Neoliberal Economists Must Die ! (An Old Guy/Cybertank Adventure Book 3)

by Timothy Gawne

  “Astonishingly good news! Do you think that they might mount a rescue mission for us?”

  “A rescue mission? Absolutely not. Even if we could restore long-range laser contact, the time required for a message to reach them and for them to send physical aid would be well over a decade. We will have solved our own problems, or not, by then, one way or another. Interstellar transport is both slow and expensive. There is simply no known practical way for them to scoop up a few tens of millions of survivors. Any rescue to be had must be one of our own devising.”

  “As you say. Still, the Neoliberals defeated, and not – I presume? – gone because of a total system-wide collapse? What word of that?”

  “Would that we knew more. It seems that the aliens mounted a major assault on that star system. The dissident factions used the opportunity to gain enough freedom of action to defeat both the aliens and the Neoliberals. We think that some of our brother chapters were involved, as well as the university-based society known as the Pedagogues, and probably others as well. The defeat of the Neoliberals also appeared to involve the creation of a new kind of artificial intelligence known as a ‘cybertank.’ We have little direct data on such ‘cybertanks,’ but there was a message purportedly from one such requesting membership in our brotherhood.”

  “This is not another artificial intelligence fiasco like Globus Pallidus XIV, is it?”

  “Again, confirmatory data is lacking, but the probability of that appears to be low. These ‘cybertanks’ are – apparently – essentially human in their psychological makeup. Our communications satellites are likely still operational in their high orbits, and eventually we should be able to resume contact and find out.”

  “Why aren’t the aliens attacking us here on Earth?”

  “I had thought that would be obvious. The aliens would have seen that society here was near collapse, and realized that we would destroy ourselves. As Napoleon once said, never stand in the way of an enemy that is busy destroying itself.”

  “But might they not come back when we are helpless, to finish the task of exterminating us?”

  The older man nodded. “They might. Should they attack us now, we would be defenseless. Let us hope that they have written us off, or that when they do come around again we are in a better position to deal with them.”

  “Let us hope. However, one thing I have always been unclear about: what exactly is it that the aliens want? To keep us penned up, limited, like animals in a zoo?”

  “The taint of neoliberalism has soaked in so deep that I fear we will be generations fully freeing ourselves from it. No, the aliens were explicit that humanity was not to be coralled, or limited, or prevented from going anywhere, really. The only wanted us to control our numbers. Not limit, just control. There is a difference.”

  “It seems a subtle point to me. What, exactly, is this difference?”

  “Consider the human body. As it matures, it can and should grow and develop. Even as an adult, if you eat more food than you require, your fat reserves will expand. If you exercise, your muscles will increase in bulk. All this is fine. But what if a part of your body started to grow without restraint? Would you exult that there would be more of you? Of course not! You would recoil in horror, would condemn it as cancer, and do everything in your power to cut it out and kill it. The only thing that you need to know about cancer is that it grows without restraint: that alone makes it a deadly threat.”

  “And that is how the aliens view us?”

  “Of course. As long as we only bred and died on this one planet we were of no concern. Once we developed technology capable of travelling to other stars, things became different. Our unchecked exponential growth made us automatically something to be exterminated as soon as possible.”

  “The aliens truly have no objection to us expanding our civilization?”

  “No, they don’t. The universe is vast with plenty of room for all. As long as we don’t get in the way of established colonies, and ask permission if we want to create a base in a star system that already has a significant alien presence, we can do as we like. Only, as big as the universe is, even it cannot hold something that goes from 1, to 2, to 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128, 256, 512, 1024, 2048, 4096, 8192, 16384, 32768, 65536, 131072, 262144, 524288, 1048576, 2097152, 8388608, 16777216, 33554432, 67108864, 134217728, 268435456, 536870912, 1073741824, 2147483648, 4294967296, 8589934592, …”

  “Yes, I am familiar with the consequences of exponential growth. But even if we do start to control our numbers, how could we ever convince the aliens that we had reformed? When a surgeon excises a cancer, they endeavor to kill any surviving cells to ensure that it does not grow back. Will not the aliens do the same to us?”

  The older man nodded. “That is a major concern. At this point simply saying that we are sorry and promise not to do it again may not be enough. They might conclude that this was just a stratagem born of desperation and that we would go back to our old bad habits at first opportunity. How we might convince an alien culture, with which we share no common referents, that we have really changed is something that many of our best savants are even now debating.”

  “It is a puzzle. Fortunately the speed of light should give us time to solve it.”

  “Agreed. Conflicts between star systems move slowly, unlike those on the surface of a planet. Speaking of surface combat, the brothers of the editing squads continue to express an interest in you. Your skills at both scholarship and field-craft have not gone un-noticed.”

  “The editing squads. I would prefer to avoid euphemism and refer to them by a truer name: the assassination teams. I am flattered by their interest but I am happier as a scout and scavenger.”

  “Do you doubt the holy work of the editing squads? Hunting down the remnants of the Neoliberals, wiping the world clean of their vile corruption. Surely there can be little action more hallowed?”

  “I do not deny either the necessity or the justice of killing the Neoliberals, it is only that I myself would prefer that someone else do it. Also, I personally have a problem with revenge. Should we not simply forgive and forget, and try to move forwards?”

  “Ah, you always had a generous spirit. In most cases you would be correct. But when dealing with an evil as extreme as Neoliberalism, it would be unethical not to kill them. Recall also the teaching of our order, that revenge is a blessed act of selflessness. If someone does you a wrong, and you turn the other cheek and refuse to retaliate, you limit the possible harm that such a person could do to you in the present, but then you are responsible for all the evil that they do to others in the future. To punish those that do wrong, even if it costs you personally in the short run, is the heart of any effective morality.”

  “Wisdom, as always. Were there none other suited, I would of course volunteer. Yet, is it really a final answer, to kill the neoliberals? Surely the temptation to take the quick and easy path lies within all of us: even if we managed to kill every single neoliberal economist alive, might not the same rot arise again not many generations hence?

  “Truth. And one that we would be wise to remember. The battle is never won, but must be fought anew with each succeeding generation. The instant that you think that you have solved the problem forever and you can stop worrying about it, is the instant that the corruption takes seed and begins to rise again. Nevertheless, in the short run, if we do not utterly crush the Neoliberals and the deep state that they have created, they will counterattack in short order. The historical record is clear: after any revolution you must expunge the opposition or they will gather their forces and crush you in return. Neoliberal economists must die.”

  “Agreed. The encryptocalypse also makes this the right time to take the surviving neoliberals down, as we are one of the few groups with functioning data-networks.”

  The older man sighed. “Encryptocalypse is a term that I would see denigrated. I prefer the copy-protection collapse event. All those computers that had been designed with inbuilt unbreakable codes, so that they co
uld be controlled and shut down if the correct permissions were not available. The entire society became dependent on these computer networks. Then as the social order began to collapse under the pressure of overpopulation, the computers could not reach the appropriate centers to verify their codes, and they shut down, could not be restarted, and it all fell apart.”

  “I know all of that, but surely there would have been emergency procedures in place? Repair teams with specialist equipment and master keys, that sort of thing?”

  “There were, but they could only handle one crisis at a time. As things unraveled the repair teams could not get to where they needed to be in time. When one system crashed, you could deal with it at leisure. When all the systems crashed at once, there was a time limit because the entire structure of society would unravel. It was compounded by the multiple nature of the crashes: the repair team could not get to site A because the transport systems’ computers were down. They could not get the transport computers up because they would need to get to the transport computer site. They could not use alternate systems because the computers controlling access to those sites were also down. The keys to one system required the operation of a second system, but that system required the operation of a third system, which required the operation of the first, and so on.”

  “And of course trying to keep over a hundred billion people alive on a single planet didn’t help. All those complex recycling and life support systems, and they all had to work perfectly with no margin for error.”

  “Indeed. In many ways we Librarians, living in deep tunnels using scavenged and hacked-together systems, have an easier time of it. Our modest numbers give us so much more slack.”

  “I am surprised that the military did not have computer systems that were immune to this sort of thing.”

  “Yes. The military was surprised about this as well. The computers that they use to do things like target missiles or communicate in hostile environments had special dispensations. Except for things like the codes for nuclear weapons, military systems are designed to be robust, and they don’t need to contact central servers for permission to operate. The problem is that a large and complex organization like a modern military needs more than missile-targeting software to operate. They also need software to deal with paying the troops, transferring personnel, ordering supplies and spare parts, and so on. Amateurs talk tactics, …”

  “... and professionals talk logistics, I know. What good is a semi-sentient hypersonic multi-warhead missile if you can’t order the spare parts needed to keep it operating? If the technicians don’t get paid, or get medical care, or regular deliveries of food? When the greater society went down, it took most of the regular military with it.”

  “And we humble Librarians, with one of the few functional data networks left in the system, are now becoming a power. With luck, we may provide the nucleus of a new civilization that will not make the same mistakes as the old one.”

  “Haven’t any of the military factions been able to recover?”

  “Beating a bronze sword into a plowshare is one thing: using the targeting computer from a point-defense railgun to organize food distribution is another. The military as an integrated system-wide organization is done. Still, some of the military people are smart and resourceful. There are a fair number of organized pockets of them left. Some of the more intellectually-minded we have absorbed into ourselves. Others we have come to terms with. They remain isolated, and as they come to rely on us for network access and education, we shall eventually subsume them as well.”

  “I am surprised that the Neoliberals could not develop their own functional networks. Surely the technology that we use is not that complex?”

  “Ah, but the Neoliberals were victim not just of the copy-protection event, but of their own corruption. They had been lying so facilely for so long that they believed their own lies, and could not tell truth from fiction – indeed, towards the end they lost the ability to even conceive that there was a difference between truth and fiction. Their control over society was so total that anything they uttered was treated as fact by all concerned. For the Neoliberals truth was defined as their own desires, and not as an independent entity to discover through investigation and logic. This was fine as long as everything was operating status quo, but when conditions changed they were helpless. They no longer had the ability to think rationally or adapt.”

  “I have heard rumors that our order assisted the collapse of the Neoliberals via targeted assassinations, and the spreading of misinformation through their data networks.”

  “The targeted assassinations I can attest to. Those few mid- and low- level Neoliberal functionaries who looked like they still maintained the essentials of reason and decency were actively recruited by us. If they turned us down, we killed them to deprive our enemies of any chance of recovery. But corrupting their data networks? I assure you, any such rumor is the basest lie. That would be anathema to our order. Corrupting sacred data is the weapon of the Neoliberal, and fighting that corruption is the basis of our brotherhood. No Librarian would ever stoop so low, and if one did, we would excommunicate them immediately from our order. In any event, nobody could have done a better job at corrupting the Neoliberal databases than the Neoliberals themselves.”

  “But don’t we use misdirection in combat?”

  “Tactically yes. We might launch a small attack on one outpost, making the enemy think that our main force is heading there, and then attack a different location. That is not really a lie: the enemy jumped to a false conclusion. They should have paid more attention. It is not the same thing as distorting a primary database.”

  “Isn’t the use of deception a bit of a slippery slope?”

  “Yes,” agreed the older man, “it is. At what point does something like jamming an enemies’ radar turn into spreading untruths? On the one hand it is impossible to fight effectively without the creative use of misdirection. On the other hand once you start using lies to gain advantage, the temptation will be overwhelming to use this method all the time, not just tactically but also strategically. This could lead to a deeper rot. We continue to work on this matter, but recall that our order has no prohibition against lying per se. It is organized archives that are our concern.”

  “In principle one can misdirect by telling an enemy things that are true, but which they would be likely to misinterpret.”

  “Absolutely not! By the beard of Zenodotus, a lie of omission is even worse than a lie of commission! The greatest falsehoods are those that use true facts selectively, or that mis-direct searches to things which are true but miss key points!”

  The younger man bowed his head. “The data is sacred, but the catalog is divine.”

  The older man also bowed his head. “The data is sacred, but the catalog is divine. For without the catalog, the records cannot be found, and records that cannot be found are not records at all. Those who knowingly falsify the primary record shall stand condemned, but those who knowingly corrupt a search engine shall be reviled and outcast and may their poisoned souls dissolve into stinking metaphorical pus.”

  “Stinking metaphorical pus?”

  “Sorry, I got a bit carried away there. I was never all that good with the long florid curses. I’ll have to work on it.”

  “How about this: may their twisted souls rot forever in a hell of their own filth and corruption?”

  “Why, that’s quite good! I’ll have to write that one down. I may use it myself – with attribution, of course.”

  “You flatter me, brother.”

  “Not at all. Being able to generate a good long curse is a minor art whose utility is nonetheless greater than most appreciate. It has to have a certain resonance, a certain, well, gravitas. You are a natural talent.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Not at all. Anyway, to more practical matters. As impressive as your fieldcraft is, your scouting forays yield up progressively less in both loot and information. I have discussed this with council,
and we have decided to end these missions. We will not risk valued personnel in increasingly hazardous conditions for decreasingly useful rewards. In the future we will use robotic systems to keep track of surface conditions, just in case something interesting ever does happen up there. Thus the question presents: where do you see your interests taking you? “

  “Why wherever the order needs me most, Brother Mahalanobis.”

  “The council realizes that, and respects you for it. However, we are slowly moving beyond our roots as a minor group of eccentric scholars barely surviving in the walls of society, into a major culture of our own. The days of desperation when we had to use top minds such as yourself as infantry are, thankfully, coming to a close.”

  “Aren’t current conditions desperate?”

  “Yes, they are; but not day-to-day desperate. We have gotten sufficiently ahead of the so-called ‘power curve’ that we are reasonably secure right now. In the years to come, certainly, we have many problems to surmount. How to ensure enough breathable air now that the biosphere is dead; how to keep the fusion reactors going when our ability to dump waste heat is degraded by the planets’ thermal meltdown; dealing with schismatic ideological offshoots; and so on. I have a list somewhere of desperate problems that I keep for when my memory fails me. Sadly, it’s rather long. But for now we have the luxury (or perhaps I should say the advantage) of being able to think about where our most skilled brothers and sisters would be best employed. What say you?”

  “You know that I am not interested in joining the editing squads – unless, of course, the council commands.”

  “The council never commands but only recommends – which could be construed as a greater arrogance but that’s another story. We are aware of your desires as regards assassination and see no compelling reason to request that you reconsider. Still, for someone who started with a PhD in Scandinavian Textile History your talents in small-unit tactics are impressive. Proof that a strong and disciplined mind is the ultimate strength. Perhaps you would consider a position as associate professor in the department of urban warfare?”