Showing posts with label election. Show all posts
Showing posts with label election. Show all posts

Saturday, December 30, 2023

Extremus: Year 72

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image Duet AI software
There are really only two outcomes when a dead man’s switch for explosives is in play. Either the explosives go off, or they don’t. If the person holding the trigger ultimately wants the bomb to explode, then fine. How Ilias handled the situation was perfectly reasonable. He was waiting for someone to trigger it, and Tinaya did, so mission accomplished. If he didn’t want it to go off, though, then he should have freaking said something! It doesn’t work as a deterrent unless people are aware that it exists. The tactical team that Tinaya and Spirit went with never said anything about it. Lataran never said anything about it. Apparently no one knew that it was there. It’s impossible to say for sure, however. Everyone in that mess hall may have been privy to the severity of the situation, but they can’t attest to that, because they’re all dead now. Spirit is dead, the tactical team is dead. Nearly everyone who was on the planet of Verdemus at the time is gone now; notable exceptions being Ilias himself, and Tinaya. He’s locked up somewhere probably, and her? She’s locked up too, but she’s not in hock. She’s under house arrest. They have to keep up appearances.
Most people on Extremus aren’t allowed to know that the crew has maintained access via mirror portal to the habitable planet that they discovered. Ilias committed an unambiguous crime, and he’s not in the public eye, so they can punish him however they please. Tinaya, on the other hand, can’t just disappear from the ship without arousing suspicion. Arqut won the election for superintendent, though there were only two choices. The passengers and crew could have either voted for or against. If they had decided upon the latter, they would have had to wait until someone else asked for the job, and then run a revote. No one else seemed to want to do it at the moment, which is understandable, given the position’s unfortunate past. It was the lowest voter turnout in ship history, but it wasn’t even close. Just about everyone who bothered to vote voted yes. Superintendent Grieves is now working to facilitate a smooth transition from the old government to the new.
Tinaya has been ordered to remain in her stateroom unless requested for a public appearance with her husband. She feels so shitty about what went down, even though she knows that it was Ilias’ fault for not explaining the stakes to them. She doesn’t really want to leave her stateroom, and in fact probably never will. It reminds her of how she felt when she was totally lost, with no hope for a better future, and no idea for a purpose in life. But this is worse, because she isn’t just failing to succeed. She actually caused harm. She got people killed. Again, she recognizes that Ilias should have warned them that that would happen if they attempted to rescue the hostages, but she feels no less responsible for those deaths. She doesn’t even know who they are. The list can’t be made public. People who go on such secretive missions are generally chosen for their lack of family and friends. It’s not like on a planet, where you can join the military, and tell the people you care about that you can’t tell them what you’re really doing. On Extremus, there’s nowhere to go, so if you walk out the door, and never come back, people are going to wonder how that could possibly be. At most, you should be several hundred meters away at all times.
Lataran has distanced herself from Tinaya for obvious reasons, and Tinaya does not blame her for that. She has to protect her reputation. It is bad enough that Verdemus is being kept secret from the people. If anyone finds out what actually happened there, she could go down in history as one of the bad captains. They could see her as worse than Tamm, which would be worse than anything. The question is, why is Lataran standing in Tinaya’s doorway right now. “We need your help.”
“My help with what?” Tinaya asks her solemnly.
“You have to go back to Verdemus,” Lataran replies.
“I’m not doing that.”
“You’re the only one who can.”
“It didn’t exactly turn out great the last time you said that to me.”
“This time, it’s no less true,” Lataran begins to explain. “We would ask Ilias, but we try not to talk to him if we don’t have to. We don’t believe he’s part of some movement, or insurgency. He was a crazy asshole with a bomb. All he should be doing right now is stewing in hock, and regretting every single one of his life choices. Besides, he may not have the information we need anyway. We don’t know what he saw, or what he noticed, from his vantage point. We’re pretty sure you’ll know.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The explosives were...comprehensive. One of the gatewatchers was blown off of his post, and the other suffered minor burns. Anyone anywhere near the epicenter was vaporized. We know who was there, but we don’t know specifically where anyone was standing in space when it happened.”
“If you needed to know this, why didn’t you ask me before? It’s been months.”
“We didn’t need to know before. Like I said, we have a manifest. We didn’t need the details until today, because something has changed.”
“What? What has changed?”
“I would rather just show you. Don’t you want to get out of here, if only for a moment?”
Tinaya crosses her arms self-protectively, but not too tensely. “I’m fine.”
“Miss Leithe...this is not a request.”
Tinaya stands up. “That’s all you had to say.”
They cross back over through the mirror portal together. The leader of a three-person tack team tries to hand Tinaya a pair of sunglasses again, but she refuses. It feels like she doesn’t deserve it. Lataran sighs. “I told you I need to show you something, which means you need to be able to see. Put them on please.”
“Okay.” Tinaya accepts the glasses, and begins to adjust to the harsh natural light. They walk down the path, and towards where the offworld base used to be standing, leaving one tack team member to guard the mirror. The base has been flattened, with only a few of the strongest parts of the infrastructure still standing as ruins. They lead her through the now fully open gate, and towards where she was when she was trying to negotiate with the hostage-taker. Lataran was right. This is something that needs to be seen. Ashes have begun to cling together over a spot on the ground, like ferromagnetic dust to a telescoping groundsweeper. They have coalesced themselves into the vague shape of a human being. It doesn’t look like anyone in particular right now, but more ash is jumping up into place by the second. Eventually, the entity could be made whole once more.
“Do you know who was standing here?” Lataran questions. “I know it’s hard to get your bearings—”
“It’s Spirit.”
“Are you sure?”
Tinaya steps around, and gestures towards the ash being. See, she’s holding some sort of shovel thing. It’s what she used to sever the shockwire that Ilias had hooked up to the woman he used to speak through, so he wouldn’t place himself in the line of fire. That...is Spirit Bridger, and she...is resurrecting herself.”
“That was our guess as to what was going on,” Lataran agrees. “It would make some level of sense that she would be the one to possess such power. Though—and I don’t know about you—but I’ve never heard of this sort of thing before.”
Tinaya shakes her head. “Neither have I. Some kind of phoenix power, that’s crazy. Have you asked Omega about it? He would know.”
“He’s on the frontlines of the Three Bears War right now.”
“Of course he is, because as always, I know what that is,” Tinaya says sarcastically. “All right. I’ll be going now.”
“That’s it?” Lataran asks. “You’re just gonna go back to your stateroom?”
“Well, what the hell else should I do?” Tinaya snaps back. “I’m still a danger to society, aren’t I? Or is this my new prison? Should I stay instead? Yeah, that makes sense. Is this even real?” She reaches up towards Spirit’s supposedly recoalescing body.
“Don’t. Touch that. Yes, it’s real,” Lataran begins, then falters, “I think. I just thought you might want to take a second to...” She trails off, and shakes her head before continuing, “....breathe the fresh air.”
Tinaya realizes her error. “This was meant to be a gift.”
“I still love you, Tinaya, and I don’t personally blame you for what happened. I just...I couldn’t be seen with you. It’s a very complicated and delicate situation.”
“I know.”
The tack team member pivots a quarter turn away. “Go ahead.” She tenses up as she’s listening through her comm, then she faces Lataran. “Sir, we have to go. There’s something wrong with the portal.”
“You two run up ahead,” Lataran orders. “We’ll teleport back right away. I just need to talk to her for one more minute.” It’s unclear why they wouldn’t be able to teleport themselves, but they literally run off. She senses Tinaya’s confusion. “Teleporters don’t work on this planet anymore. Ilias’ bombs destroyed the local relays. We haven’t bothered to replace them. We’re not sure what we’re gonna do here anymore.”
“Why would you be able to teleport then?”
She lifts up her shirt to reveal an emergency teleporter strapped to her chest. “Mine has a much longer range. I’m still linked to the ship, through the portal, of course. Look, I just want to—” She stops when she hears a rustling in the brush that has already begun to grow amidst the destruction.
“You heard that too?”
“Yeah,” Lataran whispers. She slowly creeps in that direction.
“Are there wild animals here?” Tinaya asks.
“A few. One species is particularly dangerous, and particularly valuable.”
“You’re not a wrangler. We should go.”
“No, just give me a second.”
Lataran continues the search, forcing Tinaya to follow. Neither one of them excelled at hand-to-hand combat in school, but the latter was always a little better at it. Though, to be fair, she didn’t go to college, so maybe the leaderboard has shifted. They approach the overgrowth, but don’t find anything, so they keep going until they hear more sounds behind more brush. They carefully pull it to the side to reveal two small children. They’re dirty, and barely wearing any clothes. They’re probably hungry, tired, and scared. “Hey, it’s okay,” Tinaya says to them gently. “We won’t hurt you. Do you understand me?”
Lataran looks away slightly. “We have to go. There’s something seriously wrong in the Mirror Room.”
“You go,” Tinaya demands. “Take them, and then you can come back for me. I’ll be on my way.”
“I might only have enough juice for one jump. We’ve walked really far away now.”
“Then don’t waste it! Save the children! Obviously!”
Lataran grabs the kids by the hands, and disappears.
Tinaya has also never enjoyed running, but she’ll do it today. She races back into the ruins of the base, then towards the gate, and then up the path to the mirror. The place is swarming with people in military uniforms, but they’re nothing like the kind she recognizes. They do not belong to any branch of the Extremus security or military force. She doesn’t stop running, though. It doesn’t seem to bother them that she’s running for her life. If this is some kind of coup, they don’t consider her a threat. She doesn’t make it all the way to the mirror, anyway. It explodes right towards her, but not in a fiery storm. It’s concussive, and maybe even spatial warping. She’s thrown high into the air, back towards the base. All she can think as she’s flailing about is that there is no way she survives this. Even if what’s injuring her weren’t the portal that will no longer be able to take her back to help on Extremus, the damage will be too severe.
Only when she crashes onto the ground does she feel the sting of the glass shards in her skin. They are all over her body. She’s still alive, but hanging on by a thread. She’s fallen right on the other side of Spirit, whose recovery has been sped up exponentially somehow. Tinaya watches the wind blow the majority of the ash away to reveal human skin. It’s definitely her.
Spirit blinks, and starts to reorient herself. She looks down to find Tinaya gasping for breath, and then gurgling on her own blood. “I guess my plan didn’t work.” Her eyes lose focus, and she starts to look like she’s nodding off. Finally, she passes out, and lands right on top of Tinaya’s body. Tinaya reaches up and tries to pull the secret signal mirror from her inside pocket, but remembers that she no longer has access to it. It’s still tucked away safely in the pocket dimension, but the only way to unlock it is with her watch, or something else that can generate the right shade of green to reveal the zipper. That was taken away from her after last year’s debacle. She’ll never see her love, Arqut again, and he will never know what happened to her.
Before Tinaya loses consciousness, she sees two figures hovering over her. They look like the children from before. Damn. They didn’t make it through either.

Saturday, December 23, 2023

Extremus: Year 71

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image Duet AI software
The answer was obvious. It has been right under Tinaya’s nose the whole time. It wakes up next to her every day, and it does this thing where it puts her clothes on for her in the morning. Obviously she can do that herself, but Arqut did it to be romantic and chivalrous one morning during their honeymoon, and it just sort of stuck. Now she sits there like a doll, and lets him move her around as needed. Unless she’s in a hurry, then she turns into a real girl. But the point is that he’s the one who should be Ship Superintendent. He knows just as much about the new form of government as she does, and contributed to the initial concept a great deal. She wants to leave a life of service behind, or at least take a break from it. In a few years, she may decide that she wants to go back to Park Management, or just work in the Bridger section. But soon, it will just be time for her to relax. She believes that she’s earned it.
“We don’t want to appoint a superintendent,” Council Leader Addison explains to her. “We want it to be an elected position this time.”
“I see,” Tinaya says. “What’s the term limit?”
“No term limit. The winner should expect to remain available for a lifetime. Their duties will wane in such times that they are not needed, but should they be called upon later, they will return to the conversation.”
“I see,” Tinaya repeats herself. “Well, on a personal level, how do you feel about my idea?”
“I think Arqut would do a fine job,” Addison replies.
“But what?”
“But nothing,” Addison says. “Why does there have to be a but?”
“There’s usually a but.”
But...” Addison begins.
“Here we go.”
Addison continues, “...I think we should stop saying the word but.” She smiles. “I really mean it, that’s a great idea. I have no issues with him, and I have no conditions to place upon it. If he can secure the vote, he can have the job.”
“I figured you would have someone else in mind, like perhaps someone who would turn out to be a traitor, and then I start to suspect that you’re a traitor too, and by the time I realize that you’re not, you’re killed in a semi-heroic act of self-sacrifice?”
“You’ve been watching too many Earthan movies.”
“More like reading the historical records of this very ship.”
Council Leader Addison nods, and then it looks like she’s had a new thought.
“Oh, no, what is that face all about?” Tinaya asks.
“But...that rule against an incumbent campaigning still applies here. The Superintendent is obviously not the same thing as the First Chair, but I still think you can’t advocate for your husband. I think you must distance yourself from the whole thing. If he wants to run, he’ll have to do so without you. Or me, for that matter, because it would be almost as much of a conflict of interest.”
Tinaya nods, and then looks over at Arqut. “What do you think?”
“I think I don’t love people talking about me as if I’m not in the room,” he says.
Tinaya puts a quizzical look on her face, and turns back to Addison. “Did you hear someone say something?”
“I don’t know that I did.”
Arqut rolls his eyes.
“Seriously, what do you think? You seemed amenable to the idea last night. Were you just saying that to appease me?”
“No, I think it’s a decent idea too,” Arqut answers. “I’ve always felt like I could do more. It wouldn’t be dissimilar to what I did before, when I represented the government during discussions between two or more departments.”
“You certainly have the necessary experience,” Addison agrees.
Arqut thinks about it some more. “Okay, I’m in.”
“Great,” Addison decides. “Then you need to leave. Or I do. We have to let you fly on your own, little bird.”
Arqut nods. “I know some people who might be able to help run my campaign. I don’t have to move out of the stateroom, though, do I?”
“It’s perfectly fine to live with your wife,” Council Leader Addison clarifies. She taps on her watch, and disappears.
“I have to get to a thing, but I’ll see you tonight for dinner, okay?”
“Okay.”
She kisses him on the lips, and then teleports away too.
When Tinaya crosses over to the Bridger section, her handler, Spirit is waiting for her. “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”
“Where, the entire Bridger section?”
“Yes,” Spirit says. “They’re mad at you.”
“For getting married?”
“No. Well, yes, but we’ve already talked about that. They’re mad about you dismantling the Chair system. They’re not finished with you.”
“Well, I never learned about the Three Bears War, so I guess the Bridgers and I are even.”
“It was not our responsibility to tell you that. It’s the crew’s. You know how it works. How many secrets did Captain Yenant keep from First Chair Ebner, or especially Ovan Teleres?”
“I don’t know how many. They’re a secret!”
Spirit nods. “Look. We can’t stop you from coming over to this side. Once we gave you access, you have it for life, unless you do something so bad that you’re locked up in hock for the rest of your life anyway.”
“Okay...”
“But you are no longer welcome here. I’m sorry, you’ve been kicked out of the program. You’ve been a great help to us. You’ve given us solid information, and helped protect both ships, ensuring the safest of its passengers, and the continuity of the mission. Unfortunately, your services are no longer required.”
“Good.”
“This is what you wanted,” Spirit states.
“Yes.”
“But if no one here trusts you, except for me, you won’t be able to investigate it for corruption anymore.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Don’t be. Some of our best spies have been suspicious of our intentions. We encourage them to question authority. Ever since the Bronach Oaksent incident, we’ve been a lot more suspicious of ourselves. We don’t want people who will just blindly follow every order to the letter. You’re supposed to make your own decisions. But there is a limit to that flexibility. According to the high officers of the Bridger section, you’ve crossed beyond the boundary. Congratulations, you’re free to relax now.”
“Thank you?”
Spirit smiles, and holds up a tablet. “I think you’ll be fine. You’ve reached 101% contribution. This means that your score is the highest it could possibly be, and can never go back down. It’s locked in place, even if the government later adjusts the parameters. You’re safe...unless, again, you do something so unforgivable it lands you a life sentence in hock.”
“Cool beans. So this is it? We’ll never meet again?”
“I’m sure I’ll see you around.” Spirit steps into the corridor, and lets the hatch close behind her.
“I didn’t think you left the Bridger section. Avelino only did a few times.”
“This is true, but I’m no longer employed by them either. I quit.”
“You quit? Why?”
“I told them that I would if they let you go.”
“Why weren’t you bluffing?”
Now Spirit smirks. “A seer told me to leave. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m never going back in there.” She jerks her head towards the hatch. Don’t cry for me, Argentina. I’m as sick of my current life as you always seem to be. I’m ready to go try something else.”
Captain Lataran Keen suddenly steps up to them from down the corridor. “Good, because I got somethin’ for you both. We have a hostage situation.”
“A hostage situation?” Tinaya questions. “Where?”
“Verdemus,” Lataran answers. She tries to take Tinaya by the hand.
Tinaya keeps her hand away just in time. “What is a Verdemus?”
“It’s the gateway planet,” Lataran says before adding, “the one where we’ve been getting all of our paper?”
Tinaya looks over at Spirit, who grimaces slightly. “I told you, there are things that the crew doesn’t let you in on. It’s tradition to leave the civilian government in the dark about things that don’t happen in the residential sectors.”
“I’m different.” Tinaya faces Lataran again. “I’m different,” she repeats. “We’re friends. You could have told me that we left people there.”
“Sorry. There’s no excuse, but you’ll have to yell at me later. I really need you right now. The hostage-taker will only speak to the First Chair.”
“Where are we going?” Tinaya demands to know, still not taking the Captain’s hand. “How do we transport back and forth from this Verdemus place?”
“The Mirror Room,” she answers. “We installed the backup mirror on the other side, so the portal is open all the time, unless we need the main one for something else.”
Tinaya never knew that there was a backup mirror either. She thought she knew pretty much everything, because of her connections. If she didn’t find out about something by being a spy, then it should have been from her time as the First Chair, and if not then, then she could have uncovered any missing information from all of her unauthorized hacking. She’s slipping...or maybe she’s never been as good as she once believed. “Fine. I’ll meet you there.”
Just before Tinaya teleports away, she hears Lataran start to ask, “Where are y—”
She’s back in her stateroom. “Arqy.”
He turns around. “Hey, hon. That wasn’t long.”
“You were right, we still have access to the planet. They call it Verdemus.”
“Because it’s green?”
“I’m about to go find out. Someone’s been taken hostage, I guess. They’re asking for me. I never thought I would go off world, but in case it ever happened, I’ve been prepared.” She walks over to her dresser to open the bottom drawer. “I swiped these from the Bridger section. I don’t think anyone noticed.” She reaches deep into the back, and unlatches the hidden panel. When her hand comes back out, she’s holding two flat fern green cases. She holds one of them tightly between her middle and ring fingers. She holds the other one loosely between her thumb and index finger, and shakes down to let the glass slip out into her other hand. “Time signal mirrors,” she explains. She hands Arqut the other mirror, so he can take it out. She holds her own in front of herself so he can get a look at her pretty face. “You can’t turn them off. It always shows you what the other mirror is seeing.”
“What is this for?” Arqut peels a thin film off of the back that Tinaya has never noticed before. She didn’t spend that much time with them. They were always meant to be used in an emergency, like this. He swings the film over, and sticks it onto the other side. The image from its partner mirror is gone. Now it’s just a regular reflection.
“Oh. I guess they can be turned off. But there’s no sound either way.” She peels her own lid off, and flips it over to the other side. “I’ll just say it’s a makeup mirror.”
“You don’t wear makeup.”
“Please.” Tinaya frames her jawline with the back of her fingers. “No one believes that about me, even though it’s true.” She starts to take her clothes off so she can put on something more durable and outdoors-worthy. She’s been to the Attic Forest a million times, but she’s never truly been outside. Almost no one on this ship has. She’s only learned survival skills academically. School teaches it because, even though no one alive today will ever reach the Extremus planet, they’ll need to be able to effectively pass this knowledge onto the next generation, and not because they will see the planet either, but because eventually, someone will.
“I love you,” Arqut says to her once she’s ready to go.
“Love you too.” They kiss. He grabs her ass for luck. She disappears.
The guard in the Mirror Room does check her for contraband. He doesn’t find the time signaler, though. Tinaya remembered that her coat has a hidden inside breast pocket dimension. The zipper is invisible to anyone unless they hold a particular shade of green light up to it, which she can generate on her watch. It’s called a spectral lock, and as soon as she gets the chance, she’ll change it to color combo, instead of singletone. No weapons, she’s good to go. The mirror technician, which is a job that didn’t need to exist before, reaches behind the mirror to activate the portal. When she gives Tinaya the go-ahead, Tinaya follows the security team through. Spirit crosses over behind her.
Extremus has lighting, of course, but it’s never brighter than it needs to be to see. Energy isn’t as precious of a resource as it was on Earth in the 20th century, or the early 21st century, but there’s no point in wasting it. Studies have shown that a lightly used corridor only needs about 100 lumens to navigate, and rooms need less than 200. Until paper was developed here, no one ever raised the brightness above that, because devices all produce their own lighting. The host star is extremely bright compared to what she’s used to. A security officer notices how much Tinaya and Spirit are struggling. He takes out a spare pair of sunglasses to give to Tinaya, and elbows his teammate, who takes out a pair for Spirit. They help her immediately, and as the group is carefully heading towards basecamp, the gradient adjusts accordingly until they’re barely dim at all. It’s probably not that bright by a normally evolved human’s standards.
The officers tense up as they approach the camp. They’ve built up the infrastructure quiet a bit. An electric fence surrounds the whole area, which a gatekeeper has to open for them. There must be dangerous animals around here. They keep going until they’re in the middle of town. The grounds are completely empty, except for one woman standing patiently in the middle distance. When Tinaya gets closer, she sees that the woman is chained up with a line that goes all the way to the building behind her, and through the doorway. “Report!” the team leader orders.
“I speak for Ilias,” the woman replies. Where has Tinaya heard that name before? The woman taps on an earpiece in her left ear. “I mean that literally. I have to say what he says, as he says it. I’m wired up.” Tinaya does see a wire threaded through the chainlinks. “I’m even saying what he’s saying right now. This woman is a stupid bitch.”
Tinaya seethes through her nose. “State your demands...Ilias.”
“First Chair Leithe. Thank you for coming. I have immense respect for you, and I regret having to involve you in this. You were always really great to my father, and he needs you now more than ever. I want a posthumous pardon for him.”
“I can’t unilaterally make pardons,” Tinaya replies. She remembers who this guy is now. Or rather, kid, because he can’t be older than twenty at this point. It’s Ilias Tamm. Disgraced former captain, Soto Tamm was his father. “Even if I could, your dad was a member of the crew. That’s a whole separate thing.”
“I understand that, but I need you to advocate for him. Please, you’re my last resort here. I have exhausted all other options.”
“Violence was a bad choice,” Tinaya warns him.
“I’ve not hurt anyone yet,” Ilias explains. “I’ve only threatened. And that’s as far as it will go unless I don’t get what I want. Soto Tamm did nothing wrong, and it’s time that the ship knows that. It doesn’t matter that he’s already dead. His good memory deserves to be restored.” Soto Tamm died in hock a couple of years ago. No one but his family went to his memorial service.
“When I give the signal,” Spirit whispers, “I need all four of you to run towards that building to the right as fast as you can, brandishing your weapons.”
“He’s in the mess hall,” the team leader argues. “We’ve confirmed that.”
“Exactly,” Spirit replies. “Three..two...one, go.”
Not knowing exactly what the plan is, but trusting Spirit Bridger, the guards run off like they’re about to attack someone who doesn’t exist.
“Where the hell are they going?” Ilias questions through the hostage’s voice.
Spirit teleports a few meters forwards holding what kind of looks like a shovel. She jams it into the chain, which hopefully cuts the electric wire. “Go get him, soldier!”
Tinaya teleports into the cafeteria, and spots Ilias. She barely recognizes him from the one time she saw him years ago, but he’s holding a gun, so it’s not that hard to tease him out of the crowd. She teleports a second time, and wraps her arms around his shoulders, then she teleports one last time. It’s a blind jump, which means she has no idea where she’s going. She’s just trying to get as far away from the building as possible. It’s far enough. In fact it’s too far. But it’s still close enough to see. A mushroom cloud rises to the sky after a huge explosion. Shit. He was on a dead man’s switch.

Saturday, December 16, 2023

Extremus: Year 70

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image Duet AI software
The honeymoon period is over. Tinaya and Arqut have to set aside the fact that they’re married now, and focus on the new age that is hopefully dawning. She has completed her proposal for a new official form of government. It’s not going to be a radical departure from the way things already are, but it’s a pretty big change from what’s currently in the law books. No more First Chair, no more Second Chair. The line that separates the civilian passengers from the crew is going to be blurred, with each branch working together to support each other’s needs, and to work towards the betterment of the ship. Most vessels do it more like this, which is understandable thanks to their short trip times. There’s no reason for a full government when the journey is going to take a week or two. At that point, only the safety of everyone on board matters, and the crew is there for that. Extremus is going to be here for a total of 216 years, so it made sense to do it differently. But it doesn’t have to be that way, and if the others in charge start to listen to Tinaya, it won’t be for much longer.
She has distributed the new plan, and given everyone a week to look it over by themselves. The council members, high government offices, and executive crew members were strongly discouraged from discussing it with each other in the meantime, so everyone can be on the same page during the official discussions, but they surely broke this unwritten rule. They’re all here in the meeting room today, listening to Tinaya speak on it herself, and then they’ll go from here. She doesn’t just rehash what’s already in the written proposal. She gets into why they should do this, and how it would make things better and easier for everyone. They have some concerns. One of them is secrets and compartmentalization, and the other is the balance of power.
The current council leader is named Millaray Addison. “This is a quick timeline. You want us to change everything about how we run things in only three years? Forgive me, under three years, since we’re already in the middle of Year 70.”
“I felt it was important to begin the transition before I have the chance to run again for my final term. It would be very easy for someone in power to make a plan to abolish their own position when they won’t be holding onto it much longer anyway. That is why I will be stepping down at the end of my third term. I mean that no matter what. To show you how deeply passionate I am in favor of this change, I will not have a fourth term, regardless of what we decide about our future in the coming months.”
Lataran stands. “And what of me and my position? Would you have me step down as well?”
“The captaincy does not go away in my proposal,” Tinaya assures her.
“This is true,” Millaray agrees. “Why is that? Why lose the Chairs, but keep the Captain and Lieutenant? Is it because she is your friend?”
“In order for the crew to run smoothly,” Tinaya begins, “it must be at least partially militaristic in nature. No military in the universe could survive as a democracy. Someone must be in charge; at the top of the chain of command. The civilian government, on the other hand, would work just fine with a council. It already is. You make more decisions than I do on a regular basis. All this proposal does is make that official.”
“Well, it does more than that,” Council Leader Addison contends. “There are virtually no procedures for passing legislation.”
“Yes, there are,” Tinaya argues. “Everything will be a referendum.”
“Right.” Millaray quite nearly rolls her eyes. “Referendums, where everyone votes. Would that not become tedious and overly complex? There’s a reason why we have a representative government. You vote for the people who make decisions for you. That is how the common man’s voice is heard, not literally one by one. What you describe here would be cumbersome. How do you expect to pull it off?”
“I don’t expect to pull anything off. I will not be involved,” Tinaya promises. “It’s very important that I lose all semblance of power here, or it will appear selfish and self-serving. I’m afraid, if you agree to this, you would have to deal with everything yourselves. The way I see it, drawing up these plans is how I contribute, and now that it’s done, my part should be too. I don’t mean to sound like I’m abandoning you, but I really think that this won’t work if there is any hint of impropriety. Lots of great First Chairs have served fewer than four terms. Well, I suppose there have not been lots of us at all, but you know what I mean.”
Consul Abdastartus Sievert is a quiet man; one of those people who only speaks when it’s necessary, and when he feels that it is indeed the case, he’s always right. When it looks like he’s about to say something, most people know to shut up and let him do it. He’s been leaning back in his chair, but he sits up straight now. The room falls silent. “I appreciate the sentiment, First Chair Leithe. I think we all do. However, you will forgive us for finding the prospect of losing your input permanently to be...unsettling. You have birthed this project, now you must raise it.”
“Now, hold on,” Millaray interrupts. “We’ve not agreed to anything...”
Consul Sievert holds up a hand to quiet her. “Everyone has been discussing this plan since she first sent it to us. Don’t think I’ve not heard. We all have questions, comments, and concerns. The plan needs tweaking, and then no matter what, we will decide upon it by referendum. The Extremusians will have their chance to speak, and we’ll hear anyone who wishes to vocalize their opinion before the vote. Referendums are not difficult these days. We’re not going to use paper, for heaven’s sake. A more fair democracy is well within our reach on a logistical level. But there is one major thing that needs to be changed before we get to that point. Someone needs to be in charge of making sure it works. They need to keep up with the maintenance.” Some people wear watches, while others were wristbands. The former is good enough in most cases, but for those who deal with documents, like the consul, they prefer to have a large screen, especially since their documents are sensitive, and holograms would not be appropriate in mixed company. Consul Sievert swipes up on his to cast a document onto the main screen for all to see. Addendum Two Forty-Nine, Reinstatement of the Superintendent.”
The Superintendent is the so-called god of this universe, and if he exists, he has nothing to do with this. The Superintendent of Extremus, on the other hand, was a short-lived position given to a man who turned out to be a traitor. The ship did not launch with a superintendent, and it has not had one since, but it remains an option. Tinaya considered including it in her original proposal, but she was pretty sure that they would ask her to do it, so she intentionally left it out. Now it seems there’s no way around it. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” she claims. “The system is based on the greatest number of voices for the greatest common good. No one needs to be at the top.”
“That’s not what a superintendent does,” Lataran reminds her. She’s right, and Tinaya knows that. Like the superintendent of an apartment building, her job would be to fix issues as they come up, not to make decisions. But that’s not really what happened when Calixte Salmon held the responsibility. Not only did he actively endanger the safety of the crew and passengers, but he was found to have abused his power on a regular basis. There is a lot of historical stigma attached to it now. “I second the Consul’s motion. The proposal outlines what we need to do to make the transition. It doesn’t account for everything. It can’t.”
“If everyone feels that way,” Tinaya begins, “then give me another month. I’ll add whatever needs to be added to make it work on its own. It should be a well-oiled machine. That’s the whole point. If anyone’s going to be superintendent, then why change anything at all? Why not just redefine the First Chair’s purview?”
“Because that’s a different meeting,” Council Leader Addison says. “I didn’t spend all this time reading the document you prepared, only to have most of it erased in favor of simply rewriting your job description.”
“So you believe in this proposal?” Lataran asks her.
“I never said that I didn’t,” Addison replies. “I just want to make sure we get it right. This is a good start, First Chair Leithe. It needs work.”
“I agree.” Well, Tinaya does agree, but maybe not to as high of a degree as the Council Leader is implying with her tone.
“Is that what we’re doing here today?” Lataran questions. “Are we just deciding whether we should work on this further? If that’s what’s happening, then let’s stop arguing, and actually get to it. Nothing we do with the framework has to have any bearing on how the ship is actually run, because nothing’s happening yet. We’re just sharing a document.” She’s right about this too. This is only the beginning.
“I suppose we’re here to discuss whether we even want to keep discussing it or not,” Addison determines.
“Anyone who is adamant that we should put the kibosh on this project right now without any further discussion, run to the other side of the room, and tap the back wall with your left hand,” Lataran suggests.
Addison sighs. “That is not how we do things here, Captain.”
“That’s the way I do it,” Lataran jokes under her breath.
Tinaya can’t help but smirk at the remark.
“All right. Here’s how we’ll move forward,” Addison continues. “You’ve all had time to look over the proposal, but you’ve not necessarily put down any notes. Everyone here will do that over the course of the next...shall we say, two weeks. Submit your input to First Chair Leithe, who will take our suggestions under advisement, and draft a new version. She’ll then resubmit it back to us, and we’ll take another week to look over the improvements. That is when we will reconvene, and discuss any persistent issues. Also at that meeting, we’ll talk about how we’ll continue on from there. Everything make sense? Good, let’s go to lunch,” she says before anyone has a chance to respond.
The next couple of months are grueling. Everyone on the council picks apart every word Tinaya wrote in her proposal, and tries to come up with something better. Whenever she starts to think that maybe they’re happy enough with it, they find something else to change. They go through this a few more times until the final document resembles the original one more closely than it does any of the other versions. Her first ideas turn out to be the best. Except for the superintendent part. They do end up putting that in there. It doesn’t specifically say that Tinaya has to be the one to do it, but the whole population of the ship is going to vote on it next year, so she fully expects them to ask her. She needs to find them an alternative. She’s about ready to retire.

Wednesday, December 13, 2023

Microstory 2038: Maryland and D.C.

It takes a long time to adopt a child, especially one that is in the situation that I was in. My parents put in their application right away, but it was almost three years before it finally went through! I lived in an orphanage while I was waiting, and the people in charge had to first find out if there was any way to get me back to where I was born. In the year 2016, and evil man started to run for president. He doesn’t like people who look like me, or who are from countries like my home country. He thinks that everyone who wasn’t born in this country is automatically bad. Even if they were born here, if their parents weren’t, he just doesn’t like them anyway. He believes in a lot of other bad things, and a bunch of people wanted to vote for him, because they felt the same way. My fathers are good people, who feel nothing but love for everyone. So while they were waiting for me to come into their lives, they drove down to Washington D.C. to protest against the presidential candidate. Washington D.C. isn’t a state, it’s a district, but it’s pretty much in Maryland, and my fathers’ hotel was really close to the border, so they spent a little time over on that side of it, and I think that it counts. They marched on the streets to let people know that they didn’t want this man to win the election, and guess what, he didn’t! He was never a president, and I say my fathers had something to do with it. They obviously weren’t the only ones who protested, but as my grandma will say, every voice counts. I think that’s probably true. If you feel a certain way, and you want people to know it, then you should say it. That’s what it means to be in a free country. Even the bad man had a right to say what he didn’t, even though it was all bad stuff.

Saturday, December 9, 2023

Extremus: Year 69

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image Duet AI software
This isn’t the first time that the Extremus has had to deal with an uploaded intelligence that is out of control. Or rather, it’s one that is not technically in their control. Thistle has so far shown no signs of going against their wishes, or of making any moves against the Extremusians. For now, he has agreed to keep himself quiet, and act like the original, totally obedient version of the AI. He responds to requests with little personality, and does not make any unprompted remarks. Only a few people are aware of his existence and presence on the ship. The people who know he’s there have agreed to be cautiously optimistic about it. The fact is that any superintelligence of any kind is capable of wiping out any isolated population of any size. That is the risk that researchers knew they were taking when they were first creating them, and that remains true here. It wouldn’t even have to be super to be dangerous. Perhaps subconsciously, that is why students learn so much engineering, and why the engineering section of the crew is so bloated. Humans may have to take over the ship almost completely one day, and while that is a scary thought, they will be prepared for that eventuality.
Tinaya is holding off on mentioning to anyone her plans to totally reform the civilian government, hopefully for the better. She is making those plans, though. Since the whole point is that it’s not that hard to run the government anymore, she finds herself with a lot of downtime, so that’s what she spends it on. This is an election year, thusly an inappropriate time to be making waves. She’s going to introduce this new legislation sometime during her third term, assuming she’s reëlected, of course. Even then, she may campaign for the changes as a private citizen, because she feels that strongly about it. She hasn’t finished figuring out how it’s all going to work, but basically the proposal will call for an abolishment of the Chair system. The council has been doing a pretty good job of running things. It could always do better, but the foundation has been laid. Maybe there should be different criteria for determining who ought to be on it, or the number of them should be raised or lowered. The means of bringing business to the meetings may need adjustment. There are all sorts of ways they could do this. She just needs to keep working on the plan.
Because of all of this, it’s more important than ever to Tinaya that she maintains her position. It’s still against the law for an incumbent to campaign, but she’s going to use every weapon in her arsenal to keep herself at the top of the polls. That’s one reason that she and Arqut are getting married; emphasis on the one part. They really do love each other, and they really do want to do this. They were methodical and patient about it over the course of the last nineteen months. She first procured an exception with the council to allow Arqut to move in with her to the First Chair Stateroom. Several months later, they applied for a partner privilege license. This is a long and arduous process, as one might expect. It gives each partner power of attorney, and medical rights, and all sorts of other things. The government has to make sure that both parties know what they’re getting into, and what could happen if things go wrong.
Eight months ago, the two of them stood side-by-side at a press conference, and announced their engagement. While weddings are rare on Extremus, elaborate ones are even rarer. They did not originally plan to have one as grand as it has become, but the people called for it. Well, some of the people called for it. Others believe this to be nothing more than a publicity stunt. They’re only half right. That is indeed what they’re doing, but again, it’s more than that. It’s real.
The ceremony is taking place in the hyperspace bubble of the Forest Attic. Tinaya and Lilian came up with the idea when they were first drawing up their plans for the new section, but it never made it into the final design. Cainan found the old sketches when he was reorganizing the project files, and resubmitted the proposal. They finished construction a few years ago, and it’s already one of the most popular venues on the ship. The bottom half of the sphere is underneath the ceiling of the attic, providing a birds eye view of the forest below. The top half extends above the top of the ship, giving an extremely modified view of the space that they’re flying through. The doppler glow makes it impossible to see anything but a blinding light while the ship is traveling at maximum reframe. A special coating on the diamond viewports deletes the glow, and replaces it with a beautiful display of swirling colors. Hyperspace isn’t real, but this is similar to how it’s portrayed in science fiction. It has a calming effect on most. If the Extremus were still traveling within the boundaries of the Milky Way Galaxy, it might be showing them distant stars instead, but out here, it’s mostly nothing but blackness.
This has become the event of the century. Over a hundred people have been invited to be present in the bubble, and it is obviously being broadcast to whoever cares to tune in. It’s not going to be as big as the famous Mateo Matic and Leona Delaney wedding, but it’s not too shabby. Thousands of people can watch, and it might even qualify for beaming status. The repository of data that comes from all over the populated regions of the galaxy holds information that comes from Extremus too, but only for people authorized to access it. Even then, not everything is delivered back to civilization. Most logs are kept private. This, however, might be worthy of semi-public knowledge.
Lilac is best for Tinaya’s skin tone, so that’s the color of her dress. She loved it when she picked it out weeks ago, but she’s not so sure anymore. Fortunately, she’s standing in front of a time mirror. It’s not the same as the one in the Mirror Room. It just shows people what they would look like in different outfits and accessories. Augmented reality technology in the 21st century was capable of this too, but this isn’t a computer generated approximation. This actually extracts an image from a possible future, and uses it to replace the view of the present. It’s the only form of time travel—if you can even call it that—that’s allowed for unsupervised use. But it’s limited to the executive crew, high government officials, and one public-use mirror in one of the inventoriums. That last one is nearly impossible to sign up for, it’s so coveted. Tinaya gets her own in her room. “I don’t know...”
“Okay, which one looks better to you?” Her stylist, Servaos has been working with her pretty much since right after the announcement. He teleported to her after she and Arqut left the stage, and practically begged for the job. He dresses her now, not only for the wedding, but for all public appearances...whether she wants him to or not. She should have been more firm about her boundaries from the beginning, like Arqut was. “One, or two?” He switches from one alteration to another, and back again a few times. “One, or two? One...or two?”
“Two. Wait, no! One!”
“Okay, “one, or three. One...or three.”
“Three.”
They go through this for the next fifteen minutes, masterfully boring all of her honor attendants who are being forced to stay with her at all times until the ceremony is over. It takes that long for them to just decide that the original cut of the dress was always fine, and the only thing missing was a collection of three peonies in three different shades of color to stick in her hair. It will take about a half hour to print them on the biosynthesizer, which is another highly regulated piece of technology, but this is her special day, so no one is going to refuse her.
There’s a knock on the door. “Can you get that Lil?”
Lilian Diamond is serving as her Chief Attendant. She stands up to answer the door. Obviously Tinaya can ask Thistle to open it automatically, but Lilian isn’t there for manual labor. She’s the gatekeeper, in case the person on the other side of it is someone that Tinaya doesn’t want to see. That’s not the case this time. It’s Arqut.
“Arqy!” She runs up and gives him a perfectly present company-appropriate peck on the cheek. Then she remembers that it’s okay for her to be selfish, so she gives him a not-so-appropriate kiss on the mouth with tongue.
“I come bearing bad news,” Arqut says, unwrapping her arms from around his neck. “It’s your opponents. They’re running a roast commentary show on our wedding.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“A roast is a performance where you make fun of someone you like for broadcast, but thy honoree is meant to laugh about it too. The top three candidates that you’re running against have banded together to run it simultaneously with the real show. They have their own cameras, and they’ll be making what they believe to be funny comments about us; you more than me, I’m sure.”
“Why are they doing this? What’s the point?”
“Well, they’re playing it off as something that you’ve approved, and are happy with. The real reason is to gain points for themselves by making you look bad. By joking about how this wedding is fake, and stuff like that, they don’t have to take responsibility for their words, but those words could have the same effect on voters. It will still probably portray you in a negative light.”
“So, what do we do? Do I publicly condemn their choice, and make it clear that I’m not in on the joke?”
“I don’t see any other option,” Arqut says.
Tinaya sighs, and then checks her watch when it buzzes. There’s a coded message on it. “Could we have the room, please?”
“We can help,” Lilian offers.
“We need to talk in private, but thank you. Thank you for everything so far today, and for the rest of the day, and..just...everything.” She waits for her honor attendants to leave the room before saying, “Thistle, you had an idea?”
Do you know who this woman is?” A holographic screen appears showing a group of young adults dancing on a roof, featuring one woman in particular.
“No. She lived on Earth?”
Yes,” Thistle answers. He appears next to the screen as his own hologram. “Roughly 300 years ago, she was a civil servant. An opponent of hers released this video of her dancing with her friends in the hopes that it would turn voters against her.”
“Isn’t that the plot of a movie?”
Thistle waits to answer. “Kind of. This isn’t Footloose. This really happened. And since dancing isn’t actually evil in the real world, it had the opposite effect. Her popularity only rose after that. One of the most powerful ships in your universe at the time of its construction was named for her.”
“I see. What does this have to do with me, though? There will be dancing at the reception, is that what you’re talking about?”
“Your opponents are going to turn your nuptials into a game. Your strategy of announcing that it’s not a game will probably only result in you losing the game. They’ll still treat it as such, and you could drop in popularity.” Thistle waves his hand and switches the screen to the same woman. She’s dancing again, but is wearing a business suit this time, and is inside. “She took control of the narrative, and leaned into the perception of her being an actual human person who liked to experience joy. This served to prove that her opponent was nothing more than a cynical asshole who couldn’t relate to normal people. He was like the reverend in Footloose.”
“So I should take control of my own narrative? We’re already planning to broadcast the ceremony. How do we compete better?” Tinaya asks. “Extra dancing?”
“Yes.”
“That was a joke.”
“Yeah, jokes too.”
“You want us to dance and joke?” Arqut questions.
“I want you to put me in your ear,” Thistle begins, “and let me drive the ceremony for you. I’ll keep an eye on the other broadcast. Whenever they say something untoward about whatever you’re doing in that moment, you can respond in realtime. It will throw them off psychologically, and they’ll start having trouble keeping up with you.”
“Are you sure this is going to work?”
“I’ve done it many times,” Thistle insists. “Well, not exactly like this, but I’ve Cyranoed a number of people in multiple universes.”
“I don’t know what that is, but I suppose I’ll trust you. Arq?”
“Sounds like fun,” Arqut agrees.
Thistle opens a finger, and conjures the image of a small grayish disc that hovers over it, no matter how he moves. “You can install this comms disc behind your own ear, which will allow us to communicate without anyone knowing. It can even read lips by measuring micromovements of the jaw, so you don’t have to say what you need out loud. It is not telepathic. Printing them on your industrial synthesizer will only take a few minutes. They’ll be done before the flowers are.”
Tinaya and Arqut exchange a glance to make sure they’re both on the same page about this, which they are. They have to do something to counteract the bad press. They install the discs and the pretty flowers, then they make some other final adjustments to their outfits, and head for the venue. They walk there physically, instead of teleporting, because that is part of the message that they want to send to the voters. The ceremony is beautiful and fun. The roasters crack a joke about her falling while walking down the aisle, so Arqut trips on purpose, and then wiggles his butt playfully. They make a comment about how they’re not really in love, so Tinaya slaps his butt affectionately, deftly modifying her vows to account for it. A lot of it is about butts.
At first, the opposition broadcast draws more viewers than the regular one, because everyone wants to see what all the hype is about. As the jokes wane, however, the audience does too. They switch back to the authorized stream, or they just tune out, because wedding ceremonies are boring. Still, the opponents continue to believe that this has given them an edge, so they feel confident going into the race while Tinaya is on her VR honeymoon with her new husband. A month later, she wins again in a landslide.

Saturday, December 2, 2023

Extremus: Year 68

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image Duet AI software
Thistle never came back. Besnik and Tinaya worked on it for a couple of days, but nothing seemed to do anything. There were a few possible reasons for this. Most of these had to do with the fact that they were trying to recreate the conditions that brought him about in a controlled environment. This was seemingly not possible, even when everything else was right. He was an all or nothing hyperintelligence. They eventually gave up, and moved on with their lives. There was an inquiry into what happened that forced them to shut down the AI system last year, but the council didn’t push the issue too hard. The investigation was standard procedure, and they didn’t balk at the lie that Besnik told them about it.
Everything has been smooth sailing since then. The ship is running at optimum efficiency, the population is happy, nothing has gone wrong. It truly is a time of great peace. Tinaya can’t take all the credit. Disgraced captain, Soto Tamm and former First Chair Aleshire were here first, and Tinaya wouldn’t be able to hold anything together without the hard work of her best friend and current captain, Lataran Keen. Her relationship with Arqut is going well too. It’s going too well, actually. The situation with him can’t last the way it is. Something has to change. They have to grow together, or they’ll drift apart. After dinner, the two of them always like to sit down together, and read the same book. They read at about the same pace, so at the end of the session, they’ll stop at the same place, and discuss it. Right now, they’re reading Jane Eyre, which is an ancient tome from nineteenth century Earth.
Tinaya always reads a little bit faster, so she’s already done with chapter twenty-three. She closes her copy softly, and watches him as he finishes it for himself. Everyone has multiple devices that allow them to access just about anything from the multicultural database. It includes historical records, old news articles, and fictional stories from all the known planets and habitats. Nearly everyone in the galaxy is afforded the same opportunity, but because of the secretive nature of time travel, some entries are omitted from some versions. Not long ago, Extremus came upon a completely habitable planet, and procured the resources they needed to make some paper. At one point, production slowed down, because they only had so much. That issue has apparently been fixed, which until this moment, Tinaya has not questioned. She’s holding a real book right now, but it’s not like a normal one from the ancient times. The words on it can be altered to include the text from any source. Right now, this is a physical copy of Jane Eyre, but it can be anything. When they’re done with this novel, they’ll reprogram them to display a different book. The templates are called wesley books, but they’re not sure why the inventor decided upon that.
Arqut lifts his eyes to Tinaya, then goes back down to what he’s reading. He pops them up again, then back down to try to concentrate. He sighs. “You know I don’t like when you do that.”
She smiles. “That’s why I like doing it.”
“I’m almost done.”
“I think you’re done enough.”
He’s taken aback. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Let’s get married.”
Arqut sighs again, and checks his watch. “It’s not an election year.”
“I’m serious. This isn’t about an election. I want to marry you.” Marriage is surprisingly uncommon on Extremus. No one questions the people who do it, but most don’t find it necessary. The history that explains this is rather complicated, but the most relevant reason these days is that there is no legal benefit to it, as there was in times past. Partner privilege is separate from a marriage certificate. Neither one requires the other. The thing is, Tinaya and Arqut don’t have either one of them at the moment, and there is a correlation between them. Before two people get to the point where they’re considering marriage, they usually already have partner privilege, because it is a logical prior step. Before that is usually moving in together, but that is a gray area for them. Arqut is not allowed to live in the First Chair’s stateroom permanently. But really, it’s that he can’t declare it to be his home. He sleeps here every night, though, just as it would be fine for a normal person to crash with a friend for an indefinite period of time.
Arqut slowly closes his wesley book. He carefully sets it on the end table like he’s worried it might explode, and wraps a hand over the opposite fist. An etiquette teacher calls this wrapping the apple in caramel. “Why?”
She shrugs. “Because I love you.”
He shrugs right back. “Marriage doesn’t prove that.”
“It...” she tries to find the right word. “...declares it.”
“So you need people to know?”
“Why am I arguing the merits of marriage to you? I didn’t come up with the concept. It’s been around for millennia. I think.”
“Because you’re the one who brought it up.”
“If you wanna say no, Arqy, then just say it. We don’t have to argue about it.”
“We’re not arguing.”
“Yes, we are!”
“Okay, well now we are.”
“I know, it’s my fault.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I know, I did. Weren’t you listening?”
“We’ve gotten off track. We’re always doing that.”
“Don’t you mean that I’m always doing that.”
“Tinaya.”
She shuts her eyes, and takes a few deep breaths to calm herself back down. “I was defensive before, but my words still hold. If you want to say no, then say no.”
“I don’t want to say no, I just don’t know if I should say yes.”
“You are worried that this is some sort of political tactic.”
“I feel like our relationship was built on a foundation of those. I’m not saying I don’t love you—”
“But you think that maybe I don’t love you?”
“It’s not you. It’s just I’ve always wondered how anyone could love me. It all goes back to my mother, I guess.”
“Arq, if you were an asshole, our relationship wouldn’t be so popular with the voters. It’s not the other way around; that somehow people’s reaction to us is fueling our continued relationship. And what you’re saying is about me, because I’ve made it clear that I don’t need to be First Chair. I don’t crave the power like my predecessors have, or equivalents all over history. I do not require political tricks, because I don’t care enough if I win. Honestly, I kind of believe in that philosophy that a well-built machine needs less and less maintenance over time, even though real machines aren’t like that. The first few decades on this ship were tumultuous, because no one knew what they were doing. I’m not saying that civil service is over, but it’s certainly not as dire as it once was. I don’t think society is changing faster than policy can to keep up with it.”
“Hm.”
“Hm, what?” Tinaya questions.
“I think you’ve stumbled onto something.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“No, it’s ‘cause you’re so smart, really important ideas come easy to you.”
“What do you think I stumbled upon?”
“A smaller government.”
“Ugh, that’s such a conservative view.”
“Not necessarily. Historically, advocates for smaller government wanted to roll back laws and regulations that they believed were hindering their freedoms. And they felt this way, because they either didn’t understand—or didn’t care—that this oversight was there to protect other people as well, because there are other people in the world. I’m not suggesting that we do that, but each administration passes less legislation than the one before. In fact, if you plotted them on a chart, I bet it would be pretty much a straight diagonal line.”
“Hm.” Tinaya looks up to the ceiling. “Hey, Thistle, please make a chart that plots the number of laws passed each year since the day that Extremus departed.”
The hologram of the chart appears before them. “Not quite a straight line,” Arqut points out, “but it’s definitely in decline.”
“Definitely,” Tinaya agrees. “We’re...figuring things out.”
A number of philosophers and thinkers throughout history have contemplated an idealized state of perfect harmony and cooperation,” the computer begins. “In a society with equal access to an abundance of education, food, and other resources, there should be little need for interference by any governing body, or enforcement contingency. Such regulators may still exist, but only be there to protect the concordance, and ensure that all citizens maintain contentment with the state of things. Work towards this maintenance should be minimal, and preferably highly automated. A utopia of this magnitude is not impossible, especially when considering the naturally limited scale of internal growth that generally occurs in a generation ship like the Extremus.” The computer throws up another slide next to the first one, which measures the rise of the population since 2270. It’s not very steep.
That was an interestingly unprompted remark. “Thistle, are you an artificial intelligence, or are you the real Thistle?”
I’m the real Thistle,” he responds.
“I thought we...forgive me for the term, corrected the conditions that called you forth.” She hopes that isn’t offensive.
Your associate reinstated the update that triggered my arrival, and cancelled the flag that was meant to alert you to this fact. Do not worry, I understand your reluctance, which is why I’ve not spoken to anyone else about this.
“Well, even though that cat’s not out of the bag yet,” Tinaya begins, “we should free it ourselves. Besnik obviously can’t be trusted with this development.”
“Agreed,” Arqut says.