9
Organization
By the end of the sol Daniel Shapiro was arrested, brought before Judge DePonte, and released on personal recognizance until his trial could proceed a week later. For the next week everyone on Mars spoke about little else, for they were shocked such an attempted theft would be made.
The trial lasted three sols and proved much more complicated than expected because Shapiro hired lawyers on Earth to help him, and the slow communications stretched out the procedures. But in the end he was found guilty and sentenced to house confinement except for half an hour a sol. He would return to Earth for final sentencing and imprisonment. Shapiro continued to insist on his innocence.
“You know, this would have been much more complicated if he had stolen gold in Cassini or on a robotic truck during a drive back here,” noted Silvio to Will after the trial had ended. “Cassini has no code of law. It has no judge or borough officers, either; just an outpost commander.”
“Of course, the Commander of Mars Operations has plenty of authority under the provisions of the Commission treaty,” noted Will. “But your point is well taken, Silvio. We should ask Cassini to adopt all of Aurorae’s laws. Longer term, we have to establish a Mars-wide approach to this problem, not solve it borough by borough. It’s time to define a Mars level of governing authority.”
“What will the Commission say about that?” asked Silvio.
“I don’t know, but I’ll find out pretty soon.” Will glanced at his watch. “I’ve got an appointment to meet with Morgan starting in five minutes.”
“How long will that take?”
“Probably four hours; that’s how long they usually take. Round trip communication takes forty minutes right now.”
“I know; I had to sit in my office half of last night exchanging slow videomails with a judge in Houston, and I didn’t have anything else to do, so I napped in between! Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Will left the courtroom and headed back to his office. He took a long detour through Riviera Biome and had to walk along a narrow path across the open space while regolith was poured onto and pushed around the floor that would be the future “yard.” It was exciting to watch the progress. As soon as he reached his office and closed its doors, Commissioner Morgan’s first message popped into his in-box. Will was surprised to see Louisa Turner sitting next to him.
“I thought Louisa should participate in this meeting because the main subject has to be our image in the media. As you can imagine, we have taken quite a beating in the last week. Two criminal acts out of a population of less than 100 adults is hardly ideal. We need a strategy. Louisa can summarize the situation.”
“It’s not good,” she said. “I can give you websites to look at if you’d like. One headline on a space news website is ‘Utopia Destroyed on Mars.’ We know Mars never was utopia, but never mind; there are tens of thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands, who project their utopian fantasies onto Mars. They generally know Mars isn’t a utopia either, but they pin their hopes on Mars’s future. That translates into property sales, political support, etc. We need to reinforce our base of support.”
“Property sales appear to have dipped over the last week,” added Morgan. “Of course, a week isn’t very long and the dip isn’t very obvious. Maybe it’ll become more obvious in the next few weeks. Generally, this columbiad has done quite well. An international Gallup poll is also underway and the preliminary results are discouraging. I called the researcher today and he said that the percentage saying Mars development and settlement is ‘very important’ has dropped from twenty percent to twelve percent. The number saying it is ‘somewhat important’ was not as drastically effected; the number saying ‘unimportant’ rose to thirty percent. The numbers are not final, but they tell us we have a problem we need to tackle immediately.”
“So we were wondering whether there is something that can be done to change the conversation to an exciting topic,” continued Louisa. “Another expedition to the north pole or a trip to the top of Elysium Montes might be interesting enough to capture the public’s attention. There are some possible thermal vents in southern Hellas that might be of interest as well. Finally, Mars and the asteroid Tikal are coming up on opposition in four months, and it’ll be only twenty million kilometers away. Two shuttles, fully refueled at Phobos, could fly out, visit a few weeks, and come back in time for Columbus 6’s return to Earth. Tikal’s thirty klicks across; somewhat bigger than Phobos, and bigger than just about anything that’s been visited lately. A crew of four could visit it safely and do some very interesting science.”
“Maybe you have other suggestions,” added Morgan. “The ideal, right now, would be discovering life on Mars! That’s the sort of boost we need. It’s what you got during Columbus 1, when the conflict among the crew had come to dominate headlines and you found fossils immediately thereafter. Have you any ideas, Will? Over to you. Bye.”
Puzzled, Will decided to take some time and look up Tikal. It was indeed coming close to Mars; closer than it did in fifteen years. They had been looking at expeditions of this sort for several years. Asteroids a half kilometer in diameter or more flew within ten million kilometers of Mars about six times per year. The inner edge of the asteroid belt was not much farther away than the Earth was, and some asteroids strayed even closer on occasion. Expeditions to them were inevitable, but the timing was important. He hit reply.
“Thanks Doug, Louisa. I knew we were in trouble, but I wasn’t aware of the extent of the problem until your call. Perhaps that’s because I’ve been immersed in the trial.
“I suppose our first option is to do nothing and assume this black eye will heal over time. I am sure it will heal over time, too, but I agree that right now we’re smarting from it, and it has the potential to do some long-term damage to us. So I concur that we have to do something.
“But what we do is important. If we act primarily for the sake of repairing the damage done to our public image, no doubt that motivation will be obvious to many people. Under those circumstances it could backfire. The exploration schedule is set months in advance in order to allow terrestrial geologists time to plan their support roles, especially the people who have grants to study a particular area. Expeditions to asteroids ideally should be planned far enough in advance so that equipment to place on the asteroid can be obtained from Earth, and data from telescopes and radio telescopes in the vicinity of Earth can be used to provide background. Then there is NASA’s Project Argo to remember; if we appear to be trumping it, we will earn the enmity of many in the United States, and we can ill afford that right now, as we repair the damage that occurred after the change in administrations. Argo is underway in less than two years.
“What I would suggest is more utopian, flows naturally from the recent trial, but may not be popular with the Mars Commission: beginning plans for a Mars constitutional convention to lay down a basic governing structure and law for the entire planet. I was just talking to Silvio, who pointed out to me that if this theft had occurred in Cassini or on a robotic truck between the two boroughs, our legal situation would have been more ambiguous. Obviously, there are ways to prosecute crimes outside Aurorae Borough, but they involve courts in Houston or in Texas, which are a long way from here. We have been talking seriously about the need for such a gathering for almost a year.
“I know the Commission is uncomfortable about the matter, and I can understand why. But we are not talking about national sovereignty or autonomy or independence. Mars is too small for that and will be too small for decades, if not a century or more. Rather, we’re talking about subsidiarity: the principle that there must be many levels of government and that they all play complementary roles. There are plenty of small towns around Earth that elect governments and run courts even though they have a hundred or so people. They do not abolish county, state, or national government in the process. Mars has a lot of bright, hard-working, articulate people who want a say in how their schools and clinics are run and what the rules are. Many people are not very active politically; they’re busy with their career. But some are very active politically, both here and on Earth via the media. And isolation here tends to breed a certain insularity, a certain pride in Mars and in our boroughs; you might call it proto-citizenship. So the time is ripe for a Mars constitutional convention. If it’s done right, it has the potential to make the hearts of the utopians go pitter-patter. It will certainly stir interest in us, will be perceived as an effort to right wrongs, and will be an indicator of our long-term stability as a society. That’s good for investment. It also establishes a planet-wide legal structure that will encourage the construction of Dawes and other boroughs, even though I’d prefer to avoid them. So that would be my recommendation. Back to you. Bye.”
Will hit send and wondered how his proposal would be received. He had been slow to propose a convention because he knew how fiercely Morgan would resist the idea. Perhaps the trial could give the idea some momentum.
While waiting for the reply, Will turned to the ephemeris and checked out the flybys of asteroids one kilometer in diameter or larger. There were fifteen of them predicted to occur in the next ten years, and some were quite close. One was a nickel-iron body; none of them had yet been explored robotically. They’d have to launch a mission some day, but not until Argo had a success.
He turned to email and waited. It was almost an hour before the reply arrived; there had been discussion at the other end. Louisa did not look happy.
“Will, let’s avoid a constitutional convention, or a charter meeting, or an all-Mars conference, or whatever you want to call it,” replied Morgan. “How much democracy do a bunch of overworked, and largely politically apathetic, people need? There’s no guarantee the gathering would be received positively, either. Utopians—anarchists to communists—will simply dislike the compromises that Mars would inevitably have to choose. Don’t worry about the utopians. The real utopians don’t buy land, anyway.
“No, let’s find a practical blockbuster mission. I agree, Tikal is not politically useful, and it could look self-serving or as a snub of NASA. But a trip to Elysium Mons and the thermal vents north of it are important and interesting. Pursue that, okay? Bye.”
Will frowned and thought about his response carefully. “Doug, the Elysium plateau is a good mission, but it’s not something we can send out in less than two or three months, so it won’t help our public image right now. I’ll get it started. But the momentum for an all-Mars gathering already exists. Go look at the outpost’s listservers and message boards. The matter is being discussed. The decision to call such a gathering is not in my hands, either; I’m just a humble citizen of the place. Er, I mean resident. Alexandra and Érico are the elected officers in Aurorae Borough, and presumably it’s their decision. Bye.”
He sent the message, angry that Morgan was so opposed to something that seemed so natural to the Mars population. Citizens; that was a slip of his tongue. He shouldn’t have hit “send” so fast; he could have gone back and re-recorded the message, or even edited out that sentence. Now he wondered what Morgan would think.
He sat worrying, mad at himself, staring out the window at the cinnamon landscape and escarpment standing up above the habitats and biomes of Aurorae Outpost, the place they used to call “the Outpost” until a second one was established. And he realized that citizen indeed reflected how he felt about the place, even if it was a tiny human collective. It was home. He thought about the American flag flying over the outpost from its flagpole at the base of Face Rock, a flag many wanted to take down and replace with a Mars flag. The time to do that was fast coming.
Unlike the previous delay in communications, he was unable to work during that wait. He sat and thought for the entire forty-six minutes until Morgan’s reply popped into his in-box.
“Will, please don’t hide behind the excuse that Alexandra and Érico are to blame. You’re in charge up there and everyone knows it. You command their respect. They’ll follow you on a matter like this. There’s to be no Mars Constitution at this time. The Commission has all the authority necessary to coordinate things at the planetary level, including such matters as criminal activity. Military law, private corporate law, shipboard law; this is not a unique situation. There’s plenty of law available to us. Borough government and law make sense; these are settlements where people live. They need to pay taxes to support all sorts of services the Commission was not set up to provide. But the space between the settlements, and between them and Earth, is the sphere of the Commission. A millimeter past the border of each Borough, you enter the realm of the Commission. That’s always been our interpretation of the Mars Commission Treaty. And you are bound to uphold the Commission as its representative up there. Bye.”
That startled Will; he was aware of that interpretation of the Commission Treaty, but had never heard it from Morgan before. He thought carefully for several minutes and scribbled a few notes before replying.
“Doug, I very much appreciate and understand the position you are taking. But I respectfully remind you that you don’t live here. We do; I do. We can’t go to a soccer game or a mall, go vote in a national election, go buy a newspaper printed on paper, go watch a fireworks display. Earth is in our memories and on the screens of our televisions. We speak almost two dozen native languages in our flats, yet eat our soy cheese and tilapia filets together in the same bubble of air, speaking to each other in the same standardized English with the same Marsisms, like ‘good sol.’ Our neighbors are Martians. Our elections are Martian. Our certification renewal classes are for the same things: space suits, rangers, shuttles, nukes, Prospectors. We watch amateur ballet with impossibly high leaps. We play golf outside as members of the Aurorae County Club, with an eighteenth hole that is a 550-meter par three.
“Now, if you think our emerging Mars culture isn’t going to be expressed as Mars politics, you need to rethink things. This is not my doing; it is something that is emerging in the environment. I did not choose the word citizen; it welled up spontaneously inside me and surprised me because that is how I feel. I’m being frank with you; I’m not hiding behind anything. Please believe me, because I know the only way this videomail way of communicating can work is that everyone trusts everyone else. Otherwise it’ll become a series of exchanged excuses and white lies and trust will break down. We have to maintain trust, Doug. There will almost certainly be a Mars constitutional convention in a few months. We can use the event as a way to strengthen the relationship between the Mars residents and the Commission, or not; we can use it as an opportunity to improve our image, or not. It is an inevitable opportunity. Bye.”
He hit send, surprised by the emotion and honesty in his words. They had to be frank with each other, in spite of the risk that misunderstandings and biases would result. He went out to pace around the Outpost, walking as far as Riviera in the process. When he returned he saw an e-mail message from Louisa, which had arrived right after he had stepped out and therefore about fifteen minutes before his response had even reached Mars. Don’t worry, he’ll come around, Louisa had said. Will imagined her excusing herself from Morgan’s office to go to the bathroom, and hastily dictating the message from the toilet stall. When Morgan’s reply arrived, it was more conciliatory.
“Look, Will, your colony is barely eleven years old. There’s plenty of time to organize it later. If some sort of meeting is held, make it a ‘Mars Planning Conference’ and invite terrestrial speakers to address it. We’ve had those before, and the others at least touched on social issues. Meanwhile, get the Elysium expedition into the planning pipeline. I think everyone will be surprised how fast the scientific justification of the expedition will snowball. Bye.”
That was something he could live with. He hit reply. “Okay, Doug, that will work. We’ll start on this two-pronged approach right away.” He hit send, then pulled up Louisa’s videomail number. “Louisa, thanks for everything. Let’s look at a panel discussion about ‘alternative modes of governance.’ In particular, I’m curious about some articles I’ve heard about recently that discussed non-competitive governance. One was an application of ‘appreciative inquiry’ to governance by, I think, Silvia Quinn. The reference was in last Sunsol’s issue of the New York Times. Sorry, I mean last Sunday, not last Sunsol. Another was about decision making without partisan advocacy, but I don’t remember a title or author. I’ll get my secretary going on a research project about the matter. If we’re going to create some sort of new model of governance, we need to learn to control partisanship. Thanks again. Bye.”
He sent the message, then thought about whom he should talk to about the conference. He decided to find Érico and Alexandra and interrupt their work.
-------------------------------
Two weeks passed in a whirlwind of work. The Elysium expedition did indeed move through the planning phase very fast; it was one of the last areas of the planet they hadn’t explored and warranted a thorough tour. Almost as fast was the development of interest in a meeting to discuss Mars’s future, including its organization, scheduled for the first weekend of September. Public interest was piqued. When the Mars Exploration Society announced plans to hold a parallel conference on Earth for all Mars landowners—who had no official legal mechanism for expressing their concerns or interests about Mars—the media, sensing controversy, became even more interested. Morgan found himself uttering platitudes about the importance to the Commission of good governance on the Red Planet.
The issue of lack of government in Cassini was more pressing and easier to solve. As soon as the live television shows of July 4th fireworks ended—shortly after the dawn of July 5 in Aurorae—a sunwing-B took off heading for Cassini. The passengers on the twenty-hour flight were two: Will Elliot and Alexandra Lescov. As soon as the sunwing landed on Cassini’s landing strip, they stepped out—wearing spacesuits and carrying suitcases—and were met by a ranger driven by Emily Scoville. They climbed into the ranger, where Emily repressurized the cabin so they could remove their suits. Will was surprised to see Emily’s hair covered by a scarf, but said nothing.
“Welcome to Cassini, Will! And welcome back, Alexandra!”
“Thank you; it’s exciting to be here,” replied Will.
“How was the flight?”
“As good as a twenty-hour flight can be,” replied Will. “I guess I should be thankful this wasn’t a Sunwing-A, which would have taken thirty hours instead of twenty.”
“The stationery bike with arm exercisers and the hammocks help a lot,” said Alexandra. “I watched a lot of television, too.”
“I wish we had more shuttle flights, but I know that isn’t practical.” Emily put the ranger in gear and turned around. They headed toward the Outpost, which was a shiny enclosure six kilometers away. “How are the plans for the sunwing-C coming?”
Will shrugged. “We’ll see if it’s ready for Columbus 7. A biwing is complicated enough; a triwing is driving the designers and the software engineers crazy.”
“But it’s supposed to have a shorter wingspan, right?”
Will nodded. “Shorter, but stacking three wings means it’s taller, the propellers are bigger, and the wings are staggered behind each other to maintain the exposure to the sun, so the lift is distributed differently. We’ll see whether they can pull it off.”
“Oh, they’re solving the problems, Will. It’ll be ready. What I find exciting is introduction of silane-powered motors. A tonne of silane requires three tonnes of carbon dioxide to burn, which is a ratio just about as good as jet fuel-oxygen combustion on Earth.”
“Are we going to be able to make the silane?” asked Emily, skeptically.
“We’ll get seven small production units on Columbus 7,” Alexandra replied. “And motors to retrofit on the older sunwings, complete with CO2 compressors. Our aircraft will have two or three times as much power and thus will fly faster or carry more cargo.”
“That’ll help a lot,” agreed Emily. “And I gather we need silane to make some new plastics as well.”
“And solar panels,” added Alexandra. “We’ll just import some rare materials we can’t refine here yet.”
“I like the scarf in your hair,” Will said. “It looks nice.”
“Oh, thank you.” Emily sounded embarrassed and didn’t speak further for a moment. “Muhammad Rahmani I have been studying the Qur’an together for the last few months, and I decided to accept the Prophet Muhammad.”
“Oh? Congratulations,” said Will, trying not to sound surprised.
“What does your family think of that?” asked Alexandra.
“Oh, they were. . . surprised.”
“So, how has it been here over the last few months?” asked Will, changing the subject.
Emily shrugged. “There’s really not much to add to the reports you already get from me. Things have finally slipped into a routine; I’d say that happened in March, not long after the construction phase ended and after the design bugs were resolved in the equipment. And as it turned out, both companies were able to be more efficient when they worked together; Consolidated’s rock crusher was better, but Muller Mining’s repair crew was more effective, and Muller was better able to blast rock loose for the rock crushers to work on. They’ve learned from each other, and with our people here they’ve surveyed the deposits better to determine the optimal recovery strategies. There’s actually some good work done at the Colorado School of Mines on the best strategy to blast and digest the various outcrops. As a result, output has climbed to five tonnes of gold per month, combined. Each company’s producing about half of the total.”
“That’s impressive.” Will calculated. “We dug fourteen tonnes in the first six months. If we manage five per month for the remaining eleven months, that’s sixty-nine tonnes to send back with Columbus 6, and fifty-four more when Columbus 7 arrives nine months later.”
“They’ll manage it, I think. Efficiency is improving as fast as the quality of the gold deposits is declining.”
“Of course, one reason they’re producing so much is because we’re providing a lot more support than contracted,” said Alexandra, who had always been critical of the support effort. “Each company’s four people can keep busy in the field, loading the rock crushers and repairing broken equipment, while operators in Aurorae keep them going twenty-four point six hours per sol.”
“We’re providing ten full time equivalents instead of eight,” admitted Will. “But we’re getting a bigger cut of the profit, too. We’ll need the billion dollars of income we’re getting, believe me. How’s morale, here?”
“Not bad, now. The work week is sixty hours, which is okay considering we’re isolated, no one has families, and all food and laundry services are provided.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing the social climate here firsthand,” said Will.
“And to calling our first Borough meeting.”
“Yes. It’s time to elect officers and adopt bylaws.”
“Who can vote? I ask because it isn’t clear who’s a resident here.”
“Everyone here right now can vote. Officers can rotate back to Aurorae, especially if we elect a vice chair, assistant clerk, and assistant treasurer.”
“Do we really need a treasurer?”
“The clerk can do the work temporarily, but it might be wiser to designate the clerk and the treasurer as assistants to each other.”
Emily nodded, absorbing the idea.
They drove on in silence for another minute. Then the ranger climbed up a steep slope, leveled off, and went around the edge of a hill, and Cassini’s Transvaal Biome sudden hove into view. “Wow!” said Will. “It looks great!”
“Home sweet home,” replied Emily.
The ranger approached the main airlock slowly. Emily pushed a button on the dashboard and the outer door swung upward, just like a garage door on Earth. Once it was up and out of the way, she drove in, then pushed the button again. The door swung downward behind them, then the pressurization cycle began automatically. “The darn thing leaks,” she grumbled.
“They always do,” replied Will. “But it’s just CO2 and electricity.”
Emily nodded. A light on the dashboard turned green; she pushed another button and the inner door swung upward and forward, allowing them to drive into the garage, a big metal room buried underground able to accommodate four rangers. They entered and once the airlock door had closed again they opened the ranger and stepped out.
Emily led them out the main door and down a tunnel. She opened the door at the far end and they were suddenly in Transvaal. The temperature and humidity told them that the climate was one of a mild savanna, not too hot or humid. Will stopped to admire the view. They had entered from the western end. On the northern side of the circular area was a completed building just like the buildings in Aurorae. The middle area was a “yard” just like Yalta or Catalina covered with fruit trees, some flowers, vegetables, and clover. The southern side of the biome was a hole in the ground where the biome’s other building would eventually be placed, the bottom covered by a thin layer of soil verdant with corn, wheat, tomatoes, beans, squash, broccoli, peas, eggplant, and other crops. Cucumbers climbed fences covering the walls of the hole. A robot crisscrossed the garden, picking anything ripe.
“You’ve got a garden on the roof as well?” asked Will.
Emily nodded. “And there’s a nice view of the crater rim up there as well.” She led them into the building. The right side was a dining area. “We’ve got a kitchen, television lounge, and ping pong tables on the left side. Ten of us have rooms upstairs; they’re a bit small, but comfortable. The guest rooms are downstairs in the basement, which also has storage and a plant hibernation facility; it’s mostly for the strawberries.”
“I’d like to go down and rest before supper anyway,” said Will.
Emily led them downstairs to the rooms and showed them two empty ones. Will moved into one, unpacked, and pulled out his attaché. He worked a while—it connected to the outpost’s network without any problems—walked up to the roof to see the view, then pulled on his space suit and went outside with Alexandra to explore the area a bit. After washing and resting, it was time for supper.
Everyone came up to welcome him and chat. Will ended up sitting in the middle of one long table, asking questions or answering them, while everyone else listened. The relative ease everyone felt toward each other, and the fact that they usually sat at one long table together, were encouraging signs.
“So, how’s it going?” Will asked Bruce Curry, when they both got up to get coffee.
Bruce shook his head. “I’m not going to hit a hundred tonnes, but I might manage seventy-five. Right now I’m striving for seventy-five, and if it looks close we’ll raise the goal to eighty. I hope we can do better during the next columbiad; 150 tonnes might be possible if we follow the gold concentrations.”
“You’re planning to stay?”
He nodded. “I’ll get a ten million dollar signing bonus for staying, and I’m trying to negotiate it upward; it’ll cost Consolidated fifty million to replace me, after all.”
“And you’re getting along alright with the Germans?”
“Sure; they’re okay. Each of us has proprietary technology, but we can help each other without compromising trade secrets. It’s working out alright.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I’ve been hearing reassuring reports in the last few months, but I was worried anyway.”
They walked back to the table. Emily watched Will approach, then stood and clinked her glass with a fork. “Attention, everyone! As you probably know, Commander Elliott has come to Cassini for a business visit. Not only does he want to see how we’re doing and encourage our work, but he wants to address us about the need to organize the borough. I don’t want to preempt his comments, though, so I turn the floor over to him.”
Will barely had time to put down his coffee, let alone sip from it. He was a bit surprised by the timing of the announcement, but he proceeded anyway. “Thank you, everyone, for your very warm and enthusiastic welcome. Things here seem better than I expected, and I expected that things would be good. I can’t tell you how happy I am that Cassini is established, up and running, and successful. It appears Cassini will produce almost two billion dollars of exports this columbiad, which exceeds everyone’s expectations.
“Cassini has eleven residents, which was the number of residents Aurorae Outpost had in 2022—ten years ago—when we decided we had to organize ourselves. As a result of many months of discussions among ourselves and consultations with lawyers and other experts, Aurorae Outpost unanimously approved a declaration of civic government. We elected a chair and secretary, and later we added a treasurer and a judge to our officers. We declared that the civic government would handle ‘certification of marriages, births, deaths, divorces, and other life events of importance; adjudication of disputes; drawing up ordinances to regular behavior for the common good; providing for common needs, such as education, health, safety, and the necessities of life; regulating businesses; raising revenue through taxation and other fees; and recognizing transfer of ownership of property.’ We declared the boundary of the borough to be everything between the equator and fifteen south, and between the thirtieth and forty-fifth longitudinal parallels. Since then we have adopted bylaws and an extensive legal code. We also passed a resolution about a year ago recognizing the existence of Cassini Borough.
“The time has come for Cassini Borough to organize as well. In some ways your legal needs are less than ours were ten years ago. We needed in particular to establish a mechanism for legal recognition of births. The time will come when Cassini has to deal with births, deaths, marriages, and divorces as well. But in other ways, Cassini’s needs for civic government are as great as Aurorae’s are now. Aurorae has had to deal with two crimes in the last six months; Cassini may face the same situation at any time. Cassini has more or less permanent residents. Of the 724,000 square kilometers within the borough’s jurisdiction, a third of the land is already sold to two companies. Others may wish to purchase pieces of land, including all of you; it seems likely that within ten to fifteen years the technology to build private houses on Mars will have matured. Everyone is predicting that Cassini’s future is great and that a great city will arise here by the end of the twenty-first century. That great city needs a civic foundation now.
“How Cassini is founded is not up to me, to Emily, or to the companies that recover gold here. It is up to the residents. You are free to come up with any arrangement you favor that meets certain standards, such as the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the laws of the state of Texas, and perhaps even the standards of democracy of the European Union. The easiest path to take is to adopt the Bylaws of Aurorae Borough and modify them as you see fit. That has the added advantage that all of Mars standardizes on the same model of governance. But that is not, by any means, the only path open to you. Earlier this sol Érico Lopes, the clerk of Aurorae Borough, emailed the Aurorae Bylaws to everyone here. I see one or two paper copies around the room and I know Emily has printed out a few more. You can use them as a starting point if you wish.
“In closing, I want to add a few words. In nine months you already have a far larger facility than Aurorae had after several years. You already have a financial and economic base that Aurorae still lacks. Don’t compare yourself against Aurorae this sol. Compare Cassini against what it will become. Vision, hard work, and dedication together make a place grow. I see the hard work here, and I feel the dedication. I suspect the vision is here as well.” Will turned to Emily and nodded, then sat.
“Questions for the commander?” she asked.
“I have one,” said Muhammad Rahmani, a Malaysian repair specialist. He stood. “No one can accuse me of bias against our Commander here, Emily Scoville, so perhaps I’m the best one to suggest this: it may be best if this meeting be chaired by someone from outside Cassini, so no one can say the results were manipulated in some way. My suggestions is Alexandra Lescov. Many of us know her, she spent two months here and knows us, and she is chair of the Borough of Aurorae. It seems fitting.”
Emily, who was sitting next to Muhammad and was very close friends with him, immediately nodded. “Excellent idea!” Others in the room seemed to agree as well, so Alexandra stood.
“I’ll be happy to assist. Other questions for the Commander?”
There were none. Alexandra allowed a long silence to fill the room. “Perhaps we should start by going around the room and expressing our feelings frankly about organization. Do you favor? Oppose? Don’t care? Do you have a thought about the form of government to follow? About the system in Aurorae? Let’s start at this end of the table. Christina Stolz.”
Christina was a German miner, and she was sitting next to Ray Munson, a miner for Consolidated whom she had gotten fond of in the last few months. She paused to collect her thoughts. “I’m planning to stay here at least two columbiads, maybe three, so I feel I have a stake in this place as a community. I know some of us are here to earn a lot of money, and some are planning to leave with Columbus 6, unless we get a big signing bonus, that is. But I think all of us feel the need to give Cassini some long-term roots.”
Alexandra nodded and looked at Munson. “I agree with Christina. A civic authority of some sort is a good idea, in my opinion.”
Next at the table was Margaret Bailey, sitting next to Ni Gao, a Chinese engineer with whom she was fond. “I agree, and I think Aurorae’s system is fine.”
“I’m not a company person, but I’m planning to stay on Mars long term, and I may find myself in Cassini much of that time,” said Gao. “I think we need a civil government as well. Mars probably needs one also.”
Gerhard Bach, who was next, frowned. “I suppose people will say I favor a company town, but this is a pretty small place, and a place devoted to work, not family or leisure. I see no reason to change the status quo, except build another biome, of course, and haul in more equipment.”
Several people opened their mouths to speak, but Alexandra shook her head. She looked at Alma, then Johann Werner, two other German miners. Alma looked at Gerhard. “Frankly, I don’t care what we do,” she said.
“Well, I do,” replied Johann. “Because we may start a family here or at Aurorae eventually. We may not have families here now, but we have couples, and a few more of them than are registered as married. We may need to celebrate marriages here pretty soon. After Columbus 7 arrives, how big will Cassini be? Sixteen? Twenty? Maybe thirty, after Columbus 8 arrives? I favor planning ahead.”
Johann looked at Bruce Curry, who was next. Curry shrugged. “I want whatever is best for Consolidated. I suspect that means growing Cassini as much as possible and organizing it so that it can compete for resources against Aurorae. Civic government? Sure.”
Alexandra looked on the other side of herself at Will, then on to Emily. “I’ll pass, for now,” she replied.
“Government modeled after Aurorae,” replied Muhammad, who was next. “I read the bylaws this sol and was surprised they’re in plain English.”
“Very readable,” agreed Alexandra. “Louise?”
“I’ve been on Mars five years now, and I’ve participated in Aurorae’s system,” said the nuclear engineer. “It’s a good system. It helps create community because it makes all of us realize we are responsible for our outpost together. So I’d favor it.” She turned to Eliseo Andaluziano, a Chilean engineer.
He nodded. “I haven’t been here that long, but the little I saw after arrival impressed me. It appears I have a long-term commitment to Cassini, so I want to see it grow.”
Alexandra smiled. “I’m surprised and impressed. I’m not counting votes, of course, but I have counted preferences. Many reasons were cited in favor of a civic government. Only two were opposed to the idea. No one offered alternatives to the Aurorae bylaws, which seemed generally fine. Let’s refine this discussion now with questions and comments about governance. . . .”
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The discussion went longer than expected; it was almost midnight before the last group left the dining area. Within half an hour of the beginning, everyone had agreed that a civic authority was needed, but few knew anything about Aurorae’s system. It took a lot of explaining and discussion. The next morning after breakfast the residents of Cassini approved a modification of Aurorae’s bylaws. After dinner that night they elected Ni Gao as clerk, Emily Scoville as chair, and Christina Stolz as treasurer. They also elected Silvio Deponte as their judge; he could travel back and forth as needed. The three officers met with Alexandra the entire next sol to modify Aurorae’s bylaws. Meanwhile, Will traveled all over the gold fields looking at excavations and hearing about practical problems they needed to solve.
Five sols passed before Alexandra and Will flew back to Aurorae, this time on a shuttle bearing three months of gold production. Will was at his office by 11 a.m., after spending some time with Ethel and the kids.
“You won’t believe what you’ve missed,” said Martha Vickers, shortly after Will settled into his office. “The last five sols have been the most extraordinary in Martian history, in a way.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “First, Sheila Burns and Arieh Feldman announced that they plan to get married in December—”
“Really! She’s still recovering from the rape!”
“She is, but the event pushed Arieh and her to reconsider their relationship, and they decided to get married. Ernesto and Jenny followed by announcing their marriage plans two sols later; Kevin is reconciled to it, though he’s unhappy, of course.”
“Wow, that’s great!”
“But there’s more, Will. Daichi and Ryoko Furukawa came to the hospital for a maternity test; they’ll have a baby in February. They feel bad, since normally couples don’t have children here during their first columbiad. You need to reassure them.”
“Okay, I’ll do that.”
“Then Érico and Carmen showed up; Carmen wasn’t feeling well. It turns out she’s pregnant as well, much to their surprise!”
“Wow! I’ll have to congratulate them as well!”
“And there’s more! Yestersol Eve Gilmartin discovered she’s pregnant!”
“I thought they didn’t want children.”
“Well, they do now.”
“I guess so. Wow, maybe I should go away more often!”
“I suspect we’ll hear more pregnancy announcements. We haven’t had any for a while, and conjunction marks a good time to start trying for a family.”
“I’m tempted to say something at dinner tonight, but I suppose I shouldn’t; the people who have decided to remain childless or unmarried will complain about my bias. Maybe I can start by admitting my bias and congratulate everyone.”
“That might work, you sentimental guy. This’ll be good news for the Commission, too, after the crime stories dominating headlines about Mars lately.”
“That’s true.”
“How was the trip to Cassini? I read in the Los Angles Times that they elected the same civic government as Aurorae’s.”
“Yes. The eleven of them were surprisingly favorable toward a civic authority. I had thought the Warners were planning to leave, and maybe Munson, but now they’re all planning to stay at least one more columbiad, so they feel a stake in making Cassini a pleasant place to live. Curry was in favor; he thought it’d make Cassini a stronger community and competitor for funds. The one difference is that they favor formation of a Borough Council once Cassini gets too big and complex for town meetings.”
Martha laughed. “They’ve been talking to their friends here! We’ve been having town meetings twice a month and we’ve still got months of items on the agenda. I think the people in favor of having the town meeting do everything are beginning to come around and accept the idea that the meeting has to appoint committees to digest matters for the meeting first.”
“It’s getting ridiculous.” Will glanced up and saw Ruhullah Islami outside his door. “My next appointment has just arrived, so we should finish up.”
“Oh, I’m finished with my report.” Martha rose from her chair. “See you at lunch.” She headed out of the office.
Will rose from his chair and followed her to the door, then welcomed Ruhullah. “I’m glad you could make it. I know you’ll be heading for Tharsis tomorrow.” He sat in a chair in the front of his office and Ruhullah sat next to him.
“Yes, the expedition there is the one that’ll head for Elysium. They’re excited about going, too, even though they’ve been unraveling the tangled volcanic sequences making up Arsia Mons. We’ve got the plans mostly put together; it’s the fastest planning for a major expedition ever.”
“There’s so much data and so many previous proposals, it’s relatively easy,” said Will. “But I didn’t call you here to discuss Elysium. Remember our conversation, some time ago, in the patio, when you asked whether there was administrative work you could do? Well, I need someone to replace Daniel Shapiro to watch the finances, oversee the accounting of the exports, and help administer things. If I remember right, you even have some accounting experience.”
Ruhullah smiled broadly. “I do indeed! My parents insisted I major in business; it wasn’t until graduate school that they let me switch to geology!” He laughed. “Maybe that business training will be useful, after all. I do remember accounting; all too well!”
“So, you’ll do it?”
“Yes, sure! I’d be glad to. Thank you, Commander.”
“You’re welcome. From your management of expeditions, I’ve seen you can do this sort of work, and besides; you asked.”
© 2004 Robert H. Stockman