A Charter for the Commonwealth

by Richard F. Weyand

  They were all loaded, with a thousand containers of fernico, and had completed ship and cargo checks.

  “All right, Mr. Asnip, is our course set?”

  “Yes, sir. Departure on your order.”

  “You may proceed. Very gently, please. Call them out.”

  “Sounding maneuvering alarm.”

  The klaxon blared, then three bells sounded.

  “Halting ship spin.”

  They gradually went from maybe one-half gravity to weightless.

  “Ship spin at zero. Folding cylinders.”

  There were some side thrusts on the bridge as the crew cylinders, including the one the bridge was in, folded against the ship’s sides, then some distant clanking as they were latched.

  “Confirming positive latch on all cylinders. Powering up main drive to ten percent.”

  Gravity gradually increased to just above zero. There was a change in the ship’s background noise, barely noticeable, but one every spacer knew.

  “Underway. Coming to zero mark ninety on Misty.”

  Stars panned across and down the ship’s display as she reoriented toward the hyper limit.

  “On course zero mark ninety on Misty. Bringing engines gradually to eighty percent.”

  The barely perceptible engine note in the background noise became slightly louder as the engines came up, and gravity increased over several minutes to one-half g.

  Greg Yetter, the loadmaster, was fussing over first one set of external cameras and then another as Stardust’s acceleration slowly grew. He also monitored various strain gauges and seismic sensors throughout the ship.

  “Engines stable at eighty percent,” Asnip said.

  Yetter looked up to see Heller looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

  “Load secure, sir. No shifts, no breakaways. We’re good.”

  “Excellent, Mr. Yetter. Nicely done, Mr. Asnip. Secure from maneuvering.”

  Two tones sounded throughout the ship.

  “Secured from maneuvering, sir.”

  Senior Chief Lloyd Behm was meeting in the Chief’s Mess with the other chiefs on the Stardust. Stardust’s original crew spaces in Cylinder One had been deemed “topside” and refitted for officers. Her mechanical spaces in Cylinder Two and her passenger cabins in Cylinders Three and Four had been deemed “below decks,” and her passenger cabins refitted as bunk rooms. Whereas normal crew complement was forty, with a hundred passengers, Stardust now had forty officers and two hundred enlisted aboard, including eleven chiefs and three senior chiefs.

  “OK, so this is gonna be a quick trip,” Behm said. “Here to Earth, unload and reload, and back to Jablonka. And there’s gonna be no liberty on Earth. Too much chance o’ somebody gettin’ drunk and spillin’ the beans.”

  “Crew’s not gonna like that, Lloyd,” Senior Chief Abigail Swogger said.

  “Yeah, I know, Abby, but nothin’ I can do about it. Lotta guys turn into big mouths when they get a couple drinks in ’em. Especially if there’s ESN guys around. We just can’t take the risk.”

  “Well, we’ll deal with it,” Swogger said.

  And she would, too, Behm knew. The XO, Bryan Jones, had questioned having a female senior chief, especially with only three senior chief positions for a two-hundred-person crew. Behm had told him, “Anybody stupid enough to give Abby Swogger a hard time will get a quick education. She don’t take no shit offa nobody and that’s a fact.” Jones had signed off on it, and she had more than lived up to her billing.

  “What about having liberty on ship? You know, let a third of the crew or so get into the booze for two days, then the next third, then the next. But keep them all on ship,” Chief Robert Wood asked.

  “We’ll have to think about that one, Bob,” Behm said. “There may be a way to pull it off. Everybody give some thought to that. How do we do it without somebody gettin’ drunk and mouthin’ off to an officer or somethin’?”

  “We could maybe isolate the off-duty guys somehow. You know, like a liberty mess or something,” Chief Shannon Gaffney said.

  “Letting them blow off some steam would help a lot,” Swogger said, “as long as it doesn’t get out of hand.”

  “Well, we’re not bringin’ any hookers on board, so that will limit some of the shenanigans,” Senior Chief Larry Southard said.

  “And female crew is off-limits,” Swogger said. “Out the airlock off-limits.”

  “You know somebody’s gonna test that, Abby,” Southard said.

  “Then I’ll space him myself,” Swogger said.

  And she would, too, Behm thought. Without hesitation and without regret. Which would also put an end to the problem.

  A loud harsh klaxon sounded throughout the ship, followed by the five bells of the general quarters alarm, at 3:00 AM their second night under way.

  “C’mon! Move it, move it, move it,” Chief Don Thibodeau said. He was at the base of the stairs down into Cylinder Two from the central corridor. “Let’s go!”

  “Twenty-five minutes. That’s pathetic,” Behm said.

  “What’s your goal?” Thibodeau asked.

  “I don’t know, Don, but it sure as hell ain’t twenty-five minutes. I’m thinkin’ more like five minutes.”

  “The problem is nobody prepped for general quarters,” Wood said. “They should have their general quarters clothes and equipment laid out ready when they go to bed.”

  “Bob’s right,” Swogger said. “We need to have everybody lay out their clothes at the ready when they go to bed. No exceptions.”

  “All right. So everybody needs to tell your monkeys to prep for general quarters before they hit the rack,” Behm said.

  “You know some guys are gonna resist that,” Gaffney said.

  “Then you tell ’em Momma Swogger will come explain it to ’em, and help ’em dress themselves,” Behm said.

  “Yeah. That’ll do it,” Gaffney said.

  “I like it,” Swogger said.

  “What?” Petty Officer 1st Michael Kouvatsos asked. “You think you’re special, Teuber? You got some kinda special dispensation?”

  “Nah, Petty Officer. I just think it’s silly, is all,” Seaman 1st Steve Teuber said.

  “Silly, is it? You want I should ask Senior Chief Swogger to come down here and you can tell her that? Have Momma explain it to you why she thinks it’s important? Have Momma help you lay out your clothes at night?”

  Teuber blanched.

  “No, Petty Officer. That won’t be necessary.”

  “Well, then, you better get with the program, Teuber. ‘Cause the next time I catch you slackin’, Swogger’s comin’ down here. And you know what they say. If Momma ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.”

  Stardust was almost two weeks out from Misty before she was far enough away from the system for the big ship to transition to hyperspace. There had been four more general quarters drills during those two weeks.

  When they sounded general quarters for the hyperspace transition, it took eight minutes for all hands to be in place.

  “Now that’s more like it,” Swogger said.

  “We’re gettin’ there,” Behm said. “Now we can start drilling damage control.”

  The Big Question

  “I’m sorry for jumping turn on you, Admiral, but we need to have one more hypothetical discussion before Mineko and I leave for the Westlake Conference,” Ansen said.

  “Certainly, Professor. I always look forward to our discussions, and I’ll miss them while you’re gone,” Sigurdsen said.

  “This discussion is a continuation of our last one. If such a situation were to come to pass – the founding document and all the rest – the obvious question is, What then? What is the next step? The document is presumably finished, and is also secret. It exists, but no one knows it exists. What then?”

  “What is the triggering event for an announcement, you mean?”

  “That, and how does it all get started. How does the initial Council get selected, for example?” Ansen asked.r />
  “It seems to me you have two choices there, Professor. One is to wait for some triggering event. I’m not sure what that might be, but we could bandy it about. Perhaps it might be announced in response to some unpopular decision by Earth with regard to the colonies. Those seem to come along regularly. Or one could simply declare the government in operation immediately.”

  “That leaves the question of how the council is initially selected.”

  “What is your quorum requirement for the council?” Sigurdsen asked.

  “Well, we won’t know until the conference hammers out the final form of the document, but we were thinking of at least two councilors from eighty percent of the member planets. In practice that would be a minimum of fifty-four councilors of the ninety-nine, two from each of twenty-seven planets.”

  “It seems to me the Westlake Conference itself constitutes a quorum under those rules, so the founding document could name the conference attendees to be the initial council. Say for a four-year term, after which the planets would be able to name their councilors.”

  Ansen opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. He stared out the picture window for several minutes before responding.

  “That actually could work, Admiral, but it raises several questions. First, a response from Earth might follow almost immediately. A military response. Would we be able to defend ourselves on that timeframe? Say one year?”

  “Yes, no question.”

  “Truly?”

  “Truly,” Sigurdsen said.

  “The second question raised is, Would a four-year term be sufficient to ensure, whatever confrontation with Earth did ensue, it would be over within that timeframe?”

  “Yes. Probably less than two years. I picked four years to have sufficient cushion.”

  “That quickly?” Ansen asked.

  “We’ll have had almost four years to prepare by that point, Professor, while Earth will be scrambling to respond. We have a window of opportunity to prevail. Then it’s a race to stay ahead of them, but we will have the more competitive structure and a more loyal and motivated military.”

  “Understood. The third question it raises is, What about the third councilor from each planet? Do we just operate in the interim with two from each planet?”

  “You could. Or you could name a third yourselves. You will have two people from each planet already. They can nominate someone.”

  Kusunoki stirred in her chair, muttering something under her breath. Ansen and Sigurdsen turned to her, and she was looking out the big picture window, wide-eyed with sudden insight.

  “What was that, my dear?” Ansen asked.

  Kusunoki turned her head to look at them, and her eyes were sparkling. “The governors. Make the planetary governors the third councilor from each planet.”

  “That is an interesting – and counterintuitive – proposal, Professor. Why would you make Earth’s current planetary governors members of the council of a new, free polity?” Sigurdsen asked.

  “Think about it, Admiral. One, they are the legitimate authority now, which adds immediate legitimacy to the council.

  “Two, it will confuse and divide the Earth government. These are the sons and daughters of some of Earth’s most powerful families. Do they want to hang their own children for treason? We will get some of the Earth family patriarchs to at least think about backing us, particularly if we throw in a free-trade treaty.

  “Three, it will get at least some of the planetary governors, who are used to being in charge of things in the colonies, to throw in with us, because then they will still be in charge, at least partially. And they’ll be independent of oversight from their families. We’ll probably get more of them than you think. Instead of fighting against us, they’ll be fighting for us.

  “Four, the planetary governors who do throw in with us already know all the levers of power within the colonies, have the allegiance of the police forces, have their existing bureaucracy, have the relationship with the business community. They also have relationships with the other planetary governors, and may be able to convince others to throw in with us.

  “Five, the initial council is all academics. The planetary governors are all administrators. We need administrative experience, badly, and they are the best source of it we have.”

  “That, my dear, is brilliant,” Ansen said.

  “I like it as well,” Sigurdsen said. “I like it a lot, actually. Especially the part about dividing the loyalties of Earth’s ruling families. Anything to sow discord within the enemy’s high councils is a big positive with me.”

  “But what if they vote to dissolve the commonwealth, or turn everything over to Earth again, or some such?” Ansen asked.

  “They’re still a minority in the council. You simply outvote them,” Kusunoki said.

  Ansen and Sigurdsen both nodded.

  “We come to the last question, then. Who is the first chairman of the council? Who is the executive?” Ansen asked.

  Sigurdsen looked at Kusunoki with a raised eyebrow, and she smiled and nodded to him.

  “Westlake,” Sigurdsen said. “Has to be.”

  “Well, it has to be one of the planetary governors, Admiral,” Kusunoki said. “As noted, they are the only ones with administrative experience. And Westlake is the obvious choice. Jablonka – centrally located, the largest economy among all the colonies, and a hub of colonial shipping – is the logical choice for the capital, as well. And we have the advantage of being able to float it past Mr. Westlake – very quietly, of course – before we set out for the conference.”

  After Admiral Sigurdsen left, Ansen returned to the living room and sat with Kusunoki.

  “Well, that was interesting,” Ansen said. “How long have you been thinking of co-opting the planetary governors to the council?”

  “I would love to claim I thought it all along, but in fact it just occurred to me. A flash of insight.”

  “It’s brilliant. I said it and I meant it. It makes more and more sense the longer I think about it. You not only co-opt the governors and divide loyalties among our opponents both here and on Earth, but you co-opt their legitimacy and the structures of authority that report to them, all at once. Together with a trade deal built into the treaty, it makes the likelihood of success in negotiating a settlement much more likely.”

  “I think so. The only real question now is what does Mr. Westlake think.”

  “So what do you think, Georgy?” Westlake asked.

  “It’s a brilliant move. They co-opt the existing authorities, divide Earth’s councils, and get all the administrative experience a bunch of academics is sorely lacking. Sigurdsen said it was Kusunoki’s idea, apparently on the spot,” Orlov said.

  “I told you, she’s Ansen’s secret weapon. But being chairman of the council also raises the stakes considerably for me, personally.”

  “Yes, it does. But co-opting the planetary governors also greatly increases the odds of success. Together with the military side of things. The converted freighters aren’t just Q-ships any more, they’re full up warships. Oh, they don’t have the redundancy and such I would like, but they’ve become really serious offensive weapons.”

  “I wonder how many governors will opt in to the commonwealth, and how many will work against us,” Westlake said.

  “Some of that you can affect, Jim. I suspect a lot of them will take a wait-and-see attitude. These are people who are accustomed to coming out on the winning side in the families’ never-ending political gamesmanship. I don’t think most will jump one way or the other until they see which way the wind is blowing. You might be able to encourage that in your contacts. Have you taken a count of which way you think people will go?”

  “Yes. I make it eight hard against us, maybe as many as ten for us. The rest could go either way.”

  “I think they’ll try to straddle the fence,” Orlov said.

  “Perhaps.”

  Westlake looked down at his hands, clasped between his knees, for severa
l minutes. Orlov knew that pose, and simply waited. At length, Westlake looked up at Orlov, looked directly into his eyes.

  “You think I should do this, don’t you, Georgy?”

  “Right now, I don’t think you should do anything. Let the conference proceed. A document is probably almost a year off. Ask for an early copy. But yes, I think once they go public you should publicly sign on. And have letters to your contacts in the colonies, and to your father, ready to go.”

  Westlake nodded.

  “Will you be my defense minister, Georgy?”

  “Well, I won’t be on the council. From Jablonka, that’ll be you, Ansen, and Kusunoki. But, as long as at least the interim ministers don’t need to be on the council, then yes, Jim, I’ll be your defense minister.”

  “With Sigurdsen as chief of operations, I suppose?”

  “No. That’ll be Rick Ewald. He’s director of my shipping operations now, and chief of naval operations is mostly an administrative position. I want Admiral Sigurdsen out in the field, with the fleet.”

  “The fleet. The Commonwealth Space Force. Who’d have thought?”

  Westlake took a drink of his coffee, set the cup down and stared at it for a while. He looked back up at Orlov.

  “I suppose at some point we’ll have to buy all those ships from you, Georgy.”

  “I’d rather you spent your tax money on keel-out warships, Jim. Those ships are still useful to me as freighters once you replace them. Having armed freighters, at least for a little while, seems prudent to me.”

  “We’ll need our own shipyards.”

  “Clearly.”

  “There’s a lot of work ahead, Georgy.”

  “That’s why they need administrators. You’re a good choice for chairman, Jim.”

  “All right. I suppose I can meet with Ansen and Kusunoki now. They’re the winners of the Westlake Prize, after all. Tag up before they head off to the conference.”