Once past that beehive, he took the stairs to the far more subdued third floor. A narrow white hallway of black and white tiles and hazy lights that nearly put one in a trance led him to his lab. As he drew near, he gradually became aware of the voices of his coworkers. Rounding the corner, he was greeted by the increasingly familiar sight of the lab, lit now by natural light and comfortably furnished in grays and dark blues.
Louise was not there when Alistair arrived, but the other three to whom the former soldier was becoming acquainted were: Edward, Annette and Harcourt. Harcourt, all long spindly limbs, sat hunched over his desk, his face typically expressionless, like the numbers he manipulated, and his elongated legs tucked nearly to his chest as he sat on a chair made for a person of normal height. He was perhaps twenty cycles older than Alistair and nearly as many younger than the other two, Annette and Edward, who were pleasantly chatting with each other.
Annette glanced at Alistair and warmly smiled as he walked in but quickly returned her attention to Edward, who was busy relaying some unimportant gossip to which he was privy. Steeling himself for twelve hours of work he was confident were absolutely worthless, Alistair made his way to his own projection computer, switched it on, and waited for it to warm up.
“There is going to be a formal ball at the Mayor’s Palace next week,” said Edward as he pulled out a cigar – a rare commodity just then – snapped a match across the table and touched the flame to the end of the cigar. As he puffed hard to light it, he mixed in some speech with the smoke. “The Mayor is entertaining some dignitaries from Rendral. If anyone is interested…” No one answered his offer and Alistair knew Edward did not care. The point was to make the offer while contentedly puffing on a cigar.
“I suppose we may as well get started for the day,” suggested Annette and she stood up. “Is Louise here yet?”
“I sent her for supplies,” said Harcourt. “She’ll be back momentarily.”
“Well, then… Edward and I have been talking and we’ve come to a couple conclusions. Our job is to coordinate distribution. It’s quite a task, and we’ll be coordinating our efforts with teams from New Boston and Avon.” Annette paused a moment to give them a significant look. “Our work will determine whether the economy works or not, will either lead Aldra to victory against Kaldis or defeat. We have a sacred task and you should all be honored to be a part of it.”
At that point Edward spoke, though he did not bother to stand as Annette had. “We need to be able to predict what demand there will be and then we need to decide how exactly to organize the whole project so as to most easily implement the plan. What I mean is this: Do we organize a rigid train schedule and force industry to adapt to it, or do we allow industry to make the demands it wants and adapt our schedule? Ultimately, we cannot supply everything to everyone.”
“Given limited means and unlimited wants,” interjected Alistair, “some type of rationing must be implemented.”
A bit startled, Edward turned to consider Alistair, who had never spoken in front of the whole group, and nodded his head. Alistair blushed, nearly regretting his interjection.
“Exactly. How do we apportion the use of our railways, given limited capacity?”
The sound of footsteps outside announced Louise’s return with five plastic cups from which steam wafted. As Edward went on, she handed them out, ducking her head to remain inconspicuous.
“Could we not simply set a price?” Alistair suggested, having taken one step and deciding to press forward. “We could raise the price, and thus reduce industry demand, until supply and demand were equalized.”
Louise finished handing out the cups and finally sat down next to Alistair. She smiled shyly as he sipped from his cup, but when he returned her smile she averted her gaze and stared at the floor.
Edward grinned and, taking the cigar out of his mouth, used it to point at Alistair. “That’s the Realist spirit!” he proclaimed. “Unfortunately, it won’t work with transportation. If we want to use prices, we might as well privatize the railroad! Some things are best left to government, some things to private industry. Obviously, leaving everything to private industry would be a disaster, but the Voluntarist pure socialism was a disaster too. The railroad is the merger point where industry and military meet, where private and public join together. We want to get the best of both systems and unite them, seamlessly.”
“What we need is to coordinate behavior on both ends,” said Alistair. “So there are no shortages, surpluses, overuse, underuse, delays…”
“Exactly,” confirmed Edward.
“I can’t think of anything simpler than a price,” said Alistair. “I can’t think of anything other than a price that would have such a far reaching effect and yet be so simple to achieve. What exactly is the reason we don’t want to use it?”
“A fair question,” said Edward, preparing to launch into an explanation with the patient goodwill of a professor handling a question he has fielded many times before but which is a new concept for the current batch of students. “The war could get unbelievably expensive if we allow it. Price has to start and end somewhere, and we are that point. Now, notice the problem: the State’s generals make purchase orders from private industry, which uses rail to transport the purchased products, and rail is controlled by the State. Well, it would just be a way of getting back part of the price of what we have bought by charging them for rail. And the industrialists aren’t stupid, they’ll simply raise the price of their products.
“Here’s the problem with that: competition can be wasteful, and many companies go out of business. We can’t afford to have important industries going out of business during a war. So exclusive rights were granted to some industrialists.”
“Monopolies,” said Alistair.
Edward fixed a disapproving frown on him. “I don’t think it’s fair to use that word, Alistair. We have simply given them exclusive rights in some areas. The problem is, without the competition from other industries, these industrialists can charge almost whatever they want. So price controls have been placed on finished goods they sell us. With a rigid price control in place, they can’t adapt to the prices of the railroad, can’t pass the cost on, and could lose money.”
“So why not raise the price limit to account for the rail price?” asked Louise.
“But the rail price will fluctuate. Otherwise, what’s the point? A fixed price is as difficult as no price. In both cases, the same coordinating message is constantly being sent even though circumstances change. So rail prices must fluctuate to do a price’s work, but if they do, then the price limit must fluctuate. But what is the point of a price limit if it is going to fluctuate? That’s not a price limit, that’s just a price. And many final products are passed along through several different factories before they are finished. Each time, an industrialist would have to include the cost of shipping into his price. When it finally emerged, ready for sale, it would be unbelievably expensive. So we can’t let prices float freely or the war will be too expensive, but we can’t keep them rigidly fixed against a floating rail price. Therefore, we have eliminated the rail price. Now we need to make it work with the price-controlled industry.”
“But each time rail was paid for,” said Alistair, “it would be paid to the government. So the final product might be more expensive, but we have collected transportation fees along the way. If transportation fees are what they are passing along, and we’ve already collected those, then the price for us doesn’t go up.”
“Excellent thinking, Alistair! But it does go up for the average citizen,” Edward reminded him. “There is a sense that… how do I put it… the government is eager to do well by the people. To get their support. If all their products became so expensive because rail became too expensive because of demand during the war…” Edward finished with a shrug of his shoulders.
“But if the price of rail is kept low with a price control, and companies don’t have to pass along that cost… won’t that encourage more pu
rchasing of whatever that company is producing?” asked Alistair.
“Supply and Demand,” said Edward. “This is true.”
“And if there is more demand for something, the company making it will demand more from the companies they buy from to get the material and equipment to make their products.”
“That follows.”
“Then the prices of these secondary products will go up, but the companies that make the final products are stuck with a price control. Isn’t that likely to make them go bankrupt?”
Edward coughed into his hand and nodded his head. “Alistair, that’s… that’s good thinking. Interesting thinking. The thing is—”
“Wouldn’t we need to put price controls on these secondary industries too? But then the same thing happens between the secondary and tertiary industries. And I don’t see where it would ever stop.”
“Well, that’s part of what—”
“At the end, the entire economy would have to be price controlled. Wouldn’t it be better to let prices float and pay for everything with taxes, if they must?”
“True… I see what you’re saying.” Edward hesitated while he tried to think of a reply. “I guess there will always be a danger of this sort of thing… we need to rely on… you know… patriotism in the businesses and a bit of government oversight…”
“If that could work, wouldn’t the Voluntarist system have worked?”
“The feeling is the populace is unwilling to support a new taxation plan,” Annette answered, stepping in for an increasingly flustered Edward. “And a directive has been given to cut back on adding new Credits to circulation. There are some who are worried we’ve been adding too many and it might be bad for the system.”
“Because if they add too many people will abandon the Credit altogether, since there is nothing backing it in the first place.”
Annette smiled. “I think that’s a worst-case scenario… whatever the reason, the government does not want to tax and spend. The Voluntarists did enough of that. The intent here is to try and control the economy in a more efficient manner without having prices going wild. That is our task here.”
Edward, who plainly was not accustomed to being challenged, flatly declared, “We’re not using a price system for the rails, Alistair. It’s not our call to make. Our job is to solve these problems you are talking about at the point where the lines have been drawn. Manufacturers of final products are subject to price controls, rail transportation has no price. We need to study the data and come up with a solution to coordinate efforts.”
Alistair finally nodded, realizing he had taken Edward to the brink and not wanting to push it any farther. “It sounds like having a mix of the two systems is difficult.”
There was a general murmur of consent.
“Maybe the best thing to do would be to study other governments that found a way to make it work. We can imitate them.”
“Perhaps,” Harcourt’s stoic, clinical voice cut through the discussion, “you might like to do some research on that yourself.”
Alistair nodded. “I would love to. I’ll report back to you on my progress.”
“So there is our problem: melding the two systems together and avoiding typical inefficiencies that have resulted. We need to create an equation with simple inputs from easy measurements to accurately coordinate behavior. And of course,” Annette concluded, “Rendral wants all of this finished yesterday.”
***
Many hours later, after long shifts surrounding a four-hour nap, Alistair emerged from the Transportation Bureau Building with a stream of other workers. So much number crunching drained him and he was hungry, but he looked forward to having the next few dozen hours free. As was his custom, he spoke to no one as he left. Gerald passed by a few yards away without seeing him. He briefly considered calling out to his brother but couldn’t summon enough desire or energy.
As he drew closer to his father’s home, he became more and more isolated until he was alone, walking down a narrow alleyway cutting through to a main thoroughfare. As monotonous as his work, his feet took the ground a space at a time, crunching the ice and snow. He felt a tingle on the back of his neck as he became aware of another presence behind him. Turning to look, he saw a bundled up pedestrian so large and bulky he could only be Oliver Keegan. A smile split Alistair’s face and he stopped to wait for his friend.
“I thought I could sneak up on you,” Oliver said when he was closer, his cheeks as red as a cherry and his nose dripping onto his scarf. His face was dirty and had gone several days without being shaved, but his grin was large despite the cracked and dried lips.
“Said the elephant with disappointment.”
The two friends enjoyed a rough embrace.
“How’s the job?”
“Nothing fruitful just yet. I’m just now getting comfortable with the system. And they’re just now getting comfortable with me. Have you heard about these surveillance towers?”
The two men walked side by side.
“I don’t anticipate them lasting too long,” said Oliver with a sly smile. “Listen, I have a couple things to say. First, Stephanie has discovered what the symbol means.”
Alistair could not suppress a grin.
“That’s not good. She immediately suspected you.”
“How do we know this?”
“Bob’s cousin is in the Civil Guard. He’s working with Stephanie.”
Alistair nodded.
“That means you are likely to be scrutinized. Alistair, I’m not sure what made you suggest it…”
“I thought I’d add a little theory and philosophy to a rebellion of malcontents.”
“As if using that symbol would make them warriors of principle,” sighed Oliver. “Anyway, you did it and now your position might be compromised.”
“Then I should come back with you. I’m still not sold on this thing. You’re trying to put together an army; use someone else to do your spying; use me to train the army. I’m more use with you than I am here. And I don’t want you alone against Clever Johnny.”
“I’m hardly alone.”
“I think you need me. I don’t trust him.”
“Well, there is some good information: we have found a source of funds. A rich supporter of the old regime got left out of the game when permits were handed out.”
“And he’s feeling vindictive.”
“Yes he is.”
“Very principled.”
“Money is money. And we have already put it to good use. There is a shipload of weapons and military equipment due to arrive tonight. If all goes according to plan, that ship is going to fly by the harbor and crash onto shore several miles east. We’ll be free to pick through the goodies.”
This revelation stopped Alistair in his tracks. “Can you pull it off?”
Oliver shrugged. “If it doesn’t happen, it’s no skin off our backs. If it does—”
“How much equipment is on that ship?”
“Plenty. And the Realists were kind enough to anger half of their workers recently who now have to work in the freezing mines instead of their cozy offices.” Oliver finished with a significant look at his friend. “We’ve already managed to recruit a few dozen disaffected former pencil pushers.”
“If we can get enough weapons—”
“We’ll take the city. Can we count on your help tonight?”
“You don’t even need to ask. When and where?”
Chapter 28
Katherine was a frenzied form as she rushed through the snowy streets of Arcarius, skidded down the icy alleyways, burst into the apartment building and tore up the stairs. It was only when she arrived at the front door of the Ashley apartment that she realized how much her thighs hurt and how labored was her breathing. She allowed herself a moment to regain a modicum of composure and breath before opening the door and charging in. Her mother and father, seated at the table and enjoying an evening snack of tea and crackers, were startled by the entry.
“W
hat’s the matter?” her mother asked over her father’s incoherent exclamation. Their daughter stood in the doorway, sweating profusely. Her hat and scarf were awry and her eyes wide, as if terrified.
“I’ve got to go!” she wheezed and rushed towards her bedroom. Mary and Nigel caught up with her while she was combing her bedroom in what nearly resembled an effort to pack her traveling cases.
“What in God’s name is going on, Katherine?” her mother demanded.
Katherine paused for a second to face her mom. “I’m going to Rendral!” she proclaimed, and only then did her parents realize she was not scared but ecstatic. “I’m going to Rendral to work on a project with the National Academy of Sciences!” She even jumped into the air like a little girl as she clapped her hands together. Nigel and Mary let out a cheer and rushed to embrace her. It was Nigel who cried first, but Mary was hardly about to be stoic about it and followed suit.
“I assume this is good news,” said Alistair from the doorway as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. There were lines imprinted on the side of his face from where he had lain on the covers and his hair, no longer as short as during his service, was long enough to be molded into odd shapes when he slept. Laughing, Katherine rushed to hug him and relate the news.
Then, she remembered she was in a hurry and raced around the room again. “I don’t have much time,” she explained as she frantically grabbed at clothing, tossed it on the bed, turned in circles while clenching and unclenching her fists, spotted the clothes on her bed and picked them up, turned in another circle and tossed them back on the bed.
Mary moved into the center of the room and, grabbing Katherine by the shoulders, guided her to the door. “I’ll get you packed. Your father will fix you something to eat before you go.”
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