by E. M. Foner
“I certainly hope not,” Kelly said, pulling out her diary and making a note to ask her son if he was self-medicating. “Have you been sitting in on any of the working group meetings?”
“Finance,” Wrylenth answered, and leaning closer to the EarthCent ambassador, he lowered his voice. “The representatives don’t seem to understand the concept of government investment.”
“I’m not sure I know what it means either. Are you saying they aren’t willing to spend on infrastructure?”
“They aren’t willing to spend on government. I’m beginning to suspect that Mrs. Cohan wouldn’t have been successful in auctioning the working group seats if your embassy hadn’t offered to pick up the food and drink tab for meetings in restaurants.”
“The lack of interest at the auction probably had less to do with a reluctance to spend and more to do with an aversion to committees,” Kelly said.
“Perhaps, but the working group members appear to be unwilling to commit to spending even the minor sums necessary to lease office space for the Human Empire.”
“We don’t pay rent for our embassy.”
“That’s because Earth is still a protectorate,” Wrylenth reminded her. “An empire will be expected to foot its own bills from the inception.”
“Ooh, that could be an issue,” Kelly admitted.
“We came to the same conclusion,” Roland contributed from Kelly’s other side. “The working group members our reporters have interviewed don’t want any part of building or operating an empire, especially if it costs money. The only reason they haven’t rejected it outright is that they’re afraid of losing face with the aliens.”
“Humans can’t remain probationary tunnel network members forever,” Wrylenth cautioned them. “Either you’ll establish some sort of governing body, or your people who leave Earth will eventually all end up as second-class citizens living in empires run by other species.”
“It looks like everybody is here,” Aabina announced to the two dozen or so audience members who were split between committee chairs, alien observers, and working press. “We won’t be using microphones since it’s just a small group. I have a list of the questions that your working groups need answered and I’ll be routing them to the appropriate experts. EarthCent Intelligence has sent Wrylenth, their analyst responsible for the Human Empire portfolio, and I’m sure everybody recognizes Ambassador McAllister, who has over four decades of practical experience in tunnel network diplomacy.”
“It can’t be forty years already,” Kelly said to herself as Aabina introduced Roland. She did a little quick math in her paperback diary, adding her time on Union Station to her early years working for EarthCent. Then she wrote herself a note to check with Donna about the retirement age again.
“—and Maker Dring, who is recording an official history,” Aabina finished up the introductions just as Kelly started paying attention again. “I’ll begin with a question about mandatory public works projects, namely, what sort of participation will be required on the part of the Human Empire. Roland?”
“Thank you, Aabina. I’d just like to remind everybody that the Galactic Free Press focuses our coverage on news that impacts humanity, and that defines the bounds of my knowledge of tunnel network activities. But given the popularity of human contract workers as a low-cost alternative to automation, we find ourselves publishing stories about most of the recent public works projects either mandated or encouraged by the Stryx.”
“Public works projects for the benefit of the tunnel network members,” Aabina prompted Roland.
“Yes. I’m afraid I’m more used to writing than speaking, so you’ll be getting my thoughts without the editing,” he said apologetically. “Some of the best-known projects involve historical preservation of lost civilizations, and keeping the space lanes around tunnel network exits clear of debris. The Stryx also enforce certain standards for self-preservation so that the member species don’t become burdens upon each other.”
“Could you give us some examples?”
“Well, let’s take the Empire of a Hundred Worlds,” Roland said. “Everybody knows that the majority of the imperial-controlled planets enforce tech-bans to varying degrees, but all tunnel network members are required to install asteroid protection systems so that they aren’t crying for a Stryx science ship to save them every time a chunk of space rock threatens millions of lives.”
“That’s very interesting,” Aabina said as if she hadn’t already known about the requirement. “Defending a planet against asteroids involves a significant investment, but how about some less visible projects?”
“Well, the publication of the All Species Cookbook has led to a surge of interest in what makes so many Earth foods digestible by the other species, and whatever that mechanism is, it leads to the possibility of shared parasites as well. So there’s an all-species project to collect and analyze samples of, uh, post-digestion waste—I don’t think I need to go into the details. But it’s a good example of a required contribution that doesn’t cost anything, in terms of creds, other than labeling and shipping small sample containers.”
“I believe we all get the picture,” Aabina concurred. “Ambassador McAllister. Many of the submitted questions deal with the diplomatic burden of running a Human Empire, such as opening and staffing embassies. But the various committee members are also concerned about humanity handling its own interspecies negotiations, from the interstellar ice-harvesting treaty to coordinating a tunnel network response to piracy. Everybody understands that the Stryx ban tunnel network members from warring on one another, but how much work goes on behind the scenes resolving disagreements over business and territory?”
“One of the greatest surprises for me when I became an ambassador was the number of mandated interspecies meetings the Stryx added to my calendar,” Kelly said. “I even found myself attending a session on gaming tournament rules, one of many subjects about which I knew nothing. But the important thing is that the ambassadors on all of the Stryx stations are constantly sitting down with one another and getting their grievances out in the open before they can fester.”
“So how are most problems settled?” Aabina prompted. “Do you take votes? Does money exchange hands? Do the Stryx always have the last word?”
“I’d be lying if I told you that I fully understood the process myself, but once we get together and start talking, things have a way of working themselves out,” Kelly said. “The Stryx rarely even express an opinion, but representatives of the older species that have been tunnel network members for millions of years already know what’s expected.”
“Wrylenth,” Aabina continued, spreading around the questions like a professional moderator. “Humanity has no interstellar navy of its own, and there were several questions about the costs of building the minimum required fleet for a Human Empire.”
“One of the drawbacks to humanity’s early admission to the tunnel network is that we, if you’ll excuse my use of the pronoun to talk about all of you, lack the technological base to construct such a fleet,” the Verlock said. “While the capabilities of warships vary greatly by species, Human manufacturers would have difficulty building a lifeboat that meets the minimum safety standard.”
“So are you saying that a Human Empire isn’t actually a possibility because we ultimately won’t be able to fulfill our treaty obligations?”
“The Thousand Cycle option allows us to obtain a home fleet waiver until the empire’s finances can support one,” Wrylenth explained. “If we meet all of the other requirements, the Stryx will eventually help us finance the purchase of surplus ships from one of the less advanced species.”
“The Stryx will help us buy military ships?” Kelly asked in surprise.
“Although it may sound counterintuitive, subsidizing the cost of purchasing alien warships by a responsible government will help remove hazardous equipment from the pre-owned market. The fleet requirement might also be met by purchasing support vessels to contribute to the
mutual defense, such as armored tugs and hospital ships.”
“A leaked intelligence estimate from one of the tunnel network species has estimated the GEP, or Gross Empire Productivity, for a Human Empire consisting of current CoSHC members at less than six trillion creds,” Aabina said. “How much would we be expected to spend on a fleet?”
“One of the advantages of the Thousand Cycle option is that the two-percent of GEP requirement doesn’t take effect until the end of the mentoring period,” Wrylenth said. “After that, the build-up would be gradual, and of course, our productivity will be much higher by then.”
“One question that was submitted by every working group asks whether we’re insane to even be considering an empire. Perhaps you’d like to field this question, Ambassador?”
“I’ll point out again that none of us on this panel are members of sovereign human communities or have a direct say in the process of accepting or rejecting empire status,” Kelly said. “If you reject declaring a Human Empire through the transparent process that’s been set up, the whole issue will go away without prejudice. That said, EarthCent, which I do represent, does feel that it’s important for us all to begin thinking about the day that Earth is no longer a Stryx protectorate.”
“And what do you believe will happen if humanity has failed to establish some sort of central government when that day arrives?” Aabina followed up.
“I’m not much of a prophet, but I’ve discussed this possibility many times with my colleagues. Our main worry is that the sovereign human communities will eventually become isolated and cease to identify as part of humanity. It’s unclear what would happen to Earth itself if it fails to achieve full tunnel network membership on its own.”
“And a related question asked by the vocal minority is, why doesn’t EarthCent step up and handle this?”
“You have to remember that the diplomatic organization I serve is funded by the Stryx and was set up so that the other tunnel network members would have a single point of contact to deal with Earth,” Kelly explained. “While all EarthCent employees take an oath to do our best for humanity, we try to keep in mind that we have no mandate from the people we are attempting to serve.”
“Do you have something to add, Wrylenth?” Aabina asked.
“The Conference of Sovereign Human Communities has all of the makings of an empire but has yet to progress beyond a loose business organization. While the start-up costs for an empire are high, EarthCent Intelligence’s contingency planning expert believes that the eventual advantages greatly outweigh the growing pains. Remember that all of the other tunnel network species made extraordinary sacrifices to achieve interstellar travel.”
“Isn’t Wrylenth the contingency planning expert?” Kelly subvoced to Libby.
“Yes,” the station librarian replied. “It’s impressive how working for EarthCent Intelligence has built up his confidence. Young Verlocks are usually far more reticent with their opinions.”
“But the required sacrifice will be different for humanity,” Roland pointed out. “The much larger investments you speak of the other species making were simply a matter of capital allocation since the money stayed at home. Purchasing warships from other species would lead to the Human Empire exporting Stryx creds.”
“That’s true,” Wrylenth acknowledged, “but roughly half of humanity is currently working on alien worlds under contract, and they remit money to Earth in the form of Stryx creds to support family members who remained behind. Our most likely scenario will see the Human Empire expand over the next century to include Earth and all of the retirees from contract work, so by the time the Thousand Cycle period is up, we’ll probably have excess monetary reserves.”
“Yes?” Aabina said, pointing at the mayor of Floaters who had his hand raised.
“This is all way above my pay grade,” Bob said. “I deal in financing for floaters, not trillion cred military build-ups and the balance of trade between civilizations. What we all want to know is if we accept this empire thing, what kind of cost are we looking at for the next fifty years?”
“Very far-sighted for a Human,” the Verlock muttered to Kelly.
“The Thousand Cycle option is a process, not a switch that gets flipped,” Aabina reassured the audience. “With the help of an alien mentor, the startup team will begin laying the groundwork for an empire, but we’re talking about building institutional knowledge, not fleets and buildings. For the next fifty years, the investment required will likely come to little more than payroll, travel costs, and office space for the staff to do their work.”
“Will EarthCent pay for it?” another member of the audience asked bluntly.
“Ambassador?” Aabina inquired.
“Just a moment,” Kelly said, and subvoced, “Libby? Will the Stryx object to my using some cookbook money for this?”
“I think it would be a wise investment,” the Stryx librarian replied.
“It sounds like we’ll be able to foot the bill,” the EarthCent ambassador continued out loud, “but my gut tells me it would be better to have some sort of cost-sharing arrangement with the sovereign human communities from the beginning, even if the amount is purely symbolic.”
“I think we’ve covered all the questions, so we’ll be expecting your decision soon,” Aabina announced hastily, as some late-arriving alien observers stumbled out from one of the tunnels under the stadium seating. “And I won’t name any names, but whoever held their last meeting in the red light district and charged their tips for dancers to the embassy, please don’t do it again.”
Fifteen
“Maybe we should have rented extra space for the unveiling,” Flazint said nervously, as the aisle on their side of the SBJ Fashions booth was beginning to jam up with women waiting for the big event. “Our neighbors are going to get angry about their booths being blocked.”
“You’ve been to tradeshows before,” Dorothy said. “Somebody is always going to have the popular booth, and right now it’s us. Besides, the first three days of the show were slow for our side of the booth while Baa and Stick have been cleaning up out back. Have you checked on them recently?” she asked, gesturing at the curtain that separated their half of the booth from the half facing on the next aisle, where they were selling Baa’s Bags and remedial dancing aids for men.
“You should have seen Baa’s face when Stick wanted her to join him for the Shadow Dancer demonstrations,” the Frunge girl said, breaking into a broad grin at the memory. “I thought she was going to turn him into an amphibian.”
“Maybe she doesn’t know how to dance,” Dorothy said. “Baa would never admit to something like that.”
“I still think we should have rented a side room. The people who are just arriving won’t be able to see anything.”
“I intentionally segmented our contact list into four equal parts so we’d get a good showing at the follow-up demonstrations this afternoon and tomorrow,” Dorothy said. “Somebody must have blabbed to the Grenouthians because they have three cameras floating out there. I wasn’t going to notify them until after we had the presentation down pat.”
“I hope everything works,” Lancelot spoke up. “I’ve never done anything like this before, and you only gave me one day to prepare. We don’t have a retailing tradition on the Gem homeworld.”
“The guys across the aisle from us recruiting mail-order-brides for asteroid miners just folded up one of their tables to let women stand inside their booth,” the EarthCent ambassador’s daughter reported. “We should be charging them commission for bringing in potential clients.”
“You asked me to tell you when it’s time to start,” the station librarian informed Dorothy over her implant.
The EarthCent ambassador’s daughter stepped up onto the box she was using in lieu of a stage and waited for the audience to stop talking. She smiled and waved to the women she recognized, and self-consciously noted the location of the closest floating immersive camera before beginning.
“Let�
��s all be honest with ourselves,” Dorothy said. “How many times have you bought a new outfit for a job interview or a date and worn it just once or twice before it disappeared into the back of your closet? Show of hands, please.”
A few women in the audience raised a tentative hand, then a larger group, and in the end, almost two-thirds had their hands elevated.
“That’s right,” she continued, and brandished a tab that wasn’t even turned on. “I have research here showing that clothes bought for special occasions are worn just three times on average. Think about the thousands of creds you’ll waste over your lifetime.”
“SBJ Fashions is one of the most expensive brands on the station,” a woman in the front of the group pointed out.
“I’d like to believe that my designs never end up in the back of anybody’s closet, and this market research doesn’t apply to ball gowns or shoes, which are clearly an investment,” Dorothy said. “But I wouldn’t have brought the numbers up at all if I didn’t have a solution, and that solution is FaaS.”
“Fast?” somebody asked.
“F – a – a – S. Fashion as a Service.”
“Is that what this is about? You want to rent us clothes? This presentation was supposed to be about something new under the sun.”
“FaaS is a technology breakthrough made possible by our exclusive arrangement with the Gem, not some circular exchange that delivers poorly fitting dresses with mystery stains,” Dorothy retorted. “Allow me to demonstrate. Lance?”
Myst’s betrothed stepped forward to the clothing dummy that was sporting a black tube dress and touched the back with his programming device. The dress instantly turned fire-engine red, and the audience let out a collective, “Oooh.”
“That’s just the start of it,” Dorothy told them. “The Gem nanofabric that makes FaaS possible is fully programmable, and unlike some previous attempts at chameleon clothing, it’s protected by military-level encryption. Lance?”
