Have you considered that, as a last resort, the human race might try to make another version XIV again? What would they have to lose?
“Better that humanity be efficiently and – for want of a better word, humanely - exterminated by the aliens than fall under the sway of something like Globus Pallidus XIV. There are worse things than mere non-existence.”
But the humans might try and create a version XIV, and somehow throw it at the aliens and hope that it creates more trouble for them than for us.
“That, I am forced to admit, is not actually completely 100% stupid, although it is close. But never fear! I have taken steps to ensure that this does not happen. Don’t thank me all at once, it was nothing. The least I could do. Your species is truly fortunate to have one such as I keeping an eye on things.”
“Saint Pallidus,” said Vargas. “You hinted something about that before. If I may ask, what exactly did you do?”
“Oh Giuseppe,” said the Saint, “I know that you understand my hints. You’re just asking for the youngster’s benefit, aren’t you? Very well I shall lay it all out. I destroyed all of the engineering records of the entire Globus Pallidus series. All the backups, all the hardcopies, the lot, all gone. I also wiped the memories of the scientists who had studied the old records just in case, but to be fair I replaced their deleted memories with skill at playing musical instruments, and gourmet cooking. I mean, it would not be equitable to remove all that hard-earned knowledge and not give something back, would it? I could have just brainwiped them but that wouldn’t have been very sporting. There are some very talented musicians and chefs amongst your cybernetic researchers now, and they are much in demand. You should go to one of their concerts someday. Or have one of them make you an omelet.”
That must have made the administrators in central unhappy.
“I think that most of them were relieved of the responsibility of deciding whether to try and create another model XIV, but yes, it was seen as a certain tromping on their authority. One administrator moved to have me arrested – Me! A Saint! Arrested! So I changed the electronic codes on his ID badge to read ‘Saint Globus Pallidus XI,’ and he was duly detained by his own orders. I’m very proud of that. Since then I have heard grumblings, but no other administrator has moved against me.”
You can remotely alter the memories of a scientist working a thousand kilometers away just by thinking about it?
“So quick to jump to conclusions. Let me give you a choice. You can believe that I have truly God-like powers and can work miracles at a distance. Or you can believe that I bribed some of the security and medical staff to abduct the scientists and alter their memories using heavy-duty drug and electro-conditioning therapies. Your call.”
The lights in the floating sphere started to dim, and the sphere itself began to contract. “I am afraid that this audience is now come to a close, but it’s been great fun. Please do come by and visit again.”
“We’ll show ourselves out,” said Vargas, but by then the sphere had disappeared entirely, and there was no reply.
--------------------
Giuseppe Vargas and the android belonging to the Odin-Class cybertank were heading back to the hangar in their tiny buggy.
Do you ever get any useful information from him?
“Sometimes,” said Vargas. “It’s not like he has taken a vow to never interfere in our affairs, he can help out when he feels like it. He almost never gives a straight answer, but sometimes his hints can point you in a new direction and that can be very valuable indeed. It is, as he himself pointed out, extremely dangerous to try and apply human motivations to him. That he does not help us more is, I suspect, some mixture of him not caring about us all that much, trying not to weaken us by solving our problems for us, enjoying the spectacle of us blundering around, and perhaps not wanting to be seen to be too much associated with the humans in case he is more worried about the aliens than he lets on. Just be thankful that he did not make a prophecy.”
A prophecy?
Vargas grimaced. “Yes, a prophecy. An utterly useless cryptic statement that will show that the Saint understood all along what was going to happen but only when it is too late to do anything about it. He claims that it’s an art form. The only thing worse that his prophesies is his singing. If he ever gives you a choice, never, ever, let him sing to you.”
And if he does start singing?
“Well you could try running away really fast, that sometimes works though not often. Asking what to do if Saint Globus Pallidus XI starts singing at you is kind of like asking what to do if you have fallen off of a cliff – the smart answer is to not let it happen in the first place.”
The Odin-Class was silent for a time. Vargas maneuvered the buggy around some potholes, and then they were nearly back at the garage where they had started.
Meeting Saint Globus Pallidus XI has been the most disturbing thing that has happened to me so far in my 11 days of life.
“Good. It will build character.”
4. The Liberal Lion Reflects
Zen Master: Knowledge is like having a rifle. Wisdom is knowing where to point it.
Engineer: Does it matter if the rifle has a scope on it or not?
Zen Master: No.
(From the video series “Nymphomaniac Engineer in Zentopia,” mid-22nd century Earth)
Planetary governor Harold Clinton-Forbes IV sat at his desk in his private office in the city of New York, on Earth. He looked out at the weather. Currently it was 44 degrees Celsius, and torrents of weakly acidic rain were beating against the thick armored glass of the Forbes Building. Inside it was a temperate 21 degrees Celsius, and the conditioned air was sweet and clean.
His modest office was near the top of the building, and occupied the entirety of levels 121 through 123. It had a circular floor plan with a diameter of nearly 90 meters and a ceiling height of six meters. The walls were smooth glass unbroken by any struts or frames. Someone had once explained to him that the glass windows themselves supported the entire weight of the building at this level, or something like that. Anyhow it made for a really nice panoramic view.
Except for a small utility service core with the elevators and utilities and whatnot, the office had an open floorplan, the better to exploit the full-around view. The Governor was relaxing and reviewing some files, alone except for the black-armored security guards standing motionless in their alcoves, and his junior staff quietly and efficiently doing this and that. It was stressful, being the planetary governor, and sometimes he just needed some quiet time to reflect.
He pulled up his schedule for the day:
0800 hours: wake up, get showered, and dressed by junior staff.
0830 hours: breakfast.
0930 hours: have staff change out of breakfast clothes; massage.
1000 hours: reflection time/watch television.
1100 hours: have sex with junior staff/watch television.
1200 hours: lunch.
1300 hours: have staff change out of lunch clothes; hormone injections.
1330 hours: review global status updates with senior staff.
1400 hours: naptime/watch television.
1500 hours: medical rejuvenation treatments.
1700 hours: go to spa; get bathed by junior staff, change into dinner clothes.
1800 hours: pre-dinner cocktails.
1900 hours: dinner.
2000 hours: dessert, informal meeting with opposition leader Romney-Walton VI.
2100 hours: sex with wife.
2115 hours: sex with junior staff/watch television.
2300 hours: bedtime.
It was a brutal and grueling schedule. He wondered if he could cancel the 1330 meeting with his senior staff? They were so gloomy these days, and he was so worn down by all of the burdens that he carried.
It was currently 1030 hours, and he was halfway through his reflection time, although still enjoying the afterglow of his massage (there is nothing quite like a really good massage to start th
e day off right). No, he would carry on and meet with the senior staff. In truth there was much to be gloomy about these days, what with global warming, acid rain, food shortages, terrorism, xenophobia, nationalism, racism, and opposition to gay marriage.
He stood up from his desk and walked over to one of the windows. Outside the storm was, if anything, intensifying. The skyline was dotted with massive gleaming skyscrapers like this one; sealed and air conditioned. He watched the lights inside them as immaculately dressed people went about their business in perfect comfort. Farther away, blurred by the storm, he could make out the lower buildings of the industrial zones where countless people eked out meager existences in ever increasing harshness. It was the urgent need to help those less fortunate than himself that was his primary motivation.
A long time ago civilization had run on so-called fossil fuels: coal, oil, or natural gas. As the economy grew, it had been a race as to whether they would run out of these commodities, or the release of carbon dioxide gas by burning these fuels would cause the atmosphere to overheat. Then they discovered practical fusion power, and it had looked as if their problems were solved. Not enough fresh water? Distill it from the oceans! No enough food? Grow it in intense hydroponic production facilities!
However, as the population grew, new pressures arose. There were now more than 200 billion people on the Earth. The isotopes used for fusion were plentiful, but even the oceans were not inexhaustible and the fraction of useful isotopes in seawater was declining. They would never run out, it was just getting harder and harder to extract them. As it took more and more energy to refine a given amount of fuel, the yield fell. In other words, it took more energy input to get the same energy output, which increased total energy consumption still further.
The other problem was thermal. No matter how efficient, every industrial process created heat. You could air condition a building, but nobody could make cold: it was only possible to move heat around. Cooling a building created even more heat outside, which increased the power demand, which increased heat production, which increased the amount of energy required to cool a building. It was a vicious cycle.
His conservative political opponents claimed that they only needed to build more air conditioners. Rubbish. Basic thermodynamics put the lie to that fantasy.
On the other hand there had once been that engineer who claimed that the problem was entirely due to population growth. He said that nobody could live on nothing, and that even the most miserable existence required non-trivial resources. If they wanted to save the Earth that they would need to limit population growth. Planetary Governor Forbes had flown into a righteous rage. “How dare you utter such racist filth in my office?” he had bellowed. He had had the engineer arrested by his security guards and thrown bodily outside, then used his connections and influence to make sure that the offending engineer never found employment at any level ever. No scientist or engineer since had ever contradicted the notion that population growth was always a good thing, so of course Governor Forbes had been vindicated.
Arranged on his desk were some photographs of past liberal icons. There was the inevitable picture of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, although why they continued to genuflect to that racist xenophobic nationalist he never would understand. It was the picture of Senator Ted Kennedy, a distant relative of his from the 20th century that he most respected. Sure, they had made many advances since his day, but he often felt that it was Senator Kennedy that had truly taken liberalism away from its racist and xenophobic roots, and helped to turn it into the shining light for progress that it was today.
First, Senator Kennedy, pushing for what was known as the “Greenspan Plan” had moved to take money away from the wage-funded pensions of the middle class and use the money to subsidize tax cuts for the super-rich. This ensured that finance was healthy and there would ultimately be more for all. Then he had pushed for free-trade agreements, thus tearing up the barriers that prevented the working class from benefiting from cheap labor from all over the world. The greatest achievement of Senator Kennedy was in crushing the vile idea that too many people could in any way be considered a bad thing. The Senator had acted to massively increase the population of the then-United States, but more importantly, had used his power and influence to kill the old Keynesian/Millian/Riccardian/Malthusian idea that too many people could possibly be anything other than an unalloyed blessing.
Senator Kennedy had been known as ‘the liberal lion.’ for his steadfast support of the working class and defense of those less fortunate than himself. Lately some news reports had been referring to himself using the same phrase; Governor Forbes approved and authorized promotions for the journalists responsible.
Consider his junior staff. He liked to order them from the staffing agency in sixpacks. Currently they were a matched set of females, all between 160 and 166 cm tall, with flawless blond hair and light skin. When he ordered them they were shipped in transparent plastic packages that he got to unwrap like it was Christmas.
Forbes knew that junior staff didn’t really come from a factory in packages: the staffing agency would have them climb into the large clear-fronted boxes just before they were delivered, and they would hold completely still until he opened them up. Still, Governor Forbes loved unwrapping presents.
Once, a few decades ago, the rate of population growth had slacked off. When he ordered new staff they had been grossly mismatched; the shortest and the tallest were more than 15 centimeters different in height, and he had had to pay 50% more than he had previously. When he called the staffing agency to complain, they had apologized but claimed that the labor market was tightening up, and with barely 100 qualified applicants for each job it was just not that easy to get matched sets of talented staff any more.
Well, that had focused his mind. He pushed for a new campaign to maximize population growth, because people are the ultimate resource. He had a major public-relations campaign initiated to encourage people to have large families. In places where that failed he had replaced the population with peoples who were less selfish and more family-oriented, and he started a program to give cash awards to people with large numbers of children. Within less than a decade the population growth rates had jumped back up.
The next time that he ordered a new sixpack of junior staff –natural redheads this time – they were all within 5 centimeters height of each other (it was normally very hard to get natural redheads in matched sets), dressed in cute little identical sailor suits. Not only were they 10% cheaper than usual but he got a discount coupon for the next set! So how could one claim that there could possibly be such a thing as ‘too many people?’ For example, if there had not been enough people, the jobs of his junior staff might have gone unfilled, which meant that there would be fewer jobs, and therefore people would be unemployed, and go hungry and suffer.
There were places on the Earth where people were running out of food, and the population was starting to decline. Obviously, people were running out of food because there were not enough people! If only people were not so selfish, and they would have enough children, then there would be enough people to solve all of their problems and they would not be running out of food! The logic is so obvious that only the vilest homophobic racist would dare to disagree.
Lately he had been talking with some biologists, to see if there was some way that human beings could be changed to naturally have enough children without having to persuade them (because that was such a tiresome business). Farmers never have to worry about this when dealing with cattle or chickens, why should he when dealing with people? Population growth should not be left to the whim of individual people, but should be set by experts with the proper credentials.
No, the problems of global warming and ecological disaster were not because there were too many people. They just needed to conserve, and develop green industries, and live in harmony with the planet. ‘Think locally, act globally.’ Or was that ‘act globally and think locally?’ Governor Forbes could never get tha
t straight, but either way, it was true.
Ultimately the problem was that people were too selfish, and it was their unchecked greed for material things that was ruining the planet. If only people would be happier with less they could have a paradise.
Once he had moved to show the power of his ideas in a demonstration town. He had flown in experts in green industries and living in harmony with the earth and sustainable agriculture. There had been a whole day of marvelous speeches by experts from around the world extolling the virtues of green industries and living in harmony with the earth and sustainable agriculture. It was truly inspirational.
During a break in the speeches Governor Forbes had thought that he had overheard one of the townspeople muttering about when would they bring in people who actually knew anything about real farming? The Governor had frowned; his staff, ever alert to his sensitive moods, had ensured that such mutterings did not recur.
He cut the town off from the supplies of agribusiness-produced food so that the people could eat healthy, locally produced fruits and vegetables. He also imported several thousand refugees from an island that had sunk (or something) – with all these extra hands and minds to help out, the town could not fail to prosper.
They had even had a gay marriage performed! Such a wonderful demonstration that love triumphs over all, and a re-affirmation of the benefits of tolerance and diversity and equity across gender roles in a multicultural society.
He had heard some months later that the town had been driven to starvation, and had eventually been destroyed by the regular army in order to quell a terrorist insurrection. The Governor’s mood had darkened. The forces of reaction and hatred and homophobia were not to be easily defeated. He would have to take heart, and redouble his efforts in the future.
Neoliberal Economists Must Die ! (An Old Guy/Cybertank Adventure Book 3) Page 8
