I tried an overlay of filch housing patterns on the census blocs, and geographically, it came out that sixty percent of the land in southside was filch estates, but southside as a whole, even with the near filch and the high sariman, only held about ten percent of the Denv area population. That was rough, very rough. And if I came too close, then the District Advocate might come down on PrimeNews for privacy violations.
There might be a way, but that would take time, which was short. I ran a full archive search—both of the news-to-print files and the holocast files—just using the terms "filch" and "murder.” Less than fifty matches in the past ten years.
That seemed odd, far too low. So I expanded the time frame to fifty years. That showed up with 270, also seeming low, but enough to work with for refined scans. I definitely had some work ahead of me. I also had to dig up some of the education and immigrant support figures—if I could find them. Then, I had to offer the PrimeNews slant.
Chapter 6
Cannon
"Good morning, Chairman Cannon.” Halberstem greeted me as I walked up to the GIL verifier at the members' door to the Economics and Commerce Committee hearing chamber.
"Good morning.” I offered a smile. "How's Andrea?" Andrea was his daughter. She'd just gotten her law degree and certification as a solicitor in the Deseret District bar. Lovely girl, and bright. Too bad she hadn't found the right man yet. But she had time. The verifier light flashed green. It always did. We hadn't had someone try to impersonate a senator in more than twenty years, not at the capitol in Denv, anyway.
"She's fine. She'll be starting with Higgins, Scolino, and Knaak next week. She's excited.” Halberstem smiled. "She really appreciated the leather case, Senator.”
"It was my pleasure.” And a reminder to Halberstem that I rewarded families as well for their father's—or mother's—loyalty. "Give her my best.”
I was among the first in the members' chamber behind the dais. It was a severe long room with several consoles against one wall and two small oblong conference tables with straight-backed chairs around them.
"How long will this be?" asked Owen Ridings, the newly elected senator from the Piedmont. His long red hair was tied back in the rediscovered colonial fashion, except Owen was anything but colonial in outlook.
"Too long, Owen.” I grinned. "It's a simple technical bill, and most of the members understand it.” The hearing was a markup session on legislation to streamline the functions of NASR—the NorAm Securities Registry. He groaned.
With a nod, I slipped through the door to the main hearing room and took my place in the chairman's seat in the middle of the curved and raised wooden desk-dais—real oak, and dating back more than a century. The hearing room was less than half full, and most of those that were there were either securities solicitors or their paralegal staffers.
Owen followed me in and took his seat at the left end. I sat there for four minutes, until ten o'clock sharp. "This committee will come to order. The business at hand is consideration of S. 127, legislation to provide technical improvements in the organization of the NorAm Securities Registry.” I glanced around.
"Mr. Chairman,” announced Senator Peres, sitting at the far left side of the dais, "I have an amendment at the desk.”
"The clerk will read the amendment,” I began. "I ask consent that the reading be dispensed with, Mr. Chairman. Each senator has a hard copy and a linkfile.”
"So ordered.”
"This amendment,” Peres continued in her growling low voice, "is designed to clarify reporting requirements for significant shareholders. Under the current requirements, for example, trusts held by non-immediate family members are not considered under the control of a single entity. Nor are irrevocable trusts to minors, even when the trustee has orders from a guardian who may also hold a significant bloc of such securities. This amendment requires reporting of such circumstances and makes failure to report such holdings a class one administrative felony, the same as failure to report significant holdings under current law. A fuller description is on each committee member's link.”
"A moment for objection, Mr. Chairman?" That was Teddy Ohlsenn, a predictably conservative senator, which was good because he hadn't been the most predictable or the brightest of securities solicitors before he had been elected senator from the High Plains District.
"Two minutes.”
"The senator's amendment will do nothing but reduce the protections of the privacy laws, without providing any real protection for either investors or for the institutions whose share trading is being regulated by NASR. More importantly, it will increase the work hours of both the NASR registry section and of every institution traded on any level one exchange. In effect, the amendment will add nearly two percent to operating costs. I've sent a cost analysis to each of your committee-links. If you would just look at the figures, you'll see what I mean.”
I smiled. It was a nice speech, and the facts were in the links, just as Teddy had said, neatly prepared by CASD. It didn't matter. The speech and facts were for the record. CASD already had the votes to defeat the amendment.
"Are there any other points?" I asked.
"A point of information, Mr. Chairman,” Peres requested. "A question for the distinguished senator from the High Plains.”
"A question for information purposes only.” I knew what was coming. So did Ohlsenn.
"Were the figures you provided developed by the Continental Association of Securities Dealers?"
"As the senator from Baja has surmised, CASD did provide the figures. They are the only organization outside NASR with the expertise and data to do so.”
"Let that be noted,” replied Peres.
"So noted.” I nodded. "The vote is on the amendment Please signify yes or no.”
The lights before each member lit. Eight red, three green, and the amendment was defeated.
"The next amendment before the committee…”
The markup lasted all morning, until after one o'clock, when the committee voted to send the bill to the full Senate, by the vote margin that had characterized most of the amendments—nine to two.
After graveling the markup to a close, I ducked back to the members' room. There were sandwiches on one of the conference tables. Whenever a committee meeting went past noon, Halberstem had them on a tray there, under my standing instructions, along with various beverages. I'd found that even that simple gesture made the other committee members less fractious in long meetings.
I took a turkey and bacon sandwich—formulated, but from one of the regal units, so that it was almost as good as the real thing. Hungry as I was, I finished it in minutes.
As I took a cup of water, Jo Jaffrey looked up from the end of the table where she was nibbling on one of the vegetable sandwiches—cucumbers, I thought. She swallowed and said, "We need to talk, Elden. I have the figures you asked for on the coastal reclamation legislation.”
"Next week? It won't come up for at least a month.”
She smiled. "I won't forget.” She had silvery hair, probably natural, one of those genetic throwbacks that nanites didn't correct. She could have colored it, but she wasn't that type.
"I know.” I laughed. "I do know.”
"Until then. I'll call you.”
I nodded and finished the second sandwich before slipping out and walking the back corridors to my office.
There, Ciella was waiting. "All of your appointments are on your linklist, Senator.” She tried to conceal a frown. She had nice long legs and a good smile, even if she wasn't smiling at the moment. The rest of the package was just as good.
"Thank you.” I'd known they were, because she was good and always had them listed, but I enjoyed looking at her. I'd have enjoyed more, but that wasn't in her job classification, and it wouldn't have gone over well with voters, especially women. Or with Elise. I wasn't the kind that could get away with that. A man has to know his limits, especially in politics. "I may have to change some of them, once I meet with Canthrop. I'll
let you know. I'll also let you know when I want to leave for St. George on Friday.”
"Yes, Senator. Is that all?"
"For now, Ciella. Thank you.” I gave her a warm smile, the paternal and friendly one, before I walked into my office. There, I went to the window and looked out on the hills to the south and west. After the cold and overcast of the past week, the sunlight was welcome, and it would make what I had to do less difficult. People are always easier to persuade when they feel cheerful.
Denv was a far better place for a continental capital than any of the old national capitals. Anyway, all of the major ones, except MexCity, were underwater or uninhabitable, and Denv was close enough to Deseret District to make the travel easy.
Thirteen forty-two… you have eighteen minutes before the Canthrop appointment.
I clicked off the link reminder and seated myself behind the desk. Then I studied the holo projection that I called up in front of the desk. The first briefing item Ted had provided was the NorAm contribution to the World Patrol. Below that were the amendments that had been announced as being offered. D'Amico's wasn't there. He always waited until just before the debate deadline.
Ted, add in an amendment from Senator D'Amico that proposes a twelve point five percent increase in the WP contribution…
Is that on the WP funding resolution?
None other.
How… I mean, it wasn't listed… I know. But D'Amico will offer it. Do the same kind of analysis on that one and add it in. I cut off the link so he could work on it.
The second legislative item was the contribution to the Planetary Defense Force.
How much of the PDF contribution goes to the asteroid watch and protection program?
There was a pause. Twenty-nine point seven percent, ser, I mean, sir.
Thank you. I smiled. Ted Haraldsen was a good young man, already married, but he needed to get away from the unisex salutations. Men and women might be legally equal, but they were different, and the Senate wasn't the NorAm Guard or the WP or PDF. He'd learn.
I needed to get through the legislative items before Canthrop arrived. There'd be all too many things to handle afterward.
The fourth item bothered me. Always had. It was funding for baseline nanite and link enhancement for immigrants. The only immigrants NorAm got in large numbers were from Afrique, and those were required under the 2310 Protocol. We never should have agreed to that, but no one had anticipated that so many immigrants would be pouring out of Afrique more than half a century later. What was done was done, and we had to look to the future and set—or reset—the right precedents.
Ted?
Yes, sir?
The enhancement funding…
Do you want to offer your amendment from last session?
No. I'd thought about it. Not exactly. Let's trim it to ten percent of the total cost and have that repaid at one percent per year for ten years, and give a three-year grace period before it starts. That's only asking them to repay ten percent. Have each immigrant pay it through an income tax surcharge. You can work out the details.
Yes, sir. Even through the link, Ted sounded puzzled.
Don't worry about it. And draft me a short statement that explains that my interest is twofold. I believe we must always retain the principles that government works for everyone and that prosperity must go to all people, and must be paid for by all people. And I believe that this principle applies to high and low alike. Intimate that I'll be looking into filch abuses of this principle as the session continues.
Yes, sir.
Sometimes, politics was beautiful. The amendment would serve more than a few purposes, especially in dealing with Hansen in the campaign, but he wouldn't even see it coming until it was too late, if I handled it right. Who looked at amendments to minor line items? Until they made the news, no one did.
I leaned back in the big black leather chair and smiled, letting myself think about the beauty of it all for a minute, but only for a minute. There were twelve other items to read through and consider.
Before I knew it, the link chimed. Dr. Canthrop's here, Senator. I recognized Ciella's words even on link. Lovely girl.
Send him in. I cut the holo display and waited.
Canthrop had been a graduate economist who'd gone back and gotten his legal degree and then been a clerk assistant to the NorAm Advocate General before serving as the Advocate Counsel to the Public Affairs Committee. After ten years there, he'd opened his own firm. I'd been one of the first to retain him. I knew talent—and rewarded it.
Canthrop sank into the black leather armchair opposite the desk, brushing back his wispy blond hair. He had circles under his eyes, and I hadn't seen that before.
"Looks like you've had some long nights, Bill.”
The consultant nodded. "You would, too.”
"What's Hansen up to?"
"That'd be the last of your worries, Senator.” Canthrop was good, but sometimes you had to humor him, and it was one of those times. "What should be my worries?"
"Roberta Menstyr.”
"Never heard of her. Should I? Freelance advocate? Representative government agitator?"
"You and I both wish that. You're going to be seeing a lot of new rezads in the next few months. By the way, your family's basically Mormon, right? English stock?" I wasn't sure what he was getting at. So I let a touch of a frown show. "You know that. Why?"
"What netsys does your family usually track?"
"Is this—" I decided to play it straight. "I forgot. You don't joke. All right. I'll link. NorNet—you know, NorNews, the…”
"I know. Its coverage has gone from over fifteen percent to ninety percent of all English-stock NorAms for market share. That was another of her tests.” Canthrop rubbed his forehead. It didn't do much for his thin hair. I always wondered why he hadn't done something about it. "Most of that's in the last three months. Not all that obvious, of course, because genotypical English stock—enough for rhythmitonal resonance to work—only comprises around seventeen percent of the current NorAm population. But others are catching on.”
"Bill…” I said knowingly. "Isn't this at the edge of privacy material?"
"It probably is.” His voice was tired. "That's the least of my problems. Or yours.”
"It works, then?" I couldn't believe that. People had been trying to use resonance as a persuasion tool and worrying about it for half a century. Most holonet ads already used rez as a basis, even without whatever Canthrop was talking about. "I thought it was only good for getting the younger folks into music.” I grinned humorously.
"Her version works. It really works. It has for a long time in the right conditions. There are records. Beethoven started it. Wagner gave it a push, and Goebbels and Speer orchestrated it for Hitler. Menstyr actually figured out the genetic basis and the mathematical resonances. At least five other firms besides Talemen Associates are working on ad campaigns based on the new developments, but Menstyr got herself a patent on some of it, I think. She'll probably get pretty wealthy… if she can live with herself nights.”
"People have been playing around with resonance effects for almost fifty years. All the popular music uses it in some way or another. But so far no one's been able to put the overtones into the net—bandwidth problem, as I understand it. Why will this technology or whatever it is work when earlier versions didn't?"
"Senator… it works. Does it matter exactly how?"
I supposed it didn't. Not that I was all that clear on rhythmitonal resonance, except for how it generally worked, and that it did with music, especially on the emtwos, but I wasn't about to admit that. "It matters enough that I'll feel more comfortable if you'll tell me more.” More important, I might not know the technology, but I knew people, and the way he explained it would tell me more than the technology behind it.
Canthrop concealed a sigh, or tried to. Then he squared his shoulders and pulled out a thin bound folder. He extended it toward me.
"Hard copy?" I raised my eyebrows.
"We are skirting privacy.”
The consultant rubbed his forehead. "Could be, Senator. I'm not about to put this through any link. You want to read it… read it now.”
That was going to shoot the afternoon's schedule, but Canthrop usually had a point. And he looked worried. More worried than I'd seen him. I took the thin report. The cover was blank. So was the second page. The third page started talking about the history of the studies of resonance. I knew that. By the fourth page, I was reading intently.
… PET-monitored brain scans indicate a significant differentiation between the metabolites of neurotransmitters of those subjects identified as carriers of RTR-1, the segment studied for susceptibility to rhythmitonal resonance reaction…
The consistent and well-replicated finding that RTR-1 carriers demonstrate neuromotor and associated cortical resonance reactions to class one rhythmitonality patterns also indirectly supports a neurobiological hypothesis that rhythmitonal susceptibility is genotypically imprinted…
Results in line with the supportive CBF findings were recently reported in a study using BEAM technology for computer averaging of EEG tasks during cognitive tasks involving decision making (Elyysiet, 2358). More specifically, increased patterns of reactivity were found in the frontal areas of the subjects, relative to controls. Despite their apparent support for rhythmitonal susceptibility, these sorts of investigations will require careful replication before much confidence can be placed in their conclusions”
Results are also needed on subjects who have clear psychopathologic disorders in order to determine the specificity of the preliminary findings concerning RTR-1 susceptibility to culturally attuned rhythmitonal resonances”
Culturally attuned rhythmitonal resonances? I nodded slowly. "Does Hansen know anything about this?"
Canthrop shrugged. "I couldn't say.”
"Hadn't we better design the campaign around this? Or have it as a strong component?"
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