The Great Symmetry (27 page)

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Authors: James R Wells

Tags: #James R. Wells, #future space fiction, #Science Fiction

BOOK: The Great Symmetry
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The version seen by over ninety nine percent of viewers was sanitized, but the damage had been done. Recordings of Sanzite’s remark, with the chant in the background, still surfaced from time to time.

It went without saying that all broadcasts from that moment on were recorded, edited, and verified before they were released. With a bit of planning, live broadcasts were easy to prepare a few hours in advance, adjusting the lighting, clothes, and even putting in references to likely events around the scheduled time of the live release.

On Kelter, Governor Rezar was going without a script, not only as he addressed the public, but in all of his actions. Was this how it went when an entire government panicked?

From the example of Kelter, Sanzite now feared for all of civilization. When this epidemic spread to all of the other star systems and planets, how many governments would fall? How many families?

Lobeck had withdrawn all of his forces from the surface, but gave no sign of abandoning the blockade. Even with his privileged feed, Sanzite could not tell what Lobeck was up to.

Should he intervene?

If Sanzite had a clear idea of what to do, then he would not hesitate. He would take control. But that was not the case.

Lobeck had been with Affirmatix, and with Sanzite, for decades. Lobeck was resourceful. And he had no reservations about doing what had to be done.

Sanzite decided that he would leave the matter to Lobeck. For now.

Evacuation

Lobeck did not appear to be angry. He planned carefully, and drew up new orders, then saw each one executed to completion. The surface teams on Kelter were all being recalled. There was no point in any further surface operations, he had said, since the formerly secret information was now known across the entire planet.

A big focus seemed to be on the evacuation of key Affirmatix personnel from all over the planet, not just the recently deployed teams. ”For their safety,” Lobeck told the group in the resource room. He looked through lists of people, identifying those who would be ordered to lift from the surface. Yes, No, No, No, Yes, No. Shuttles were chartered and scheduled.

Lobeck set a deadline. Twenty-four hours. “After that, we will lift the blockade and mobilize out of system,” he said. “It will no longer be necessary.”

He even brushed aside the latest tactical reports. The locations of McElroy and his associates were no longer of interest. “It was never about them, just containment of the information. They do not matter.”

Sonia could hang on for one more day, plus the transit time back to Alcyone. She still ran her models, updated for the latest circumstance, but it was more out of habit, and to keep her occupied, than because she or anyone cared.

The model results were very, very bad for her sponsor. When the blockade was lifted, the word of the discovery would spread like wildfire. People everywhere would be heading off to explore the new systems and their planets. Affirmatix had some prospects of enforcing royalties on the glome transits, but it almost didn’t matter. The real riches were in claims, to new territories, and Affirmatix would now be unable to stay ahead of the rush to stake those claims. With its reputation in tatters due to the blockade and the nuclear strike, Affirmatix would suffer badly in the court of public opinion and would massively lose market share.

Lobeck did not even ask her about the models. She saved each one in the accustomed place in the file system, where he could review it if he wished. No questions, no challenges, as she usually received. She had no idea if he was reviewing them.

The Marcom team, Elise and Merlin and their cloud of assistants, had largely vanished. New assignments, for media outreach and brand enhancement in the new circumstance. Sonia only saw Elise coming or going from the gym, where she regularly joined Lobeck for a workout.

Sonia decided that she had done well. She had saved lives, many thousands of them. Even with the current poor prospects for her employer, she had helped to avert decisions that would have made things even worse.

She had done well. That was her story, and she was sticking to it.

Delusional Optimism

Rezar had found his father, in the garden of course. The former governor knelt at one of the beds, carefully looking at each plant. Weeding, pruning, or just briefly touching.

Rezar dreaded this, but he was determined to do what needed to be done. To ask his father for help.

“Father, you know of the recent events,”
Rezar opened.

“I do,” his father said, continuing his systematic sweep of the ground in front of him. “I have been keeping up.”

“Are you getting the priority briefing as well?”

“Yes, son, I am.”

“So you know about the D6 weapon. It is moving into position. There is no mistaking the formation. An icosahedron, centered upon our planet.”

“I know.” His father seemed unperturbed.
He was using a tiny hand rake to even out the soil in an open spot. Why did he not leave this work to the staff that was paid to do it?

“The D6 will destroy every living thing on Kelter. We cannot stop it.” Rezar took a deep breath. “Father, what shall I do?”

Now, it would come. The lecture. Hubris, to run for governor at such an age. Automatically elected because of his pedigree, but without the skills or knowledge to actually act as governor. A governor in name, he had been treated like a child. Because he was one.

Rezar prepared himself.

His father got up from the flower bed and turned to him. “Theodore. My son. I am so proud of you.”

“Father, we will be destroyed! Because of what I did.”

“Perhaps. But you did what you saw to be right. And it was right. You had the vision. Conviction, to best serve our people. Actually serve them, not somebody else’s notion of what would be good for them.”

“I thought it was the right thing to do,” Rezar told his father. “The counterterrorist action was going down in flames. I believed that if we persisted in trying to suppress the story, the foundation of our government would crack, because people would know to disbelieve us on all things.”

“And you have won something important. Trust. Your speech
today, tell me something. Did you have a script?”

“Just a few notes,” Rezar answered. “I felt awkward. I stumbled. I’ve looked at the replays, it’s just horrible.”

“It was the best address I have heard in my life. You spoke as a person who made a difficult decision. You explained why you did it. You treated our citizens as adults.”

Rezar knew what it was to be talked down to, even at forty-two years of age.

“Just one thing,” the former governor continued. “You looked a little pale, and shiny. Were you okay?”

“Screw the makeup. I hate the makeup. I didn’t wear any.”

“You might still do that. There is nothing wrong with looking good,” his father advised.

Rezar realized that with the fate of Kelter at stake, he was receiving grooming tips from his father. Maybe it had been a mistake seeking him out. “Father, do you think you’re drifting a little? You know, the planet? The D6? Will you help me?”

Rezar’s father poured some coffee from his thermos into a mug and took a careful sip. “I am not sure I can. For my years at the helm, I administered. I accepted what was given to me. You, if only for one day so far, have governed. You have moved outside of the thought box that confined me for thirty-six years in office.”

Rezar was on the edge of despair. “I may only get another day. Are you leaving me to sink or swim on my own?”

“No, I will stay with you if you ask. Just do not forget – you are now the governor. If that is agreed, I will help as I can. Yes?”

“I will be. I am. The governor. Thank you, father.”

“Right now, I can think of two things. I’ll give you some advice, and then I will suggest you meet with someone who can help you better than I can. First, the advice. It is about delusional optimism.” Rezar’s father stopped and appeared to be waiting for Rezar to put it together.

“I know, I must have had too much of that. Thinking I could solve our problems so simply.”

“Quite the opposite. You must cultivate it. If you look at the probabilities, as the analysts serve them up to you, and you see massive black clouds of the worst outcomes that are also the most likely, then you must focus on the result that you need, no matter how improbable. If there is an outcome that has a one percent chance of success, but it is the only one that saves us, then you must follow that course. Nurture it until it reaches two percent, and then three percent. At that point, throw the analysts out of the room, because you have already proven them wrong.”

Rezar understood. “You mean that it could have been three percent all the time. But that’s still a long way from likely.”

“Delusional optimism is what allowed us to settle this forsaken ball of dust. It is in our blood. You have started to find it. Do not deny it.”

“I guess it’s kind of like trying to reach the green on the eighth hole in two over the boulder field,” Rezar allowed.

“Something like that.”

Rezar asked, “And this person I should speak with?”

“You must invite a friend over for tea. Lapsang Suchong, his favorite. And he likes conversation. Perhaps he can help you. But ask him to wear clothes when he visits.”

“Who is it, father?”

“You know him as Axiom.”

The Buttonwood Tree

“It’s good to see you with something on,” Evan told Axiom.

The old man gave Evan a little smile. “Out here in the public square, clothes are a good idea. Don’t want to get sunburn, you know. Or get too cold. Besides, our new friends required it.
But I can still hope for good conversation.”

They each bought their water and took it to the tree. Evan had been provided some scrip and was learning how to use it.

Evan had two vials. One was for Mira. “So, what do I say?” he asked.

“The tradi
tional saying is this: Without fear, speak what is true. Without fear, live what is true.”

“Without fear, −” Evan started.

Axiom interrupted. “Stop!
It’s an instruction, not a formula. People always forget that. So speak what is true, and as long as you don’t rattle on too long, that will be just fine.”

“When you say ‘true’ …”

“What comes from your inner light, and from nowhere else. Truth,” Axiom instructed.

“Does it have to be profound?”

“Oh no. See all these people having lunch? If it had to be profound, they would all be very hungry by now.”

“Okay, here goes. I will tell her story. What she did for us.” He poured out his vial of water, and Mira’s, and then he looked up. “How was that?”

“Concise. I like that.”

Axiom and Kate poured out their vials of water in turn, each with a brief invocation, and then they sat for lunch.

Evan had filled a heaping plate of food. He wasn’t going to miss out on these goods.

Dozens of guards were stationed around the plaza. Evan could feel the device clamped around his ankle. There would be no disappearing this time. “So how did you arrange this?” Kate asked. “We were in these holding cells, and then suddenly we were whisked away. To here.”

“The governor asked me to visit,” Axiom replied. “I told him that I needed to eat first. With the two of you.”

“And he agreed? Just like that?”

Axiom looked pleased with himself. “It appears that he really wants to meet with me. After so many years of cowering from their cameras, on the day that I come out into the world, I have decided my own terms. So let’s enjoy it. This is the perfect place for a few quiet moments together. For conversation. Do you know how this plaza came to be here, around the tree? I’ll tell you a lunch story if you like.”

“I sure want to know,” Evan told him. “The tree is just awesome. I can’t believe that I’ve never been here, before Mira brought me.”

“You will not find this story on any channel in the Spoon Feed,” Axiom began. “When people came to Kelter, there were no living things. No water. It was thought that water would have to be brought in from comets, and it might not be worth the effort to even live on this planet, until deep drilling found the aquifers way down there, salty as they were.

“But thousands of years ago, there was water on the surface of Kelter, and there were plants. The settlers found these large nuts. Tried to eat them, but they were too tough. Somebody planted one and spent precious water on it. The nut germinated and the tree started to grow. The water was all it had been waiting for. There are several of these trees on Kelter, but this is the first, and the largest.

“They transplanted it on to solid ground, safely away from Abilene. People were worried about contamination from alien plants like the tree. Most of the original settlers were with FirstStar, and so the tree became a kind of emblem. You can still see it in all their advertisements, that green shape that’s always in the lower left. They had the exclusive charter allowing the only vehicles near the alien tree, so they would take people on tours to the site. Pretty tasteful, just a few billboards, and no annoying audio. And you could go there and appreciate the tree. We would have events. Concerts. It was a special place.

“But things changed over time. Pretty soon you could only get FirstStar channels on the bus to the site. Infomentaries. To go there, you had to pay, and agree to their terms of use. More and more terms they added, so you didn’t even know what you were agreeing to. Give them your first born child, maybe. All this, to be with the tree that we had come to love.

“Then a group of friends realized something. You could walk there. Five kilometers, across the flats. It was just the tree out in the desert, what was going to stop you? No rule said you couldn’t. So we did it. The next day we did it again, with a few more friends. Every day, more. Twenty people. Soon it was a hundred, and then two hundred.

“Such fury. How dare we do this? First they put up a fence around the tree, with a gate where you had to pay, with your card, to go through. And agree to the terms. But the gate kept malfunctioning. Jamming open. The scanner software would not run the cards, not for anybody. They couldn’t figure out why. So FirstStar said no visitors, until they could repair it, and make us pay.

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