Chapter 72
2064: Morlock Engineering office, Aristillus, Lunar Nearside
Javier looked at the new conference room window. "Did you get to the bottom of that protest?"
Mike grimaced. "Kind of. By the time the First Morlock got here, most of the protesters had run but my people managed to grab two of them. Turns out that it was a flash mob - recruited over the net, paid anonymously. Oh, and this is fun." He gestured at the wallscreen. A few web pages opened. "Video clips of it started showing up online. Some of it's already been incorporated in news posts."
Javier's forehead furrowed. "Posted by who?"
Mike shook his head. "No one I've ever heard of."
"That...that makes very little sense."
Mike shrugged. "Tell me about it. I'm wondering if Mark Soldner might be behind it."
"Mark? Why would he -"
"Long story. And the order's wrong, but I wonder... Anyway, not worth talking about it."
"Well, let's talk about something else then - like your damned behavior at the last meeting." Javier shook his head in a mixture of sorrow and confusion. "What the hell, Mike?"
Mike held his hands up, placatingly. "Look, I know I was a bit rowdy-"
Javier said nothing of a long moment. Mike prepared for a lecture from his old friend, but in the end Javier just shrugged and looked away.
"Jave - what?"
Javier looked back. "Mike, I'm not going to yell at you. You're an adult. You know that we're at war. You know the stakes. And you know that before you can win the shooting war, you have to win the opinion war with the other CEOs here." Javier crossed his arms. "But don't let me bully you. Do what you want."
Mike looked away.
Shit.
He wished Javier would just lecture him more. That was easier to take than his disappointment.
Mike pursed his lips. "I'm going to get a coffee - can I get you one?"
Javier took a long time answering. "No."
Mike stood and looked at the new window - at anything other than Javier - as he headed to the kitchenette.
* * *
Mike and Javier sat at the table, avoiding each other's eyes. Mike looked at his slate. The meeting should start in fifteen minutes - people would begin arriving soon.
As if on cue there was some low noise from the hallway outside. Security must be letting someone through.
A moment later Mark Soldner came into view, then stopped at the doorway. Mike blinked then stood. "Mark! I didn't expec - I'm glad to see you."
Mark nodded curtly. Without much enthusiasm he said, "We've got a revolution to run.” He stepped into the room and took a seat.
Javier looked at Mike for a moment with an unvoiced question and then looked away.
* * *
"Ok," Hector said, "Mike's convinced me - we need more immigration. I only own a small share of TransportMEX, but I'll talk to the board. I'll also talk to Lisa at Fifth Ring and give her my point of view."
"Wait a second," Mark interrupted. "We still haven't voted on this." Mark looked down the length of the table. "Karina, what do you think?"
Karina picked up her stylus. "I'm not convinced that this is a good idea. I'm not concerned about cultural balance the way Mark is, but the vast majority of immigrants don't settle up their tax bills back on Earth before they come here. The Earth governments have been making more and more noise about budget shortfalls, and while the taxes lost via emigration are small, it's an important symbolic point. We want to avoid irritating them."
Mark nodded. "We each have different motivations, but I think that there are a lot of us who are leery of more immigration. I propose we vote."
Mike balled one first and started to get to his feet to denounce the very idea of voting - but then caught himself. Wait. He'd prepared for this.
Rob Wehrmann cleared his throat. "Vote? Vote on what?"
Mike smiled. Perfect.
Mark blinked. "Uh - on whether we should speed up immigration or slow it -"
Rob shook his head. "You don't get a say on it."
Mark drew back. "I - excuse me? I'm a member of the boardroom group, just like you. Of course I -"
Rob made a slashing gesture with his hand. "No. If Hector wants to encourage TransportMEX to run more ships, he can."
"Wait a second. We're not all on board with that. We have a right -"
Rob was visibly annoyed. "I don't care if you're on board with it. I don't get a vote on what time you take a dump in the morning, and you don't get a vote on how other people run their businesses."
Mark sputtered. "The point - the whole point of this meeting - is to work together, right? By voting?" His eyes involuntarily jumped to Mike and then away.
And then Mike realized: Mark wasn't back at the Boardroom Group because he'd given up his fight to establish a government. He was back because he thought this was the battleground where he could win.
Mike's nostrils flared.
He looked around the table. He'd prepped for this meeting, but he'd expected opposition from Karina and Albert Lai - not from Mark, who he'd thought would be boycotting. Javier had his back, but would hang back from this. He'd talked to Hector and Kurt “Wolf” Balcom, but neither of them -
Katherine Dycus cleared her throat. "Working together on certain things doesn't mean we have to vote on everything. This isn't a government, Mark - we're a bunch of people who fled from governments. The shipping guys are going to do what they want with their ships, and if you don't like it, you can try talk them out of it, one-on-one after the meeting." Katherine looked around. "Now, who's moderating this thing? I say we move on to the next topic."
Mike let a wisp of a smile creep onto his face. He hadn't worked with Katherine on this exact point, but he had talked with her before the meeting.
Mark scanned the room and gauged his support. After a moment he sat back.
Mike nodded. "OK, Katherine. Next topic: e-p doors. Rob?"
Rob Wehrmann started talking about the civil defense planning. Mike turned to his right where Javier was sitting. Javier met his eyes and let one raised eyebrow ask his question. Mike tilted his head in silent answer and let his smile grow.
* * *
Mike advanced the notes on the wallscreen. "Final item - MarCom. You've all read the recent polling data?" Heads nodded. "Fifty-six percent fully support armed resistance, and the rest are divided between neutral and opposed. We need to keep those we've already got and we need to convert neutrals."
"And we need to encourage support on Earth," Javier said. "Perhaps we can raise some funds, or exert pressure on the legislatures there."
Mike nodded "In both cases, we need marketing. Or, to be blunt, propaganda."
Albert Lai spoke. "Mike - pardon me for saying so, but it occurs to me that no one at this table is particularly skilled at marketing consumer goods." He looked around the table. "Tunneling. General construction. Mining. We all have b2b experience. Aside from Katherine selling spacesuits, I don't think any of us has done much b2c".
Katherine interrupted. "I actually sell most of my suits to the construction firms and Red Stripe. Aside from a few custom ones for the Dogs, we almost never deal with end users."
Albert nodded. "If anything, that makes my point stronger. None of us are skilled at reaching out to consumers."
Rob Wehrmann cleared his throat. "What are you saying? We pick a marketing firm? I've never been happy with any of the ones I've used. They all suck."
Albert shook his head. "Perhaps you're not using them appropriately."
"Now, wait a second. I know how to use a marketing firm."
Mike held up his hands. "Guys, hang on. I don't think we should pick a marketing firm. I've got a different idea."
"Are you going to enlighten us?"
"I think we should create prizes - cash prizes - for the best ads, or documentaries, or whatever."
Rob squinted. "Huh?"
Mike spread his hands. "It's an old idea. People haven't heard of it b
ecause they were made illegal in most countries decades back - along with futures markets and dominant assurance con - well, anyway. It's simple: we establish a cash prize, and then anyone who wants can submit an entry, and we have a jury that picks the best one and awards the prize."
Rob narrowed his eyes. "So we just say 'send us a commercial, and if we like it, we'll pay you... but if we don't we won't'?"
"Yeah."
Rob snorted. "I wouldn't fall for that scam."
Katherine said, "We award worker-owners in our coop in a similar way...but that's for small efficiency improvements. Has this ever worked on third party things?"
Rob scowled. "Or on anything in the real world, not in some damned hippie commune?"
Katherine pursed her lips at the insult but otherwise ignored Rob.
Mike nodded. "Yes. To both. The British Latitude Prize was the most famous, but the Ansari X Prize, the Google Lunar Prize - there are a bunch. I've included links in the handout."
Albert nodded and bent over his slate, tapping the references.
Karina put down her stylus. "This idea sounds...odd. Without direct control how do we know we'll get what we want? The messaging might not be consistent with our goals."
"We only give the award to who we pick."
"Yes, but if some of the nonwinning ads get out -"
"They're going to get out. All of them. We only give the prizes if the work is open sourced."
Karina pursed her lips. "This sounds remarkably..." she paused, "undisciplined. What sort of message consistency will we have?" She tapped her stylus on the table before rendering judgement. "I don't like the idea."
"What's your better idea? Pick one firm? Get five or ten people working on the problem?"
Karina nodded. "Yes, actually."
"This lets us leverage our resources. We mobilize a hundred thousand brains here in Aristillus, get them all working toward the same goal."
Albert Lai said, "If it's a good idea to mobilize brains, why not open this up to everyone?"
Mike tilted his head. "That's what I said."
"No. You said 'everyone in Aristillus'. There are nine billion brains back on Earth and you're leaving them out."
Mike was speechless for a moment. "On Earth?" He paused. "They're - that's the other side. I don't -"
"I like Albert's idea," Tran said.
Mark Soldner raised a hand. "Wait a second. What if someone on Earth wins? Do we actually pay them the prize money?"
Tran looked at Mark. "Maybe we should hope that someone on Earth wins. What better way to prove that the streets are paved with gold? That could even help with immigration."
Javier nodded. "If we're thinking about this as a recruiting tool, perhaps we factor popular voting - of anyone on Earth - into how we decide the winners.”
Mike's head swiveled back and forth as he followed the conversation. The idea was evolving more quickly than he'd expected.
Karina Roth put her stylus down. "I'd like to register objections. To the idea of prizes, to the idea of throwing entries open to everyone on Earth - and worst of all, to the idea of letting people on Earth vote for which are the winning prizes." She shook her head. "This represents a huge loss of control. Any sort of idea might get proposed."
Mike nodded. "Noted."
Karina said, "Before this goes any further, I think we should vote on it." She looked at Katherine and Rob and let annoyance creep into her voice. "Presuming this is one of the things we're allowed to vote on?"
Rob pursued his lips. "Don't be a drama queen. That was about private property. This is about Boardroom business. Of course we vote."
Mike held up a hand. "OK, we'll vote on it in just a minute. But there's a second idea that I want to throw out on the table before we vote." Karina furrowed her brow but said nothing. Mike looked around the room. "I think we should open-source the AG drive."
"Open-source?" Rob Wehrmann said. "What does that even mean?"
"It means that we give away the design for free. Make it public. Let anyone on Earth who wants to build a drive build one." He looked at Mark. "And then let them come here."
Rob exploded. "What the fuck - if we give away the drive design, the PKs will -"
"The PKs have already stolen three of our ships. If they're not building copies right now I'd be amazed. This isn't about giving away the design to the PKs - they already have it." He looked around. "Right now we know how to build ships, and the PKs do. The only ones who don't are the other nine billion people on Earth, and a lot of those nine billion are potentially allies."
Trang raised his eyebrow. "Let a thousand flowers bloom?"
"A thousand space ships, perhaps," Albert said.
Rob shook his head. "This fucking meeting is getting stranger and stranger."
Chapter 73
2064: Lai Docks and Air Traffic Control, Aristillus, Lunar Nearside
Michael Stuart-Test checked his board. Three incoming flights, four departing, a couple of dock-to-dock transfers. Nothing out of the ordinary.
The console phone rang and Michael sighed. Right in the middle of the really amazing glass harmonica solo from Octothorpe's second album. He hit pause.
The caller ID said John Hayes. Was that the John with the Dogs? John on Farside? That meant that the relay satellites were back.
Interesting.
He took the call. "Lai Docks and Air Traffic Control."
"Hi, I was calling for Darcy but the switchboard routed me here."
"Darcy's working from home today. Some side project. Is there anything I can help you with?"
"No, I. Hmm. Let me think for a second." A pause. "No, I'll just call Darcy on her cell."
"OK." Michael hung up, then hit play again. Octothorpe started up again - and it wasn't right. He shook his head. You couldn't just start this track in the middle. It built, starting simply, then adding a second rhythm, and then a third, working its way to up through pairs of primes. He sighed and restarted the track. There. Better. He closed his eyes for a moment and hummed along.
And then the phone rang.
God damn it.
Caller ID showed it was John again.
Michael hit pause on the music and answered, letting a trace of annoyance creep into his voice. "Yes, John, what can I do for you?"
"Darcy's not answering her personal phone, and I need to make a change to the next supply drop."
Michael sighed. This was part of his job. He brought up the screen for scheduling a hopper run. "OK, John, tell me your coordinates."
"Well, that's tricky. We're hiking, so where depends on when the drop happens."
Michael scanned the column. "We've got three automated cargo hoppers on the pad. Because of the energy weapon issue, Mr. Lai needs to sign off on all runs, but that shouldn't be a problem. We can probably have one to you in a few hours."
"I don't want an automated drop. I want Darcy to come out in a man-rated hopper."
"What? Why?"
At the other end of the line John paused, and then said, "Never mind. Look, when is Darcy due in the office?"
Michael checked the schedule. "She's working on her side project for a few days. She's scheduled to be back on Tuesday."
John sighed. "Have her call me."
Chapter 74
2064: 93 km south of Konstantinov Crater, Lunar Nearside
John stepped over the small stream and paused to admire the way the path was dappled with light that filtered down through the greenery. Blue and Max brushed past. Rex came even with him and stopped.
"John! I just did a pull merge from one of the forks - there's new monster encounters!"
A 'merge' and a 'fork'? Clearly this was something about software. John had been treated more than once to monologues explaining the difference between bulletin boards, code hubs, source wikis, and distro repositories and all the associated terminology, but none of it stuck with him.
"Uh-huh."
"This is epic - you've got to try it!"
John sighe
d. "All right, I'll bite. What are you talking about?"
"Haven't you been listening to us talk about it?"
"Pretend I'm starting at zero."
"The augmented reality package in the suits has an API-compliant back end, so it was trivial to write some glue code to tie it to the Open Generic MMORPG library. Just before Gamma's satellites got burned I uploaded the first pass at the project. I mean, when I uploaded it I didn't know that it was just before the sats got burned, because that hadn't happened yet - of course! - but, anyway, the really cool thing is that when the sats were down my post about it hit the front page at UnhygenicMacro.info! Can you believe that?"
John avoided asking what a macro was and what was unhygienic about it. "Front page? Really. Great."
"Yeah, I know, right? So, anyway, it made it up to the sixth ranked story, and then this one clade of Russian graphic designers back on Earth - well, they're not all Russians - but anyway, the clade started doing development work on it too. Look, it's easier to just show you. Let me give you the package."
A moment later John's helmet pinged as the patch installed itself. Rex's long-winded explanation went on and John half turned it out and pulled up a menu. There it was - right under the other environmental overlay choices. John selected the MMORPG that Rex had shared with him - and with a click the sun dappled forest was gone.
John looked around. He stood on a muddy trail that twisted between weird ferns. Above him scabrous ugly tree limbs overhung the trail. Ahead the ferns parted and gave way to huge strange mushrooms, the size of cars. Creepy hooting calls echoed over the audio channel.
In the upper left corner of his screen an information box was filled with some strange calligraphy. Was that first word "Mirkwood"? Beneath the title was a bullet pointed list of equipment, weapons, magic items, and gold. Magic items? John rolled his eyes.
"Has it loaded yet?"
"Yep, it's loaded. It looks... interesting."
"I know, right?! Look, I've got to study my scrolls to restore magic points, so I'm going to leave you on your own. You've got thirty silver Bree pennies, so you can equip."
The Powers of the Earth (Aristillus Book 1) Page 31
