by Sam Lippert
N-wave however, was true point-to-point communication. When sending an n-wave burst the recipient's location must be known to within ten kilometers. Once initial contact is made, the n-space vibrations of the two devices are automatically 'tuned' and the radios can continue to communicate until the connection is broken. Given this limitation it is a good general rule of thumb that the smaller and less predictable an object is, the harder it is to contact it by n-wave. Contacting a city on a planet, or a space station: easy, contacting an individual starship that you have not made visual or sensor contact with: virtually impossible. (Military vessels get around this by carrying multiple n-wave units and NEVER breaking contact with HQ and the other ships of the fleet. An expense that would be unbearable in the private sector.)
Thus Winette's dilemma: although she knew the Nola was on Rand, she did not know exactly where, and therefore could not contact them by n-wave. On virtually any other planet, she would be able to count on the Nola being at one of a few government run spaceports, and it would only take a few queries through diplomatic channels to discover which one. However, not only did Rand have too many spaceports for this to be effective, all of those ports were privately held, and the Randian government (such as it was) would not be able to get any information from the ports that they were not willing to give. Consequently, the KII agent was currently strapped into a courier ship, the fastest transportation developed by humankind, preparing to depart Nexus.
With modern FTL transit time is determined by three factors: the energy state that is achievable by the FTL drive, speed of your ship as you reach a null point and engage your FTL, and finally travel time to the null point. Even an FTL drive that could match the energy state of the Big Bang, and deliver you to any point in the universe instantaneously, is slowed down by the need to travel in real energy-space to a gravitational null point. Although the term 'null point' is in general use among FTL pilots, the engineers who design starships make their living by exploiting the actual formula for calculating where a drive can be engaged, a formula in which the mass of the starship plays a major role: ie. the less massive the starship the more and better choices that are available for 'null points,' thereby cutting down the necessary travel in real energy-space. Combining the lowest achievable mass with the highest achievable energy state gives you the fastest possible FTL configuration. Tack on a hella fast, low mass, sub-light drive and you have the all-around fastest ship in the known universe. The very definition of courier ship.
Winette had placed an n-wave call to the Empress of Kalifet immediately after Tranda had reported the result of dinner with Jeremy James. Said call had resulted in the delivery of a Hermes Mark 7, generally considered to be the fastest ship in the galaxy, to Winette on Nexus. The best way to describe the Mark 7 was as a coffin attached to the most advanced star drive in known space.
Because of the necessary restrictions on mass, Winette would be spending her entire journey in hypersleep, using the latest in biomedical technology to reduce her autonomic functions to a near death level. This reduced the necessary food, water and oxygen on-board to near zero, although it meant entrusting the entire voyage to the ship's autopilot. The thought of being in stasis with her life entirely dependent on a machine made her uncomfortable, but it would be worth it to be able to make the trip to Rand in less than forty-eight hours. She should arrive a full three days before Captain James, providing more than enough time to work with Remi and company to develop a plan. If they were still there. If not, it would be off to the next destination. With the courier ship at her disposal, she should be able to catch up with her sister before James was able to, even if it took her a little longer to figure out where the Nola was headed.
Winette's discomfort about entrusting her life so completely to an AI, especially one that she had not guided to maturity, showed in an elevated heart rate as the tiny ship undocked from Nexus. Even with her KII training, she was having trouble getting it under control.
“There is nothing to be afraid of, madam,” the ship's AI said with a tad more condescension than she would have liked. “I am a veteran of three hundred seventy two interplanetary jumps, the first three hundred five of those were as a much less reliable Hermes Mark 5. To date my success rate is ninety-nine point seven three percent.”
“One hundred percent would have been a much more comforting number.” Winette quickly did the calculations in her head. “What happened on the one unsuccessful jump?”
“It was my last jump as a Mark 5, and my circuitry was more than a little worn, leading to a small miscalculation prior to engaging FTL.” Winette thought she detected a touch of remorse in the machine's voice. “We wound up lost for two years at the edge of known space. It is why I never had the opportunity to be a Mark 6, by the time we were found Hermes was already building the Mark 7.”
“What happened to your passenger?” Winette's heart rate was climbing again.
“Sadly, I must report...” The Mark 7 activated the hypersleep injections, causing Winette to lose consciousness. Moments later the Hermes Mark 7 and its passenger were en-route to Rand.
* * *
Winette had left Tranda with a task, one which required the Saffronite see Jeremy James one final time before Equinox left Nexus. The encounter was at the airlock, just minutes before the ship's scheduled departure.
“I can't believe you were going to leave without even saying good-bye!” Tranda had even summoned some pretend tears for the occasion. “Whenever you or Nathan leave here, I never know if I am going to see either of you again! Is that any way to live, I ask you! Now, give me a hug pretty boy, like you are never going to see me again!” Tranda's use of the term of endearment usually reserved for Nathan told James all he needed to know.
The Saffronite pulled Jeremy in close, satisfied to sense a little arousal in the Captain, having seconds before noticed the look of revulsion on his face. At the height of the hug, Tranda slapped Jeremy's back three times, pricking his skin through his shirt, and drawing two microliters of blood. Winette had been confident that the sample, once delivered to the Kalifet embassy, would contain enough of the mutant hyperion ringworm DNA to synthesize a counter agent.
Tranda certainly hoped this was true. The only other option would be to kill Captain Jeremy James, and the universe just could not afford to lose an ass that fine.
CHAPTER XV
“My question is, why would a smart sophisticated girl, like you, want to go to a place as messed up as Rand?” Nathan was feeling a little rough, having just been soundly beaten at Janga by a Saffronite named Tranda. It had been his first experience with someone of the race, and although the loss was substantial, he had been impressed by the way the androgynous creature had moved.
The way he was feeling, he was glad he had set up the meeting with this potential passenger, Prescilla Anderson, at The Joint in Vegas, as opposed to one of the stuffier bars in Axis, where Nola was actually docked. The comforting jazz from the quartet on the stage, combined with the bottle of real Kentucky Bourbon on the table in front of him, were going a long way to helping his mood.
“It's because of the J-curve.” Prescilla was a doctoral student at Oxford University, on Old Earth, studying political science and sociology. “In the late twentieth century, James Chowning Davies used the J-curve to postulate that revolution comes when the reality of the circumstances of a population diverge significantly from the society's expectations. Historically this has been true for nearly every significant revolution including the French in the 1800s, the Russian in the 1900s, the Egyptian in the 2000s, and more recently, the revolt on Calibrite only two years ago.” The bookish blonde tossed back a shot of bourbon, demonstrating that she was, as she put it, a 'good ole southern girl' putting up with the Brits strictly to get the best possible education.
“What has been puzzling the hell out of academic circles is why has there been no revolution on Rand? Given the planet was populated by individuals who all considered themselves to be 'makers,' clearl
y meant to be successful in all things, with the expectation that the complete freedom afforded to them by the minimalist government on Rand would only lead to more success for them, the fact that ninety percent of the population is at subsistence level or below, and has been for centuries, should mean the planet would be in the throws of a revolution by now. Attempting to explain why it isn't is the subject of my PhD dissertation. I need to get to Rand to do field research.” She tossed back another shot, making the fourth she had put into her one hundred fifty centimeter, forty-five kilogram frame. One way or another, the evening was going to get interesting.
“So why not take a commercial flight from Earth?” Nathan was only on his second shot, he liked to keep his head clear, at least until business was done.
“Honestly, it was the expense. I am at Oxford on a scholarship. I took a low cost group tour from Earth to Vegas, with the hope of catching a ride to Rand with someone like you. Also, being in the Consortium means getting the best price when purchasing the gold I will need on Rand.” She grabbed one of Nathan's two untouched shots and tossed it back, then batted her big blue eyes at him. “What do you say, Captain Daniels, want to give me a ride in your spaceship?” Nathan wished he could say it was the first time his favorite pick-up line had been used on him.
Daniels had not even needed to open the passenger suite. Five shots and agreeing to a two thousand credit fare to Rand was all it had taken to get Prescilla into his bed that night, and she remained there the entire trip. Between their lovemaking, and sometimes even during it, all Prescilla talked about was her research and the socio-economic forces behind revolution and cultural change. When they reached Rand, Nathan had returned her two thousand credits in the form of ten grams of gold. Between the education and entertainment, he felt it was a bargain.
When they parted company five years ago, Prescilla had promised him that she had no intention of getting involved in the local politics, that she was simply going to interview Randians and observe the culture in order to finish her Doctorate. In the intervening years Nathan had made it a point to scan the degrees being awarded at Oxford each year. He never saw Prescilla's name. Now he knew why.
Although she had insisted she would just observe, Nathan had felt that her passionate feelings about the 'bill of goods' that had been sold to the Randian people would make it nearly impossible for her to not become involved. The fact that she had not appeared on the Oxford degree list had only strengthened that belief. Seeing her on the holo display confirmed it.
“Citizens of Rand!” Prescilla shouted into the the microphone. “Today is the day we declare the Worker's Revolution!” The crowd cheered and stumps were thrust into the air.
“For years we have held strikes, sit-ins, marches and demonstrations urging the government and their corporate masters to give us, the people of Rand, even the barest minimum of benefits afforded to those of other civilized worlds! Those things that we and our forbears were promised if we just worked hard enough for them! My brothers and sisters, have we worked?“
“Hell yes!” The crowd surrounding him shouted. Nathan realized the scene was probably playing out in countless cities across Rand.
“Remember, my friends,” Prescilla continued. “We have no anger towards independent business people who built Rand. Much like us, every day is a struggle for them. Our quarrel is with the conglomerates, who have progressively seized control of more and more of the Randian economy, reducing wages and working conditions in the name of bigger profits! It is time our economy worked for the people, instead of the conglomerates!
“We have the numbers, and we are peaceful. However, we cannot and will not allow any business with over fifty employees to open until the greed and excess that have poisoned this planet have been reigned in. In addition, we hereby declare all spacecraft grounded for the duration of the revolution. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause to off-worlders visiting our planet, but the criminals who have abused us for so long cannot be allowed to escape justice. We have the means to destroy any unauthorized spacecraft attempting to leave Rand, and we will do just that.” The onscreen presence of Prescilla Anderson continued with a litany of demands from the people of Rand.
“Good God, Prescilla,” Nathan muttered under his breath, or so he thought. “What have you gone and gotten yourself into?“
“Prescilla?” Remi asked. “Don't tell me you actually know her! Is there anyone in this galaxy you don't know, Nathan? Or should I say haven't slept with, in this case?”
“Why do you assume I've slept with her?” Nathan pretended to be a little irked.
“Well, she's of more than average attractiveness, or at least she would be if she had her hands, and you appear to know her. It stands to reason you've slept with her.”
“She definitely had hands at the time, and she was quite good with them.” The comment earned him a playful punch in the arm from Remi.
The recitation of demands had ended, and the camera zoomed in on Prescilla's face. “For years we have peacefully protested and struck as we have been arrested and had our hands, and even our lives taken from us. But no more! Today when they come for us, we will fight back, and fight for a better future for all! Today we declare REVOLUTION!” With her final word, the display dissolved into the word 'revolution.' Nathan spotted a corporate security squad approaching the crowd, grabbed Remi by the hand and the two of them ducked into the nearest storefront, which appeared to be a diner.
The pair sat down at the one empty booth. By the number of people apparently taking refuge in the diner, Nathan assumed it was a small operation, not part of one of the conglomerates. Looking around, the faded decor and and dated furniture confirmed this opinion. For the sake of all of those present, he hoped Prescilla's followers were as serious as he knew she was about protecting the small businesses. The girl he knew five years ago certainly would have made sure of that...
* * *
“The problem with the Communists is that they have a tendency to nationalize everything, not just the large businesses that are a drain on the economy.” Nathan and Prescilla had been enjoying a dessert, apple pie ala mode, if he remembered correctly, in a small dining establishment very similar to the one he and Remi were currently hiding out in. “In the end, that creates a situation that is no different than if all of the 'mom and pop' establishments are bought up or driven out of business by large conglomerates. In fact, it is worse in some ways as it alienates a huge swath of the society's middle class: the small business owners.
“If it wasn't for that move during the Bolshevik Revolution in the early twentieth century, we probably wouldn't be here today?”
“How's that?” Nathan asked.
“Ayn Rand's father was a small businessman in Russia at the time of Lenin's revolution. Ayn was a child at the time, and she experienced losing everything at the hands of the Bolsheviks. Her family eventually fled to the United States of America, where she wrote the books that became the cornerstone of Objectivism. Her simplistic division of society into two groups 'makers' and 'takers' was the result of her childhood experience at the hands of the Russian revolutionaries. Her father had been a 'maker,' a businessman, and everything he had ever worked for had been taken by the Bolsheviks, ostensibly for the good of society.” Prescilla paused both for effect, and to take a bite of pie.
“Which also explains her scoffing at 'society' as a concept, preferring to believe that it is no deeper than a collection of individuals.” Nathan was enjoying the new found insight to the birth of the Randian culture.
“The problem with a class based revolution has always been where do you draw the class lines. It happened in nineteenth century France as well. By the time the revolution came a majority of people were so poor that anyone who wasn't poor was considered rich. Sort of the 'if you aren't with us, you're against us' philosophy. If the Bolsheviks had only been a little more careful about where they drew the lines, we all might have been saved this unnecessary experiment.” She motioned out
the window with a gesture that seemed to take in the entire planet.
“Unnecessary?” Nathan was curious. “I have heard Rand called a lot of things: pathetic, inhumane, ungodly, to name a few, but never unnecessary.”
“From an academic standpoint, unnecessary is the best description. We, the people who study this sort of thing, knew from the outset that it wasn't going to work, because there was no effort to control sociopathy. In fact, it is encouraged.” Prescilla scooped up another bite of pie, but only after Nathan had taken a bite. “Imagine this piece of pie represents some available resource. There are two of us, and only one piece of pie, however there are a multitude of ways the pie could be divided between us ranging from perfect sharing, as we are doing now, to one of us taking the whole thing.
“At a very basic level, society is about how resources are distributed. The more equitable the distribution, the better the society functions. Economic sociopathy is when a single individual or group decides they deserve more than their equitable share, and undertake to get what they feel they deserve by any means necessary. On Rand they do it by wealth. One person gets the whole pie, because they are able to pay more for it than anyone else.
“The success or failure of a society depends on how well the sociopaths are reigned in. If you can't get a handle on the sociopaths, either through government or organized labor, eventually the economy goes to hell, and revolution is not too far off. Rand was doomed from the beginning, because not only were there no controls on sociopathy, it was actively encouraged! Add to that the fact that the planet was entirely populated by sociopaths or borderline sociopaths and everyone should have known it was doomed to failure.