by G M Steenrod
A clever sales pro could look at the flat performance of P.E. and convince them that it was due to a competitor spying on them, and getting to the prospective client first. In this case, it was partly true. That was a big part of the rationale behind Kumar's use of intelligence gathering. P.E. hadn't provided any useful leads during the entire time of Kumar's surveillance.
“You might need better gear, too. Some of my associates are talking about losing probes.” Kumar's body flexed subconsciously in response. It was not a response lost on Fillmore.
“There's nothing wrong with the gear, Fillmore. Make sure you're using it correctly,” he replied, his tone was irritated.
“No problems here, Boss,” Fillmore responded, smiling apologetically. Kumar was a prima donna. He needed to be handled like any fine prima donna. “I'm just saying, something may have shifted in the dunes. The game may be up a level now.”
A grunt came from between Kumar's lips.
Kumar's probe ran off of processing power in the Ether, supplemented directly by his quantum processor. Of course, it was a higher end pseudo quantum array, not a true quantum. No matter how good his software, it needed processor power to run effectively. A primitive probe, driven by a true quantum, could outperform much more sophisticated software.
The problem with using power from the Ether was that it was all roughly the same power. He could buy additional share, but the share ran at the same speed.
He was loathe to admit it, and he could feel a rush of anger starting to creep into his face as he thought about it, but something could have changed. Maybe a new piece of counter software. It meant more money or working blind.
“You know your work, Fillmore.”
A grin crept across Fillmore's big face. Kumar wanted loyalty from Fillmore that was beyond simple payment.
Kumar smiled back. He had hit the right buttons, but Fillmore was a simpler play than most. He checked the readout for the obfuscator on the screen. It showed zero intrusion activity.
“How is that special assignment going?”
“I found an associate that could do the work. Like we talked, it'll take a lot of processing power to do what you want done and go without notice.”
Kumar had cringed when making the credit transfer. He knew the type of profits he wanted only came at risk and cost. He felt the movement of those credits, though. It wasn't quite buffalo credits, but it came close.
“Keep me tightly informed on that project, please.” Kumar pulled another data rod from a small satchel resting on the chair beside him. He handed it to Fillmore, his muscular, but more delicate hand, transferring the rod deftly to Fillmore's ham hand. It was important for Fillmore to provide him with detailed data, but to exclude him from details about how the data was acquired. He wanted to hear those details. He craved them. However, Fillmore was a physical firewall. With an offsite cpu to drive the probe, the only connection back to Kumar was through Fillmore.
He needed to preserve patience and persistence and keep his curiosity in check.
Kumar rose from his seat. Fillmore watched him intently.
“Thank you, Fillmore. I'm done with you now. You may leave.”
“Sure. Sure. Sure.” Fillmore raised his hulking frame from the small chair and headed out toward the door. He always enjoyed his visits with Kumar. His walk was studied, but a bit clumsy in its execution. To others, it seemed he hadn't spent enough time practicing in front of the screens. The truth was that he had few screens in his personal domicile—a small, but very neat apartment near the center of the city.
Early in his career, his work required him to move more frequently, changing among the domed cities. He had even spent some years on Earth, where he found the gravity to be crushing and the lush green overwhelming. It was shortly after his return from Earth that a rival burned his domicile, gutting the interior and with it, his possessions.
That fire put an end to any effort he made to grow the size of his residence.
“Let him take it in,” Fillmore thought as he slipped through the door.
Kumar waited a few moments for Fillmore to get free of the building.
“Geppetto, close it up please. I'll be leaving for home.” Kumar worked...enough. At times, that was a great deal. At times, it was very little. To him, it was the key for long term longevity in his occupation. Many men his age were already looking for a career change. Success was part lasting power in the talent managing business. He was now more likely to be sought for big deals, and people expected him to represent big deals. His occupation was stressful, but the right hours balance, he believed, kept him going and vital.
***
Kumar put on a feathered beret and walked down the stairs to the street. Energy was limited on Mars, and gravity was light. If he had been feeling comical, he could have jumped from his third story office window and managed it easily. All those factors together meant that elevators were rare.
As he reached the street level, he could see a lurking figure by the doorway. The doorway itself was made of composite. It was shiny and clean, a stark contrast from the man he glimpsed waiting for him.
Fillmore's report to Kumar had set him with a measure of unease. People lurking in doorways was not part of his business model. He found himself wishing that he had gone down with Fillmore. Fillmore had a reputation for being able to “manage” physical encounters. Fillmore could be close by. If he hadn't taken a transport.
Kumar paused in the hall, thinking about calling Fillmore. It was likely nothing. He would seem weak if it proved to be nothing. Besides, he was fit and he had taken a screen's course in personal defense.
Decided, Kumar stepped out onto the sidewalk and immediately turned to face the lurking man. He was shorter than Kumar by a head's height. He had a small pot belly visible in a checkered unitard that was long overdue for retirement.
“Do you desire something from me?” asked Kumar forcefully.
The shorter man was momentarily taken aback by Kumar's directness.
“Sir,” he said, “I would like to take a moment to talk to you about the Maker's Plan.”
It was Kumar's turn to be taken aback. “A missionary?” he thought. He had heard of them, but had never actually seen one in person.
“You're a missionary then?” He spoke as if he were asking dinosaur if it was indeed a dinosaur.
“Well, Sir, I am just a man of the Maker, hoping to help another man of the Maker.”
“Remarkable. Absolutely, remarkable.”
Less than 5% of the Martian populace professed any religious association. The bulk of that number, 4%, were homesteaders. Kumar took it in with some amazement. The flow of pedestrians slipped along the edge of an invisible social bubble that formed around them.
Unlike any group of settlers in history, Mars had been settled overwhelmingly by highly educated, very healthy scientists. Support personnel, essential for any long term space mission, had been only 10% of the number expected in the early 2000s conception of Martian settlement. Most physical labor was performed by basic, but highly reliable robots. The remaining 10% of anticipated support staff had to pass through the same filter of space travel and were highly educated and fit as well.
As a group, these were people that were not inclined to be strong religious adherents. Since the numbers of the faithful were so small, it was hard to justify the expense of transporting qualified priests. Since the few faithful came from a wide variety of religions, multiple priests would be necessary. Screens technology, even with communication delay, proved to be more cost effective for the private corps funding settlements.
Martian settlement triggered sweeping changes in the social pressures on Earth. Settlement had been driven by the economic possibilities, on the surface and in the corporate speak. Beneath the surface, it was driven by a feeling of impending doom, and a sense that the vigorousness of the human spirit had been played out like a failing copper mine on Earth. To many, it stank of mouldering decay.
News casts and bl
ogs from the first true, full-time and living settlement created an image of humans living in an almost Utopic society. Compared to Earth of the time, it certainly seemed to be the best of the human species living in a complete rejection of the Earth. Dissatisfaction with Earth politics, and the failure of both the environment and social equality triggered repeated riots.
Fundamental religions threw their hats into the the turmoil of the ring, and started an outcry that the Mars settlement, known as New Beginning, was unholy and unnatural. Even in their rivalry, these religions united in the message that New Beginning needed to be closed, and the settlers brought back to Earth.
This religious call quickly devolved into race riots on Earth. As the movement gained power, an Ecumenical Council formed to pressure the world governments to compel the return of the settlers.
The governments refused, each acknowledging silently what everyone knew; New Beginning could easily be the only hope for the human species. The Council did manage to pressure a meeting with the first Governor of New Beginning, a sociologist by the name of Peabody.
The five members of the Council met with Peabody via screen, being of a constitution not fit for space travel. On the appointed day, Governor Peabody sat down in front the screen, and pointed the screen's camera toward himself (a necessary feature of the early screens.) He was an unassuming figure-a slight, balding man in his 50s, fit but unremarkable.
The Council started their argument. Essentially, they argued that New Beginning was an abomination, and that anyone living on Mars would be condemned in the afterlife, if they made it to the afterlife at all. Governor Peabody listened to their words intently. At points, he nodded gravely.
He waited for them to complete their speech. The Council finished. Each member was convinced that the argument had been highly persuasive. They had given Peabody enough justification to support the reduction of Mars from settlement to a corporate outpost.
He met their eyes briefly and spoke with a voice rising from a place of deep conviction, “No, absolutely not.” The connection broke and at that exact moment, Mars went dark to communications from Earth.
Unbeknownst to the Council, Governor Peabody had held a series of meetings to determine the pulse of the New Beginning population. At that time, there was no force capable of compelling the population to return. There was also no good way of moving the population off world. Mars had passed a critical juncture in development too. The colony was stable and no longer relied on supplies from Earth to survive. That had been an early, practical goal of the Martian settlement, as supply shipments were expensive.
In short, they could not be forced to comply with any order from Earth. There was an almost unanimous consensus in the feeling that New Beginning had captured lightning in a bottle. To the person, there was no one that wanted the riots and discord of Earth present on Mars, and no one that wanted to return to Earth.
A groundswell grew in Peabody's meetings, and the Ecumenical Council became the villain. Peabody saw it become a scapegoat for the problems of race and religion on Earth, somewhat unfairly. It was, though, a convenient hatred.
Peabody's father had a saying, “Stupid grows.” It would be simple enough to defy the Council's demand for a return to Earth. They could, however, use the loss of the resettlement and rising discontent to compel the corporations to fund the transport of priests to Mars.
When Peabody made his response to the Council, he knew it would be broadcast across Earth. His response set into motion a very simple plan.
With his last word, all communication with Earth blacked out. Communication passed through a single antenna complex in New Beginning, so control of the complex gave the Governor control of the signal.
To deal with the loss of private communications, daily meetings were held to keep the resolve of the population strong. Peabody became the Churchill of Mars, and kept the will strong.
Ships were grounded. Inbound vessels were given the option of staying in orbit with free supply, landing and staying, or of leaving immediately.
Mars went silent in the ears of Earth. For the first two weeks, commentators on Earth talked about it as an elitist bargaining ploy. In the second two weeks, conspiracy theories flew about wildly. Mars had been taken over by pirates. A coup had occurred on Mars. Talks about sending an exploratory force to Mars started. The twist in any such theories and plans was that communication from freighters continued. The freighters were under a news black out from Mars, but Peabody saw to it that vital tidbits were leaked.
The reports were simple. Life on Mars continued normally. The settlers were happy and healthy. A population vote had been made to discontinue contact with Earth. The end of the blackout was not scheduled and not known.
By week 5, the freighter reports were public knowledge. The freighters that remained were getting antsy. Privately, Peabody met with the captains, and agreed to waive docking fees and tariffs for a period of time, individually negotiated. Some also received tax free refueling. The deals were good enough that many freight companies were ordering ships to Mars for parking. Even those bound for asteroid mining got redirected.
A shipping crises emerged on Earth. The price of raw resources started to slowly climb.
Peabody knew that there was a greater clock ticking in the background. The closest exploratory force that could provide a “presence” on Mars was 3 months out. New Beginning kept a small security force. Much like the local police in a small rural community in America, it saw little action. At best, it served as an EMS force, and didn't move about armed. It was no match for even a small military force.
By week 8, the decline of resources was noticeable in the rise of consumer goods prices on Earth. Cracks were showing on Mars with colonists use to regular contact with Earth family, friends, and culture wanting to restore their normal relations.
Polls on Earth, surprisingly, supported the Martians amongst the riots and tensions of Earth. The desire for people to emigrate from Earth to Mars sky-rocketed.
The “Martian question” dominated the news and social media. The disaffected referred to it as the “Martian Solution.” If Mars had achieved a peaceful, equitable community that was also rich in resources, why couldn't Earth? Shouldn't Mars be the model for Earth life?
Peabody bided his time and listened to the flow of opinion on Mars. Blame continued to skirt Peabody. Interruption of screen time with Earth fanned the hatred that the settlers of Mars felt for religion. Some discord emerged for faith practitioners on Mars as they started to become scapegoats for the separation. Since they were more isolated by the black out than the non-faithful, the hatred made no sense. It was illogical, but that is the nature of humans under prolonged stress.
Peabody knew that while physical violence was unnecessary, Mars had a special quality to it that could be destroyed by the emergence of deep mistrust of any group.
It was time. Week 12 came, 3 months of black out. Peabody ordered the antenna complex online. He immediately began an all channels broadcast.
“The people of Mars greet their brothers and sisters on Earth after our long silence. As a people, we needed time to process the onslaught on settlement integrity by the Ecumenical Council. As should now be obvious, we look forward to voluntary interaction with our homeworld, but we don't require it.
Clearly, we will not tolerate attempts by any Earth institution, including that of organized religion, to impose its will upon Mars. Many of these institutions come from a long history of dysfunction, and have no role on Mars in their current form. While individual settlers of Mars may choose the quality of their relationship with Earth institutions, New Beginning will break contact with Earth again, if Earth institutions try to mandate their presence here. Of course, we will honor any agreement we established before this sad turn of events.
Finally, I want to reiterate that Mars is open for business. We look forward to doing our part to increase the emigration from Earth, and welcoming our new found brothers and sisters.”
T
he screen cut off on queue. Peabody sat back satisfied. He had delivered Mars's declaration of independence. Mars had always been politically independent. The history of the colonial period on Earth pointed out the folly of long distance control. That folly was doubled when the technological advantage went to the colony. Wisely, the settlement charter eliminated the possibility of political control resting with Earth.
Peabody knew that Mars had to develop its own culture, sooner rather than later. He knew that the Ecumenical Council felt deeply threatened by Mars, because Mars challenged the belief that religion was necessary. His declaration of independence was not political. It was a declaration of independence from religion and the vicious cycle of history.
Kumar embodied the Martian repulsion to religion that had fermented since the decades of Peabody's declaration. He remembered a stray comment about a “Maker” religion at a party. The details were unclear to him. It may have been no more than comment about bumping into a real, live missionary.