11
Devolution
“God, no one will talk about anything else!” exclaimed Clara, a bit exasperated. “Three sols. Here it is Wednesol, and Marsian politics still dominates every conversation!”
“And we’re even relatively isolated,” added Helmut. “The Ceres crew eats breakfast and supper together. But the lunches between seminar meetings at Martech inevitably will be about politics; how couldn’t they be, dear!”
“We’re still residents here; or maybe I should even say citizens,” echoed Zach Hersey, sitting across the dinner table from Helmut. “And the Commission report put issues on the table that no one had dared even to whisper speculations about before.”
“Devolution,” added Thierry Colmar, whispering the word loudly. “Maybe it is time the Marsians made more decisions themselves; there are now over 600 of us, after all. I think it’s a persuasive argument that elected institutions have more of a stake in safety than the Commission, which has to worry about growth and expenditures as well.”
“I don’t know,” replied Jack Alberghini. “Obviously, one does not want one agency in charge of safety and other matters, like expansion, but the safety agency can be an independent agency located anywhere; within the Commission, under the Commonwealth, or whatever.”
“I get the impression a lot of the newly arrived people are wary about devolution,” said Helmut to Jack.
“Yes, I think it’s true. We all arrived here very enthusiastic about Mars, but the economic reality of the place has hit some people pretty hard. My finances are now in pretty good shape; I’m single and the Ceres Project comes with a pretty hefty salary. But I have married friends who are thinking of postponing children or having fewer children because of the costs of this place. A condo is outrageously expensive; 30,000 redbacks per square meter, before interest, property taxes, insurance, utilities, and condo fee! Most single people have ‘flats’ about the size of their bedroom when they were teenagers. Food costs almost 100,000 redbacks per year. I was spending 80,000 redbacks per year on purchases from the stores, and I wasn’t buying practically anything! And all the costs and fees keep going up! People who have been here a decade have over twice the income we have.”
“Part of the problem is the increase in consumer goods,” replied Thierry, trying to sound sympathetic. “Zach and I have been here since 2029; we arrived on Columbus 5. In those sols there was nothing to buy, so you saved most of your salary in banks on Earth or invested it. We had fifty square meters per person for housing and work space rather than one hundred before Yalta Biome was finished, and it was much less pleasant. Furniture was imported from Earth or was rather crude. But now we can buy a condo, and that puts our money into the Marsian economy rather than the terrestrial economy. And we now make a thousand crucial consumer items here, several thousand if you include construction-related items like toilets and door knobs. If Zach and I had had so many things to buy back in 2029, we would have saved a lot less.”
“And by now, we’ve furnished our condo, so we have more surplus,” added Zach.
“Yeah, but I bet your salary after taxes and fees was more.”
“Not much more.”
“I bet it was fifty percent more! And how big was the condo you guys first bought? I bet it was bigger, too.”
“Yes, but we didn’t have the clever furniture you have, where a loft double bed comes with a closet and desk underneath it.” Zach tried not to sound defensive.
“Clever’s one word; cramped is another. My bathroom has a cabinet over the toilet and I have to make sure I don’t bang my head when I stand up.” Jack sounded disgusted. “But regardless of the cause, the new arrivals feel a lot more economic distress,” he added, more conciliatory. “We fear that devolution will just squeeze salaries more and we can’t afford that.”
“That’s understandable,” agreed Helmut. “Clara and I have been amazed how fast our money has disappeared.”
“The rumor I’ve heard is that the Commission will continue paying for things even if responsibility were devolved to the Commonwealth Authority,” exclaimed Thierry. “And I don’t see why that couldn’t happen. The Commission’s role in settling Mars needs to be reconceived. Rather than having it run everything, it has to become an enabler and financer of the settlement effort. But let the settlements run themselves as much as possible.”
“I agree,” said Helmut. “Who says a few hundred people can’t run their own affairs via an elected government, when they already are running their own affairs via the Commission.”
“Well, we really aren’t running our own affairs because there are several thousand people on Earth helping,” pointed out Jack.
“So? They can continue to help,” replied Zach. “It’s called outsourcing.”
“If they can be paid, and it isn’t clear terrestrial governments will subsidize Marsian government the same way they’ll subsidize the Commission,” said Jack. “That’s the rub.”
“And I don’t know how we’ll finesse that problem,” added Helmut. “Because what I hear on Mars This Sol indicates that the U.S. and Europe, at least, are opposed to greater freedom up here.”
“Ironic, isn’t it?” said Zach, shaking his head.
------------------------------------
Will made his way across Catalina and Yalta Biomes, heading from the Mars Commission offices to Silvio’s store. The shelves were looking a bit sparse—over a year had passed since the arrival of the last supplies, and less than a year remained before the arrival of the first new ones—consequently much of what was left was Mars-made. Will walked to the food area, one of the better stocked sections, the shelves loaded with jars of preserves, bags of tea, containers of coffee and sugar, and a snack section with locally made chocolate bars. The quality of the chocolate was better than many had expected, but it was achieved by including small quantities of high-quality chocolate from Earth. He grabbed a 25-gram “Shalbatana” bar—a mere 10 redbacks—and walked to the unattended checkout area, where he scanned it and swiped his credit card.
He was about to look for Silvio when the Rev. Tuesday Nah entered. Will turned to him. “Good sol, Tuesday.”
“Good afternoon, Will. How are you this sol?”
“Pretty good, but I had to get out of the office and walk around a bit; it helps me solve problems. And I just bought one of the chocolate bars your wife makes.”
He smiled. “They’re good, aren’t they? She cooks up a big kettleful almost every month, now. And only ten redbacks; that’s what, one quarter of the old price?”
“About that. I like the wrapper; very pretty. Is the design by Madhu?”
“No; my daughter! But everyone thinks it’s Madhu’s.”
Will chuckled. “I didn’t know. That’s two major contributions by your family to Mars. I love my chocolate. The consumer goods your church members are making, and the ones the Mormons are making, have increased our consumer economy by fifty million redbacks per year. It’s really amazing.”
“I just wish we were getting more of that fifty million! Actually, though, we aren’t doing badly.”
“I’m glad. And the building you all are planning for Andalus Dome is pretty ambitious; housing, manufacturing space, and a church space to boot.”
“All made to look like a big church; it’ll give us a presence, you might say.” Nah smiled, obviously proud.
“I congratulate you for that. And congratulations on the grandson! You’re the first Martian grandfather.”
“Oh, thank you very much. I’m here to find him another present; something from Earth, that is! Silvio needs to buy more baby presents because we have several children on the way. It’s very good to see you, Commissioner. You must come to church again, or to our Wednesol evening Bible study with the evangelicals.”
“Thank you, I’d enjoy that. Ciao.”
“Ciao.” Will turned to the rear of the store where Silvio had his office. He walked back and found his friend reviewing a huge electronic paper spreadsheet on a table.
“Oh, Will, good afternoon. What’s new with you?”
“Not too much. Last minute changes to the cargo manifests are driving everyone crazy right now. The first automated cargo vehicles head here in three months.”
“I know; it’s amazing to think we’ll have cargo so early this columbiad. The price of fuel at Gateway has dropped so much, all sorts of transportation possibilities are now available.”
“Which is fortunate; the shuttles will have more time to haul everything down. Where’s Simeon? I was surprised no one was in the store.”
“He’s off for a few sols because of the baby.”
“Oh, that’s right! And I was just congratulating Tuesday.”
“I can’t afford a greeter all the time. Without one, I can offer lower prices than Deseret; people like that, too.”
“How’s the store been doing?”
“Pretty well. Sales are up sixty percent compared to two years ago. Of course, if Deseret hadn’t arrived and we had the consumer goods we now have, business probably would have tripled! They’re doing about the same volume of business as I, judging from their bank deposits at least. And my web sales are stronger, especially at Dawes. So it’s alright.” He pointed to the spreadsheet. “The bank is the problem right now. Our savings rate has been dropping because people are buying consumer goods and demand for loans has been going up because individuals and groups want to start businesses. That means the bank has to ask the mining companies to ‘deposit’ more in the bank, which means giving them a favorable interest rate and charging more interest on new loans. I’ve been checking the figures and there’s no alternative. I contacted the Commission’s budget office, too, to see if they can make some deposits.”
“They’re legally bound to maximize return on deposits. We should change that regulation to deposit more money here. Have you asked Muller about the problem?”
“Yes, and Muller Mining has deposited more money, but demand for loans keeps going up. The default rate may be a problem, too.”
“Some of the small businesses, I’m sure; business is not developing very fast up here.”
“And the Green World Community: I may have to start legal proceedings against them to make them pay. They seem to have tens of millions in U.S and Canadian banks. And I’m the local judge, so I can’t be involved; it makes everything complicated.”
“Speaking of complicated, I came here to get your advice,” said Will. “I need to figure out a way to implement the recommendation of the Accident Commission about devolving the authority of Governor on someone else and increasing the responsibility of the Commonwealth Authority. As you know, in the last few sols devolution has taken on a life of its own and everyone’s speculating about what to devolve and how. I don’t hear the speculations and ideas personally; almost no one will speak frankly in front of me. But Mars This Sol has carried quite a digest of them, and the blogs are public, so I’ve been pouring over them.”
“If people knew the boss himself was reading them, they probably wouldn’t be so frank.”
“Probably not, but how else am I to get ideas? I’m isolated by my position. Very few people have been uncomplimentary; most people are struggling to come up with ideas, and some have been pretty good. I think the problem of financing the Mars Authority is less serious than people think. It’s pretty easy to figure out how much money is needed; right now the median salary on Mars is 500,000 redbacks per year, and the average person requires 300 kilograms of imported equipment and other necessities per columbiad, which costs 500,000 redbacks total or about 250,000 per year. That includes medicines, fuel cells, mobilhabs, and anything else we need on the surface. Once the responsibility of the Commonwealth Authority is defined, we can calculate the staffing needed, from that the cost, and the Commonwealth can levy an individual and corporate income tax or an export tax to cover the costs. Since the corporate tax would be on gold exports, there’s a lot of money to capture.”
“But the companies will object on the grounds that they have a contract that fixes their costs on Mars, including taxes.”
“The contracts specify the Commission would lower its fees commensurately.”
“Can the Commission afford that?”
“We’re rearranging income and expenses, not adding to them. Look, we’re going to have to devolve responsibilities, expenses, and income to the Commonwealth Authority eventually. Right now the Commission’s income and expenses are pretty easy to divide up. Mars surface operations, and the cargo to support them cost about a billion redbacks per columbiad. Transportation of new people to Mars, complete with about two tonnes of stuff each new person needs here, costs about 4 billion redbacks. Terrestrial support operations and their 2,000 personnel cost about a billion redbacks. Research and development—grants to universities to support Mars surface research, research on better domes and life support systems, research on manufacturing techniques and use of silane, research on new aerobraking systems and improvements in the engines—have been sharply cut back and cost another 2.5 billion redbacks. Medical research and consulting costs one billion. Then there’s insurance, lawyer’s fees, depreciation, and assorted other fees that add another 1.5 billion. So the total’s eleven billion redbacks per columbiad. Exports of gold and other commodities earn us 3 billion; they used to earn 4.5 billion, but the value of gold has declined significantly. We receive about 2 billion from governments to cover transportation costs of their citizens to Mars. The rest is covered by government dues to the Commission, mostly from the US, Europe, Canada, Russia, China, and India. The export income far exceeds Mars surface expenses. The logical thing to do is devote a certain amount of Mars surface income to cover expenses here through Commission grants and various taxes.”
“That’s true,” said Silvio. “But there’s still the question of what responsibility to give the Authority.”
“Yes. I’d be in favor of turning over Martech, Mariner Hospital, the clinics in the various outposts, surface transportation, maintenance of trails and sunwing strips, environmental management safety, sale and taxation of land, and emergency management; that’s half of the personnel on Mars and probably a third of terrestrial support personnel as well. The Commission would keep responsibility for the spaceports, near-Mars transportation, planetary quarantine and customs, the Exploration Corps, interplanetary transportation, and most terrestrial research and development operations.”
“Of course, a lot of the items you mentioned could be privatized.”
“One step at a time. Martech could become a semi-private self-governing educational institution supported by a large land grant, an endowment, and taxes. Mariner Hospital could become something similar. Construction could be completely privatized. Interplanetary transportation has already been partially privatized. Near-Mars transportation could be, also. The Exploration Corps personnel could have all sorts of part time assignments as Martech faculty or as construction specialists to get their engineering certifications. Collectively, it’s a huge restructuring, and with the population about to grow to a thousand, the time has come. But the bigger issue is what sort of political restructuring should accompany all of this. I think the Commonwealth Authority needs to pass a home rule statue whereby large outposts would acquire an elected mayor and the right to tax. Ironically, Aram has this authority right now by special arrangement as a non-Commission facility but Aurorae doesn’t. The Commanders of the other outposts could be appointed by the Commission or even appointed by the Authority, or heck, they could be elected as well. And if Aram can have an elected mayor, and Aurorae as well, why can’t all of Mars have an elected executive?”
Silvio was startled. “That is radical.”
“Is it? As many people are saying, 1,000 people can be run military-style with appointed commanders or democratically with elected leaders, but either way, it’s the same thousand people handling their own affairs and the same money. Either way, we’re not talking about national independence; more like state or provincial authority at the higher level and local, civic authority at the lower level. The ultimate ‘national’ authority rests with the member states of the Commission and the decisions of their Board.”
“Do you think you can get them to go along with restructuring?”
“I don’t know. It has a lot to do with the shape or appearance of the restructuring. We have to convince the large corporations, the land owners, and the residents as well. There are a lot of constituencies.”
“True.” Silvio thought about the situation. “What sort of restructuring are you thinking about?”
“That’s why I wanted to talk to you; I’m not an expert on political structures. I’d favor a modification of the Fundamental Law to specify that the Lieutenant Governor was elected every columbiad and that he would serve as sol-to-sol executive of the Authority.”
Silvio shook his head. “That sounds funny. If the position has executive authority, the person is a Governor, a Secretary-General, a Prime Minister, a President, or even a Manager.”
“True. But we tried to elect a ‘First Minister’ ten years ago when the Fundamental Law was first proposed, and the idea was rejected by the U.S. and Russia.”
“The position does not have to be elected; the person could also be selected by the Commissioner and ratified by the legislative bodies. Many small towns on Earth elect a council of some sort and it hires a town manager. On a much larger scale many nations do virtually the same thing; the people elect members of Parliament, and the Parliament selects a Prime Minister.”
“Hum. Already the Mars Council chooses a secretary and the borough voters elect clerks. If the clerk is given all the authority of an outpost commander, we have the equivalent of a mayor without doing anything complicated. And if the Residents Council and Landowners Assembly were jointly given authority to do a bunch of things, they’d have to choose a clerk or an executive to do it all on their behalf.”
“And one wouldn’t even need to change the Fundamental Law,” added Silvio. “The change would be in custom and policy instead, but once established it would be hard to reverse.”
“And it’d be hard for the national representatives to object,” added Will. “If we rolled out the plan in the right sequence we could probably drag them along.”
“It sounds like you’re going to have a lot of persuading to do,” said Silvio.
“Yes, I think so.”
“I’ll call together an informal meeting of the Mars Council and discuss these ideas with them. We probably should hold some additional meetings together.”
“Agreed; confidential meetings.”
---------------------------------
For the next few sols, Will worked very quietly, starting with the Commission members to find out how hard they would push individually for some of the changes they had advocated. Brian Stark was the hardest to talk to, since he usually lived outside Aurorae at the New Hanford Station, twenty kilometers to the east. But three sols later he was at Aurorae for business. “We never thought devolution would be a recommendation,” he explained as he sat in Will’s office. “But as we deliberated about the situation that led to the accident, it became clear that someone had to speak up about the Mars Commission’s current structure, which was fine when Mars had a few dozen people but which has become unwieldy as the population grows. We never meant to question your capabilities, Will, or undermine your leadership, or criticize you; at least not beyond the legitimate criticism any leader must face when a major failure occurs on his watch.”
“I understand, and I took no offense. Indeed, I accept a measure of responsibility for the emergency. I tried, but in retrospect I could have done more. But what I want to know is whether you’ll talk to some of your friends in Washington about devolution. The Commission’s report is ambiguous; you call for a lot of changes and you specify that some involve the Mars Authority. If one takes the recommendations and the implications for devolution seriously, one needs to transfer money and executive authority to the Commonwealth’s bodies. How do you think your conservative friends in Washington will feel about this?”
“I. . .think it can be sold to them. The trick is to keep this from getting politicized. If the Republicans come out in favor, the Democrats will feel they have to oppose. Right now with divided government and severe partisanship in Washington, it’s hard to prevent politicization of the matter.”
“I know. But our friend Skip Carson has liberal friends, and so does Louisa Turner. Douglas Morgan, Harold Lassen, and Laura Stillwell have conservative friends. And I know a lot of people on both sides of the aisle. So we have a formidable team. Doug won’t do much for us because of his health, but everyone else will.”
“Yes, we probably can develop bipartisan support for this issue. I think Europe’s a bigger problem, though.”
“I’m assembling a European team of Pierre Messier, David Alaoui, and Krister Soderblom. Pavel Rudenkov and the folks at the Institute for Mars Construction are working on Russian government officials. We’ll get support of long-time residents here to work on the Chinese, Japanese, Brazilian, and Indian governments.”
“So, what’s the message?”
“We want to take the Accident Commission’s recommendations seriously. That means giving the Commonwealth Authority responsibility for environmental management safety, certifications, surface and air transportation, emergency management, and land sales. They already have authority over health and higher education, can tax, and have set up thousands of laws regulating all sorts of things here. The Commissioner will nominate a Chief Minister who will be the Authority’s executive, to be ratified by the Mars Council and Mars Assembly. The Commission will transfer terrestrial personnel to the Authority as needed to carry out its broader responsibilities and will provide a subsidy until such time that taxation can cover the additional expenditures.”
Brian turned to his attaché and looked at the list that his machine had transcribed onto the screen. “That looks pretty complete to me. It even includes a few things we didn’t recommend, not that we’d be opposed.”
“Well, land sales has to be done in consultation with the Assembly of Landowners anyway, since it effects property value, and we’ve already consulted with the Mars Council over issues like natural parks and preserving, versus developing, geothermal areas. We might as well include it. Planetary quarantine is linked to environmental management safety, and customs is linked to quarantine. What we allow or restrict really should be decided by elected representatives anyway, not by the Commission. It makes sense that just about everything related to life here should be handled by an elected body. The Commission also owns the spaceports and shuttles, at least until those things are privatized. It represents the nations of Earth in the Mars enterprise, and coordinates research on or for the benefit of Mars.”
“What about veto power?”
“The Commissioner should have veto over the taxation rate, because that effects the Commission’s income. I suppose the Chief Minister should have veto power over the budget, because he has to spend it.”
“With legislative override?”
“I suppose. That’s a feature of most governmental systems.”
“That’s rather close to the role we had in mind, I think; it’s more fleshed out,” said Brian, nodding. “Okay, you can count on me. I’ll pull out the address book and start making videocalls tonight.”
“Thanks.” Brian rose from his chair; Will extended a hand. “I appreciate your help, Brian. Devolution should increase popular interest in Mars, and we will benefit. It could even spur land sales, with utopians buying a vote to participate in the enterprise.”
“Yes, it’ll do that, though not enough to help,” said Brian. “I suppose with declining gold prices, every little bit helps. Our uranium enrichment is working very well, by the way. We’re importing equipment and people to more than double output next columbiad. The space nuclear reactor design is coming along really well, too. The hope is to test a nuclear-electric engine for crewed spacecraft in lunar orbit in about a year, fueled by Martian uranium of course. We should meet the 2050 goal of launching a Jupiter mission.”
“And the Chinese may beat you, using clunky old technology,” added Will.
“Maybe. We’ll see.” Brian nodded. “Ciao.”
“Ciao.” Will watched Brian go. Then he turned to his attaché. He reviewed the transcript as well; he had phrased the plan quite nicely. He edited part of the text into a memo giving the main talking points and forwarded it to the two dozen people who had agreed to start making calls. The effort had begun.
------------------------------------
Over the next few sols, Will devoted almost all his time to the campaign; it wouldn’t remain secret for long, so they had to maximize their success before opposition built and the whole thing hit the press. Satursol rolled in and he went back to the office anyway to make more calls. He found the usual assortment of arguments and comments. An elderly South Carolina Senator had called to express his grave concern that many foreigners would get elected to leadership positions if they were filled via the franchise. Will suppressed the desire to make a sarcastic comment that Mars was not the future fifty-first state of the United States and painted a word portrait of all the American values enshrined in Marsian culture and that the population had assimilated the values, just as millions of immigrants to the United States had for generations. The chief of staff of a Minnesota Senator on a powerful Senate committee called to express support; Will thanked him and reused a bit of the same rhetoric. The argument of a key member of the House of Representatives was more complicated; that the restructuring and devolution was premature and should await Mars’s growth to at least several tens of thousands of people. Will replied that they were following the Commission’s recommendations, which had generated a rather powerful sentiment on Mars for greater participation in civic life, a participation that one should never suppress if one wanted to see a society mature and develop. He also forwarded a copy of his comments to Doug Morgan, who, he knew, was a friend of the man.
And then there was the comment of Tom Brady, a senior NASA administrator and the U.S.’s chief liaison with the Mars Commission. “Will, I’ve heard all these arguments before, but really, why should we care that the Marsians want more control? None of us have as much freedom as we’d like. That’s life. The current structure is working fine. The Accident Commission was packed with a bunch of people who wanted to meddle. You seem to be using their conclusions as an opportunity to make yourself popular with the residents, or to push your own free Mars agenda, or both. So convince me; why should we care? Bye.”
Will stared at the screen a moment uncertain how to respond. He certainly would not respond to attacks on his own motivations. He asked Anisa to print out a transcript of the short call. He skimmed it but realized that the transcript lacked the emotional tone of the videomail, so he watched again. He asked Anisa for the outlines and summaries of the three previous calls he had had with Brady and they brought back many details of the exchanges. Tom Brady was an American patriot who was sure that NASA should still be running Mars and had no sense that anyone would have a reason to object to that arrangement. It was an old problem; six years earlier NASA had even tried to shut down the Commission and reassert control over Mars.
“Good sol, Tom,” Will began in his reply. “I think the answer to your question comes from the long-term picture. This place has been increasing its population ten-fold per decade for two decades. I don’t think that will continue; if it did, by 2100 Mars would have a billion people. But this place could have 60,000 by the end of the century and sixty million by the end of the next century. We’re talking about highly educated, highly creative, economically very productive people, and we’re talking about a population with a median age twenty years lower than the United States. It’s an impatient population, too. We need to be riding the wave, not letting the wave ride over us. The United States needs to be in a position to influence and steer this world. The first starship may set out from Mars, Tom; the first ship to the asteroid belt leaves here in six months and the first ships to Jupiter will almost certainly include Marsians. Mars may be the greatest promoter of American democracy, freedom, creativity, and compassion in history. Mars lives the so-called melting pot and so far makes it work. This place is beginning to get restless at the current structure. Let’s make the structure fit the potential for growth, and that means a measure of devolution. It’s the lesson all founding countries learn, sooner or later, is it not? Let me know what you think. Bye.”
He sent the message. He hoped Brady replied; he was prepared to exchange fifty videomails with him. That was Will’s technique; keep the line of communication open, be clear and reasonable, and wear them down.
He was startled when, almost immediately after hitting send, the attaché beeped with an incoming call. It couldn’t be Brady, of course. The caller i.d. said it was from the Commander of Cassini Outpost, so he opened the line. “Good sol, Will; I figured you’d be in the office,” exclaimed Emily Scoville-Rahmani. “Say, what’s this rumor I hear that a devolution of authority is coming and all outpost Commanders might be replaced?”
“What? That’s a new one, Emily. Don’t worry, you’re safe. I’m not planning any changes to command structure.”
“I didn’t think so. But is it true that devolution may inspire reform of the command structure?”
“The plan right now focuses on the recommendations of the Accident Commission and a few logical corollaries. But they necessitate strengthening the Authority by giving it an executive and more money. We’re not talking about restructuring the local command structure. That’s not to say it won’t be talked about some day. What are your thoughts?”
“As many people have said, if Aram can elect its Commander with 25 voters, why can’t Aurorae with over 500? I think that makes sense. Cassini has 45 adults and 5 kids and with the new supercritical CO2 facility and expanded gold recovery equipment, it’ll grow to about 100 next year. Frankly, if I were an elected executive, I might be more effective. People respect me, but I think the military-style command structure is getting old-fashioned.” She seemed a bit nervous saying what she said; perhaps she was uncertain what Will’s reaction would be. She fiddled with a strand a hair and finally pushed it under her headscarf.
“I think that’s a fair observation. Here at Aurorae it feels out of date. But the reactions I’ve been getting on Earth have not been that we’re making too little change, but too much. I’ve had to back-pedal from some reforms. We want to focus on a package that is internally consistent; that represents one theme only. We’ll turn to other themes later.”
“You’re right, and the devolution you’re talking about makes the other changes more logical.” Emily sighed. “I love Cassini, Will. You’ve got to come down and see us now that we have a B-160. So much space! Housing’s fifty percent less costly here than at Aurorae, thanks to spare labor from the mining companies in the dome construction. We’ve got more and more kids here all the time, too. It’s a great little village, and we want it to grow. I think most people here feel that means more elected governance. So I guess I have two messages. One, don’t worry about me, where my position is concerned; and two, don’t keep us out of the loop. We want to know what’s going on and to be consulted.”
“Thanks. You know what my advice would be? Start a petition drive for home rule. That means two things: an elected executive, and authority to set a local budget and taxation rate. If Cassini voters demand home rule from the Mars Authority, the folks in Washington and Paris will feel they can’t get in the way of voters, and my hands will be free to support the petition.”
Emily’s face lit up. “Ah, that’s a good idea. We have a borough meeting scheduled next month. I’ll make sure the idea comes up then.”
“Good. I had better run. If there are specific places where you can help or should give input, I will contact you.”
“Thanks, Will. How are your kids?”
“Oh, great. Lizzie will be in the art summer camp here in July and she’s looking forward to it.”
“Good. Muhammad and I are bringing Amina; we’re spending all of July at the Dacha on vacation. Amina really had fun with Lizzie last time; it was like having a big sister.”
“Lizzie will enjoy having her around, too. Marshall’s now sixteen and has full pressure suit certification. He and Sammie are taking an AP course on organic chemistry via the web and it’ll keep them pretty busy.”
“AP? Isn’t he finishing ninth grade?”
Will nodded. “They accepted him; his science is good enough. Sammie was borderline, but then Sammie’s really a year younger than Marshall, even if they are in the same grade. Next year he may be able to audit a summer course at Martech, believe it or not! Anyway, let’s talk in another week or so. Ciao.”
“Ciao.”
He closed the circuit and turned to emails, a dozen of which were from Congressional aides or lower-level NASA administrators, expressing support or opposition to the devolution plan for a variety of reasons, good and bad. He spent almost an hour answering them, dictating responses that became written text before his eyes. He was working on the seventh email when the videophone rang again. Calls were beginning to become irritating, but this one was from Yoshi Suzuki. “Good sol, Yoshi, how are you?”
“I am well, my friend; how are you?”
“Very well.”
“I’m surprised you’re in this sol. I had planned to leave you a message.”
“Oh, I work a lot of Satursols; the new shortened work week hasn’t decreased my duties. How can I help you?”
“I’m calling to invite you to a special ceremony we’re having next month; June 12 at noon. We’re now putting the finishing touches on a twelve-meter statue of the Buddha in the “earth-witnessing” position; he is pointing one hand downward toward the earth, swearing an oath to the earth that he will never succumb to the temptations of Mara, the great tempter of humanity. We’ve put him against an artificial cliff we’ve excavated into the side of our crater and assembled him from blocks of carved dune sandstone. The color is a pleasant light yellow. We’re pleased with the quality and with the symbolism that here he is pointing to, and swearing by, Father Mars rather than by Mother Earth. The ceremony will be broadcast live back to Japan; the timing was chosen because Japan and Aurorae will be roughly at the same time zone on June 12. Besides, we have been assured that it is astrologically auspicious. Your presence would lend weight and prestige to the occasion.”
“Let me check.” Will turned to the calendar on his attaché. “Yes, I’m free. I’ll be glad to attend. As you know, I have great respect for the Buddha.”
“Yes, I recall our conversation.” Yoshi did not mention that Will’s Bahá'í views of the Buddha as the recipient of a revelation from God made him very uncomfortable, though he had hinted as much to Will when they had talked, and Will had understood and respected the hint.
“How are all your plans going?” Will asked.
“Oh, fairly well. As you know, several Japanese conglomerates have joined together to fund an expansion of our operation by adding a Shinto monastery. A few of us have had training as Shinto priests as well, though we cannot say we are experts. We are delighted that we will have a dozen Shinto brothers here, as well as six more Zen monks.”
“Yes, I saw the passenger manifest the other sol, and I saw that there were six other Japanese coming to provide some support services for the two monasteries. They’ve contracted for nine cylinder domes over four years.”
“We recommended that they do so. How is all your work going? I gather there is a lot of discussion going on right now about devolution. I received a call from a Japanese journalist yestersol asking me what we knew.”
“Really? I guess the media is getting wind of the discussions. There’s nothing I can say right now, Yoshi, other than I’m talking to a lot of people.”
“I am sure you are. I won’t repeat that information to anyone, Will. We’re behind you; we are very honored to be early participants of the colonization of this world. I think the result will be much greater interest by all of Japan as well.”
“I hope so. Thank you for calling, Yoshi. See you at the ceremony next month.”
“Thank you, Will. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.” Will smiled as he closed the circuit; he always enjoyed talking to the monk. He turned back to his email and was startled by an almost immediate ring from the videophone.
“God, when will I ever get the work finished?” he said, exasperated. Then he saw that it was Silvio. “Good sol, Will. I’m in my office with the Aurorae members of the Mars Council; it’s an informal caucus, you might say. Can you stop by the store in twenty minutes or so? We have some ideas.”
“Sure. It’ll look like I’m going to lunch.”
“That’s the idea. The store is perfect for such meetings, isn’t it. See you then.”
They exchanged ciaos and closed the call. Will turned back to his emails, then heard a knock on the door. It was Marshall. “Dad, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure; this is a good time.” Will rose and walked over to a table where he talked to visitors, away from his desk. He looked at his son and was struck by the fact that Marshall was now within a centimeter of his own height, though much thinner. His sideburns were growing in as well and his arm muscles were getting larger. He was growing up fast.
They sat. “Sammie and I were just talking to Alexandra. She said that she could hire us part time over the summer—fifteen hours a week—to do construction on Andalus. We’d get a first grade welding certificate or an electrical wiring certificate. She’ll pay one hundred redbacks per hour.”
Will whistled. “Deseret can’t compete with that!”
“No. I think most of the part timers there are getting other summer jobs. Dad, I really want to do this. I’ll earn 1,500 redbacks per week; 15,000 in two and a half months. I’ve got a list of things I want to buy; a holoprojection television, holos, some golf clubs, a new rock hammer . . .”
“Hey, hold on. Remember, you’re taking AP organic chemistry.”
“I can do that at the same time; the job’s only fifteen hours a week.”
“And we’ve already planned out your thirty-kilogram mass allocation, remember? You’ve got clothes and birthday presents coming.”
“But dad, if you and mom want to give me birthday presents, they should come out of your mass allocation, not mine! It’s not fair to count my presents against my allocation! Besides, adults have a fifty-kilogram allocation. And I know the clothes totaled seventeen kilos; that leaves thirteen kilos I can use. The holoprojector, stripped of packing and stuff we can make here, masses twelve kilos; I checked the Import Office’s website.”
“You’ve done some research. Come on, let’s walk and talk; I have to be in Yalta in fifteen minutes.” They rose from the chairs and headed out of the office. “You’re sure you want to spend all the rest of your quota on a holoprojector?”
“Yes; assuming you won’t put some of my gifts in your quota.”
“We’ll see. How much is it?”
“Ten thousand. They’re still really expensive.”
“Do you realize that very few Earth teenagers can afford holoprojectors? None of them can earn ten thousand redbacks in one summer. They’re still really rare and expensive. There aren’t even tv signals broadcast in holo yet.”
“Not true! Korean tv stations started to broadcast in holo in January, Japan starts next month, the European Union in a year and a half and the U.S. in three years. And they’ve been holorizing movies like crazy; you should see the chariot race in Ben Hur in holo! My friend Jeremy has a holoprojector at home and he says all his friends do, too.”
“That’s Stamford, Connecticut, where everyone’s rich.”
“Well, you can compare our situation against some Indian village where everyone’s poor.”
“Another thing. The deadline for ordering items is July 15. You’ll have less than half the money by then.”
“I was hoping you and mom could loan me the difference, and I’d pay you back by the end of August.”
Will considered that. “Do you realize you probably should save some of the money for college? It’s impossible for kids on Earth; universities are too expensive. But wages are so much more here, and tuition is the same because of all the e-learning courses you’ll be taking.”
“Dad, I can’t even begin to think about saving for college now!”
“Maybe you should.”
“Can I take this job or not?”
“Yes, sure. It’ll be good experience and it’ll earn you a vocational certificate. The question we need to resolve is how you’ll spend the small fortune you’ll earn. Tell you what. Let’s see whether you can plan your time well enough to work and do well in AP organic chemistry.”
“What do you mean by well?”
“An A.”
“Oh, dad!”
“You can do it. What did Sam’s dad say?”
“I don’t know; they’re talking right now, too.”
“Well, I bet Roger will say the same thing. Show me you’re responsible with your time and money, and I’ll talk to mom about advancing you the rest of the money you need. How’s that?”
“The best I’m going to get, I think.” He was sullen, but objected no further.
“Yes, I think so.” They passed through the last airlock and entered Yalta. “I’ve got to go to the store and chat with Silvio for a while, so I’ll see you here for lunch.”
“Okay, thanks dad.”
They parted company. Will walked across the central yard to the entrance to Silvio’s, nodded a hello to Simeon—who was back on duty—and headed back to Silvio’s office. There he found the six Aurorae members of the Mars Council: Silvio DiPonte, Madhu Gupta, Ruhullah Islami, Teng Enlai, Lal Shankaraman, and Alexandra Lescov. Except for John Hunter, who was out of town, they constituted the members of the Aurorae Borough Council as well. On Silvio’s attaché was the face of Gerhard Bach, Commander of Dawes and that Outpost’s representative on the Council. He was surprised to see Gerhard.
“Good sol, Will, and thanks for coming,” said Silvio.
“Glad to. Hope you are all well this sol.” Will turned to the attaché. “How are you, Gerhard?”
“Pretty good, Will. They just called me, so I’m in the dark as well.”
“We thought we’d add Gerhard at least,” explained Silvio. “But this is a caucus, not a formal meeting of the Mars Council. We won’t transact any real business here. We’ve been talking about devolution and related issues all morning; in fact, the entire Council has been emailing back and forth for the last four sols. Pretty soon the Council will need to meet formally, too. Enlai’s got one question we’ve discussed.”
“We think Martech should be included in the first round of devolution, not the second, partly because it’ll speed up the reform of health care,” said Enlai. “It should be reorganized. Rather than a Chancellor appointed by the Commission and approved by the Mars Council, we suggest a Board of Trustees with one or more members elected by the faculty, alumni, the Commission, and the Council, plus the Chancellor. Martech would be incorporated as a semi-private corporation. It’d have an annual subsidy coming from the Commonwealth, an endowment, and a substantial land grant; perhaps 100,000 square kilometers west of here in Gangis or Candor. Martech has grown in the last five years and is becoming a significant center of learning, so it needs a standing.”
“I have no objection to those ideas, as I have already said to Silvio; only to the timing. We need a coherent set of reforms, a clear package to sell.”
“Perhaps the best compromise is to pursue the reform of Martech in parallel,” suggested Madhu. “It doesn’t strike me as a matter requiring input from other governments.”
“It depends on whether devolution gets politicized, or maybe I should say how politicized it gets,” replied Will. “Everything nowadays get linked with bigger issues and rises or falls with them, even if the link is tenuous or ridiculous. Governments might object to the loss of their property because Martech’s the Mars Commission’s right now.” He pondered the matter. “I am in favor of this change in Martech, but I can’t push it right now. The Council can push the matter as much or as little as it wants; that’s your constitutional prerogative. But right now I’ve got to stay focused on the Commission’s recommendations.”
“That gets to another question we want to raise,” said Silvio. “The role of the Landowner’s Assembly. Some landowners were extremely difficult when New Hanford was proposed. The Assembly even debated a resolution banning major nuclear facilities on Mars. Absentee landowners don’t have enough of a stake in Mars to play a major role in governance. Besides, it’s a medieval arrangement to give landowners a stake. Mars does not need a House of Lords.”
“We don’t have a House of Lords,” replied Will. “If anything, the Mars Council is the House of Lords and the Landowners’ Assembly is the House of Commons. The latter represents far more interests, far more diversity, and is much less mature as an institution. As you said, the Assembly debated a resolution banning large nuclear facilities, but it never actually voted on the resolution. We debated similar ideas in the Borough Meetings. So did the Council.”
“Will, it is a strange arrangement,” persisted Enlai. “No one on Earth would set up a government this way.”
“But we aren’t Earth. Ten years ago when the Mars Commonwealth Authority was first established, 30,000 people and 130 corporations had sunk 600 million dollars—a billion redbacks—into land here. This sol we have 65,000 people, 200 corporations, and six billion redbacks in investment, mostly gold leases to three companies. That’s more value than Commission property here. Some of the investment, especially by small landowners, was motivated to support us and be a part of the enterprise; to be part of the Commonwealth. It’s their endeavor too; why shouldn’t they have a role to play? They’re shareholders. Fifty years from now, if this place has a hundred thousand people, almost all of whom will own property, Mars residents and Mars corporations will dominate the Landowners Assembly as well. But right now, the Mars effort involves three groups; residents, the Commission, and terrestrial landowners. Including the latter in the system makes it more inclusive and empowers investment.”
“It strikes me as a clever way of reusing old principles of governance to produce something new and progressive,” noted Madhu. “When the Puritans arrived in New England they used corporate law as the basis of their Commonwealth and English property law to determine who could vote; which in their case was all men, since they all had property!”
“Well, then they established a voting requirement based on church membership,” growled Silvio.
“Let’s not plan to do that,” replied Will. “Now, seriously, we can’t and won’t abolish the Landowners Assembly. I doubt that’s what you had in mind anyway. But the Assembly already doesn’t have as much authority as the Council and it needn’t have as much. For example—”
“We have exactly that issue in mind,” interrupted Silvio. “Specifically, we’d limit the Landowners Assembly to approval of any taxes the landowners have to pay.”
“I. . . could see that.” Will nodded.
“The budget for the proposed Ministry of Transportation is larger than the annual property tax levy,” added “Lal. “It’s perfectly legitimate for the landowners to pay for the maintenance and improvement of roads. Their land would be nearly worthless if it weren’t on a road.”
“We’ve already sent land use bills to the Assembly and the Commission has already consulted with them about the release of new tracts of land to the market,” said Will. “They should continue to have the privilege of consent about policies and laws that effect the value of their property.”
“I suppose that’s unavoidable,” agreed Lal. “The Assembly had a good balance of positions when the question of setting up natural parks was resolved. We’d be willing to allow that; but in return, we believe the landowners should not have a say over who is Chief Minister.”
Will was startled by that statement. His first impulse was to reject it forcefully. “We have a bicameral legislature,” he replied. “I think that means that denying the landowners such a privilege would make a mockery of the legislative status of their Assembly.”
“While I’m representing Dawes here, I can’t deny that I’m Muller Mining’s chief officer on Mars,” added Gerhard. “Dr. Muller is a great supporter of Mars, but he would feel personally affronted if his right to vote as an Assemblyman for the Chief Minister were taken from him.”
“Of course,” said Will. “Silvio, I know you opposed the Landowners Assembly ten years ago, but it was established and it has existed for a decade now. We can’t strip it of its privileges now.”
“I’m not talking about taking away anything,” replied Silvio. “For the last decade the Council and Assembly haven’t done much. We’ve controlled the budget for the arts on Mars and we’ve had the authority to charter boroughs. We’ve passed a land use bill defining natural parks and historic sites. Now the range of responsibilities is increasing. Why do both legislative bodies have to increase in responsibility the same amount at the same time?”
“They don’t, but we can’t create the impression that we are ignoring the Landowners Assembly,” replied Will. “There’s no reason for the landowners to be involved in education, health, the interior environment, safety, or emergency services. But they have legitimate interests in transportation, resource recovery, the exterior environment, land sales, and property taxation. We’ve stretched their interest to include Martian art and culture and they have accepted that; it’s good corporate citizenship and of great interest to small landowners, who love to watch our cultural events. They inevitably have interest in who runs everything and should have some sort of say.”
“What if the Chief Minister were elected by the residents?” asked Lal. “Then neither chamber would have a role.”
“And what if the Chief Minister had veto power over taxation, rather than the Commissioner?” added Silvio.
“We’re having enough trouble selling this change to the Earth governments,” replied Will. “They’ll accept election of local mayors, but not of the Chief Minister. Not for another decade or so. And they’ll want the Commissioner to retain control over taxation because it effects Commission income. Frankly, giving the Chief Minister the veto over the budget will be a hard sell.”
“Will, why should the Commission have a say over how much money we spend on schools and hospitals?” asked Enlai. “You’ve got to try to sell that, at least.”
Will considered. “That will be difficult, but I can give it a try. I’ll need all the help I can get. We’re encountering strong resistance.”
“How is the campaign going?” asked Silvio.
Will shrugged. “It’s hard to say; we’re getting noncommittals, but no outright rejections. That will change in the next few sols because the media has gotten wind of the issue. Once they report about it, there will be official statements.”
“We won’t discuss the matter officially as a Council for several weeks,” said Silvio. “We don’t want Mars to get less as a result of any controversy up here.”
--------------------------
Later that night, a Japanese television network released the first story about the negotiations about devolution. When Will awoke the next morning, a videomail from Louisa Turner awaited him. “I almost awakened you in the middle of the night,” she said. “Tom Brady released a statement promptly at 6 a.m. Eastern time that the United States ‘would strongly oppose any effort to change the current structure of the Mars operation beyond minimal reforms necessary to assure safety.’ The Europeans, Russians, and Japanese appear to be disposed in favor of the devolution plan; Brazil and India have not commented; China is assumed to be opposed. You should ask Stark to call Brady and try to get a sense of what ‘strongly opposed’ means. But it doesn’t sound good. I’m attaching a statement for your approval; we have to say something. Bye.”
He opened the statement and began to read it. Ethel came over. “I heard what Louisa said. What are you going to do?”
“Well, no country pays fifty percent or more of the government dues, so no one can veto. The U.S. could stop this if one or two larger funders agreed with it, like China, or India and Europe together. Even so, going against its will could have some pretty serious consequences.”
“Funding?”
He nodded. “Or they could oppose renewing my authority as Commissioner.”
“There’s also a Presidential campaign coming up.”
“There’s always an election
coming up, but who knows what that means.” Will shrugged. “We’ve lost one
battle, but the war’s not over yet.”
© 2005 Robert H. Stockman