by S. H. Jucha
” Alex continued to listen to Gino’s message and several others. More Leaders were interested in doing business with his people than he would have suspected, especially after Leader Ganesh’s cold reception in Council Chambers.
We better be successful, Mickey, Alex thought, or we’re going to disappoint a lot of people.
-33-
The passage to Hellébore was fraught with intrigue, and Alex was both the target of the intrigue and the one most ignorant of the collusion.
While Alex focused on their new world’s material infrastructure—fabrication facilities, housing, and an economic base—the people of the flotilla were discussing their new society. The Librans were anxious to choose a new name for their colony. No one wanted to build on the ashes of the old name, and they wished to honor the Admiral by asking him to choose. Unfortunately the direct approach failed. Requesting that Renée inform the Admiral of the people’s will resulted in Alex deferring the choice back to the people’s will. However, the people were adamant the Admiral choose the name. To break the impasse, Renée consulted the flotilla’s “devious one.”
The following morning as Renée and Alex enjoyed the refresher together, she informed him that the people had followed his request and settled on two choices for their colony’s new name.
“What are their choices?” Alex asked, happy that the decision had been taken off his shoulders.
“They are considering Alexandria and Racine,” Renée answered, working with difficulty to keep a straight face. “The people would like to know which one you prefer.”
Alex groaned in exasperation. The harder I wiggle, the deeper I sink, he thought. He proclaimed to Renée that he needed time to think—in order to stall the decision—but as Alex soon sat at his desk, considering the two names, one face and one voice came to mind. The Librans loved their elders and mourned the loss of the twenty-two hundred they were forced to leave behind.
“Wait,” Alex called to Renée, who was exiting the cabin. “We’ll call our new home Haraken.”
“I will inform the people that the Admiral has an alternative name. I’m sure they will graciously accept. Personally, my love, I rather liked Alexandria,” Renée replied and blew Alex a kiss. She strolled down the corridor, a broad smile on her face. The first person she commed was Senior Captain Tachenko, the architect of the subterfuge.
The people were delighted with the Admiral’s choice. They were no longer Méridiens or New Terrans. They were Harakens.
* * *
The next question the people sought to resolve was what form of society they would create. Here, they consulted the one person who knew both worlds, their Co-Leader, Ser de Guirnon.
Renée offered the people this advice:
Later, Tomas took a shuttle to visit Renée aboard the Rêveur and deliver the glad tidings that consensus had been reached. The people favored an elected government of an Assembly and President, and they chose Alex as the first President of Haraken. Tomas was surprised that Renée did not appear to welcome the news as he had expected.
“My apologies, Director Monti, that I do not show an appropriate appreciation for your announcement,” Renée replied. “Now I must consider the manner in which I will inform the Admiral of the ill news.”
As Tomas watched Renée walk away, he sympathized with her. If Ser considered the consensus to be bad tidings, he would not want to be the one delivering it to the Admiral.
Renée chose to wait until after evening meal once she and Alex were alone in their cabin. She took the added step of inviting him into the refresher, seating him on the shallow bench, and wiping him down with a cloth, massaging his tight muscles. She kept working until Alex closed his eyes, relaxing into her ministrations.
Later, when they were nestled together on the lounge, Renée broached the subject. “Alex, a consensus has been reached,” she said quietly.
“I didn’t know a question had been asked,” Alex replied, stroking Renée’s hair.
“The people have chosen to accept the concept of an elected Assembly and President,” Renée announced.
“I’m pleased,” Alex replied. “It must have been difficult for the Librans to forgo their society. Then again, I suppose their society did that to them first. We’ll need to hold nominations and have the people elect a President.”
Renée sat up beside Alex and studied the far wall rather than look Alex in the eye. “The people have already considered this and reached a consensus.”
Alex gently pulled Renée’s chin toward him. Her eyes were sympathetic. Then Alex intuited Renée’s unstated message. He stood up in agitation and began pacing back and forth. “No, no, no,” he kept repeating.
Renée stepped in front of Alex to stop his pacing, “I’m sorry, President Racine,” she said and threw her arms around Alex’s neck in a fierce embrace. “There is one very bright note in this, Alex,” she whispered into his ear.
The thought briefly occurred to Alex that Cordelia could never match Renée’s whisper. “What would that be?” he asked dejectedly.
Wearing a sheer wrap, Renée languidly pressed the full length of her body against him and said, “I understand I may be called the ‘First Lady.’ Is this not even better than ‘House Co-Leader’?”
Alex couldn’t think of a thing to say in reply.
Renée nuzzled Alex’s neck, murmuring again in his ear, “What is the next level above First Lady?”
When Alex jerked away from her, his eyes narrowing, she squealed and raced for their sleeping quarters with Alex hot on her heels.
* * *
In the early morning, Alex rose, donned a robe, and crept into the salon while Renée slept on. Drawing a cup of thé, he sat down at his desk, grateful for the brewer Renée had installed in the cabin. When he had asked her why a meal dispenser couldn’t be added, Renée had quipped that she would not dare deprive the people of the pleasure of watching their Admiral eat.
Alex wasn’t laughing at the memory. Instead he was feeling guilty. Last night, with the people’s decision still vexing him, he’d linked their implants as they made love. Renée had happily cooperated, feeding back her emotions and desires. The intimate twining of their implants had created a powerful synergy through which Alex vented his frustration.
Sipping his hot thé, Alex’s thoughts dwelt on his new position. By nature, he was a pragmatic man. As President, he couldn’t be the Admiral, but his people would still require a military leader. Looks like I won’t be the only one booted upstairs, Alex thought and smiled to himself for the first time since waking. He considered his next steps, which would include forming an Assembly and drafting a constitution. The latter subject would mean defining the President’s term of office. Alex decided to look on the bright side. One term ... just one term. I can do this, he thought.
Alex was drawing a second cup of thé when he heard Renée rise and head to the refresher. She was humming, and not softly. Apparently I’m the only one feeling guilty this morning, Alex thought, a wry smile twisting his lips. From his archives, Alex pulled up the list of initial actions he had prepared for their world’
s first leader. The irony that the list now belonged to him did not escape his notice. He reached out to Tatia.
Since Tatia’s remark was tongue in cheek, Alex chose to reciprocate, sending,
Tatia’s response was slow in coming, and Alex experienced a small thrill at being able to share the frustration.
Tatia finally replied.
After his comm with Tatia, Alex contacted Tomas and Eric.
After Tomas’s decades of Libran confinement, his thoughts had been focused on his newfound freedom, Terese, of course, and more recently, the grav-driven shuttles. Now he found himself listening to his new President describe a future where Harakens existed side by side with aliens and lived on multiple worlds, despite the fact that their people had not yet settled their first colony. Keep that young man with the four stars on his collar close to you, Tomas recalled Fiona Haraken essentially saying.
Silence greeted Alex’s statements. His Directors hadn’t yet considered the extent of the challenges they faced in creating a new society.
* * *
Alex took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Each elevation of title had taken him further and further away from his comfort zone. The only thing that kept him going was that good people depended on him, and he needed to ensure their well-being and security before he relinquished his responsibilities.
Z sent.
Z could scarcely contain himself at the thought of having the funds to direct his own mobility research. His comm burst to Julien and Cordelia outlined a myriad of potential uses of personal income. Driven by Z’s excitement, Julien and Cordelia began to have their own thoughts. Cordelia anticipated practicing her art in facilities that would be visited by the public. Julien was entertaining the notion of both he and Cordelia occupying human forms. New algorithms originated in all three SADEs at lightning speed, postulating alternate futures.
A chorus of enthusiastic responses hit his implant at once.
While Alex spoke, Julien was transferring his research at maximum rates, and Cordelia and Z accepted the data without security restrictions—such were the triumvirate’s bonds, forged through their efforts to survive the incursion of the Nua’ll into the Arnos system.
Cordelia remained unconvinced.
Alex was trying to puzzle a way to introduce his Méridien-trained SADEs to the concepts of fair-market speculation without disrupting their ingrained focus on accuracy. Their algorithms operated best
with facts not suppositions.
Z asked,
Cordelia reviewed her ethics programming, which was limiting her ability to embrace Alex’s concepts. She made some subtle changes to several programs. Cordelia sent.
Cordelia’s excitement over her understanding of the concept was infectious, and soon the SADEs were heavily entwined on scenario planning. Deep in their cores, hierarchal steps were reordered at the kernel level. From top to bottom, these steps became—self-preservation, safety of their people, the President’s well-being and support, fabrication of the traveler shuttles, New Terran investment, development of their Exchange, Directors’ income, mobility research, and finally … true freedom.
It took only ticks of time for the liner and freighter SADEs to realize the value of the opportunity. Each of those SADEs had harbored thoughts of independence and never dared express them.