by Ryk E. Spoor
“I think we have found a solution,” Saul said kindly, as General Esterhauer was carried away. “Hammering out the exact details and ratifying it may require a few more days, but from this sequence of events it is obvious that there are forces that do not want you to succeed…and that,” he continued, with a fierce twinkle in his eye, “makes me even more determined to see to it that you do.”
Chapter 56.
“No,” Jill Esterhauer said apologetically, “I’m afraid I have no leads for you.”
She smells…very straightforward. Wu sighed and nodded to DuQuesne, who grimaced.
“Yeah, I was afraid of that. Your AISage and your interface were suborned. According to the forensic scans, probably happened quite a while ago, but there’s no locking it to an exact date. Figuring out how it all happened, and who caused it…if we can do it at all, it’s going to take time.”
She shrugged. “I had a secure backup which could be used to do comparative repair, so I should be back to myself. The neurological effects of such a savage attempt to cascade my own brain and AISage into destroying each other are also reversing…thanks to Colonel Abrams’ quick actions.”
Oasis smiled sunnily. “All in a day’s work, Ma’am.”
“I’m glad you’re really recovering,” Ariane said finally. “I hadn’t really expected you’d have more information, either.”
“Captain Austin, I do want to make one thing clear. I have carefully gone over the events of yesterday, now that I know my mind is once more my own, and upon full reflection I stand by my words. I think our unknown adversary did little to change who I am, merely used that and would have pushed me over the edge into more extreme behavior had they been given that opportunity.” The general’s brown eyes suddenly brightened. “But I also stand by my willingness to keep an open mind, and I think Mr. Fenelon’s outline of a plan is a workable one.”
Wu could feel the release of tension throughout the room; he couldn’t help but smile, and Ariane’s grin lit up the room. “I think so, too.”
“I did some research in the hour or so before you arrived,” General Esterhauer continued, “and found a number of other precedents for similar arrangements in the past.” She shook her head. “Honestly, something like it should have occurred to more of us—and would have, I think, if we still actually had much in the way of governments.”
I don’t understand that. Seeing no reason he couldn’t speak, Wu Kung said, “Hey, General—what do you mean you don’t have much government? Someone must rule and others must serve, yes?”
“And do you serve or rule, Sun Wu Kung?” the general returned.
“Um…I do both. Or neither. I am no one’s slave and don’t care to be anyone’s master!”
There was a ripple of good-natured laughter. “Yeah, that’s about right, Wu. And that’s basically the way the whole solar system is, and has been for close on two hundred years. When people can have pretty much whatever they want for the asking, and when privacy and safety can be assured by the same technologies…well, pretty soon no one needs a government for much.”
“But how can…oh! Your wishing nanotechnology things!”
Jill Esterhauer did not quite succeed in hiding another smile as she answered, “Yes, the AIWish designs and similar systems. And when powerful government disappears and people are free to do what they will, when they will, without need to work except as they will…they think much less of governments, just as people in cities would often stop thinking about how much effort it took to produce the food they could purchase.”
Ariane nodded, catching his eye. “Which means, Wu, that most of us only encounter powerful governments in our simgames. Which we don’t usually think about when dealing with the real world. Only history buffs like Fenelon really think about those kind of things regularly.” She looked suddenly thoughtful. “Hmm. I just had an idea…”
As she spoke, Wu sensed someone else just arriving; the scent was familiar and non-threatening, so Wu did not turn suddenly but waited for the others.
“If it involves dragging me to your Arena,” came Fenelon’s tenor voice from the doorway, confirming the identity Wu’s nose had given him “we should discuss that idea soon. But not quite now.”
“What brings you here, Robert?” Esterhauer asked.
“Well, the Council was not idle after that little interruption. We reconvened shortly afterward and have come up with a much more detailed and yet, I think, simple approach which addresses both side’s needs.”
The Monkey King could tell that Mr Fenelon was now using that transmission trick, that was sort of like mindreading, to show Ariane and the general the overall plan. Wu knew he should get implants to receive such things—there were a lot of uses to this “headware” stuff—but it just wasn’t natural. A warrior’s body and spirit had to be kept pure.
“I like it,” Esterhauer said after a moment.
“So do I,” Ariane said. “So the emergency oversight group can only be activated by a two-thirds majority of the entire council?”
Esterhauer nodded. “And the oversight group itself can recall the Leader then by a simple majority; with seven members it is unlikely to deadlock unless one abstains.”
“We get to pick two members,” DuQuesne commented. “The SSC and CSF also get to pick two each.” He chuckled. “And the last one’s chosen at random. Sounds reasonable to me.”
“I already have one choice in mind,” Ariane said, and Wu raised an eyebrow. Her posture already shows her choice. Ariane pointed. “You, General Esterhauer.”
“Me?” Jill Esterhauer looked somewhat surprised. “I am much less likely to support you than many others are.”
“And that’s part of the point. I need the authority to do what has to be done, yes, and I can’t afford to be second guessed at every turn. But what I really don’t need is someone back home who’s afraid to shut me down if I start to go overboard. And one thing I’m damn sure of—you’re not afraid to do what needs to be done.”
General Esterhauer blinked, then laughed. “Yes, I think I proved that rather thoroughly yesterday when I decided your coup attempt needed to have a coup staged against it.” She nodded to Fenelon. “Put me down, then. I accept Captain Austin’s nomination. Let’s hope that there’s never any reason for me to take up that position.” She paused. “Hold on. This position won’t prevent me from going to the Arena, will it?”
“I hadn’t thought of that being a requirement,” Robert Fenelon said. “Do you think there’s a reason it should be?”
“Hell no,” DuQuesne said emphatically. “The opposite, I’d think—anyone who wants to make those kind of judgments really should at least spend a little time in the Arena and understand what the place is like. As much as anyone can, anyway.”
Ariane nodded. “Part of the whole point, really. I’d encourage the whole Council to find time to do a little visiting, and anyone who’s going to have a significant part in Arena affairs should spend a lot of time in the Arena, especially with anyone they think will be involved—Powerbrokers, trading partners like Olthalis or the Analytic or the Tantimorcan, and so on.”
“I’ve forwarded that recommendation…” Fenelon said, “and…the Council has ratified it as a recommendation with a strong incentive for those on the oversight group and any Arena-focused workgroups.” He grinned at Wu through his black and white beard. “One advantage of having almost no government is that what little we have can move fast.”
Wu laughed and did a quick flip of appreciation, brushing the ceiling with his tail as he did so. “Ha! You certainly do! I remember trying to get the Celestial Bureaucracy to do anything took months—if they were fast!” Belatedly, he remembered that none of that was real to these people, and he braced himself for the odd looks or worse. On the heels of that realization, the memory of the ruined suspension chamber came back from the place where he’d pushed it, and he felt the chill fear that all of it was lost—the friends, the loves, the enemies…his children, his world.
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br /> Instead of being either puzzled or derisive, Robert Fenelon nodded, smiling. “So I had heard. But—if it would not be too much trouble to ask—I would be fascinated to hear some details of the…” he hesitated, and Wu forced himself to pay attention to his scent. He’s trying not to offend me, and doesn’t know how to say it without making me angry or sad.
He shook off the mood and let a fanged grin show. “Details of the version of that world that I lived in?”
“Well…yes. I’m glad you’re not bothered by that.”
“I am, sometimes. But I can’t be bothered all the time, and now…Well, it may all be gone now. We don’t know yet. And if it is gone…then only my memories, only my words, will recall the Mountain of Fruit and Flowers, the Seven Celestial Dragons, the battle I had with Sha Wujing that threw down one mountain range and raised another…the flowers I first picked for Sanzo…” He looked down for a moment, then up with a smile less wide than his earlier grin. “Anyway, if it really interests you, I can talk about it until the sun has set and risen again.”
Fenelon chuckled. “Of course, in space the sun never sets.”
“Yeah,” DuQuesne said. “So let that be a warning to you.”
Chapter 57.
Ariane stepped into the Council Chamber, followed by Wu and the others. Her steps echoed in the large room, a sound noticeable because everyone in the room was silent, seated, looking at her.
And is that good or bad, I wonder?
Relax, came DuQuesne’s reply.
Yeah, chill out, Oasis sent. What’s the worst they can do, really? Reject your proposal. Then they’ll still have to deal with the fact you’re the big boss in the Arena.
Wu put a hand on her shoulder. It was just for an instant, the lightest touch, but it told her that Wu could sense her tension and was letting her know he was there.
I’m not worried about me, she thought to herself. With friends like these, I fear no enemies, really. But if they don’t go for it, I’m afraid for everyone else.
She halted a short distance from the podium, where Saul Maginot was the only person standing. “Commander Maginot,” she said, and nodded her head.
Saul nodded back. “Welcome back to the Council Chambers…Faction Leader Ariane Austin.”
She heard DuQuesne’s vindicated laugh, saw Wu give a triumphant leap, but for herself was only conscious of an immense sense of relief…followed by an even more tremendous feeling of weight descending upon her. Now I really am in the captain’s seat.
But she couldn’t allow any sign of that; reluctance or second-guessing—at least for this decision—were something she had chosen to leave behind when she set this all in motion. Instead she straightened. “Thank you, Commander.” She looked around the Council. “May I ask what the vote was?”
“Of the two hundred three members who were present—and therefore all of those eligible to vote in a closed session—there were one hundred eighty-seven votes for, no votes against, sixteen abstentions.” He stepped away from the podium. “Now, Faction Leader—”
“Ariane, please. Or if we are being formal, I think I’ve gotten used to being called captain.”
Saul grinned at that. “Rather as I’ve remained Commander Maginot since Hyperion, yes. Very well, Captain Austin, would you care to address the Council and give us your initial thoughts?”
Good thing I thought about this beforehand. It would be awfully embarrassing to have fought for the position and then have nothing to say.
She stepped to the podium and surveyed the room. “First, let me thank you all—those of you who voted for this plan, and those who chose to not vote against, but—I would guess—to accept what had happened and wait and see.
“I know it was a hard decision to make. Even with Mr. Fenelon’s solution, the Solar System has now vested me with more power than any human being has ever held—and I have the same power, or more, in the Arena.” The reality was sinking in, and she was suddenly appalled by the enormity of it all. “And to be honest, that scares the living hell out of me…and I hope to all the Gods that might be that it always does scare the hell out of me.”
She felt a headping, saw that it was the fully ratified copy of the Arena Leadership Accord that had been voted in that morning. “Pardon me for a second.” Mentor? Is it all there? Did they slip in anything?
I have examined this document for some four point three of your seconds, Ariane Austin of Tellus. There are some minor variations, but there is nothing changed which should be cause for alarm or distress. Doctor DuQuesne agrees. Mentor gave her a capsule summary of all the relevant details; she nodded.
She straightened again, having bowed her head as she absorbed all the information. “And I thank you again for essentially passing the Accord in its entirety. The changes you have made are acceptable—I won’t be giving anyone grief over them.
“The first order of business is to finalize the Oversight Group; after all, now that I’m up here, you need the mechanism to get rid of me.” A few chuckles came from the councillors. “I’ve already named General Esterhauer as one of our selections. As you’ve limited my list of successors to four, I’m choosing Thomas Cussler as the other member of the Oversight Group.”
Saul nodded. “I have no objection. Anyone?”
When no hands were raised or pings sent, Ariane smiled again and felt—just a tiny bit—more relaxed. “Good. That’s out of the way. You know, I think that may be the most fuss-free complete transformation of government in the history of mankind. Good work, everyone!”
Robert Fenelon laughed out loud at that, as did a few others; there were many more smiles around the Council Chamber now.
Shame I’ll have to be a killjoy. “Now, we have some pressing business to deal with. As you’ll recall, I ended up in the hands of the Blessed and very nearly dead—possibly worse than dead—because of the direct actions and choices of Michelle Ni Deng. Her actions were clearly criminal by any standards, but to this point the only thing I’ve done to her is hold her incommunicado.
“That’s because I need you to formulate a simple, but comprehensive, set of laws that deal with Arena-based issues. I think it’s clear from her behavior and the transcripts given me by Sethrik that she understood exactly what she was doing, and that it amounted to at worst treason and at best planned kidnapping and assassination. But I didn’t have a set of laws planned, we hadn’t determined who had jurisdiction in the Arena over other human beings, and so on. So I am turning Michelle Ni Deng over to the Council. You can decide what to do with her—within reason.
“That means that whatever you choose can’t just be a slap on the wrist; even though the laws didn’t exist, she knew what kind of crime she was committing.”
White Camilla rose. “What about Oscar Naraj?”
She’d expected that question. “I admit that I am still not completely convinced that Ambassador Naraj had nothing to do with Ni Deng’s actions. Given her position and his well-known attitude towards me, I think few of you would argue that I am not justified in that.
“But I have no evidence, he claims otherwise, and—giving him his due—he has proven himself highly capable in his designated field; already there are quite a few factions in the Arena who know him and view him in a favorable light. At this point I can’t trust him as a direct negotiating ambassador, but I will offer him the chance to work for me as a liason and advisor in political matters.” What was it DuQuesne quoted? Oh, yes. “Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.”
White Camilla nodded and sat down, obviously mollified if not entirely happy. Which is the main reason I’m taking the risk. A lot of members of the SSC and CSF Council were groomed for the position by Naraj; I can’t afford to alienate such a huge group right away.
Robert Fenelon raised his hand. “I’ll take point in that legal assignment, Captain—head up the committee and select members that understand that kind of thing.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fenelon. Given how quickly you solved our problem the
other day, I’m sure you’ll figure out how to make a system of simple laws that work.”
“Yes, right after the perpetual motion machine I’m patenting,” he said cheerfully. “You got anything else for us?”
“A few more things and then I’m done. First, I’ve already gotten a few pings about visiting the Arena. If you want to be involved in most Arena operations, you’re going to have to come up and see. But you need to remember that the Arena operates on its own rules all the time or you could get us all in trouble.
“Most of you will also have to take some time to acclimatize, since in the Arena you’ll have no AIs anywhere at all, including the AISages you have lived with ever since you were about ten.” She looked around, at Dean Stout, White Camilla, Jill Esterhauer, Saul Maginot, and all the others in the Council. “I have to emphasize this because we don’t think about that aspect much, that our AISages support virtually everything we do. When we made Transition the first time, there were exactly two functional people left out of our eight crew—Doctor DuQuesne and myself, both of whom deliberately minimized our AISage and automation dependence for most of our lives.
“The people who have been coming to the Arena since have all been carefully screened for this sort of thing, and even then, according to statistics Tom’s sent me, roughly fifteen percent of them have to go back to normal space, sometimes almost immediately. Most of them do appear to eventually adapt to the problem, but some don’t.”
She caught the multitudinous gazes again. “That means that almost all of you are likely to have some problems, and some small, but significant, number of you will not be able to go to the Arena at all, or at least not for years. Per the Accords, no one may be on the Oversight Group or in key Arena contact/strategy groups unless they can spend time in the Arena. This goes double for any candidate for Leader of Faction, of course; any Leader is going to have to spend a lot of time in the Arena.” She smiled, trying to put an apologetic edge on it. “That does mean that the people on the shortlist you approved all have to go to the Arena pretty much right away…and if they can’t cut it, you need to get replacements.”