by Walker, Jon
Director Lee knows that under his great-grandchildren, this harbor before him will become a busy hub of world commerce. At the moment, though, it is the home port of only a very modest fleet of vessels. Most of the boats that use the harbor are small fishing vessels or pleasure crafts. The only evidence of real commerce is a handful of cargo ships. They either travel South to Hou Maui, the small agricultural colony that specializes in tropical produce that don’t grow well on Prime, or Northwest to the few rock quarries and lumber camps on the the island of Muir, or along the coast to bring heavy bulk goods to the small villages that dot Prime’s North shore.
After taking a breath of fresh, slightly salty air on the balcony, the director walks back inside for his meal. The sitting room is beautiful and modern. It is said that it is always the 22nd Century within the Palace. The rest of the planet was forced to become creative and find ways to make do with less since the second fleet of slowships carrying manufacturing units failed to arrive almost a century ago. But the main building of the Public Health compound was always sufficiently supplied. No one had more or better technology than the Public Health Department and the other departments that make up the Steering Council. The Steering Council had the essential pieces of advanced equipment carefully stored away, ensuring New Eden would have enough tools from the old world to last until the colony reached a point where it could support its own local technology industry. Director Anthony Parker had the vision to quickly understand how important it was to ration these precious pieces of technology with a firm hand. That was one of the many reasons he acted decisively while others were left in shock, denial or wasted precious time with endless debating.
Director Lee takes a seat facing the harbor at a small, almost magically lit but strong table made of an advanced polymer. This table travelled millions of kilometers across darkness between the stars and was brought down here from the great slowship. Almost everything in the residency is a relic from the old world or designed to fit the same aesthetic. The only items in the residency that are truly from New Eden are a few pieces of local art and unique, impressive, or beautiful local specimens. The only piece of local art in the sitting room is a large painting of Terence's grandmother that dominates the back wall. The work was commissioned by his father, Director Michael Lee, 30 years ago. It depicts the dark haired Anthony Parker standing triumphantly in front of much smaller Ararat, staring off into the distance. Just behind him with her hand on his shoulder is Cathlyn Brown, the third person to head the Public Health Department. The large painting was loosely based on a photo of the pair, taken just one year before Anthony’s accidental death.
While the artist made Anthony look firm, stoic and slightly older than he really did, Cathlyn was made to appear more optimistic and majestic. She is both strong and beautiful. Her features are slightly finer and more perfectly balanced than they ever were in real life. The wrinkles she had at the time were left out of the work. Her shirt is painted in a very distinctive cool shade of blue, cobalt blue. Terence’s father, the fourth head of the Public Health Department, turned the pigment made from the rare metal into the unofficial color of the directorate during his tenure.
As far as Terence was concerned, Anthony understood that cobalt was life and thus the true source of power on New Eden, but as the department's second director, he didn't understand how to really wield that power. Grandma Cathlyn was skilled at using power but only wielded it as a blunt tool to force people to work towards a goal. His father’s genius was in understanding how to live the power. How to wear it like clothing. How to infuse it in all aspects of one's life. Michael strived to seamlessly integrate it into everything he did, from big national announcements to something as simple as color selection. Almost everything about him carried a subtle reminder of his place and what he could do. The intention was to make it so that he would almost never have to do something as gauche as actually issuing a threat. The most powerful threat is that which doesn’t need to be spoken. Terence strived to be like his father in this way.
After Terence had been seated for just a few moments, a residence staff member brings him his breakfast and quickly leaves the room. The serving tray holds a slight variation of the breakfast he eats almost every day -- the same basic breakfast his father also ate almost every day before he died. There is one egg, this time prepared sunny side up. Next to it are three strips of bacon, and a large piece of warm toast smeared with rich, melty butter. The only indigenous food on the platter is always simply a small metal bowl of fresh Clarkeweed leaves. It is the prevalent custom among almost everyone on the planet to consume a few of the slightly sweet and tangy leaves after a meal to improve their breath and clean their teeth. The meal is delicious but also sends a message, even if today the only people who will see it are a handful house staff who will mostly fail to fully understand its meaning on a conscious level. This breakfast shows he has more than enough B-12 -- enough that he can waste it keeping Earth chickens, pigs, and cows around for his personal consumption. For regular people, this breakfast would be prohibitively expensive, but it is more than just a display of wealth. It also means if the director declares you defiant, he will be declaring you less worthy than mere farm animals.
The director eats his egg first then picks up his tablet to begin his work. He slowly checks up on his messages, status reports, and proposals awaiting his approval. Terence pauses after every two or three paragraphs to take another small bite of bacon or toast.
At 10:07, the butler quickly checks to make sure the director has basically finished his breakfast before disturbing him with a slight throat clearing before speaking. “Sir, I must inform you that the rest of the Steering Council has arrived and is awaiting your presence to begin.”
Terence checks the time to make sure it is after 10 a.m. before responding, “Inform them I will be joining them shortly.”
“Very good, sir,” the butler says before quickly departing the room.
Terence finishes the message he was reading before putting down the tablet and getting up from the table. Father often told him it was important that the director never seem to wait for anyone, but these were also the other most powerful people on the planet. Arriving about 15 minutes late was the ideal time to show up to this meeting.
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Waiting for the Steering Council's monthly meeting, nine of the world’s most powerful people are quietly milling around the spacious boardroom on the top floor of the Public Health Department’s administrative building. Not only is it officially the tallest structure in the city but its position on a hill makes it even more imposing over the Ararat skyline.
In front of one of the best views in the city, the five men and four women ranging in age from 32 to 86 are making small talk while enjoying hot beverages and pastries to kill time. Suddenly both of the large double doors are swung open in unison by two staff members, and Director Lee walks into the room. He is dressed in a bold, large collared shirt featuring a highly intricate print with the dominant color of rich light blue. While similar in style to most of his clothing, it is a new shirt -- Terence never wears the same outfit to an official function twice. His arrival immediately puts an end to all conversation as eyes turn towards him. The director is quick to break the silence he created, “Ladies and gentlemen, please all take a seat so I can call this meeting to order.”
The gathered department heads and sub-department heads take their assigned places at the large, ornate table while Director Lee positions himself at the head. The chairs they sit on are precious relics from the solar system, harvested from the slowship, but the table is a massive single piece of elderwood. The gorgeous piece of perfect native lumber was beautifully carved with a simple map of the whole planet. It is one of the many elements of the Palace that was personally commissioned by Terence's father.
The Steering Council, better known as the Directorate, is the direct heir of Anthony Parker’s emergency committee, which was shaped by loyalty and political necessity. Five seats bel
ong to the Health Department. Obviously, one is held by the head of the department, who by tradition also serves as the director of the Council. On Lee’s left sit his four direct subordinates, the heads of the sub-departments of nutrition, medicine, public safety, and of genetics. To Lee’s right are the two chairs held by the Department of Aeronautics. Despite being by far the smallest department on New Eden, it continues to enjoy a disproportionate number of votes because of how essential its support was for Parker’s plan almost a century ago. The rest of the Council is rounded out with the heads from the Department of Technological Redevelopment, the Department of Education, and the Department of Commerce.
After everyone is seated and clearly comfortable, Director Lee opens the meeting. “I hereby call this meeting to order. Unless there are any objections let’s follow the agenda on the pre-meeting notes. The first item is from you, Ms. Brown. It is regarding some issue with the preservation of the genetic diversity among our cattle."
The head of the sub-department of genetics, Tracy Brown, clears her throat before speaking, “Yes, director. The plans to expand our terrestrial pastures and creamery have fallen slightly behind schedule. There has been some noticeable grumbling and foot dragging among the landholders on the proposed expansion site. It might make political sense to move the whole operation to a more spacious location farther out or adjust our offers for relocation expenses.”
Before anyone else can share their thoughts, Director Lee speaks firmly. “How about you choose the four landholders you believe are the most problematic or have the worst records and declare them defiants.” By his tone, it is clearly more of a command than a question.
Ms. Brown is slightly taken aback when she responds, “Doesn’t that seem a bit harsh? There's only really been grumbling, no direct opposition.”
Director Lee points to his uncle and head of the Department of Commerce, Derek Lee, to ask him a question: “We are already offering them reasonable compensation for the land, right?”
Derek is slightly caught off guard and quickly starts trying to find the exact information on his tablet while answering, “Well… I don’t have the data offhand, but I assume so. That is standard practice.”
With a quick swipe of his hand and a simple “Good,” Director Lee makes it clear he doesn’t care about anyone looking up the exact numbers for him. He then points back to Ms. Brown. “This was officially labeled a long-term survival priority project, correct?”
Ms. Brown responds, “Hmm… well, yes, technically.”
“I never want to see such projects delayed,” the director quickly responds. “Choose the four landholders, then move forward immediately with the expansion. If anyone else causes even the slightest problem, declare them defiants, too. But still, let’s allow them to keep their buyouts if they don’t cause any further problems. As long as they wise up, it’s not like they will die anytime soon. We all know there are black market vitamin vendors -- people scraping their rations, dairy workers skimming supplies from the cows. Just look down on the street on any given morning and you'll see the lazy bastards in the sanitation bureau have enough extra to get a half dozen beggars doing all their real work for them. This move will serve as a good reminder to the people and help soak up the extra cobalt floating around on the black market. Any objections?”
The director gives the rest of the Council less than a second to speak up or request a full vote. “Good, moving on. The next item is the launch shuttle refabrication project, which has appeared to run into further complications?” He ends his question with an unhappy eyebrow raise. The director's tone turns negative and disapproving as he directs his gaze at Leo Madison, the head of the Department of Technological Redevelopment.
Leo keeps his tone firm but non-confrontational. While it is unpleasant to have to deliver this news right after the director’s little speech, there is no way around it. “Yes, I’m afraid Shuttle 3 needs more extensive repairs than our previous estimates would indicate. Even after this current maintenance period, the shuttle will still probably only be safe for no more than another two or three launches without a complete stripdown and reconstruction.”
Turning now to look at Catherine Moore, head of Aeronautics, the volume of the director's voice increases slightly after hearing the bad but not entirely unexpected news. “How exactly did this happen? The Council made this joint project between you two our top priority. I know we have provided you with substantial resources to resolve these hiccups. This maintenance period alone is costing a noticeable percent of our entire GDP.” His phrasing borders on being accusatory without directly crossing that line. The nature of their departments' nearly century-long arrangement makes Catherine perhaps the only person on the planet the director knows he can’t really threaten or intimidate at all, something which has always irked him.
Catherine Moore responds directly and with a wry sense of humor, “Well, it quite literally is rocket science we are dealing with.”
The director shows he is not amused when he turns instead to Catherine's subordinate and younger brother, Jack Moore, in hopes of getting more complete answers. “So what is the plan now? Delay the shift change for a few months?”
“I’m afraid we might need to consider more dramatic actions,” Jack says. “You see, the thing is…”
Leo Madison interrupts Jack Moore to prevent him from botching the explanation at such a critical moment. The Aeronautics Department flies the things, but it is his department which actually contains the engineers to understand how they run. “If you don’t mind, how about I take it from here? The simple fact is that none of the launch shuttles were meant to operate for as long or as often as they have. According to official regulations, they were all supposed to be decommissioned over 50 years ago. We all know the original colony mission wasn’t designed for this.” Leo Madison pauses slightly and looks around the table to get reluctant nods of acceptance.
Leo Madison continues, “Even after this current round of significant repairs, Shuttle 3 will still only be good for a few more flights, and Shuttle 5 is also barely in flying shape. We have bypassed several less important safety warnings to keep both of them going as it is. We also have Shuttle 1 and 4 in the hangar. Neither has flown in over a decade, and we have been slowly cannibalizing them to keep Shuttle 3 and 5 flying. We are past the point of bandaid fixes. We risk losing space access all together.” Leo again pauses to let the incredible significance of that last statement sink in. “That is why in conjunction with the Department of Aeronautics we have put together a bold new proposal for the Council. We need all four shuttles on New Eden in the hangar together at the same time. We will do an extensive and complete rebuild. By swapping around systems and key components, at minimum I hope to extend the life of our two functioning shuttles by another decade and potentially even get one of the mothballed shuttles back to operational status. For this to really work my team needs to be able to work on all of them at once.”
There is a brief moment of silence while the other Council members consider this until Tricia Johanson from Nutrition speaks up. “What if this rebuild doesn’t work? What happens to the mine on Abel and more importantly the cobalt stockpile it has built up?”
Jack Moore answers, “If the plan is approved, Shuttle 3 will still go up for its normal rotation in four months, but with a specially selected crew. They will spend their rotation preparing to remove as much potentially useful equipment for the rebuild without compromising the mining installation. At the end of their rotation they will bring down the equipment and the stockpile, along with as much standard cargo as they can. We currently have several ideas on ways to potentially secure the stockpile during this period, but obviously we will defer to the Head of Public Safety on that part of the plan.” This would be the first time the entire stockpile was ever brought down instead a mere temporary supply to cover the year.
The director leans back in his chair staring at Catherine Moore skeptically and asks, “You like this plan? The whole point of the
stockpile and the shuttle rotations is that there's no safer place for your valuables than a room no one else can ever hope to get near. It was your own grandfather who said space is more secure than any vault. Since the beginning your department has always argued this is the way it must work.”
Being responsible for keeping the cobalt stockpile safe in a literally unassailable location in space has been the source of the Department of Aeronautics' power since they allied themselves with Director Parker over a century ago.
Catherine Moore responds with a slightly pained tone to the director’s goading, “I don’t like it, but the experts have convinced me it is our best choice to keep things running. We don’t need to do anything significant at the moment. It is still several months before the shift change would even happen, but if we are going to adopt this plan we should begin the preparation stage soon.”
The director leans forward over the table. “I will want full briefings on every single aspect of this rebuild before its execution gets final approval, but for now I’m willing to sign off on this first stage. Anyone object? ...No. Since it is a stockpile matter, let's put it to a full vote.” Everyone on the table raises their hand slightly to affirm their support.
“Ok, the next thing on the agenda is from the head of the sub-department of public safety. There have apparently been some new management problems on Hou Maui,” Director Lee says with annoyance while several members of the Council release soft but audible groans.
Almost everyone on the Council is at least distantly related to every other member of the Council and/or to the sources of this latest problem. Most of the Council members are direct descendants of one or more of the so-called six great families. The six highly interwoven clans have dominated all of the departments on New Eden since Director Parker took over. For decades, the big families have used the tropical plantation colony on Hou Maui as a dumping ground -- a great place to give out government appointments to family members who have become too much of an embarrassment to keep around Ararat. For the ones that are not complete idiots -- the deadbeats, the incredibly lazy, and family members who merely suffered from a temporary bout of poor judgment-- it is a decent solution. They tend to take the assignment in stride. They just bide their time relaxing on the beach, enjoying the tropical weather. Unfortunately, most family members that get shipped off there are complete idiots, and the new assignment just makes them angry entitled idiots. Before even getting into the details of this agenda item, the Council knows this is going to be a long, delicate, and very unpleasant mess to clean up.
