The Deplosion Saga

by Paul Anlee

  Though Cybrids hadn’t been an official part of the old Administration, their collective voice had always been heard and considered through the Project’s Director of Human-Cybrid Relations. Now that the Cybrids were cut off from having even informal representation, Strang was among the few who continued to seek Cybrid input. He wasn’t sure Alum realized the full extent of his consultations, or what their Leader would do if his interactions came to light. Admonish him? Fire him outright? Imprison him? It was hard to say, but he wasn’t inclined to stop consulting them now.

  DAR-K hovered silently in a vacant corner of Jared’s apartment. Her spherical bulk imposed gravitas on the meeting. “I am here mainly in the role of observer and to aid in your analysis,” she said. “Strictly speaking, I’m not supposed to be in the city at all.”

  “Luckily, my position allows me to find ways around that ridiculous law,” Jared replied.

  “It’s only a matter of time before that loophole is also closed,” DAR-K replied. “I should make it clear that I’m here only because Jared asked me.”

  “We’re not doing anything illegal by meeting like this,” Thurgood said. “It’s expected that other parties will form to challenge the election. We’re simply organizing an alternative party, not planning a revolution.”

  “Difficult to say how it might be perceived,” Kaloor pointed out. “It depends on the level of government paranoia. The fact that Alum and the Council completely dominate the hearts and minds of the population doesn’t exactly make them immune to being unreasonably suspicious.”

  The three humans looked to DAR-K for confirmation.

  “For the moment, I think you’re safe. I would recommend keeping these meetings small and low key, though. It wouldn’t hurt to think of yourselves as an insurgency group. You must realize by now that you’re likely to be viewed as such by a good number of Alum’s followers. It doesn’t matter that the opposition party is sanctioned by Alum himself and important to the political process.

  “For your own safety and for the security of the group, you may want to consider organizing along the lines of terrorist cells: no individual should have access to the full list of members and sympathizers until Alum proves his openness to democracy and freedom.”

  Kaloor’s eyes went wide and he laughed. “You can’t be serious! If we start looking like a terrorist group, they’ll treat us like one.”

  “That is a risk,” DAR-K admitted. “However, until you can announce the formation of the party at a large public forum, it’s a risk worth taking. I’m not sure how seriously Alum takes his own rhetoric.”

  “Do you think he might have ulterior motives?”

  “The election is four years away. He has a long lead time to consolidate his power base. I’m sure he’ll maintain the appearance of an approaching election through most of those four years. We are still in early days in the colonies. I think we would be wise not to fool ourselves into thinking civil society simply picked up and shifted out here to the asteroids.

  “Had the original Administration and colonists still been in place, the transition to democratic rule might have been carried out smoothly. But this feels more like we’re heading for the establishment of a monarchy to me.”

  “Alum as King and Emperor?” scoffed Kaloor.

  “And Archbishop or Pope. State and Church, as one,” the Cybrid answered. “I simply advise caution until the actual election. For now, proceed as if Alum will stay true to his word.”

  “Very well,” Strang jumped in. “In that case, we have two things we need to do. We need to pick a platform, and we need to come up with some candidates.”

  “Do you think the Council is united behind Alum on his proposals?” Thurgood asked. “I mean, some of your old chums can’t be happy about the socialist leaning of his policies.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to discuss Alum’s speech with Nigel Hodge yet, but I’m sure you’re right. His group was all about accumulating wealth and power, and consolidating a position of privilege. Alum’s policies will leave them gutted.”

  “So what are they going to do?”

  “No idea. What would you do if you were in their position? Would you sit on Council and be happy with the crumbs Alum leaves you? Do you try to find some way to change his mind? Or do you remove him?”

  “Hard enough to remove a king,” DAR-K said from the corner, “let alone someone who’s become King and Pope combined.”

  Thurgood nodded. “You’re right. It would be better for Nigel and his colleagues to act sooner rather than later, don’t you think?”

  Jared nodded. “Except I don’t think anybody saw this coming. No one’s in any position to overthrow Alum right now. His timing is impeccable. He made his move while he still has everyone’s confidence and with no obvious contender to challenge him.”

  “A revolution, then,” Thurgood suggested.

  “No, I don’t think so,” DAR-K answered. “The colonies would fall apart without Alum leading them. Millions would die in any kind of civil war, maybe even the whole species.”

  “Well, that would solve your problem, wouldn’t it?”Jared said to the Cybrid before he could stop himself.

  “For the moment, we Cybrids have no particular problem. To us, Alum is essentially a benign dictator and we are his slaves. Our lives are basically unchanged from what they were in the old Administration. We are assigned work. We do our work, and in return we receive free energy and free maintenance. Our contributions feel meaningful; we help humanity to survive. If anything, our quality of life will improve now that we have Vacationland.”

  “Vacationland?” Kaloor asked.

  “Yes,” Strang answered for the Cybrid. “A few months ago a programmer from Romania, a member of the YTG Church, if you can believe it, approached me by email with a virtual world he’d modified for Cybrid use. He called it Vacationland. It’s based on an inSense entertainment program he’d designed on Earth.”

  Kaloor eyed him with a skeptical sidelong glance. “And Alum’s okay with this?”

  “I wondered about that, too, but Alum seems to have embraced the idea wholeheartedly. Perhaps he believes it makes him appear more kind hearted.”

  “At any rate,” DAR-K said. “It provides my people with a place to play and to remember their humanity, if only for a while. I’m looking into providing a user-friendly development interface so we can create other such worlds.”

  “So, you’re content to exist in servitude?” Jared asked.

  “We all exist to serve within our societies, do we not? Cybrids have little or no personal ambition. We have everything we need: energy, maintenance, purpose. We have no desire for dominance over our fellows, neither Cybrid nor human. With the proposed software and computational support, we can make and inhabit any world we dream up. It’s as good a life as anyone ever had.”

  Kaloor wobbled his head left and right as he considered DAR-K’s position. “Okaaay. Well, that’s one way to think of it. So, you’re saying you’d prefer to remain above the fray, then?”

  “As I’ve told Jared before, Alum is humanity’s problem to sort out. I remember freedom. I remember democracy. Nice ideals. Not everything works out as pretty as planned.

  “If you want to ask me about the best way to administer the habitats, I’ll be happy to answer. Alum has a good design, in my estimation. If I were you, I’d plan a cooperative opposition, a small tweak here and there, a different perspective, nothing overly dramatic.”

  “So that’s going to be our platform? A tweak here and there, a different perspective, nothing overly dramatic,” Thurgood scoffed. “Try winning elections with that!”

  “I’m sure we can come up with something a little catchier,” Strang replied. “Maybe along the lines of, ‘Every government needs a sober second opinion,’ or how about, ‘Experience counts.’ Something like that.”

  Kaloor’s face gave in to a mischievous, wry grin. “Marketing is really not your strength, is it?”

  “Maybe not,” Strang a
dmitted. “It doesn’t matter. We know why an opposition party is needed, and that’s enough to get started. There are several thousand members of the previous Administration living among the three asteroids. We need to get in touch with them and start identifying potential candidates.”

  “We may have all worked together, but I don’t believe we were ever politically united,” Thurgood admitted. “The old Administration ran the spectrum from far left to far right and everything in between.”

  “Luckily, we were able to unite in survival,” Kaloor said.

  “The very few of us who knew, that is,” Strang replied. “Most of the original colonists never knew anything beyond the official ‘opportunities for expansion’ cover story. Most of them believed it was an option for humanity to push into a new frontier.”

  Thurgood took a sip of her coffee. “These people know nothing beyond their faith in Alum and their God.” She scowled at the dark liquid. The untouched cup had grown cold, and they hadn’t gotten past the basic existential issues.

  “Their faith allowed them to get off Earth, and to take over the asteroids,” DAR-K pointed out. “They may not be the finest representatives of humanity, and they may not be the survivors we ourselves would’ve chosen, but they are the survivors we have. For now, we need to support their efforts. We need guidance, not revolution.”

  “What if they don’t want any guidance from us?” Kaloor asked. “What if they are content to live under Alum’s political and religious dictatorship?”

  DAR-K had no reply.

  16

  “So, how’s the new business plan coming along?” Jared Strang was working on his second coffee of the morning at Rumi’s. It was a rare day off for the Councillor. Despite Alum’s proposal that employees work no more than three days a week, liaising with the Cybrids was taking double that. Nevertheless, it was his day away from the office and Jared was enjoying a novel he’d been meaning to re-read for months. So, today, life was good.

  The owner of his favorite café looked back at him for a moment, working the question over in his mind. “I’m not sure you wanna know, man,” he replied.

  Jared scanned the sparsely occupied terrace. Rumi’s two employees had everything under control. He pushed a chair out with his foot. “Sit. Tell.”

  Rumi pulled off his gray apron and took a seat. He caught the eye of one of his staff and signaled for her to bring him a cappuccino.

  “It’s the banks, man. I thought dealing with Ecuadorians was bureaucratic, but these guys have perfected it.”

  “What’s up? I thought things would be getting better by now.” Like almost everyone, Jared had watched Alum’s pronouncements on the new economic and financial systems. Unlike most, he was actually interested. People always got caught up in the drama of elections, wars, and political infighting but policy was what really mattered.

  “Yeah, you’d think so. It’s been over two months. I mean, the banks and all their people were already in place. All they had to do was change over the currency and get back into business. How much time could that take?”

  “It’s entirely electronic; it should only take minutes. Hours, tops,” agreed Strang.

  “Exactly! So, I waited two weeks before I put in a loan application. I was busy anyway, and I wasn’t going to be able to expand until the other shops had Certificates of Ownership for their people. So, I cooled my jets for a while. Then I went to see my manager.”

  “How’d that go?”

  “The first visit felt great. I filled out the paperwork, we had a nice chat about my plans, and I went home.”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  “I didn’t hear a thing for another two weeks, so I popped in to see her again. Only, they had a new manager and he claimed that he’d never seen any paperwork.”

  “What did you do?”

  Rumi sighed. “What could I do? I filled out the forms again, had a nice chat about my plans, and went home.”

  “And?”

  “I wasn’t going to wait another two weeks so, after a few days, I went back in. Same story: new manager, no paperwork.”

  “What? I would have thought their people were more competent than that.”

  “Me, too. So I said to Hell with them and switched banks.”

  “Branches, you mean, seeing as they’re all one bank now.”

  “Yeah. Well, I got the same story there.”

  “No way! Seriously?”

  “Seriously, man. It’s messed up out there. They even lost track of some of my people’s paychecks.”

  “Come on, now.”

  “Truth. Gabbi didn’t get her pay two weeks ago, and Melissa missed one a month ago. Half my savings went missing for ten days.”

  “Okay, that does sound serious.”

  “Look, I’m only an engineer—“

  “—and successful entrepreneur,” Jared added.

  “Aw, thanks, man. Yeah. Anyway, even I know that if people don’t think they can rely on their banks, sooner or later there’ll be trouble. More likely, sooner.”

  Jared checked his inSense news feed. ““Hmm, you know, this isn’t the only kind of trouble we’ve been having.”

  “You’re telling me. I’ve had to shut down twice this month. No water.”

  “No water? I travel so much, I hadn’t heard.”

  “Yeah, I bet you stay in all the best hotels.”

  “On business, I do. Not that any of them are luxurious compared to the nicer places we had on Earth.”

  “It’ll get pretty sad if the definition of luxury becomes any place with steady, running water.”

  “My own newsfeed, not the official mainstream broadcasts—”

  “Of course,” Rumi toasted Jared with the newly-arrived cup.

  “My newsfeed says these infrastructure problems may be a little more common and frequent than one might expect by chance.”

  “Are you suggesting the Cybrids are lousy builders?” Rumi’s cynical grin gave away that he wouldn’t believe such a thing.

  “No, not possible. Maybe it’s the new colonists who are assuming responsibilities previously carried by Cybrids.”

  “Aren’t your people—the Cybrids, I mean—aren’t they training them?”

  “My people, as you put it, are doing their best to train and supervise the new colonists under very trying circumstances. The majority of trainees are poorly educated, completely inexperienced, and resentful of learning from ‘machines’.

  “I thought things were going well, all considered. This would suggest quite the contrary.” The furrows in Strang’s forehead deepened as he lost himself in his newsfeed.

  “What is it?” Rumi asked.

  “The problems are popping up randomly. Almost too randomly; it’s as if someone is trying to hide a pattern.”

  “Sabotage? Who’d do that?”

  “I have no idea. I’ll need to talk with DAR-K…and then with Alum.”

  17

  Jared Strang and Jenny Thurgood waited in the Reception Area outside Alum’s office. They watched people coming and going through the doorway for about an hour before Thurgood’s impatience got the better of her.

  Ignoring the eight others who’d been sitting quietly for the past sixty minutes, some even longer, she walked up to the receptionist and demanded to see Alum at his next available moment. “We’re on the Governing Council, you know.”

  “Yes,” the Receptionist replied, “and you were also in the old Administration.” She returned Thurgood’s intimidating stare without flinching. “I’m sure you realize that as Leader of the Council, Alum is very busy. I will let you know when he becomes available.”

  The Councillor walked back to her bench, defeated. Jared patted her hand in consolation, but she snapped it away.

  Despite the rebuke, they were ushered into the Leader’s office fifteen minutes later. Alum remained behind his desk, working on some papers. Without a word or looking up, he motioned for them to take a seat.

  No comfy chat on the sofa
s today—Strang noted.

  The two visitors waited in their austere chairs while Alum completed his work. After a few minutes, he returned his stylus to the desktop and regarded them with an indulgent smile.

  “It’s not every day two Councillors appear together in my office. How can I help you?”

  Thurgood deferred to Strang.

  Fair enough. It was my idea, I guess I should start—Strang thought.

  “We are here to talk about how we may help you, sir,” he said.

  Alum looked surprised, which in turn surprised Strang. There weren’t many times one got ahead of the Leader; his information and planning were astonishingly thorough.

  “That is unexpected,” Alum said. “I’m aware your group is forming an opposition party. I didn’t expect us to find much cause for helping one another over the next few years.”

  “Any decent democracy requires an opposition,” Thurgood began. The edge in her voice drew a subtle smile from Alum.

  “But that opposition doesn’t have to be inimical,” Strang interjected. He saw the flash of an indignant glare from Thurgood but pushed on. “Our interests, all of our interests, lie in ensuring the colonies are well administered, nothing more.”

  “I’m glad you see it that way. I suppose some kind of sober second thought might be helpful from time to time. “That is, indeed, why I set up the Council in the first place.”

  “Exactly. After all, what’s an election without someone to run against, however much it’s just for show?”

  Alum stroked his chin. “None of your representatives has a chance of winning. That doesn’t bother you?”

  “We’ll have to see,” challenged Thurgood. “The outcome may not be what you expect. Even among your most ardent supporters, there are many who see the merit in separating church and state.”

  Alum sat upright. “Are you suggesting I should resign my post as Spiritual Leader in order to run in the election?”

  “It’s a thought,” Thurgood replied. “But as you pointed out, our representatives have practically no chance of winning, anyway.”