you what will happen.” She pointed at the papers on the desk. “The Railway Group will no longer be a part of the state. The shares of stock in the new corporation will be distributed to all the employees, based on rank and salary as described here.”

  The CEO shook his head. “Splitting the corporation off from the state is a good idea.” He sighed. “But I see you’ve had no experience with stocks.” A greedy look entered his eyes. “With this distribution of shares, I don’t have a majority holding. Even with my vice presidents, we don’t have an absolute majority. The result would be chaos.”

  “And yet, somehow Western corporations deal with the chaos every day.”

  The CEO paid no attention. “And you need to realize that you still need to subsidize us. We’d bleed red without government backing.”

  “Perhaps you should tighten up operations.”

  The CEO huffed. “Tighten up? This company is the very model of the modern high-efficiency operation.”

  Fan unclenched her fists, put her palms on his desk, and leaned over until he had to crane his neck to look at her. “Don’t embarrass yourself. First of all, you should get rid of your corporate police force. And your corporate court system with it.”

  The CEO stared at her, aghast. “Get rid of our troops? Why, that would lead to—”

  Fan interrupted with pure sarcasm. “Chaos. Yes, I’ve heard you say it before.”

  The CEO shook his head. “And our court system! Our trains run all over the continent! We even have trains running to London! Without our own court, who’d have jurisdiction? It would be—”

  “Chaos. So you’ve said.” Fan backed away from the desk. “Inside China, you’ll use Chinese courts. When crossing jurisdictions, you can outsource to the BrainTrust mediators. They’ve been doing this kind of job for years, and they do it cheaply. Having your own police and courts is just bloat.” A wicked gleam entered her eyes. “Of course, these are just suggestions. Do what you want until the Board throws you out. I’ll still be on the Board, you know.”

  The CEO sighed and steepled his fingers. “Perhaps you should come back tomorrow after you’ve had a chance to calm down and rethink these proposals of yours.”

  Fan pulled out her phone. “Perhaps we should bring in a higher authority.” She dialed. “Guang? Could you tell the CEO of the railway system how things are going to work?”

  The CEO paled as he realized the President for Life was now involved.

  Fan handed him the phone.

  Sweat broke out on the CEO’s forehead. “Ah, yes, President. Yes, it shall be as you request.” The CEO handed her back the phone.

  Fan took the phone back.

  Guang spoke. “He doesn’t sound very convinced to me. What do you think?”

  Fan looked at the CEO, whose fury had subsided into dark, self-obsessed malice. She sighed. “It’ll work.”

  Guang objected, “You don’t sound convinced either.”

  She shook her head. “I can deal with it.”

  After a pause, Guang spoke again. “Could you put the head of your security detail on the line for a moment?”

  Fan turned and wordlessly handed the phone to her number one bodyguard. The bodyguard listened and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  As he handed the phone back, he motioned for two of his men. They grabbed the CEO and dragged him outside as he squawked in outrage. A single pistol shot rang out.

  Guang spoke again. “Sounds like he won’t trouble you anymore. You have someone you can replace him with?”

  Fan rolled her eyes. “That really wasn’t necessary.”

  Guang laughed. “Hey, what good is a boyfriend if he can’t smooth out the little bumps in life for you?”

  The Advisor kept the grimace from his face and instead smiled as he answered the next irritating question asked by some bitch named Lucy Palmer. “Of course I’ve heard of the Red Cavalry making its way to Hollywood. I think the news reports that they plan to burn all the studios down is an exaggeration.” He gave the reporters his signature shark smile. “But let’s face it, it’s not like they don’t have a legitimate complaint about how those movie people are undermining American values.”

  Lucy pushed again. “So, what are you doing about it? You have the California Governor in custody, so he can’t do anything.”

  The Advisor continued to smile. “I assure you I’ll send troops if and when I conclude there’s a genuine threat there.” He figured he’d draw that conclusion after about half the studios were burned to the ground. Perhaps the survivors would learn a little something from the event.

  Another reporter changed the topic, sort of. “I understand the Governor and his Blue Cavalry are being brought to you here. What do you plan to do with them?”

  Since no one had paid any attention when he’d demanded that the Governor be summarily executed for treason, he’d concluded a more tactful approach was in order. “I’ll talk to him. If I can make him understand my plans, he can go back to California.” And if the Governor didn’t understand, the Advisor already had Darron’s replacement lined up to deal with him.

  Dash saw Quraish, who was standing just outside the field of solar panels, raise his hand in greeting as Ping landed their copter. As she hopped out, Dash returned the wave.

  As they came together, Quraish gave them a cautious smile. “Dr. Dash, Empress, it’s good to see you.” His smile turned puzzled. “But what are you doing here? We survived the last plague unharmed, as you know.” He nodded briefly to Ping, who’d made the trip in person to bring them the vaccine for the Sky Rubola. On that trip, Ping had not been surprised to learn that Quraish’s people didn’t really need it. Khalid�
�s instructions to starve themselves to the point of malnutrition had protected them from the virus.

  Dash waved her hand at the field of panels. “I’ve come to help you bring the rain back.”

  Quraish’s smile took on a rigid quality. “How can you do that? You killed our benefactor who was building the solar fields.” As Dash had deduced on her last visit, Khalid was building the fields, not so much to produce electricity as to disrupt the desert air currents that destroyed cloud formation. Solar power, on a large enough scale here in North Africa’s Sahel semi-arid region, could bring back the greenery and the crops.

  Dash closed her eyes. “And for the tragic demise of your benefactor, I am sorrier than you can know.” He had been a caring man, even if he had tried to wipe out over eighty percent of humanity. “But just because Khalid is gone, it does not mean his dream for your people must go as well.” She lifted her tablet, upon which she displayed a contract. “I have put together a consortium of investors from the BrainTrust to finish the solar fields.”

  She went through the terms of the contract with him. Her backers would put up the money to buy the solar panels and the bots to install them, in exchange for a substantial part of profits from the agricultural activities that would flourish when the rain returned.

  Dash finished with a warning. “I need to apologize for the size of our percentage of the profits when your agricultural fields come back to life.”

  Quraish looked at her in puzzlement. “But without your offer, there would be no profits, correct? You could take an even bigger percentage and it would still be a victory for my people, would it not?” His eyes brightened as another thought came to him. “And we keep the bots, yes? I was worried there would be too much work in the fields for my people to do it all, but if we can keep the bots, we won’t even have to work any harder.”