” Alex continued to listen to Gino’s message and several others. More Leaders were interested in doing business with his people than he would have suspected, especially after Leader Ganesh’s cold reception in Council Chambers.
We better be successful, Mickey, Alex thought, or we’re going to disappoint a lot of people.
-33-
The passage to Hellébore was fraught with intrigue, and Alex was both the target of the intrigue and the one most ignorant of the collusion.
While Alex focused on their new world’s material infrastructure—fabrication facilities, housing, and an economic base—the people of the flotilla were discussing their new society. The Librans were anxious to choose a new name for their colony. No one wanted to build on the ashes of the old name, and they wished to honor the Admiral by asking him to choose. Unfortunately the direct approach failed. Requesting that Renée inform the Admiral of the people’s will resulted in Alex deferring the choice back to the people’s will. However, the people were adamant the Admiral choose the name. To break the impasse, Renée consulted the flotilla’s “devious one.”
The following morning as Renée and Alex enjoyed the refresher together, she informed him that the people had followed his request and settled on two choices for their colony’s new name.
“What are their choices?” Alex asked, happy that the decision had been taken off his shoulders.
“They are considering Alexandria and Racine,” Renée answered, working with difficulty to keep a straight face. “The people would like to know which one you prefer.”
Alex groaned in exasperation. The harder I wiggle, the deeper I sink, he thought. He proclaimed to Renée that he needed time to think—in order to stall the decision—but as Alex soon sat at his desk, considering the two names, one face and one voice came to mind. The Librans loved their elders and mourned the loss of the twenty-two hundred they were forced to leave behind.
“Wait,” Alex called to Renée, who was exiting the cabin. “We’ll call our new home Haraken.”
“I will inform the people that the Admiral has an alternative name. I’m sure they will graciously accept. Personally, my love, I rather liked Alexandria,” Renée replied and blew Alex a kiss. She strolled down the corridor, a broad smile on her face. The first person she commed was Senior Captain Tachenko, the architect of the subterfuge. <It was as you thought, Commander,> Renée sent. <Faced with two unacceptable choices, he suddenly discovered a third.>
The people were delighted with the Admiral’s choice. They were no longer Méridiens or New Terrans. They were Harakens.
* * *
The next question the people sought to resolve was what form of society they would create. Here, they consulted the one person who knew both worlds, their Co-Leader, Ser de Guirnon.
Renée offered the people this advice: <I believe each culture has substance to offer us. We exist today because of the generosity of a New Terran President and his Assembly. We might honor them by patterning our government after theirs, electing members from our society, and foregoing being ruled by a Council whose members are born to position. However, I have seen that uninhibited independence creates the potential for people to embrace the dark side of their nature without others being aware of their perversions. I believe this can be avoided by requiring all Haraken residents acquire an implant after the age of consent. Visitors could be excused for a period of time, but that period must be cumulative, so that they may not leave and return, each time staying less than the law required. And in this regard, implants would apply only to humans, in case the Admiral collects other abandoned intelligences to add to our world.>
Later, Tomas took a shuttle to visit Renée aboard the Rêveur and deliver the glad tidings that consensus had been reached. The people favored an elected government of an Assembly and President, and they chose Alex as the first President of Haraken. Tomas was surprised that Renée did not appear to welcome the news as he had expected.
“My apologies, Director Monti, that I do not show an appropriate appreciation for your announcement,” Renée replied. “Now I must consider the manner in which I will inform the Admiral of the ill news.”
As Tomas watched Renée walk away, he sympathized with her. If Ser considered the consensus to be bad tidings, he would not want to be the one delivering it to the Admiral.
Renée chose to wait until after evening meal once she and Alex were alone in their cabin. She took the added step of inviting him into the refresher, seating him on the shallow bench, and wiping him down with a cloth, massaging his tight muscles. She kept working until Alex closed his eyes, relaxing into her ministrations.
Later, when they were nestled together on the lounge, Renée broached the subject. “Alex, a consensus has been reached,” she said quietly.
“I didn’t know a question had been asked,” Alex replied, stroking Renée’s hair.
“The people have chosen to accept the concept of an elected Assembly and President,” Renée announced.
“I’m pleased,” Alex replied. “It must have been difficult for the Librans to forgo their society. Then again, I suppose their society did that to them first. We’ll need to hold nominations and have the people elect a President.”
Renée sat up beside Alex and studied the far wall rather than look Alex in the eye. “The people have already considered this and reached a consensus.”
Alex gently pulled Renée’s chin toward him. Her eyes were sympathetic. Then Alex intuited Renée’s unstated message. He stood up in agitation and began pacing back and forth. “No, no, no,” he kept repeating.
Renée stepped in front of Alex to stop his pacing, “I’m sorry, President Racine,” she said and threw her arms around Alex’s neck in a fierce embrace. “There is one very bright note in this, Alex,” she whispered into his ear.
The thought briefly occurred to Alex that Cordelia could never match Renée’s whisper. “What would that be?” he asked dejectedly.
Wearing a sheer wrap, Renée languidly pressed the full length of her body against him and said, “I understand I may be called the ‘First Lady.’ Is this not even better than ‘House Co-Leader’?”
Alex couldn’t think of a thing to say in reply.
Renée nuzzled Alex’s neck, murmuring again in his ear, “What is the next level above First Lady?”
When Alex jerked away from her, his eyes narrowing, she squealed and raced for their sleeping quarters with Alex hot on her heels.
* * *
In the early morning, Alex rose, donned a robe, and crept into the salon while Renée slept on. Drawing a cup of thé, he sat down at his desk, grateful for the brewer Renée had installed in the cabin. When he had asked her why a meal dispenser couldn’t be added, Renée had quipped that she would not dare deprive the people of the pleasure of watching their Admiral eat.
Alex wasn’t laughing at the memory. Instead he was feeling guilty. Last night, with the people’s decision still vexing him, he’d linked their implants as they made love. Renée had happily cooperated, feeding back her emotions and desires. The intimate twining of their implants had created a powerful synergy through which Alex vented his frustration.
Sipping his hot thé, Alex’s thoughts dwelt on his new position. By nature, he was a pragmatic man. As President, he couldn’t be the Admiral, but his people would still require a military leader. Looks like I won’t be the only one booted upstairs, Alex thought and smiled to himself for the first time since waking. He considered his next steps, which would include forming an Assembly and drafting a constitution. The latter subject would mean defining the President’s term of office. Alex decided to look on the bright side. One term ... just one term. I can do this, he thought.
Alex was drawing a second cup of thé when he heard Renée rise and head to the refresher. She was humming, and not softly. Apparently I’m the only one feeling guilty this morning, Alex thought, a wry smile twisting his lips. From his archives, Alex pulled up the list of initial actions he had prepared for their world’
s first leader. The irony that the list now belonged to him did not escape his notice. He reached out to Tatia.
<Congratulations, Mr. President,> Tatia replied.
Since Tatia’s remark was tongue in cheek, Alex chose to reciprocate, sending, <Thank you kindly, Admiral Tachenko.>
Tatia’s response was slow in coming, and Alex experienced a small thrill at being able to share the frustration.
<I suppose that’s only fair, Mr. President,> Tatia finally replied.
<It appears both of us need to order a change of wardrobe from Geneviève,> Alex sent.
After his comm with Tatia, Alex contacted Tomas and Eric. <Sers, I’m temporarily assigning the two of you dual responsibilities while we transition from House Alexander to the government of Haraken.>
<We are excited to work with you, Ser President, in this endeavor,> Tomas said.
<Directors, we must continue to have a standing military,> Alex said. <This will include fabricating fighters and a fighter training school. In addition, we will need explorer ships to enable our people to discover new worlds.>
<After the events of the past century, Admiral—your pardon, President Racine,> Eric replied, <no one will doubt the need to employ force to protect our people.>
<We must elect or appoint our first Assembly members,> Alex continued. <Considering the Librans’ preference for consensus, I’ll leave it to you two to generate the means by which we obtain our first Assembly members. They should represent the span of our people, including our pioneers. They will be responsible for creating Haraken’s constitution, which I will insist include the rights of SADEs and any other intelligent species that may inhabit our worlds. Let it be known that each and every SADE in this flotilla is, as of this moment, a full citizen of Haraken.>
<Lastly, Directors, we must create a judicial system that fairly considers all citizens and visitors,> Alex continued. <Recognize that our actions have established ourselves as a refuge for the independent-minded. We can expect immigrants from the Confederation, New Terra, and beyond. A fair judicial system will be required to protect our people and prosecute the individuals—citizens and outsiders—who break our laws.>
Silence greeted Alex’s statements. His Directors hadn’t yet considered the extent of the challenges they faced in creating a new society.
<First things first, Tomas and Eric,> Alex sent gently. <I need our Assembly Representatives before we reach Hellébore space.>
* * *
<Julien, I need you, Cordelia, and Z,> Alex sent, sitting with his feet propped up on the desktop.
<Ready, President Racine,> Julien replied.
Alex took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Each elevation of title had taken him further and further away from his comfort zone. The only thing that kept him going was that good people depended on him, and he needed to ensure their well-being and security before he relinquished his responsibilities.
<Good morning,> Alex sent. <I have a new enterprise for the three of you.>
<We will help in any manner we can, Ser President,> Cordelia replied.
<You three will form the Central Exchange of Haraken,> Alex sent. <It will be an independent bank, and you will charge nominal fees for managing deposits and loan accounts. I can’t think of more fair-minded individuals than our SADEs to manage our society’s new credit institution.>
<Thank you for the compliment, Mr. President,> Julien returned formally. <Who will receive the fees we collect?>
<The fees accrue in the bank’s operational accounts, and after operating expenses are deducted, the profit goes to the bank’s Directors,> Alex replied.
<And, Ser President, who will be the Directors?> Cordelia asked.
<Why, Cordelia, you’re the Directors,> Alex replied.
<A wonderful idea, Ser President!> Z sent. <Might I ask the potential of this income?>
<That will depend on several things, Z,> Alex said. <In the beginning, it will be moderate but will grow quickly once we deliver our first traveler shuttles. The Haraken government and the companies fabricating the crafts will become key depositors. Eventually our pioneers may transfer their assets to your bank.>
Z could scarcely contain himself at the thought of having the funds to direct his own mobility research. His comm burst to Julien and Cordelia outlined a myriad of potential uses of personal income. Driven by Z’s excitement, Julien and Cordelia began to have their own thoughts. Cordelia anticipated practicing her art in facilities that would be visited by the public. Julien was entertaining the notion of both he and Cordelia occupying human forms. New algorithms originated in all three SADEs at lightning speed, postulating alternate futures.
<Are you three agreed?> Alex asked when no one had answered him.
A chorus of enthusiastic responses hit his implant at once.
<Ser President, how does a bank work?> Z asked.
<Julien has done some extensive research on New Terran financial systems,> Alex explained, keeping his thoughts as neutral as possible. Cordelia and Z had focused on readers and relationships, defined by comms, when they assisted Julien at New Terra. Only Julien, in both cases, had tracked the transfers of funds through the financial institutions.
While Alex spoke, Julien was transferring his research at maximum rates, and Cordelia and Z accepted the data without security restrictions—such were the triumvirate’s bonds, forged through their efforts to survive the incursion of the Nua’ll into the Arnos system.
<Quite right, Z,> Alex replied. <I would be both the bank’s initial investor and depositor. You will transfer the credits from my New Terran accounts into your bank.>
<Pardon, President Racine, how will our bank value a Haraken credit or, for that matter, exchange with New Terran credits?> Julien asked.
<Julien,> Alex replied, <for the former, I have no idea. For the latter, I would suggest, as Directors of the Central Exchange of Haraken, that you contact President Gonzalez to begin negotiations with her Finance Minister on the subject.>
<But, Ser President,> Z said, his preliminary study finding a fundamental flaw in the logic, <why should the New Terran government assign any value to a foreign colony’s credits, especially a colony that has yet to be started?>
<Good point, Z,> Alex replied. <They wouldn’t unless they thought it was in their interest.>
<President Gonzalez and some of her Ministers are quite keen to acquire our gravity-driven shuttles and perhaps the technology itself,> Julien replied.
<But, President Racine, we have not proven that we will be able to replicate a gravity drive or a Swei Swee shell,> Cordelia said.
<My fellow SADEs,> Julien sent, <I believe the concept is referred to as “investing.”>
<Precisely, Julien,> Alex replied. <First, Cordelia, you’ll paint an image of our future to your New Terran financial counterparts. Our successful replication of a traveler shuttle will be the kernel of your enticement. Using our future technology products, especially our gravity-driven ships, you’ll bargain for New Terra’s valuation of Haraken credits.>
Cordelia remained unconvinced. <Ser President, it appears we’re trading on a future that may not develop. Is this not an inaccuracy … a deception?>
Alex was trying to puzzle a way to introduce his Méridien-trained SADEs to the concepts of fair-market speculation without disrupting their ingrained focus on accuracy. Their algorithms operated best
with facts not suppositions. <Cordelia, in a world of capitalism, it’s called “risk versus reward.”>
<But where is the risk for the New Terrans, Ser President?> Cordelia asked. <They may simply devalue our Haraken credits when we fail in our endeavors.>
<There is that possibility,> Alex replied. <That’s the risk.>
Z asked, <President Racine, would not this risk entail the loss of your investment if we are unsuccessful and New Terra devalues our credits?>
<Yes,> Alex said, <but that would be the least of our worries, Z. Without a technologically based trade edge, our colony will take many decades to start and will be on a much more humble scale.>
Cordelia reviewed her ethics programming, which was limiting her ability to embrace Alex’s concepts. She made some subtle changes to several programs. <I believe I understand, Ser President,> Cordelia sent. <I have read of this in one of Julien’s ancient novels. We seek to be prosperous, and we will be urging the New Terrans to “bet” on our skills.>
Cordelia’s excitement over her understanding of the concept was infectious, and soon the SADEs were heavily entwined on scenario planning. Deep in their cores, hierarchal steps were reordered at the kernel level. From top to bottom, these steps became—self-preservation, safety of their people, the President’s well-being and support, fabrication of the traveler shuttles, New Terran investment, development of their Exchange, Directors’ income, mobility research, and finally … true freedom.
<One more point, Sers,> Alex added. <Every SADE in the flotilla must be invited to join you in this venture. All SADEs that choose to participate will share equally in the Exchange.>
It took only ticks of time for the liner and freighter SADEs to realize the value of the opportunity. Each of those SADEs had harbored thoughts of independence and never dared express them.