In the 27th year post Great disruption and the Basic Income revolution, in timeline DFL70709102-C614 for planet Nearth, Ruthie Kazurdle and Angie Bajanji sat around a snack tray on a table in the patio next to Flo Floogle’s Flying Food Kiosk and Canteen, looking across the central square of the Karelis cohousing community in the Dirigia protected zone of the former NITzone successor state of the Centralian republic on central continent, planet Nearth, toward the assembly hall entrance to the community centre.
A large number of people, many of them agitated, began to spill out onto the plaza. Zoomie Whacker and Flender Splitz emerged from this crowd and walked toward them.
“Here’s Zoomie and Flender.” Said Ruthie.
“Hi, Ruthie and Angie” said Flender.
“Hi, Angie and Ruthie, “ said Zoomie.
Angie; “So, Flender, what’s your impression of Foolish Fridays at community councils in Dirigia protected zone?”
Flender; “General Petitions committee. Still processing it all. Lots of strange people who don’t like the way their world is evolving. But the ones with something sensible to ask got listened to respectfully. Zoomie handled it with aplomb.”
“That’s my job. I try to do it right, “ said Zoomie as she flipped her Dextik into Flo’s slot. “A brain worker’s platter, Flo dear. I need to replenish my brain cells after this afternoon’s work.”
The dextik monitor flashed a price, taxes and container deposit in ZPC; zone provisional currency.
Flo; “On the way, Zoomie dearer.”
Zoomie; “How’s your new business doing?”
Flo; “Good location. People not cooking for themselves now. Can’t keep up with it. I need to hire somebody to help, but good help…” She turned to deal with another eager customer.
Flender; “Before I forget, Ruthie, here’s your Noolian waffle pan back.”
Ruthie; “Was worried ya’d take it ta Frostia with ya. How’d the party go?”
Flender; “Ruthie, I would not leave you without a Noolian waffle pan, knowing you like them so much. I would express it back to you. But I’ve stayed an extra week to finish my study of local councils in Dirigia.
The rest of the class graduated, did our graduation party, which was hearty, and took the flight to Frostia. Now our work begins.”
Zoomie; “We’re not actually Dirigia, not yet. The Dirigians voted to call themselves that last year. They’ll let us decide on whether to merge with them next year. Real nice of them. Til then we are just the occupation and reconstruction zone.”
Flender; “I would not complain. You could be getting occupied and reconstructed by the Vancherians.”
Zoomie; “Yowps! Angie told me about you and your friend’s dramatic escape from the cannibals. What’s going to happen in Moominia, Mominian?”
Flender; “The way it’s going, there won’t be anyone left in the Vancherian state except Vancherian stroodges beating each other to death because they haven’t worked hard enough.
First of all, “everybody either WORK! WORK! or starve to death” is not a viable economic policy. It does not get any work done. What happens is that everyone either starves to death or flees. The flood of refugees is starting to be a very big problem for Frostia and other states bordering on Vancheria.
Second, as their economy declines, more extreme factions are gaining dominance. It’s harder to moderate their behaviour through blockade and embargo…have to threaten to take out some perpetrators from the air…sometimes carry out the threat.
Interference from the Blazebian powers are not helping things. They want to keep fights going, wreck whatever they cannot control…however…
I think this Point Plunkem sea battle, where the Dirigian navy sank these Northian ships from extreme range, that’s going to put a, um, big curb on the Blazebians, the old league states.”
Angie; “Yes, it has and will. It doesn’t matter if they have ten times as many ships as us if we can blow them right out of the water before they see us coming. It showed them what would happen in an all out war. It seems to have convinced them to get out of our way, stay away from the Vancherian coast.
You’ve been learning, Flender. You’ll do well as part of the transformation government when that comes about.”
Flender; “I’ve had some good teachers.”
Zoomie’s platter was plopped before her, carried all four meters from Flo by the flybot. She said; “So, Angie, you’re teaching now at this new Blotsky institute? Convenient for you, just a few stops up the movitrak™ line from here?”
Angie; “Just part time. Also doing curricular development. Right here is one of my star pupils.”
She and Flender smiled at each other.
“I am still at external economic aid department but it’s been scaled back. The big lesson from the experiences with the former South Eastlandia and a couple of other territories is that real economic development is futile until oligarchic power structures have been cleared out of the way and social government is in place.
Does not have to be socialist in doctrine but committed to the public good, not elite interest. Frostia is a good example; nominally conservative but committed to social aims.
But that’s what Blotsky institute is all about. Training people who can go back their own territories, organize removal of abusive government, build pro social governments.”
Flender; “It’s time for me to head back to the institute. I’ll be on the plane to Frostia tomorrow morning. May we run across each other again, Angie and Ruthie.”
Ruthie smiled. Angie said; “That is very possible. I’ll be going to Frostia myself in two weeks, to the Moominia resettlement zones. I will help with a conference on establishing a demogrant in a post Vancheria Moominia. We believe we can keep the Niftians and Normals, the Hennie Flaxbender people, on the same page.
Things are looking brighter for you Moominians.”
Flender; “I think so, Angie.”
He and Zoomie faced each other and clasped hands. “It’s been a privilege to watch you at work, Zoomie.”
Zoomie; “Good luck to you and to Moominia, Flender.”
Angie; “All Nearth needs are more level headed and conscientious people to take up the vocation of transformation workers.”
“And trained to do the job.” said Flender as he turned and headed for the movitrak platform.
There was some fresh commotion across the square. Zoomie craned her neck. “And we need fewer wobble headed opportunists who think they have a,…an inherent right to their delusions and to impose them on everyone else.”
From across the street came; “Yes, we know you’re with a big TV network in New Ogid. That doesn’t give you much credibility here. We have monitored the slant you have been putting on your coverage here. We see no reason to allow hostile actors to make propaganda against our state.
Your permit to work here is revoked, your cameras are confiscated, you’ll be on the next train back to New Ogid. No, you are not in any danger. Your equipment will be returned to you at the border.”
A garishly dressed, pudgy woman stepped around this commotion and waddled toward Zoomie.
Behind Zoomie and friends Eva Squoops quietly ordered a Squoozian style herbal tea from Flo and sat down in a corner of the plaza.
Zoomie; “Here comes Snollie Goster. You two have met her?”
Ruthie laughed. “Ya. She walked in while we were havin’ a frontyard barbecue with some neighbours. Said she owned the land our houses are on. And most of the Land in Karelis.
She won it in a divorce settlerment with her husband, some trillionaire investor with secret assets all over everywheres. Then she had to track down where all his assets were.
Some of it was land right where we used ta live before the war. Before the mass ext…ex-pro-pree-a-shun.
She ended up stayin’ for dinner.”
Snollie Goster laughed; “Yeah. Hello again, Ruthie and Angie.
I got the court here to decide I had title to it all. But they are only going to compensate me according to their idea of ‘use value’. Still a lot of money.
So now this petitions committee, here, approves giving me a cash settlement, no tax on it.
No one can own any land here, they just lease a lot to put a house on. They say they’ll give me first option on a lot.
And, wow, they even recommended me for permanent residency here. A big capitalist from New Ogid.
So, Zoomie, last step is this…transitional authority? I’m thinking of moving down here, at least part of the year. I’m finding it’s a real interesting place.”
Zoomie; “Well, Snollie, I’m pretty sure the authority will give you residency. They usually go with local council recommendations. And you had a just case at court.
Of course you’ll have to live here at least part of the year.
You’ll have to start a business with the money or put it into a Vastorian fund, like all the millionaires here…
Alternatively, you can take the money out but you would have to take it through the Exreg system, get a big markdown on it.”
Snollie sighed. “This I know, dear, this I know.”
Angie; “What is your impression of the court system here?”
Snollie; “It’s efficient. They didn’t let me use lawyers; had to come in and present my own case. Not a single judge, but a panel of judges, asking me up, down, sideways about how I could trace where the slurzy strank had hidden his money through all these shell companies.
With a little help from the Dirigian intelligence people, actually.
Everything just gets right to the point in these courts. No nonsense. A lot cheaper, less stress, for everybody involved. Must be hard on all the lawyers here, though.”
Zoomie; “I think most of them have found other occupations. Some of the more mediocre ones are trying to make livelihoods convincing people they can influence our system of government, like the ones over there. We discourage that.”
She gestured across the street, where a cluster of slickly dressed individuals with briefcases bemoaned their frustrations with the present order of things.
Snollie; “Skrank lawyers. I think you guys have a better system. Get rid of them for most cases, let judges do what they’re paid to do; judge.
That committee in there is pretty effective, too. It’s just like a jury. Ordinary people chosen at random. Like any town council, people ask them for things, staff makes recommendations, they decide.
Hey, hey, girl! Bring me one of those buffleburgers. And a Snortian purple wine…you do liquor? Nyah, so just bring me something wet and sweet.”
Zoomie; “With our courts,…ah, put it this way, it also takes a good system of monitoring judges; make sure they’re competent and on the square, stay on the square, apply the codes right.
That’s done by the court watch council. They also recommend what changes need to be made to the codes. They’re also chosen by sortition, at random. A branch of the territorial council. They do have to report to the transition council…
But it’s way better than the system we had before. When judges are left to make the laws, they usually make them real bad.
I’ll finish my chow. I think they’ll need some, ah, leadership over there in a few minutes.”
“I AM BEING PERSECUTED BY A COMMUNIST POLICE STATE.”
“C’mon, Holy Rollie. You are free to leave at this point.” said the chief first responder on the scene.
Holy Rollie fell to the ground and rolled, making a holy commotion. “I FORBID…IN THE NAME OF THE BEEZLIAN ENTITY, LORD CREATOR OF ALL THAT IS, FORBID YOUR IMPIETY..YOU WHO BELIEVE IN NOTHING…”
“Like you’ve been told in there, Rollie. You can believe anything you want. You can’t use religious ideas to make money, create followings around yourself. You must report contacts with hostile foreign media, government and non government entities. I have gone as far as I can with you. I have no power to order you to leave. But the security services already have an order.”
Rollie began singing tunelessly about the Beezlian entity. The first responder stood back. She gestured to the section C security people, who nodded to the constabulary who had been standing by, who grabbed Rollie by the feet and began dragging him down the steps.
“PERSECUTION BY IMPIOUS COMMUNISTS…OUCH! BEEZLIAN ENTITY WILL REPAY IN THE END…OUCH!”
Said the first responder; “ We don’t know why you bother, Rollie. The only news camera here is from Common Voice. Do you get off on this kind of thing?”
“THE BEEZLIAN ENTITY, YOUR CREATOR, OUCH! FAITHLESS RED TYRANTS…OUCH!”
Said the top constable present; “You are free to walk to the van, mister High Holy…”
The Flybot was on a mission to the far side of Karelis community, so Flo delivered Snollie’s order the ten steps to her, Dexiter in hand.
Snollie; “No tips box with this thing?”
Flo; “We don’t usually do that here. Don’t normally do live table service either. We usually try to give everybody good service anyway. Including bossy people from New Ogid.” She smiled pointedly.
Angie; “So that was our public order system in action. Instead of armed meatheads showing up for every little sidewalk situation, we have the first responder service, the Fressies. They are not armed and have no arrest powers. But they show up first when there is a problem and decide what is needed.
If they can’t resolve it they call in the appropriate service. Fire, ambulance, animal control, psychological intervention, so on. If something might become violent they call in the constabulary. The constabs can only act on orders from the Fressies.
Only the state security people can override the Fressies, and they have to have a good reason, file the reports, so on. They did not, in this situation.
And Rollie is not going to a police station. He goes to the duty magistrate. On duty, as in at all hours. From there he will be released until trial if he can listen, and to the detention centre if he can’t.”
The flybot returned to its dock. Flo put the next order in and it rose into the air again.
Snollie; “A whole fleet of those things operate here. They’re very efficient, lots better than the system we have in Ogid. They don’t need a wave three network to operate.”
Angie; “Yeah, we ended ground based delivery for small packages, human and robotic. Too much of running people over on the walkways. We do not need a wave three system because we have perfected really autonomous bots.
Our government runs all transport services, runs the delivery system here, so that different systems do not conflict with each other, don’t collide midair with each other. Flo leases her own skybot from the network.
Of course toy drones have been restricted, so no collisions.
Wave three was bad news anyway. Now the outland tech industries are trying to revive it, calling it wave four even though it’s the same thing. Too much background radiation is generated to control these things because they are not really robots anyway; not autonomous.
All this to try to get people to think they are autonomous, when they are really being controlled remotely by people halfway around the globe, working in awful conditions.”
“Skrank Pluto Gazillion!” Said Ruthie.
Snollie and Angie laughed.
Snollie; “So it’s three years since you people started building this…development. Just razed what was here before. When did you two move in here?
Angie; “Every one of us here, also Flo the kiost keeper, at some point lived in a huge and badly run social housing complex near here. It was badly damaged in the war. Everything before then was poorly planned and built…designed for cars and not people. It was much easier to just build it all over again in a more sensible way.
Ruthie and I came back here two years ago now. We had been working in South Eastia come Moominia, until that blew up. We had to be evacuated.
We had saved enough to buy a good modular house outright. We took out a residential lot. Since then all we’ve had to pay is the lease on the lot, which is what funds most local government here.”
Snollie; “The prefab construction here is incredible quality. And you can move it to another site easily if you need to move for employment.”
Ruthie; “We got a real nice little house with a big enough yard for Kassie to play in. I can grow spices for my cooking, and lotsa nice flowers again.
It’s close to where we work. The institute’s just down the tube and Gassy Greenhouse built a whole new comp..complex…, to go with Karelis. Biggest reason we came back here. I can walk to work most days.”
Angie; “Governance is still a little rough here. We have a mix of people from Dirigia here because lots are getting filled up there, they’re running out of space. There are also a lot of NITzone people here who have not caught on to better ways of living yet. They don’t understand the Demogrant, or real democracy.”
Ruthie; “Workin’ at the greenhouse, it’s hard to hire’n train good people. A lot of people here think; okay, I got my demogrant, I can just live on it, don’t have to take all the skronk anymore. After a couple’a years it gets boring, they want some more money.
But a lot of ‘em, they been unemployed so long, or in make work jobs, contingerent jobs… so they don’t understand regular jobs. They just wanna do it when they feel like it.
’Nother problem; people who‘re frantic ta work a hunnerd hours a week. They wanna make money. We had people like this in Eastia, I mean Moominia, now. They don’t get it that they get inerfishent after too many hours. They harm their health. They’re always real hard to work with. These ones, ya gotta get ‘em to… slow down a bit.
Then there’s the ones…always want more money. They don’t get it that wages gotta be kept reasonable so… It’s like, here’s the… e.con.om.ic… strategy for Dirigia. We got low wages, a Demogrant, real good services, so business stays comp…competertive but people still Iive good.”
Angie; “All the surplus value can’t be just sucked up by a ruling elite. That is the problem with capitalism. Our way is that the surplus goes back into building up the productive base.”
Snollie; “Ruthie, you’ve been working in that cooperative for awhile. You’re a full member with a vote on the management council?”
“Yeah, but I waive it so I can be on the union local committee.”
“Why does a coop still need a union? It’s owned by the members.”
“Workers are still workers. Like, still need their… in-ter-ests…representered. Still need staff of their own, to help…show alter, …al-ter-nat-ives…to the management.
Big issue now is staff management. Like, in the greenhouse business it can be busy n’ then slow. Not good, hirin’ so many temporary people, ya wanna get people committed, improving their skills. We’re learnin’ how…
Ooh, these guys again… ”
Angie; “I see some rough government developing, Zoomie.”
A group of four people who had left the assembly hall earlier had been sitting in a far corner of the patio, quietly but intently discussing, and consuming nothing from the food kiosks. They had come to some resolution and now marched past Ruthie and friends toward the community hall, carefully avoiding Zoomie’s eyes.
Zoomie gulped down the last of her drink and took her containers over to the bin.
She said; “I think some leadership will be required over there soon. This bunch cannot accept that they can’t just go on endlessly trying to reverse decisions they don’t like.” The bin informed her that the container deposit was back in her account. “Tada!” She said, and trotted across the square.
Angie; “So, Snollie, there is the problem with trying to run a real democracy with people who are not used to it.
What oligarchies call democracy is what it is, oligarchy. The fact of oligarchies is that factions fight endlessly to get their own interests protected at everyone else’s expense. In ancient times, this is what really led to democracies, as in the Flothenian republics. The people took over to stop all the conflicts before they destroyed society.
In modern times, it’s harder for the public to control the private interests. When a real democracy is established, it absolutely requires socialism, or the interests will tear it to shreds.
But people are still used to the endless power struggles. They can’t understand democracy as an efficient system for arriving at the optimal policy for the…for the greatest good to the greatest number; that everyone has to accept that decision unless there is a good reason for revisiting it.
It’s like this; normal people hate debate and debaters. A real democracy requires commitment from the public; they have to put a lot of their time and energy into it. People will just draw back if their effort is not respected.”
Snollie; “I think I can understand what you mean. My ex husband, the sleazy snake…ah, I can’t get into that.
But I spent a lot of time unravelling his business dealings to get some of my divorce settlement out of him. But what it was mostly about was…stop anyone from doing anything unless he got a piece of it.”
Snollie sighed pensively. “One reason I’m thinking of staying down here…he just might decide to retaliate against me.
But if it looks safe I have a business idea. Before I married I ran a small boutique selling sexy socks. I could start that again, with several locations in different countries. I could run it mostly from here. Most of my suppliers would be down here. You people are really good at design and specialty production.”
Angie; “Yes, when I travel I often notice a need for more sexy and affordable socks.
You can get a lot of government help here in getting a business going. Flo, here, finally got tired of working for sklerxy bosses and got a microcredit loan to start her stand.”
Said Flo as she cleaned up after a messy customer; “Nowadays, if you’re in the kitchen trades, no point workin’ for nobody else. I just wish I could hire a reliable spare hand, to do some of this…”
Angie; “Maybe if all the food stands here cooperated, they could rent a bot to do cleanup.
Hello, Eva.”
Eva Squoops sat her herbal tea down beside Ruthie and then sat herself down and examined her hosiery. “Yes, Nearth needs more sexy socks.”
Angie; “Eva works for the Dirigian government. She’s helping us locate a missing relative in another country.”
Snollie thought a moment; “Why don’t you meet her in an office somewhere?”
Eva; “That makes some people uncomfortable. Also, if I went to someone’s home, the neighbours might start gossiping. Especially here in the old NITzone, where people’s heads are still full of splurx.”
Snollie; “You’re… not with the secret police, are you?”
Eva put her finger to her lips. “It’s a secret.”
Across the street, the aggrieved quartet was ushered out of the community office by members of the constabulary, with Zoomie, a fressie, and one other individual watching closely through the window wall.
Angie; “I think their grievance is they are not being allowed to continue their former occupations as influencers. That does not work in a real democracy. Public perceptions are formed in the public assemblies, not in privately curated forums.”
Snollie; “Some people will compare that with the doctrines of the old Bolshlovians.”
Angie; “We can’t control the associations some people make.
But it is just like with the lawyers; it’s something there was a demand for under oligarchy. People to sell the narratives of special interests, or who could build a following around their own narratives, then sell that.
In a democracy there is one truth, one information ecology, built around the popular assemblies. Yet these people still think they are absolutely essential to democracy, instead of an impediment. Telling them otherwise is like telling Holy Rollie that the Beezlian Entity is not real.”
Snollie; “Doesn’t look like they’re being arrested. Guy on the right looks like some kind of secret service… Are they going to get surveilled, bothered in any way?”
Eva looked into her masklet; “Not my department. But I think they’re being ordered to stay away from the community hall. Monitored…maybe, if they start connecting with foreign intelligence services. But usually we have better things to do with our time.”
Ruthie; “Here comes Kassie.”
Snollie; “Ah, you guys have some family business…so see ya later.
I might take up that corner lot down the street from you. We’ll become neighbours.”
Ruthie; “We’ll hold a ‘welcome to the neighbourhood’ party for ya. Lotsa Noolian waffles.
Don’t forget to turn in yer tray.”
“Uh, yeah.” Said Snollie as she walked her tray to the garbogator, which beeped its approval of her new habits.
Ruthie; ”We might get her trained ta be a real Dirigian.
Wazzup, Kass?”
“Hi, Auntie Ruthie, Angie.” Kassie Kazurdle sat in the space Snollie had vacated and looked curiously at Eva.
Ruthie; “Kassie, this is Eva Squoops. She’s an old friend. Works for the government. She may know something about your mom.”
Eva; “I am not going to tell you she is still around, Kassie. Don’t be too hopeful.
You still have the pinkitwing your mom implanted?”
Kassie held up her pinkie finger.
“We always thought it was strange that your mom disappeared in the teleporter but you came out. Both of you should have disappeared. Do you remember?”
“We went into the chamber. They told us to stand a little way apart. Then a kind of door closed between us. Lights flashed like I was being teleported but I never went anywhere. The pinkitwing went dead. The door opened and Mom wasn’t there.
But she’s still alive. I keep telling everybody this, nobody will listen.”
“It’s not guaranteed she’s still alive, Kassie. But we always had suspicions about where she went. We didn’t say anything because we didn’t know enough and couldn’t do anything. You had to get on with your life.
But now we have some information we can act on. We know there are people being held against their will in New Ogid. People who are experts about strings, interspace, and…Queezian organisms. There are bad people who want to make some kind of weapon with these things.
We have other ways of tracking the place where these people are being held, but if you could get within range of your mom’s pinkitwing it would confirm where these people are. And that she’s with them.
There is some danger to this. Angie and Ruthie will need to come along. The people doing this will not be happy about being caught at it. But lately the New Ogid government has reasons to…not want to make Dirigia…angry.
Do you want to help us to rescue these people being held in this place? Remember, I can’t guarantee your mom will be there.”
“Yes, yes, yes! I know my mom’s alive! If she’s not there then she’s somewhere! She must be in New Ogid! She must be!”
A few days later, Angie, Ruthie, and Kassie stood on a sidewalk in front of their hotel in New Ogid city, New Ogid. The day was cool and cloudy. They were about to be given a tour of the ‘Santenland Satisfactory Urban Residences for Basically Incomed Persons’ Development Initiative. The New Ogid information office had organized this tour for those delegates to the Pan Nearthian conference on New Economic Initiatives Toward Nearthian Reintegration who opted for it.
The autonomously piloted tour coach arrived slightly behind schedule. Their tour guide and her assistant descended from the vehicle and introduced herself as Nonnie Plust. Her assistant was left anonymous but proceeded to check each delegate’s ticket and fix a numbered halobadge to each. She muttered in Nonnie’s ear that fewer delegates than expected had turned out for the tour.
The badges were to insure the safety of each delegate. The numbers were a new official policy in New Ogid, so as to avoid any gafes about identify or gendering. A few delegates responded that they did not find this necessary; they always knew where they were, as well as who and what they were.
Angie and family remained silent as they became delegates 11 through 13. They boarded the coach as Nonnie looked quizzically at them.
Once the delegates had all entered to sparsely occupy the plush coach, Nonnie sat down beside Angie, conferring briefly with her blablet, and spoke thusly; “Okay, as I understand this now, Angie Bajanji, you’re with the Pareto Institute in Dirigian occupied zone of…Centralia…researcher, political theorist…author of some papers and articles about…uhm…
Conference delegate…and, you’re interested in studying Basic Income systems, perhaps Dirigia will create one of its own…and you are officially invited on this tour of Santenland…”
Said Angie, delegate 11; “Until we have something better to call it, it is the Dirigian occupation zone of former Bangstoppel treaty South Centralia.
We actually have a pretty good Demogrant system but we are curious about how other countries have developed their own, ah, Basic Income systems.
I know your security services have me flagged as possible trouble because of some of my writings. Of course oligarchs and people serving them will find much of it upsetting but…let them refute it. I am her to observe.
Also, we assure you that we are not going to, ah, contaminate you with microbes. Contrary to what you are told in your media, we have largely eliminated infectious diseases, except when new ones are introduced into our territory. And we get those under control pretty fast.
We have all gone through level A immune boosting procedures before being allowed to travel abroad.”
Said delegate 13; “Actually, I just might be carrying some rare Dirigian communist germs. You better disinfect my seat after. I think you should all wear metamasks™. I wouldn’t want you to catch something and die…”
Nonnie; “Ah, no. This shuttle has a high quality air system installed. I am sure there are no issues. However, if anyone aboard feels uncomfortable you are free do use… further protection measures.
Charming child! Your daughter?”
“My niece. She lost her mom so she stays real close to me so I don’t get lost too.” Said delegate 12.
Kassie turned to studying her bright pink mobile device. Nonnie noticed it was not a blablet, and did not look like the comvec devices in use in some states outside the Pan Nearthian League. Perhaps it was just a toy…
Said Nonnie; “Yes, I have a little boy about the same age. I don’t think I would bring him on a…” Her assistant tapped her shoulder. ”…but we need to get started…” She took up her position at the front of the coach.
Two other delegates wore some type of protective masks, but no others took up Nonnie and Kassie’s suggestions. Nonnie welcomed them all on the tour and began explaining the purpose and itinerary.
Interstate tensions had recently increased. The consensus of all progressives was that the solution is to increase international cooperation according to the consensus toward cooperation and need to restore the League of Nearthly Nations. Toward that the Pan Nearthian council on progressive Pan Nearthly cooperation had convened this convention on Pan Nearthly cooperation.
One important aspect of Pan Nearthian consensus and cooperation was the need to eliminate serious poverty and disengagement from society by impoverished Nearthian people in progressive Nearthly nations. Thus the need to develop cooperation and rules regarding universal establishment of a Basic Income.
Thus the conference was being held in New Ogid city, the financial centre of the League of Nearthly Nations. Within the state of New Ogid, a progressively progressive model Basic Income program has been developed which must serve as a model for Basic Income programs among progressively aligned Nearthly Nations. The progressive aim of this Basic Income program was to assist those of the population whose inadequacies make them unable to be engaged in the automation economy which was developing all over Nearth.
The shuttle bus suddenly lurched forward then swung hard around a tight corner. Nonnie was knocked onto the floor. She pulled herself back into her jump seat and saw that the rest of the passengers, being more securely seated, were only slightly perturbed by the abrupt start.
Nonnie apologized profusely to her passengers for the abrupt start while her assistant pecked at her blablet, trying to contact the supplier of the autocoach. She began to introduce the itinerary.
After some years of applying a Basic Income in New Ogid, progressive social planners were not slow to notice that many people with limited alternative sources of income had a difficult time affording accommodation as the housing market catered primarily to the higher value population.
An enlightened and progressive solution was found, in that surplus populations were assisted to be moved from employment areas to areas of lower rent and service costs. Since surplus persons are not needed in the high tech automated economy, there is no need for them to be living in high cost areas of the central city.
To make it easier for surplus citizens to move to lower cost areas, the original Basic Income system was progressively improved. Socially Compensating Refundable Units (SCRUs) were issued to assist Basic Income dependent persons with some of the problems resulting from dealing with all regular living expenses through the use of regular currency. Such funds were sometimes spent unwisely. Shortages and price inflation of various basic commodities sometimes occurred.
These SCRUs could be dispensed in designated areas of concentration of non employed persons, eliminating any need for them to travel outside their area, and making it easier for services to be organized for them locally.
As well, the SCRUs had to be spent within the month of their issue, by their issuee, so as to insure their correct use. This also made it easier to organize rationing of certain basic commodities which were often in short supply, and to deliver them through specially designated retail outlets.
Gradually, more of the Basic Income allowance has been delivered in SCRUs and less in regular currency, thus making the program more affordable. For example, most community and recreational services within concentration areas now require SCRUs as payment. This enables such services to be delivered directly, eliminating any need for private sector providers and keeping costs of living for surplus persons, and costs of progressive government social services, to a minimum.
Unfortunately, as numbers of surplus, Basic Income dependent, non employable persons increased due to technological progress, space began to be limited in controlled housing in these limited income designated areas. The solution was to plan and build entirely new special neighbourhoods for surplus Basic Income dependent persons.
Said Nonnie; “The model for these new areas is the Santenland development, which we will be visiting this afternoon. Our first stop will be the recently opened Flarinesco artistically vocationed people’s special housing cooperative. This is a completely new concept in housing design for creative people who are dependent on a Basic Income, who require space in which to work while they develop their, ah, creative abilities…”
The autocoach began to weave from side to side as it went at a high rate of speed down its designated lane. The passengers were shaken.
“Perhaps we should get a human driver for this vehicle.” said delegate 4.
“We have one.” Sneered delegate 3.
The autocoach braked sharply for no apparent reason and then proceeded more placidly.
Nonnie again apologized for the technical issues and assured her passengers that her assistant was in contact with the transport provider’s operation centre regarding possible malfunction of the self drive system. Behind her, the assistant pecked at her blablet with obvious frustration.
The second stop on the tour was to be the Ot-Theg Special Residences for Specially Adapted Persons complex. This was also a recently opened facility, specially designed for the needs of specially adapted persons in need of special adaptations to their special emotional needs.
It was emphasized that this complex was not intended merely for persons requiring pharmacological interventions of an emotional nature. Nor are people assigned there based on any criterion of political tendencies.
Asked delegate 2; “So, they are being medicated only because they are too sane for life in New Ogid?”
Nonnie; “No. I resent that aspersion. New Ogid is a fully democratic society. No one is persecuted here for their political orientations. Only some residents of Ot-Theg are benefiting from medical interventions of a psychotropic nature. In most cases other means are employed to deal with issues some residents may have…”
The autocoach came to another jolting halt.
Said delegate 7; “More driving lessons need, drive self bot!”
There were some rumblings of amusement and agreement throughout the vehicle.
Soon Nonnie announced; “We are now at the entrance to Santenland…we are being given priority clearance through the Access Securing Monitor Service. We will be at…”
The autocoach lurched forward again. Nonnie continued to cheerily discuss the benefits Santenland has for its residents, due to its intelligent and humane plan.
The next jolting stop was for a discernible reason, as several people wandered out onto the roadway in front of it. It then proceeded at a slow pace, a fender moving out of the way those pedestrians who were not motivated by the klaxon and flashing lights.
The curious delegate 4 asked; “Who are these people wandering all about? They look as though they are impaired in some way.”
“Well, this is an unfortunate but necessary feature of any special residence zone such as Santenland. Many of the residents will have different mental or physical abilities…”
Said delegate 3; “And there are no special facilities for people who have difficulties in looking after themselves? They are just left to wander around?”
“The uniquely humane and enlightened policy of New Ogid is to treat such people in the community…”
Delegate 2; “A uniquely cheap and expedient way of dealing with them would be to dump them into areas such as these and let the community cope with them. They do not seem to be having their needs met in any way…”
A Santenlander threw a bottle at the shuttle, which broke against a window to no effect. “THE OVERCLASS MALES ARE TRYING TO FORCE ME TO SPRONK THEM!”
“YOU WISH, YOU FAT SOW!” Opined one of her Santenland neighbours.
She repeated more insistently that overclass males were trying to force her to spronk them.
“Auntie Ruthie, remember when we visited Happyland boulevard in Portlandia, in Southeastia, uh, Moominia? Well, the gooney birds here are way scarier.”
“We’re safe inside here.”
Kassie went back to examining her comvec. She began moving it in an arc around her while waving her little finger.
Nonnie noticed this and was curious; “That is an interesting type of… device you have there, Kassie.”
Kassie replied, glancing at Angie; “It’s a new kind of comvec, especially for kids. Auntie Angie gave it to me for a birthday present.”
Angie noticed that delegate number one was also curious about Kassie’s comvec, and that delegate number 9 had noticed that delegate one was interested.
Soon Nonnie said; “We are now at the Flarinesco… and we’re going a little past it…”
The bus made another gut wrenching stop and began backing up.
“Ms. Tour guide, your autopilot needs to wake up.” Said delegate 4.
“Of course, it’s actually the snooze sellers at Borg corporation who have trouble staying awake,” said the jaded delegate 3.
There were more rumblings of agreement on the bus, and some tappings on blablets and other devices.
The bus found the gate to the Flarinesco complex, which slid open, and the tour was driven into a central courtyard to stop beside a small amphitheatre. A group of Flarinesco residents were waiting there to greet them.
The delegates filed out of the autocoach and admired the ring of tall and narrow buildings around them, connected by elevated walkways. The courtyard was crowded with murals and sculpture of many styles and of variable artistic merit.
A woman walked forward. Nonnie asked her; “Are you Puff Huffter?”
She said; “No, my name is Doozie Shifter.”
Doozie turned to the delegates. “Good afternoon. I am Doozie Shifter, the chair of the resident’s council of this complex. We have decided that we are better able to present about conditions in this complex than the public relations facilitator, Ms. Puff Huffter, an employee of the information ministry.”
Nonnie; “This is not acceptable. These are official delegates attending an internearthian conference. Such an irregularity can have diplomatic consequences.”
Doozie continued; “Feel free to not accept and have your diplomatic consequence. We’re not here to insult anybody. You’re all safe here. We want to insure that the truth about this complex and about Santenland in general is told right…and so that maybe better policies about Basic Incomes and social provisions can happen in New Ogid. And everywhere else on Nearth.
Some associates of ours, who work at Borg Corporation, have found a way to get control of your tour bus. We‘ve arranged some changes in your itinerary. Various organizations among Santenland residents would like for people to talk to you about the realities of Basic Income in New Ogid. From their own experiences. ”
Nonnie loudly objected but was talked over as several of the delegates expressed interest in this change of plans.
“I am frustrated by this highly curated approach. I would have preferred to be allowed to simply walk about this area and speak with its inhabitants.”
“You are suppressing these economically disadvantaged members of your society.”
“People effected direct, to hear from, more useful is.”
“I am concerned about the anarchistic behaviour here. However, most of us are on this tour out of frustration with…”
The delegates began to sit down on the stone benches of the amphitheatre while Nonnie’s assistant pecked fiercely on her blablet, trying to summon additional security.
A curious delegate 4 asked Doozie; “What is the rent in this place, paid in what currency?”
“Rent here is essentially free. Each resident is a registered recipient of the New Ogid Universal Guarantee and receives a residential amount from the directorate in the form of internally circulating value units. These go directly to the administrative office of this complex to cover operating costs.
Of course, since it is very hard to get this subsidy moved to a different complex, we are all fixed where we are. This kind of arrangement is getting to be…near universal in Santenland.”
An even more curious delegate, whose holobadge had disappeared, shouted self importantly; “Do the residents have any control over management of this complex?”
“Theoretically, resident participation in management is mandated. In reality, in most complexes, it’s a mockery. Uneducated and disempowered residents are unable to deal with managers who are trained in…manipulation.
But we artistic people here, we have been creative about how we deal with the managers of this complex. We want it to be, as far as we can make it, a cooperative in fact as well as in name.
So, we cooperated to take charge of public relations here, and tell a different story than you might have expected. My apologies, Nonnie dear. Our presentation won’t be too long. I am sure you delegates will find it very informative and bring our words back to your governments and organizations.”
Doozie stepped back and introduced the two presenters who controlled the holoprector image which now appeared over the amphitheatre. Several delegates politely applauded. Others sat, slightly nervous but interested.
Nonnie looked uncomfortable but clearly felt she had no choice but to go along with this temporarily. She looked to delegate number one, who had wisely decided not to intervene. They whispered together and agreed that their outside communications appeared to be blocked. However, they had an alternate way to get through to the right people.
The first presenter, Petra Chyzzle, very artfully described her experiences with trying to find studio space within which to produce her life sized giant oglebeast sculptures. She was forced out of the central city by high rents. This meant she could no longer exhibit her works in her own studio, but had to rent a gallery space and cover the cost of moving her massive sculptures around.
Petra was persuaded to move into the Florinescu complex soon after it opened by the promise of a large studio loft unit and free space in the gallery connected to it, in which to exhibit her work. What she found was that she could only sell through the dealers authorized by the gallery managers, who found buyers for her work but kept most of the proceeds.
Her oglebeast sculptures had a ready market. They were great things for children to play on and for adults to place on their front lawns to impress the neighbours. However, their creator was just getting by, the cost of necessities was not cheap in Santenland, and she was unable to get enough real money together to move anywhere else.
Petra turned the floor over to a Noolian fusion synthesizer musician, Toon Zapper, who began to tell an even grimmer story.
Within the complex was an excellent recording studio. He and his band could record their music and create all sorts of great backing effects. However, they could not make any money selling their music, or by live performances.
They could play at parties or sell their material on internex platforms, but they were unable to reach a mass audience. It seemed you could not really make a living unless you signed away control of your work to the large promotion companies.
The Basic Income system allowed them to survive, but to live beyond a mere survival level they had to keep working. They really did not have the option of refusing to take what was offered. If they did not, there were plenty of other bands also needing more income.
The real problem was the cost of everything, and the monopolies on all forms of creative arts promotion. The Basic Income and the housing support system seemed to be a cheap way of preventing mass destitution while creating a pool of cheap, on call talent.
“The Basic Income system in New Ogid ended mass starvation and homelessness, but it did not end capitalism!” ended Toon with a flourish. The audience applauded his ripping performance.
Kassie Kazurdle became once again very interested in her little finger. Ruthie led her away in search of privacy. One of the complex residents noticed them and pointed to a door; “In there, to the left.”
They found the lavatory stall reserved for cisgendered female homosexuals to be occupied. Ruthie decided to be a transgendered female instead. “Snurxin’ outlanders, still doin’ this goofy shlorp here..!” muttered Ruthie.
When they were sure they were alone, Kassie waved her little finger across her comvec and showed it to Ruthie. “She’s here. Really here. She was behind some kind of barrier. Now she’s movin’ around somewhere. She doesn’t know I’m here yet.”
Ruthie slipped her masklet out and tapped it. “Okay, let’s tell Eva and Sterk.”
Outside, Doozie Shifter spoke; “So you see, we are the surplus population and we have been brought under tight control. We are trapped where we are. We’re just a slightly privileged part of the cheap, on call labor force. Yet some of us still have to work at such less desireable employments as…”
“Snooze Sellers! At Borg corporation!’ Said Twyst Bendie as he doffed his hat and bowed his head to show the interface implants on the top of it.
“Some of us can no longer work at our original art. After my back injuries, I had to give up on street busking as a contortionist. Now I’m stuck with some of the worst employment in Funny Money land, er…, Santenland.
Next on this tour, if we can get away with it, we will take you to the Ot-Theg complex, for people with all sorts of mental disabilities. Right next to the Borg building, elevated causeway between them.
Lots of these people are actually real bright. But they’re stuck ‘remoting’ slaughterhouse and sewage bots, plugged into the wave three net through these… We gotta have these shkrankin’ things stuck in our heads, be on call at all hours. Usually for two and a half SKRUs an hour; not even real money. We can’t spend it as we please. We can’t save.”
Ruthie whispered in Angie’s ear, and Angie nodded. She blinked at delegate 9, who blinked back.
Nonnie Plust interrupted; “But Mister Bendie, you must understand there are very limited options on how to provide for the population made redundant by automation.”
Doozie intervened; “What we are demonstrating here is that most of this automation is a sham. If they really had developed advanced automation, why would you need all these people controlling bots remotely by brain waves? Why don’t you just pay people to work. What’s the logic?”
Kassie again clutched her finger and was perturbed. Delegate number one noticed this.
Angie stepped between Kassie and delegate one, and interjected into the discussion; “Ms. Plust, I must point out that in our zone, and more so in Dirigia itself, we have few unemployed people, in fact a labor shortage. This despite having the most advanced robotic technology on planet Nearth.
The truth is, when any artificial intelligence develops beyond a certain level, it becomes unreliable unless directed by a human intelligence. It develops a mind of its own. In Dirigia we call this The Sympathetic Problem.
So in order to make all this work, you need this wave three technology, these relays everywhere, to connect your Snooze Sellers to your fake bots. All so you can maintain the delusion that you are creating real bots and dispensing with real labor.”
Said a Sagacious Delegate; “As well, it seems that Basic Income, combined with fake automation, as applied in New Ogid, is a means not of replacing labor but of more tightly controlling it; of delivering labor on an ‘as needed’ basis, without the costs of maintenance and reproduction of that labor, or of the inconvenience of accommodating the human needs of said labor. A quite invidious system indeed…”
Doozie looked toward the art gallery exit from the plaza, and moaned in dismay. “Aw, Rantz, how did you get in here?”
In answer to her question, two men with the look of New Ogid Public Security Services followed Rantz through the door.
Rantz bellowed; “HAVE YOU PEOPLE NOT UNDERSTAND YET THAT YOU ARE ALL BEING CONTAMINATED WITH SALT?”
Doozie; “This guy is here to harass us. Someone like him turns up where ever people here try to hold a meeting. His two handlers, see them over there, are from the Santenland Complex Police.
“THEY’RE POISONING YOU WITH SALT! THEY FEED IT TO YOU IN ALMOST EVERYTHING YOU EAT! SALT IS A CORROSIVE! A CORROSIVE!”
Doozie; “Floro people, remember, don’t get provoked by him. You can get charged with assault for even the slightest…try to ignore him.
Delegates, we can continue on the autocoach. We have a way of keeping him from getting on.”
Doozie and several Flor complex residents walked onto the autocoach.
“SALT IS BEING SPREAD EVERYWHERE ON THE SURFACE OF NEARTH!IT’S IN THE OCEANS! NEARTH IS BEING CORRODED! BY SALT! SALT!
Kassie picked up a pebble from a rock garden next to the amphitheatre and put it in her scarf to make a sling. She cocked an aiming eye at Rantz.
Ruthie grabbed the sling from Kassie’s hand. Angie showed Ruthie her comvec and said; “From Eva. There’s a way out of here, past the perimeter barrier; through the art gallery over there out onto a main road.”
She made a quick eye contact with delegate nine and began leading her family toward that exit.
Delegate one began following them. Delegate nine intercepted him, flashing an identification. Delegate one immediately got the message and headed for the tour coach.
The confused public security officers watched him as they let Angie, Ruthie, and Kassie walk past them.
Delegate Four said to Nonnie, as he gestured to Rantz; “Congratulations, Ms. Plust. A great method for suppressing public meetings of all kinds without seeming to be responsible.”
Delegate four boarded the autocoach, tossing his holobadge over his shoulder. Nonnie looked indignant, hesitant, then began urging the last delegates to board as well.
“SALT IS MADE UP OF TWO HIGHLY POISONOUS ELEMENTS. PEOPLE GET A CRAVING FOR SALT IN THEIR FOOD. ONCE SALT IS INSIDE THE BODY IT SEPARATES INTO THESE TWO…EEEE!”
Rantz doubled up in pain. From within the autocoach, through a small window opening, a Floro resident pointed a device at him. She grinned malevolently.
Doozie waved to Nonnie, who boarded last, and the door swung shut. The coach started to turn and exit the complex. The Florinesncu residents waved goodbye to it. “Have a good trip, everyone!”
Rantz shreiked after it; “SALT MAKES FARMLAND STERILE! IT ROTS EVERYTHING! NEARTH IS IN DECLINE, BECAUSE OF SALT! SAAAAALT!
Angie glanced back at this from behind the tinted glass doors to the Gallery. She turned and led Ruthie and Kassie toward the far exit. Along the way she pulled off their holobadges and trashed them.
“I think these delegates will have an eye opening trip. It seems to be what they wanted. But we have more important business, right, Kassie?”
“Mommie’s alive! Mommie’s alive!”
They walked down a concourse lined by spaces displaying many types of artistic works for sale, and exited to a sidewalk and boulevard. Kassie again clutched her finger and focussed intensely.
“Mommie! She’s stopped moving around. Now she knows I‘m here!”
Ruthie and Angie looked over Kassie’s shoulder as she worked her masklet.
Angie; “Can you triangulate her? The way Eva showed you?”
“She’s somewhere in this university. We have to get to her quick. They’re going to take her somewhere else. Bad people are keeping her!”
Ruthie; “Here come Sterk and Eva.”
Sterk and Eva pulled up in a big black car. Behind them was another big black Car with two more people in it.
Eva opened the rear door. “Come on Kassie, let’s go find your Mom!”
The little convoy made an illegal turn and headed back up the boulevard. A little further back smaller dark vehicle made the same maneuver and followed them.
Sterk Snappler drove on. “Good afternoon, Angie, Ruthie, Kassie. It seems the game is in play. Behind us are our associates, Jand and Sembo.
And behind them are our opposition. They know we’re up to something, but they don’t know what. There isn’t much they can do about it. And they have to be very well behaved, these days.
But we‘ll have to move quick.”
Eva; “Okay, Kassie, we’re going west. How is the azimuth changing?”
Kassie ran her finger over her masklet. Then she showed it to Eva. “She’s right there. She wants me to come, quick.”
Eva to Sterk; “She’s in that secret research ‘building of mystery’ on the Panglossian University campus. The same place where they’re holding Franker.”
The cars began to move through narrow streets in an old and decrepit part of New Ogid city. The masklet tracking applications now pointed them toward Handie Kazurdle but they still had to deal with the maze of streets.
“No, no, that way!” Said Kassie.
Eva; “This isn’t a revgrav, Kassie. Remember, stay calm. If you get excited you make mistakes and you might not get your mom back.”
The cars turned up a laneway and stopped in front of a nondescript door in a nondescript building.
Kassie jumped out of the car. “Mom’s behind this door. Someone is with her… wants to come out too.”
Eva pulled a device out of her trenchcoat and scanned the door. “Two people behind this door, seem to be waiting for us. The door is double locked…”
Someone began pounding on the other side of the door. Kassie began pounding; “Mom…, Mommie? I’m here!”
The smaller car pulled up and and two men jumped out of it. They carried small collapsible automatic weapons which they unfolded and waved around in the narrow laneway space.
Sterk jumped into the space between the wall and the second car, while Jand and Sembo jumped out to prevent their passing on the other side, and to shield the people at the door.
“C’mon Hermshitz, we’re not armed. What do you think you’re going to do with those sneezers? They’ll ricochet like crazy in here; you’ll probably kill yourself before us.”
Hermshitz and friend hesitated. “We can’t let you do it, Snappler!”
“Do what? We’re bringing out someone you’re holding against her will. You want to explain that to the Peace Commission? We. Are. Not. Armed.”
Another vehicle roared up the lane. A woman jumped out and shouted “Hermshitz, stop! I’m Maze Glister, foreign ministry special explanations department. We have to let this go!”
“You can’t direct me. I have level three authorization on all foreign intelligence actions on…”
Maze shoved her blablet in front of his face. “I have level three dash three authorization. The story is; Kazurdle is not being held prisoner here. She worked on our…p-projects secretly but v-voluntarily.”
“Point the barrels down, boys, we’re not armed, listen to Maze,” said Sterk as he gestured behind his back for Eva to hurry up and for Sembo to go to assist her.
Jand moved closer to Sterk, facing down Hermshitz’s assistant sneeze gun slinger and sneeze gun.
Kassie turned from this and resumed pounding the door with greater intensity. It still did not respond to her methods. “Mommie! MOMMEEEE!”
Eva’s device suddenly produced better results. The door slid open. Standing behind it was a woman carrying an infant in her arms. A man stood behind her.
“Hello, Kassandra. You’ve been a good girl since I’ve been away, have you?”
“Uh…Hi, Mom…”
Suddenly the door slid shut again.
“Oops!” Said Squoops, and resumed working her device.
Hermshitz and Glister continued debating as to who worked for the more powerful bosses, while Sterk maintained his opinion that Glister’s advice should be heeded and the guns put back in the car.
The door slid open again.
Said Squoops; “Everyone in the car, quick. We’ve gotta get out of here.”
Kassie’s mom went to the open car door with her infant. “My husband is bringing our luggage.”
“Oh, splarx! Yes, bring the luggage.” Gasped Eva as she turned to pop the trunk lid of the lead car.
Kassie’s Mom’s husband started bringing several large pieces of luggage into the lane. Eva hustled the passengers into the car while Sembo quickly loaded the spacious trunk.
Hermshitz’s low speed mental processes reached a conclusion and he and his helper put their squeeze guns in their car. Then they abruptly went at Sterk and Jand with fists.
Sterk employed some Skulbagian hand fighting techniques and laid Hermshitz on the ground. Hermshitz’s helper declined to repeat Hermshitz’s experience and stepped back.
Eva threw the last piece of luggage into the trunk, slammed the lid down and jumped into the front seat of the car. She barked; “Sembo, drive.” as a vehicle from another branch of New Ogid security services arrived.
As security personnel and their firearms poured from the vehicle, Maze screamed at them to put the weapons away and make a non injury causing arrest of the Dirigian invaders. They complied.
“Burn rubber, Sem” shouted Squoops. Sembo burned rubber to the end of the lane. He put a big dent in the side of a third New Ogid security services vehicle which arrived just too late to seal off the lane.
Squoops; “Shpranx! Head for the embassy, Sem. Go through these side streets to get to Friedman Avenue.”
The dented New Ogid security car followed them closely through the tree lined residential side streets.
“Are they angry at us?” Asked Kassie’s Mom’s Husband, as he craned his neck to see behind.
“Yes, I believe they are,” replied Handie Kazurdle.
“Hello, everyone. Let me introduce us. I am Handie Franker, nee Kazurdle, mother of Kassie. This is my husband, Doctor Fern Franker, and here is my my son, Fluss Franker.
And I presume you are my half sister, Ruthie Kazurdle, are you?”
“Yah, its me. Hello, sister. Here’s my Husband Angie Bajanji. Uh, doctoral candidate Angie Bajanji.
Oh, ah, I kept my own last name.”
“Ah, yes, one of those kind of marriages. How enlightened!
Sem threw the car into a screeching two wheeler turn which shook the passengers slightly.
Handie; “Oh, my. Driver, could you avoid shaking us up so much? I have an infant in my arms. I think he’s waking up.”
Sem; “Strooze…flixen…arg…”
Eva; “Ms. Franker, we are being pursued at high speed by people who want to return you to the captivity you just escaped from. I suggest you let us manage the situation.”
“Ah, yes…”
The pursuing car rammed them, shaking them up further.
Said Eva to Sem; “What solutions do we have for these jokers?”
Said Sem to the whole car; “Actually, a very good one. Hold on, everybody!”
Sem tapped a ‘select feature’ icon on a console. Then as he threw the car into another sharp turn, he pressed the ‘execute’ button on the steering wheel. A tank under the car sprayed a puddle of superslip™ fluid onto the roadway.
As the pursuing car tried to follow the turn, it skidded off the road, spun, and tail ended into a large tree trunk.
Kassie; “Hooray! Hey, that was a cool trick! Did you guys invent it?”
Sem now slowed down a bit. “Here’s Friedman avenue. We’ll be at the embassy in a few minutes. Hope everyone’s enjoying the ride. Splrx!”
“So, Kassie, here is my husband, your new stepfather, Fern Franker.”
“Urm, ah, hello Kassie…Kassandra Kazurdle. Pleased to meet you.”
“Uh, hello….uh, …Mr. Franker. Pleased to…meet you.”
“And here is your little brother, Fluss Franker, who is now woken up by all this excitement.”
“Hi, Fluss Franker. Pleased to….”
“Gyah wurg vup…” said Fuss Franker, and looked to his mother.
“Why did you have him?”
“Why, for the same reason I had you, Kassandra!”
‘Uh, yeah, okay…”
Said Eva, looking into her masklet; “Sterk and Jand are alright. They got roughed up a little. The opposition let them go with a…stern warning. They’re on their way to the embassy.
We’re all staying at the embassy until this calms down. Ruthie, Angie, Kass, your bags are on their way from your hotel. Situation is now under control.”
A low rumble of relief rolled through the crowded interior of the car.
Eva looked again at her masklet. “It’s not over quite yet.
For the information of you three, the agent we shadowing you on the guided tour, Durfyx? He’s in a situation.
It seems the department purple guys from New Ogid Deep Security did not like the stunt these Santenland residents pulled. They’re trying to arrest several of them and Durfyx is making a protective…under section eleven ten…”
“Seven eleven.”
“Yes, thanks, Sem.
Section Seven Eleven, chapter three, Dirigia external affairs regulation…persons under threat of persecution for…”
Angie: “Oh, thank heaven for Seven Eleven.”
“I hope they get pertected!” Said Ruthie.
“Grg…pfrrrgnl…” said Fluss.
Planet Nearth spun around twice, and Angie, Ruthie, and Kassie sat in a glassed off observation gallery, looking down at a media theatre within the embassy of Dirigia in New Ogid city. Beside them sat Doozie Shifter. On Ruthie’s lap, Fluss Franker snoozed.
The theatre was filled with journalists from all over Nearth, and numerous cameras were pointed at an empty stage. A large holoprector image of the empty stage hovered over the empty stage.
Kassie sat, staring quizzically at Fluss. Then she noticed Bard Wonkle walk out onto the stage. She said “Here’s Bard Wonkle!”
“Hello, welcome. I’m Bard Wonkle,” a giant Bard Wonkle said from the holoprector to the audience.
“I am, or rather was until this afternoon, head of the Dirigian delegation to the Pan Nearthian conference on New Economic Initiatives Toward Nearthian Reintegration, which has concluded this afternoon. I am also attached to the embassy here.
I have to announce that Dirigia will participate no further in this process. Rather, it will seek alternative models of PanNearthian cooperation than what is proposed by the governments of New Ogid and Northia. This is a decision taken by the full delegation within the guidelines given us by the external relations council of Dirigia.
Dirigia has maintained that the renoozit plan and the New Chance initiative represent no useful way of resolving the post Great Disruption problems on Nearth, or of fulfilling the promise of the Basic Income revolution. Rather, they appear to be about reestablishing the same conditions which brought about The Disruption and Collapse.
I will not here discuss our reasoning. Our full report will be forthcoming, which will be of a piece with external relations council’s previous documents on the subject of Pan Nearthian relations. Our position is still that a PanNearthian government is a bad idea. It will keep leading to new crises such as the Great Disruption and the lesser disruptions which preceded it.
We and our allies believe that a cooperative model of managing interNearthian problems would work better. However, most of these problems are the result of the persistence of oligarchic governments on our planet. For obvious reasons, cooperative solutions are abhorrent to the oligarchic mentality.
For that reason, the government of Dirigia has maintained at the Wadawidoo conferences that progress on the persistent pan PanNearthian problems requires the disestablishment of the remaining Oligarchic regimes, and of the dissolution of all remaining secret networks and the private banks and foundations they work out of.
Not only the peaceful progress, but the continuing existence of, the Nearthian peoples clearly depends on an end to Oligarchy, to this holdover from the feudal and industrial times. Nearth can no longer tolerate those with the idea that they are a divinely ordained hereditary class with a divine right to rule, thus the right to do anything to regain and maintain control. In particular, the Blazebian fellowship whose centre is in this city.
Nor can we tolerate those who consider themselves the upholders of an inhuman ideology, one which gives them the right enslave others in the name of a warped understanding of economy. Such are the Vancherian Overmen who get their inspiration from the Laizifarian institute in Vancheria city, as it is now named.
There were many causes of the great disruption, but one of the greatest was the destructive rivalry between these groups. I point this out here to try to preempt the idea that opposing the Blazebians means participating in Laizifarianism. They both are enemies of humanity and both must equally be eliminated.
All these Oligarchic powers were greatly weakened by the disruption and non capitalist states were able to emerge. The Blazebians are, of course, merely the old Metricellars who have renamed themselves and are trying to resume their old aim of establishing total control over Nearth, and sharply reducing its population.
They are still the same people with the same mentality and the same methods. They never seem to give up on their basic aims.
However, they are having even less success than before. They have recently suffered some sharp military defeats. Their economic power is declining; they must depend on those they want to subdue in order to produce what they need.
Of course, this has been a dilemma for plutocratic classes from feudal times.
Their attempts to regain control are becoming more rash, more destructive, more dangerous to life on Nearth. Their very harmful interventions in the Vancherian situation are one example. Their mass disinformation and indoctrination is still effective even outside their sphere of control, to the detriment of individual mental health and collective stability all over Nearth.
However, the prime reason why the Blazebians must finally be ended is their continued efforts to develop and use weapons of mass mortality. Again, they never give up on it.
We believe we have now removed all nuclear materials and equipment from their control and put them back where they belong. However, bioweapons facilities are harder to trace and shut down.
Dirigia has developed excellent defences against biowar and have shared them with all of Nearth. However, the lab created diseases are becoming an increasing problem, effecting social and economic stability, and food production planet wide. These are deliberate attacks, clearly aimed at those states which refuse to allow access to their economies by the private banking networks.”
“GOOD AFTERNOON! RIPSEY SKRANTZ, ALL NEARTHIAN NEWS NETWORK OF NEW OGID!
IS A RENEWED MILITARY ATTACK AGAINST PAN NEARTHIAN LEAGUE NATIONS BEING THREATENED HERE? IS THIS UNDER THE PRETEXT OF A NON EXISTANT BIOWAR PROGRAM IN NEW OGID?”
“Hello, again, Ms. Ripsey Skrantz from ANNONO. As per the introductory notes, we are not taking oral questions today. You have directions on submitting written questions.
However, this brings me to the main point of this news briefing. Dirigian intelligence services have now obtained proof of a program by old League states to develop, not just bioweapons, but metabioweapons.
There have been rumours of this for awhile. There is debate about how effective these weapons would be. There is some opinion that they would not work, while other scientific opinion is that they would be even more dangerous than nuclear weapons.
However, a secret metabioweapons program is being operated by the League of Nearthian States legacy governments. They have gone so far as to abduct specialists in these fields to force them to work on these projects.
The proof of this is now walking up behind me; doctor Fern Franker and his wife, Handie, who were recently rescued from their captivity by the New Ogid deep state. They will confirm their statements which are now being distributed to you. Please check your devices. Hard copies are available on request.
Welcome back to freedom, Fern and Handie.”
Bard started the applause as she backed away to the stage wings and Fern and Handie filled the holoprector.
“Why, thank you very much, you kind people,” said Handie, curtsying slightly.
“I thank the security services of the Demograntian…oh,no. It is Dirigian republic now. I thank them for reuniting me with my precious child Kassandra.
Also, they have introduced me to my half sister Ruthie, whom I had unfortunately never seen. And of course, her husband Angie, whom it has been a pleasure to meet.
I look forward to travelling back to my home in the Dirigian republic, as it is now named, and which I have been away from for too long. My dear husband, Doctor Franker, whom I met while in captivity, and has never been in that part of Nearth, will be travelling with me. With of course, our infant son Fluss.
My goodness, we have to get our lives going again! Doctor Franker is originally from Frostia. I believe we will soon travel there, as well. I may have an offer of a position at the University of South South Western Frostia, one in my field of Queezian organisms, and he in his field of multiverses. Oh, but enough about my future plans. It is so good to be out of captivity.
Speaking of that, I am really not pleased to have been kidnapped and held in captivity for five years. Especially, by such foolish people and for such foolish reasons. You were all very nasty people, you were.
And it is very nasty of you, for you to even think about what you were trying to get me to do. This is so even if what you wanted was not possible.
Let me explain very briefly about Queezians. They are actual living things which exist within what physicists now call strings. Strings are the force effects which exist between widely separated particles. They allow things like teleporters, or the alert systems of these new comvecs, to operate.
Queezians also exist inside the nucleus of our neurons, our brain cells. They enable living things to think. They tie the physical world together by creating patterns along and between strings.
There are many types of Queezian organisms, as there are many types of strings. They serve a function, which we do not fully understand, if we ever will, in regulating the universe. They are very hard to study because whenever they are observed, they simply reflect a mirror image of the observers perception back to the observer.
My scientific specialty is studying the special type of Queezians which concentrate around living organisms and create consciousness.
My husband studies the multiverse, the concentrations of conscious energy which exist in the seemingly infinite universe. A universe of worlds, in other words. The multiverse seems to be held together by its own type of extra long strings, along which travel Pullman wavicles.
We use the term ‘wavicle’ because, like with many things subatomic, it is never clear whether it is a wave or a particle.”
Said Fern Franker; “Or, um, they may be reflecting back to us whatever we would like to see at a given moment. This is, um, why I have suggested designating them as narcissisticles…, with due apologies to Doctor Pullman.”
“Yes, dear.
What the very silly people in this “project freeze frame” of the “special research group B”, who had imprisoned us, were trying to do was learn how to use Queezians as a weapon. They wanted to be able to freeze the thinking of selected groups of people.”
Roared Ripsey, as the ANNONO cameras focussed on her; “YOU WERE NOT HELD PRISONER BY THE NEW OGID GOVERNMENT. YOU VOLUNTARILY PARTICIPATED IN A TOP SECRET RESEARCH PROJECT. YOU HAVE BEEN BLACKMAILED BY THE SPY SERVICES OF THE COMMUNIST TOTALITARIAN STATE OF SO CALLED DIRIGIA…
THERE IS NO SECRET WEAPONS RESEARCH BEING DONE IN NEW OGID. WE STUDY METHODS OF DEFENCE AGAINST THEM. YOU ARE NOT SPEAKING FREELY HERE…”
Most of the reporters in the theatre cringed away from her, some glaring at her with disgusted expressions.
Bard made a gesture toward the security people standing close to Ripsey and her camera operators. Ripsey glowed but remained silent and gave signals to her camera operators and some other collaborators in the theatre.
A transparent barrier descended from the ceiling. Bard signalled to Handie that the sonoprector was now on.
“Is it on? Yes. I hope no one is offended by us speaking directly into your heads. If so I will desist. Otherwise, I believe we now have an adequate solution for any more interruptions by this objectionable person.”
Angie was twinged by her comvec and read it, then showed it to Ruthie, who smiled.
“Now, I am indeed speaking of my own volition, as is Doctor Franker. We were held prisoner, I for five years, Doctor Franker for three. We met several other people who were also coerced into cooperating with this project.
Our full statements about this are being circulated to you all. The purpose of this press conference is to confirm that these are our words. We are asked to respond only to written questions so as not to compromise the Dirigian intelligence service’s ongoing investigations. There are people who are still being held and who could be in some danger.
As I was saying, Queezian organisms simply to not work that way. They do not. They are guided by a set pattern or template. If anything goes wrong within their network, or any set of Queezians goes off the template, the other Queezians cut them off from their energy flow and they disappear. I mean, completely vanish without trace. A new set is generated to continue that part of the template, in conformity to the master template.
Thus there is no way to create artificial Queezians. There is no way to alter their pattern at a local level. These patterns seen to be set at a very deep level, possibly at a multiversal level.
This is how my own work ties in with that of Doctor Franker. As I said, he studies Pullman wavicles. He and some of his colleagues have found evidence that the universe is regulated by a system of these strings and wavicles. I might call them paths and messengers.
There may be an indefinite number of worlds interconnected by the Pullman wavicles. Due to the effects of this system, these worlds all conform to a similar plan, but all will also have differences due to local conditions. In order to be able to adapt to these conditions, some degree of random variation, of flexibility is also possible within these templates.
Doctor Franker has a theory that the Pullmans are a type of Queezian organism, which may perhaps regulate other Queezians. The foolish people who were trying to weaponize Queezians thought that the Pullmans may be the key to creating controllable Queezians.
They also developed the idea that if they could cut off Nearth from the multiverse they may be able to better control events on the planet to their advantage. These people had so many strange ideas, and were so obsessed with control, control, control…”
Said Fern Franker; “If I may interject here, my dear…I, um, would add that these people…due not to religious ideas, but to a hostility to religion, that is to say, um, perhaps, antireligion, wanted discussion of Pullman wavicles and the Multiverse…to not be permitted within, within most forums or…”
“There are established religious groups who want these concepts to be suppressed as a threat to their particular dogma. But our captors were worried that this knowledge could inspire new forms of mystical religion.”
“Yes dear. That was part of it. But a second motive for suppressing public knowledge of these phenomena are, urm, that public awareness that…the operation of reality outside of conscious control, of human…Shall I say…,”
“The thing which most frightens these people is that they may not be able to gain total control of perception, and thus of the world. The existence of Pullmans implies that they can never control and shape the world, that there will always be an alternative to their ideologic constructs. Therefore, if they could not use Queezians for their purposes, or alternatively cut Nearth off from the interverse, they do not want knowledge of them to become common.”
Shrieked Ripsey, through a handheld mini sonoprector; “YOU WERE HELD BY A GANG OF CRIMINALS AND RELIGIOUS FANATICS. THESE PEOPLE HAD CONNECTIONS WITH THE TERRORIST GROUPS DIRECTED BY THE COMMUNIST STATES! YOUR SO CALLED ‘RESCUE’ WAS STAGED. YOU ARE A DUPE!”
Much of the audience cringed, and some fled the theatre, as the two rival sonoprectors created unpleasant effects in their heads.
“Yes, Ms. Skrantz. That is your name, is it? You have certainly invented enough stories to explain away our account, haven’t you? You can use whichever you want. However, I had access to some very exclusive research facilities. This project clearly had the support of the highest levels of the New Ogid state.”
Ripsey had now turned her back to the stage and was ranting into the ONNONO cameras. The security staff began pressing them out of the theatre. Other reporters in attendance were now quickly leaving, many eagerly grabbing up the written reports proffered by the embassy clerks at the door.
Some checked their blablets and other devices, often colliding with each other or the surroundings due to their haste and inattention.
Bard again stepped into the holoprector to say: “This concludes our event. A detailed report and the Franker’s testimony are now available at docuchannel.comvec.handie&fern. Thanks for coming and good afternoon.”
In their gallery, Doozie Shifter stood and stretched, and looked at the other four. “I really can’t understand all this about strings, Queezians, and multiple universes.”
Said Ruthie; “What ya can’t understand, it’s best to just accept.” She softly rocked Fluss.
Angie; “They’re on the way up here. Have you met Bard Wonkle, Doozie?”
“No,” said Doozie as she twisted her torso. “I heard she wanted to meet me. What is she, someone from the Dirigian secret services?”
“No, she’s with the external relations department. Specialization, democratic government development. She’s about to retire from that, become assistant director of Blotsy institute, where I work now.”
Bard, Handie, and Fern walked in. Ruthie handed Fluss back to Handie.
“He’s been real quiet.”
“Have you, my little skoochimelon? Mwah!”
“Didn’t even pee,” said Ruthie as she hung the diaper bag over Handie’s shoulder.
Said Bard; “Doozie Shifter. Recent leader of the resident’s movement in Santenland. Applicant for asylum in Dirigia. Mentioned as a candidate for the Internearthian Leadership Development Program.
Pleased to meet you. I’m Bard Wonkle, acting director, democratic government development, Dirigian embassy in New Ogid.
Fists got bumped.
“And I you, Ms. Wonkle. I’ve heard a little about you from Angie.
Though I should make clear that the Santenland council was never allowed to become a thing. I started the Florinescu residents council, which I think is now broken up.”
Ruthie made room and they sat down beside Angie, who said; “I think Doozie is a prime candidate for the leadership development program.”
Bard; “I agree. I think you need to be out of New Ogid, all the league legacy states, for a good while. Something has shifted in the Governarium in the past two days. A new crackdown on opposition has started.
I’m sure it has something to do with the operations of our special services here. We will apply the usual counter measures to discourage…abuses.
You know the convention on political killing and imprisonment hasn’t held just because the Blazebians committed to play nice in the new age. We have repeatedly made clear that such behaviour will not be waterproof for them. We have means to guarantee that.
So your friend Toon Zapper, and his band, they’re coming to Dirigia with us. We’ll get to hear some live New Ogid style thunder steel music.”
“Petra and Twyst? They didn’t want to come with your… agent.”
“They’ve let Petra go. They’re hanging onto Twyst. We’re not sure why yet.
We do know that it’s you who has really pissed off the purples. You’re the kind of person they are really afraid of. This is why you are much better off in Dirigia. And why you may be the kind of person Blotsky institute is looking for.”
“Blotsky institute is where you train people who are dissenters in non communist states to go back to their countries and organize…?”
“No. First of all, Blotsky has nothing to do with anything military. The Dirigian army and police trains people who can be the nucleus of a new army and police for these capitalist countries. Also, we don’t believe in any kind of guerrilla war.
Blotsky trains people who can go in and provide real leadership, set up truly democratic government, once oligarchic government fails. That is, when the time is right. We think it is very important not to harm people’s lives more than absolutely necessary. To not harm economy and infrastructure.
However, experience shows that it is almost impossible for any country’s people to bring down these kinds of regimes. Without outside help, even if they have some initial success, they end up with something just as bad. People who have lived under oligarchy all their lives can’t just jump up and start running their own institutions.
They need leaders. Leaders do not just happen. They have to be developed. They do not usually develop out of any kind of activism.
People who try to achieve positive change in that way rarely succeed. They are not allowed to. Their mental and physical health gets worn down, or they become coopted, or they end up in jail.”
“Yes, I have been getting a little tired of the…of the game. It’s all one step forward, two steps back. You’re right, the control is so deep you just can’t fight it.
But I’m not sure if I can agree with the new Dirigian approach; building new governments for other countries with the idea of just imposing them…”
“You’ll have to make up your own mind about it. Come to Dirigia, spend some time in the leadership program, decide if you want to apply to join the Transformation Government program at Blotsky.
The Frostians are starting a similar program, but from a more socially conservative perspective.”
“And you’re taking up a senior position with this Blotsky…”
“Yes. I’ve been with external relations for a long time. I need a break from it. Diplomacy, when you are constantly dealing with fundamentally inadequate and externally directed people, as functionaries of oligarchic states usually are… It is emotionally taxing.”
Bard’s masklet twinged here. She glanced at it, stood up, smiled. “They’ll help you with arrangements back in room 211. Gotta go. This embassy is a busy place this week.”
Said Angie to Doozie; “You need to see a different way of living. Most people who come to Dirigia from the oligarch states don’t want to return. Ruthie and I, we came from what was then NIT zone to what was then Demogrant zone…,”
Handie; “Oh, my. Ruthie, he has now woken up and needs his bottom changed. Where would there be a…”
Ruthie grunted; “show ya,” and led the way out the door. Kassie glumly watched them leave.
Fern Franker coughed punctiliously; “So it seems we may be employing the same conveyances to Dirigia?”
Angie; “I think only Doozie is going straight to Dirigia. It’ll be by impulse ship. Not safe to pass through or over Northia right now.
The rest of us need to go straight to Frostia. Also by impulse ship. I have good news for you. You and Handie have the jobs. They want you at the University as soon as possible.”
Angie showed him the message on her comvec.
“Hm, yes, that is good news. I believe that Handie and I must have our own, er, devices soon.
And we will have the opportunity to meet our father in law, Hyrumfus Kazurdle.
As well, I understand you have, um… other, ah, other business in Frostia?”
“Yes, in the resettlement zone, with the provisional Moominian government. It looks like something is going to happen, sooner than expected.”
Doozie; “You’ve been preparing this army and government to move in and take over when the Vancherian occupation collapses.”
“Yes, we are. I know that doesn’t quite fit with the ideas you have about democracy. You wrote a set of historic novels about the old Flothenian republics. I read one of them.”
“Hope you enjoyed it. Although, I’ve begun to realize that my research into the period was imperfect.”
“It worked alright as a summer afternoon back yard read. But, of course, most of the written history of those times is imperfect, because it’s mostly written for oligarchs, to justify oligarchy. I’ve spent a little time looking into the real history of that age. But the revised history of those times was completed only recently by Jon Smyrgle at Heterodox university in Dirigia.
Those old democracies didn’t come about because of a rebellion of the working classes. The rivalries of the oligarchic factions of those times became so destructive that some relatively sane people had to intervene. They set up systems so that the people, those who actually had a stake in peace and stability, were made the deciders.
They developed complicated methods of choosing assemblies by sortition, even keeping the members anonymous, so that the processes couldn’t be rigged. The point of the assembly was to choose qualified people as the public officials, and remove them if they started going off track. That is still the basic model for any democracy.”
Doozie chuckled and shook her head. “I won’t argue with your version of it. How did the republics end, finally?”
“The old Oligarchs never accepted this and kept trying to destroy it. Chaos always suits oligarchs best. But most of the time they had to live with it.
This system mostly worked until the kingdoms developed, and worked with the oligarchs to gradually overcome the republics.
But now I need to discuss something with my family. You’ll get this story in more detail in the introductory courses at the leadership…”
Handie and Ruthie had returned. Handie said; “Kassandra, would you like to hold Fluss?”
Kassie looked surprised, then held out her arms, which were promptly filled with Fluss. Kassie smiled.
Ruthie smiled and said; “We’re all goin’ to Frostia, Kass. Want to come along?”
“So I’m gonna have to stay there, right?”
Handie and Ruthie looked at each other. Ruthie said; “Yer gonna make a real good big sister, Kass.”
A week later, Kass sat in the small and crowded self housing unit, in the minimal government zone (MGZ) of Kranklin island, Frostia, which was owned outright by her grandfather, Hyrumpus Kazurdle, and his partner, Katie Kerstumpt.
Also around the small table, or on boxes behind it, were Ruthie, Angie, Handie with Fluss on her lap, Fern Franker, and Katie’s son, Booey. On the table were bowls of Frostian and MGZ style nibbles and a full pitcher with glasses.
“So, Angie, you work for the communist government in…Dirigia, as it is now?” asked Hyrumpus.
“I don’t think a communist state has ever really existed. Dirigia is a socialist state. I mean socialist in practise and result, not philosophy.”
Hy processed this. Then he said; “You and Ruthie, you own your own house?”
Ruthie spoke up; ”We got a big sosherlist house, modular, real good. I got a nice little yard for Kassie to play in. I can put in a garden, grow spices ’n herbs, and flowers…”
Katie Kerstumpt; “Yeah, I’m sure the gov’ment people have all the good houses in…Dirigible.”
Angie; “We were able to buy it outright from the money we saved working in the development zone in Moominia. Of course we only bought the house itself. It’s modular; we can take down and reassemble it if we ever want to move.
We don’t own the lot. Few people in Dirigia own land anymore. Ownership is declining in the new territories, the south half of the old Negative income Tax Zone, where we live now.
We have a fifty year lease on the lot from Karelis community. In our community, we don’t do big lawns, we discourage cars, we build the neighbourhood around public transit and for walkability. So, utilities can be cheap and efficient. And so, lot leases can cover the whole cost of local government.
And I do not get any special treatment because I work for the government. Our neighbour has a house as good as ours, and he’s a carpenter and construction foreman.”
“Bureaucrat…” mumbled Katie, eyes down.
Booey grabbed some food objects from a bowl and retreated to crunch them and squint at Kassie.
“Ah, what did you say, Ms. Kerstumpt?” Asked Handie.
Hy; “I guess we all have to do what we can to get by. I’m glad my daughters are doing well.
Two of them, anyway.”
Handie; “Have you any news of Berzinda?”
“Last year she was in trouble in Dirigia. She got residency there when the two zones integrated. Then she got charged with embezzlement; something about a scheme to get money for… some people she was with.”
“Fratzin’ communists!” scowled Katie.
Kassie made a move for the nibblie bowls and then slid back onto her box to crunch them and eye Booey.
“Revolutionary anarchists, they called themselves. Frostia wouldn’t let her into the country, even if I signed a custody…and if she agreed to stay on Kranklin. She’s gone back to Northia.
Katie; “Crazy reds livin’ on Kranklin? Hrmpft!”
“I’m sorry I haven’t been a very good father. I just did not want to submit to tyrannical governments, pay taxes to them. So it was made impossible for me to live. I kept getting fined, losing court cases, having to move…”
Fern; “Life must have been difficult for you.”
Handie; “But what was government doing which prevented you from looking after your… families? People have lived all down history under problematic governments. They still found honest ways to sustain themselves and their children, and they lived normal lives.”
Katie thumped the table; “All Government is tyranny! It prevents natural market forces from working. It prevents people organizing spontaneously. If these people want to give in to coercion…but we will not live under tyranny. We will not be sheeple!”
Handie; “Ms. Kerstumpt, this would be easier if you let your husband speak for himself.”
Hy; “You know, I lived in the ‘L’ zone. I participated in many other attempts to found a libertarian society. I have come to think that strict libertarianism is not the way to go.You do need to create some structures…, but it’s so hard and slow to get consensus about them.”
Fern; “It is said that, um, many older people regret the ideas they took up in their youth.”
“It’s working out better here on Kranklin. Really, the Frostian government makes it possible; we use their currency, laws, police. But it’s hard to build a true free market economy when we’re subject to so much external interference from…monopoly capitalism.
We were doing better here on Kranklin, for awhile, Katie and me. Our trading company was… we could move specialty products between states and operate in the currency markets to flow the operations…we could make a living…”
Katie; “The governments started colluding again to interfere with free trade.”
Booey slid off his box and slinked out the door.
Katie; “Where are you going…?
He’s not listening to me!”
Angie; “You would be referring to the five states protocols. We broke the old unified market system and began to organize trade between us in a logical way.”
Katie; “Government interfering with markets…”
Angie: “Actually, we freed our trade and our economies. We stopped importing what we could make at home. We stopped letting the trade managers in New Ogid tell us what to produce and what we could sell it for.
We all built integrated local economies. We traded for what we really needed abroad in our own currencies. To smooth that we build the Linkchain system for interstate money transfers, which private banks couldn’t interfere with. We developed regulated currency exchanges to cut out the speculators, middlemen…”
Hy and Katie looked dourly at each other, and back at Angie. Katie bit her lip.
Kassie slid quietly out the door.
Hy; “But what about comparative advantage?”
Angie; “Anything critical, you want to produce close to where it’s consumed. No one sane would give up local production just to get something one unit cheaper from abroad. Unless they were conned or coerced.
So, there is now less energy consumed, wasted, in shipping things around. We can get most things cheaper and quicker by doing it locally. Microrobotics and 3D printing help this process, too.
So, what we mostly import now are raw materials, and design, and technology. Yet private banks and trade houses can only see this as a slowdown, not as a rationalization.
And of course this forces most small time traders and currency speculators to find other…uh, other occupations.”
“But there’s been no economic growth for thirty years.”
“There’s been no growth in throughput. That’s because Nearth reached the limits of resource potential. That’s one of the things which caused the great breakdown and disruption.
Now, further economic growth comes from using resources more efficiently. This needs new forms of economic organization. This is why the old capitalists can’t see any progress.
Adaptation is out of the question for them. If they can’t extract profits from some productive activity, they don’t see it as legitimate. It’s a competing system so it has to be eliminated at all costs.”
“But what is this new form of economic organization? Some kind of communism…socialism…?”
“It’s really about closing down private banks and setting up public banks which do not have to charge interest. So, there’s no need for pointless growth just to pay back interest. It’s not much more than that. ”
Hy looked slightly dizzy. “But then what is the currency based on?”
“Ah, money. There are more cranky ideas about it than…But very simply, it’s like this; money is what the sovereign power of a country mandates to be the currency. The currency has value because it is needed to pay taxes.
The value of the country’s currency abroad depends on the value to foreigners of the goods the country can produce for export. The best way to equalize trade between countries is for them to trade in their own currencies, find their own balances. There’s no need for a ‘reserve currency’.
I’m sure those ideas will make a lifelong libertarian’s head explode.”
Katie looked like her head was about to explode. Hy looked like his was in danger of imploding. There was silence.
Outside, Kassie finally caught up with Booey and pulled him to the ground. They sat on the grass catching their breath.
Booey; “So you’re gonna (pant) stay in Frostia?”
“Ya. My mom and Fern are getting (Pant) jobs at a university close to here. I don’t know if we’ll come here much. Maybe you’ll come there sometimes.
I don’t like Kranklin island. It’s cold. It doesn’t look like there’s anything to do here. Everything looks real… cheapo.”
“I’m gonna move away from Kranklin as soon as I can. I wanna be a Red. I want the gov’ment to give me stuff.”
“Ya. We’re socialists. We got good clothes and good places to live, good food. Cuz the government interferes with things so much.”
“People on Kranklin are stupid. They say they don’t want government but they’d all starve if the government in Frostia didn’t give ‘em the Basic Income. The Frostia government builds everything here, the libertarians can’t do it themselves. They just argue.
I want to go to a good school so I can go to university in Frostia. I have to fight with my mom to let me go to the Frostian government school here, instead of the stupid private schools.
Everybody’s sick all the time here. All my friends are sick a lot. Because the stupid people here don’t like government doctors and disease prevention. It interferes with their freedom.”
“I hope I don’t get sick from bein’ here.”
Angry shouting came from the Kazurdle-Kerstumpt residence.
“Looks like you’re about to leave.”
Ruthie flew out the door, denouncing libertarianism and Katie Kerstumpt in salty language.
Hyrumpus followed after her, urging her not to end relations with him because of his wife’s intemperance.
Angie urged Ruthie not to become emotional.
Katie emerged, still loudly and unsociably denouncing everything ‘social’. She advanced menacingly upon Ruthie.
Ruthie began pumping her fists, promising to decisively win any engagement that developed between her and Katie, and describing various injuries and indignities she might inflict.
Angie and Hyrumpus interposed themselves between Ruthie and Katie.
Handie emerged, with Fluss wailing in her arms and Fern following. They headed for the roadway.
Said Kassie; “Ya. Looks like our visit’s over.
You got a blablet?”
Booey produced his old style blablet and Kassie scanned in his twaddler address. She sent back her Krackler channel. It didn’t immediately go through.
“Maybe it’s blocked here,”she said.
“No, it’s just slow here. There it is now. This is school twaddler. It cuts off at six o’clock…”
Katie yanked Booey’s arm and pulled him rapidly toward the door, and slammed it shut. Kassie trotted over to where her close relatives stood by the roadway.
Ruthie worked her comvec. “The only way of gettin’ around here is by the unter cars. An’,…none around here, right now…pthatz!”
Said Hy; “I’m very sorry about this. Katie can be excitable…some of her family were hurt by the Bolshlovians…”
Angie; “The Bolshlovians were a long time ago now. We now have plenty of examples of non capitalist economic systems which work well. And do not hurt anyone.
Also, it’s a little hard to know how to deal with someone who denies the existence of society.”
“I…don’t think, anymore…that I would deny the existence of society. I’m anticapitalist, against crony capitalism.”
“I think all capitalism is cronyism. And libertarianism is based on all the same premises as capitalism. It’s just taken them to the ultimate extreme.
They say never discuss politics with your relatives, but you and Katie built your whole life around your political ideas. My work is in political theory applied to government policy. How do we get around this?”
Hy seemed lost.
Ruthie announced that she had located an Unter unit which could take them back over the causeway to their hotel on the mainland. “Its gonna be flarxin’ expensive, peak hours!”
A light drizzle began. Handie looked up; “I do hope they arrive soon.”
Fern; “Mr. Kazurdle, I propose that, um, once Handie and I are settled into a home in Frostia, that you visit us there. We can attempt to find, er, common grounds in better, erm…circumstances.”
“Bring Booey!” Yelled Kassie.
Handie said; “I can forgive it all. Father. I think Ruthie can too, with a little time. But you have to give up on living in an ideology instead of the real world.”
Angie; “This is what I believe in, Hy. That civilization does not generate spontaneously. That’s the central fallacy of Libertarianism. The human species does not have that faculty. Things have to be planned and directed.
People who fight against that are fighting against society and are rarely able to contribute anything useful to it. To live they end up making money in exploitive ways, or committing crimes.”
Katie grabbed Hy and towed him toward the door. “I don’t want to ever see you shrutzin’ reds here again!”
Angie; “I think that’s been arranged, Katie.”
She turned to Ruthie; “We want to see Hy again, do we?”
“Yeah, I do. It’s gonna rain.”
Handie; “Dear father, our hearts are open to you. Ruthie and I.”
Hy waved at the door before Katie slammed it shut.
Angie shook her head. “Relatives!
My own family were so different. My parents were both teachers. We had a nice house and generally got along, conformed with the world…maybe too much. But it was a safe, predictable childhood.”
Handie; “So this is the Kranklin minimal government zone. Oh, dear!
It seems to be minimal everything. The houses are so small and ugly, built so far apart. There are no public utilities. Everyone has fuel powered generators, water tanks or wells…why, they do not even have sidewalks!
But I am glad that Father has a good air purification system.”
She looked down at the fidgeting Fluss in her arms, and adjusted his infant model Optimask.™
Angie; “I think this is our unter, up the road. We’ll still only a little wet.”
Fern: “It is only water.”
Ruthie; “It’s cold water.
This unter is small. Kass, you’re gonna have to sit on my lap again.”
Angie; “Well, I’m glad I’ve visited Kranklin, so I don’t have to come again.
But here is the best place for these people. Frostia has a good government and currency system so it’s able to deliver the right kind of Basic Income. They let these people play out their delusions but insure basic public health and safety.”
They all donned their optimasks, crowded into the Unter, and left Kranklin island.
Two days on, at the exophysics and subspace research laboratory of the University of South South Western Frostia, Ruthie, Kassie, Fern, and Handie with Fluss in arms, were being given a tour of the facility by Doctor Ben Shradle.
“And here is our new Queezian reflector, similar to the one at Panglossian in New Ogid, which you have some experience with. Involuntary experience, I am sorry to say.”
“Yes,” said Handie, “but nonetheless useful experience. It is really unfortunate that I couldn’t have given you some advice on the design of this instrument. It will not be so useful in the way you intended it to be, though useful in ways you did not expect.”
Doctor Shradle looked quizzically at her. “Yes, in science we expect the unexpected. Shall I start it up and show you its control features? I believe they are an improvement on what the Ogidians have done.”
“Please do.”
Shradle tapped some codes into a panel and the roof high set of tubes and panels began to hum and flash.
“It’ll take a few minutes to warm up.
Let’s discuss your positions a bit further.”
He sat on a long, inward curving bench. They sat opposite him.
Fern; “Ahum. I would be able to begin work immediately. My work is more theoretical than my wife’s. I believe you would like me to begin, um, reconstructing my paper on subspace instabilities, which I had to leave behind in….”
Handie; Oh, it seems I am technically on maternity leave before I have even started the job, but I can start some limited work right away. There are some aspects to Queezians I suspected while I was, ah, working under duress in New Ogid. I did not want to reveal them to the (sigh) Ogid ogres, but which I would like to investigate.”
“Pure research is the aim of this lab. If you sign a five year contract with us, you may even take the first year off.
And Doctor Franker, we would like you to begin work right away on that paper. It seems likely to be the most important paper in exophysics in the last decade.”
Ruthie looked to Kassie; “Looks like you and Fluss will be looked after alright here.”
Doctor Shradle; “Ms.Kazurdle, you are in a relationship with Angie Bajanji, the economist? I met her some years ago through Doctor Ernie Ansible, head of the subspace/hyperspace program at Heterodox university. The two are friends. We three had some interests outside pure science…the need to end war.
I would have liked to have met Ms. Bajanji again. She co-wrote a very interesting, controversial article in the Nearthian Scientists for Peace journal, on the idea that eliminating the remaining oligarchy will end any further war.
I am not sure I agree with that but it would be interesting to discuss…”
“Angie’s gone to the special zone, helpin’ the Moominians with some stuff. They’re gonna get their country back from the Vancherians real soon.
I dunno if that’ll end any more wars.”
“So the Moominians will be returning to their own country? They will no longer be the guests of Frostia? That is welcome.”
“It’s all secret so I can’t come along. I’m staying with my sister to say goodby to Kassie, and so I can leave Frostia with Angie.
But yeah, I met Ernie. Small world. Or node. He came for dinner awhile back. Got ideas about people on other planets. Real weird stuff.”
“Hey, it’s not so weird, man. Hello from another planet.”
Two strangely dressed people had appeared next to the main tube of the
Queezian reflector. They glowed slightly.
Ruthie;”Gazeeks! Handie, what are those…”
“Mom…” said Kassie as she grabbed Handie’s hand.
Handie; “Oh, no. Don’t be alarmed. These are just people from another planet; nothing special. Fern has seen this phenomenon before.
Hello to you. I am Handie Franker, here is my husband Fern. We are researchers in Queezian organisms and subspace strings. How may I help you?”
“Cool. We’re, like, Friskans from planet Zearth. I’m Yoko, this is Mick.
We only have a short time to talk before the space slip we are on collapses. We have two things to warn you about.
Like, Zearth is the key node in the universal string system. This system is why there are consistencies as well as differences, in life on the various planets, or as we sometimes call them, nodes. Zearth is also a refuge for the people, cultures, biospheres, from the planets that’ve blinked out.”
Mick; “By ‘blinked out’, we mean, like, disappeared from the multiverse. A lot of nodes, worlds, do that.”
Yoko; “So what Zearth does is rescue samples of the life on other planets which are in trouble. We’re like the multiverse zoo for lost worlds. It’s a bummer, for sure.
We’re called Friscans, after the exact time and place on planet Earth our ancestors were evacuated from. It was called Operation Silver Seed.
Earth was one of the oldest planets. It seeded many of the other worlds, including Nearth.”
Handie laughed. “Don’t tell that to the religious people on Nearth. They have another creation story, indeed they do.”
Yoko; “Gnarly! But we’re on Zearth, which is, like I said, the hub for the universal string system. It’s regulated from here. The different colonies on Zearth rotate responsibility for managing the internodal system. Right now us Friskans are on watch.
So the first thing to warn you about, is to make sure you get rid of your oligarchy, any way you can. We know you were just talking about that.
You can’t have people with the idea that it’s their right to rule and to do anything to stay in control. They have to have all their means of control removed from them, and be separated from the normal population. Bronto important!
Different nodes have done different things to eliminate their oligarchy. Sometimes they were right out killed; downer! Or they were sterilized; ug! More often they were just segregated from normal people. Sometimes their kids were taken away and brought up to try to make them normal.
However it gets done, worlds that fail to do this, sooner or later, they blink out. That’s what happened with Earth, finally. Nearth is in a better position. You got the nuclear weapons away from them. You’ve got a world wide alliance committed to containing them, reducing their power.
But a thing with these kinds of people, they can decide to take everything down with them if they think they are losing control. You gotta look to prevent them doing that.
Like I said, break up all their institutions, segregate them until they can’t cause any more trouble. You really gotta do this.”
Fern; “ This is very interesting. Of course, um, we do have such a problem on our planet. Handie and I, we…um….”
Handie; “We were held prisoner by members of the Nearthly oligarchy, to try to compel us to produce a Queezian or deep string weapon to use on the population of this world.”
Mick; “This gets us to our second warning. You gotta grock this! A weapon like that is practically impossible. But trying to use one could result in instabilities in the internodal system. It would result in your planet being locked out. Certain things would…like…slow down on planet Nearth.
Again, the big danger to you is your own oligarchy. But you need to learn how to use the the forces you are experimenting with in a responsible way. Otherwise, you create instabilities in the internodal which we have to compensate for.
The multiverse is tricky to run and always slightly unstable. Even a space slip like this has to wait for the right conditions. It also needs someone at the other end to start a Queezian reflector like yours.
Sometimes it happens by accident when a…like…convergence of conditions occurs by random chance. Then we pop into another world, like when we don’t expect to and aren’t expected. People think they’re seeing ghosts or angels, and so on.”
Yoko smiled at Kassie; “So, no, little girl. I’m not an angel and I’m not going to take you away to heaven.”
Kassie moved from behind Handie.
Mick; “The slip is startin’ to close now.”
He and Yoko flashed a two fingered signal and said in unison “Peace! Love!”, then disappeared.
Fern; “Hrm. A peculiar gesture…a way of saying goodbye?”
Handie; “I believe they were saying goodbye and wishing us peace and love, dear.”
Shradle; “Yes, we always need more peace and love. But if we had a record of this encounter, we could at least double our budget.”
Handie: “Oh, I think we have the budget we need. We do need to heed the advice of our Friskan visitors. Especially, as regards to preventing wars and ‘blink outs’. Indeed we do.”
Two mornings later, in a Transitrak station in South South Western Frostia, Ruthie, Kassie and Handie sat down on a bench. Ruthie examined her luggage check and slipped it into her pocket.
“All set. I’ll meet Angie at Port Purple and we’ll be on the way home tonight the same way we came, the impulse ship. Hey, Kassie?”
Handie; “That is certainly becoming the main way people cross the water now. Airplanes are restricted in most places because of fuel shortages, and sometimes public health issues. Aerostats were not successful.”
Kassie; “Impulse ships are bumpy. I still hate ‘em.”
Handie; “They are bumpy only in rough weather. We will love to have Ruthie and Angie return in a year or two, once the political trouble is settled down, and Fern and I have a permanent home. Then we will have a proper family reunion.
Ruthie, I can never thank you enough for taking such good care of my child. I see you have grown very attached to her, I do. I see it is hard…”
“Oh, it’s okay, Handie. It’s been good to finally meet you. I’ll just go home now and leave her to you.”
Ruthie pulled a rubber frog doll, in a transparent carry case, out of her side bag, thrust it into Handie’s hands, and hurried away.
“Angie! You come back here, you silly half sister, you!”
“No, Auntie Ruthie!”
Handie and Kassie chased Ruthie down and tackled her. Kassie sat on her. Handie knelt down.
“…better if I just (sniff) went quick…”
Kassie found the snortex box in Ruthie’s side bag and handed her one.
“Auntie Ruthie, I want you to just…, not get emotional about this.”
“Okay.” (sniff, snort).
Handie put the frog doll back into Ruthie’s side bag.
“Ruthie, here’s what I want you to do. You take this frog home with you. Put her back on your frog mantle.
You need two new frogs. At least two. They are just tadpoles. One is a little boy. The other has not been conceived yet.”
“Not (sniff) conceived ( snurfle) yet?”
A curious security guard looked down on them.
Kassie; “We’re just saying goodbye, okay?”
“The morning express to Port Purple is now loading at gate seven,” announced an announcer.
Two weeks later, Ruthie and Angie were comfortably at home at number nine, Melissa Fall road in the Karelis cohousing community. Their guests for the evening were Angie’s twin brother, Barney, and his wife, Bunsie.
They had just finished watching the latest news report on events in Moominia, as it was now called, from Shrep Scribney, for Common Voice PanNearthian News. Angie muted the telescreen and said; “So that’s what Ruthie and I have spent so much time over there about.”
Said Bunsie as she dipped another nutriveg™ stick into her individual cup of dipping sauce; “Ruthie, did you learn to make this incredible dipping sauce while you were over there?”
“No, just people I work with at the Greenhouses. Lots of us really like good, healthy food.”
Barney sipped his glass of Snortian wine. “That news reporter, she was the one you were locked up with by the Blazebs, before the Northian war? ”
“And Ruthie rescued us all. And Shrep and I are good friends. She sometimes interviews me about the economic aspects of…situations.”
Bunsie: “So, they set up this army of Moominians, who had run away from this Vancherian government? In this special zone in Frostia? The Frostian army also came into it, and some troops from Dirigia and Sqoozia?
So when everything stopped working in Moominia, and there was no food or water, they came in? The Vancherian army just ran away back to the north, to their own country?”
“Yes. We were able to move fast enough to stop them from destroying everything as they left, like the Northians did here. We had a provisional government ready, with a trained cadre to get things running again. We had a plan in place, and emergency food stockpiles. We are distributing the stockpiles while we carry out the plan, get things working again.
It’ll be a lot easier than it was after the war here. We used the experience we gained here.”
Bunsie; “Yes. Here, we’re just now recovering from the war, and those crazy Northian blurzzles.
And this provisional government, these Niftians you helped set up, they’ll take over now?”
“Before the Vancherians invaded, there was a deadlocked government in South Eastlandia, as it was called then. They were stuck with this ridiculous system of competing political parties which they called a democracy. These elected people were mostly fronts for hidden interests, no one knew who was really running things, nothing was working.
We supported the Niftian group, which wanted a proper, competent government based on socialist principles. They had no interest in electoralism, but they were gradually becoming allied with the Normal People’s Party. This was led by Hennie Flaxbender, who is now head of the provisional government.
The Normals, the NPPs, have ideas on government that are similar to the Frostians; moderate, anti capitalist conservatism. They and the Niftians worked out a joint program. This is what reasonable people, with seemingly different political principles, do, when they are forced to start cooperating on the practical realities of running a government. They achieve a convergence.
And that’s how the worst part of it ends, finally. Now they can go forward there. Things will get better for them, just like they did here, once pathocracy is cleared away and proper government established.”
Barney; “So now we have to pay to rebuild them, and get a Basic Income going until they can get an economy…”
Angie snickered; “Yes, just like this zone after the Northian war. In Dirigia we had to increase taxes, reduce the Basic Income, to pay for increased defence spending, and for helping other countries overcome damage from the League wars. This was partly compensated for by increased incomes from increased output.
But people understood the need for defence and mutual aid against a common enemy. They understand the danger to them from the states still under capitalism, who still dominate at the League of Nearthly Nations, who want the Pan Nearthian government back again.
Pardon me if I sound like a spokesperson for the Central Governance Council.
But, thankfully, it will be a lot easier to get Moominia going again. You’ve heard it from Shrep; utilities are being reconnected really fast, food and basics are getting to people.”
Bunsie; “And these people who didn’t like the new government, caused trouble in the first days, they’re locked up?”
“These were members of political parties, mostly the Infinitely Left party, who are funded by the League states, finance capitalist networks; the Blazebians, in other words. They have little support from the Moominian public and the new government has very strong support.”
Barney: “You haven’t started a Basic Income there yet.”
“This is the experience from rebuilding this zone. Before you give people money, there has to be something for them to buy. Otherwise, you get black markets and so on…
The provisional government, ProGov, has a currency and ration cards already printed up. They’ll distribute them once they get the transport and distribution problems solved. Once they’re beyond just handing out emergency relief.
And of course, once they have a useful registry of the population, they can distribute a full income, not just survival money. You can’t distribute a Basic Income if you don’t know who you’re giving it to.”
Bunsie; “What’s gonna happen in the North, in the Vancherian’s own country?”
“They’re going to collapse, like all Flaxist regimes to. They’ll be a bigger rebuilding problem than Moominia. But we are making progress on a transformation government for them, and a new army and police.
The time will come. Oligarchic and pathocratic government is being slowly rolled back all over Nearth. ”
Bunsie shook her head and reached for another nutriveg stick; “You sure have an interesting occupation, Angie.”
Angie; “Barn, I visited Mom and Dad the other day. I agree with you that they’re still having trouble coping with the new situation.”
Barney: “Yeah, it’s tough for them. Dad’s pension disappeared along with the old government. The market value on the old house has never come back. They’re living off the Basic Income but that’s little more than bare survival.”
“But they get better health care now, free pharmacy and dental care. A retirement supplement to the Basic Income, as in Dirigia, is coming soon in the zone.
Of course, they have a retirement exemption from property tax. They’re okay.”
“But the house is getting to be too much for them to maintain. They need to be in some kind of care facility.”
“Well, Barn, we have enough of that built now to meet the real need for it. Measures are in place to make sure they’re run right.
Many people are afraid of that because of how it was run under the Centralian government. That was something to be afraid of. Retired and disabled people are a drain on resources, so nothing special should be done to keep them alive. Gyak!
But something now being developed in Dirigia will be started here soon. It’s called home aid. It helps people with physical limitations to stay in their own homes. Mostly, it is about workers coming to homes a few times a month to do routine cleaning and maintenance.
I don’t think Mom and Dad really want or need to give up the house yet. You and I could give them a hand, sometimes. And Betsie. And Bunsie.”
“Well, really …Bunsie and me would like to move in there. We want to start a family soon. It’ll take us a few years yet before we can get our own house.”
“At least you can afford a house. This is the point of the land confiscations and the land lease system, and modular building systems; so the next generation can own their own home. You don’t have to wait around for Mom and Dad to die so you can inherit.
Also, you have a good apartment at an affordable rent. Our construction program is making plenty available. We’re building more ‘new family’ style units, too. That should be an interim solution for you.”
“Yes, you… the new government, only confiscated the speculators. But you forced real estate prices down to a fraction. In a way that’s good, but it destroyed all the equity Dad and Mom had on their home.”
“Yeah, you’re disappointed that we won’t inherit much. But, so it goes. We’re now in the age of socialism, each according to our needs.
But, little brother, there’s a way you can help Ruthie and me.”
“How’s that, big sister?”
Ruthie spoke up; “I want to have a kid.”
“Yes…?”
“I can do it with arterficial… in.sem.in. at.ion.”
“Yes…?”
“So I need a sperm donor.”
Barney grimasmiled; “Yes…?”
“So it’d be good if it was someone as…,gen.etic.ally, close to Angie as possible. You and her are twins.”
Bunsie; “Um, I, er…I’m not sure if…um, ah….”
Ruthie smiled urgingly at Bunsie; “Oh, you can help. It’s not complercated.”
Bunsie sputtered and looked at Barney. Barney looked back, blinking and moaning.
“Aw, c’mon, Bunsie; you get all the rest of it. I just need a dribble in this …tube thing.”
Bunsie; “Yeah, I…maybe…it does make sense…”
Barney; “But I’m just a…in this…”
Angie; “You get to be an uncle, Barney.”
Uncle Barney groaned, and finally sighed and said; “Okay, big sister, Ruthie.
Congratulations, in advance.”
And the moral for this chapter is; If you don’t know where you’re going, you won’t get there.