Part Four
Outwardly, the social structure of Mars — where people lived, whom they associated with — changed little. The greatest upheavals came for officials in the birthing government, who flocked over Mars like birds in search of a nest. The nest was found, selected without much ceremony by the interim President. Ti Sandra chose Schiaparelli Basin between Arabia Terra and Terra Meridiani, and the tiny station of Many Hills spilled over with activity. This would be the capital of Mars.
Such a grand denomination required more than a digging of tunnels and erection of domes; it required a new architectural renaissance, something that would impress the entire system and serve as symbol for the new Republic. All the families in the Republic wanted to contribute funds and expertise. The difficulty was selecting from a wealth of enthusiasm and advice.
The interim legislature created an agency called Point One, and assigned it twin tasks: security of the executive branch, and gathering of information for the government as a whole. Ti Sandra had mused that the tasks would have to be separated eventually, or a fifth branch of government would arise — “The branch of intrigue and back-stabbing.” So far, however, things were working smoothly.
In the tiny headquarters at Many Hills, I spoke with Ti Sandra about the end of our government and the transition to the elected government. I hoped to continue working with the Olympians, at least until a fully capable Office of Scientific Research could be established; I mentioned acquiring an enhancement. Ti Sandra expressed interest in what sort of enhancement I would employ — I had not decided yet — and then sprung her own surprise.
The President walked along the display that filled an entire wall of the President’s Office. The media links had been established just the day before. On the new display, projected statistics for much of Mars could be called up instantly, as well as ports to all public ex nets. Dedicated thinkers performed image and concept searches on all LitVid communications, and constantly glossed the mood of the planet. We hoped to buy similar (though less comprehensive) services for other parts of the Triple, including Earth.
Our conversation turned to the coming election. “We’re not so bad, you know,” she said. “Have you seen the lists?”
Many candidates had declared, but none seemed especially popular in the pre-campaign polling.
“I’ve seen them,” I said.
“If we declared, we’d probably win,” she said with a deep sigh.
I tensed. “You’re serious?”
Ti Sandra laughed and hugged me. “What should we do, show honorable Martian reserve and retire to our farms, to advise the lesser politicians like elder statesfolk?”
“Sounds fine to me,” I said.
Ti Sandra clucked disapprovingly. “You’ve mapped out your territory. You want to keep track of Charles Franklin.”
I gave her a shocked look.
“I mean, of course, what he’s doing.”
I seldom became angry at the President, but now my blood stirred. “It’s not trivial. If it’s not directed properly, it’s the biggest source of trouble we’ll face for years.”
“I know,” Ti Sandra said, raising her hands in placation. “I shudder when I think about it. And I can’t think of anyone better than you to oversee the project. But… What makes you think a completely fresh batch of elected officials will be so wise?”
“I’ll help them,” I said.
“What if they refuse your help?”
The possibility hadn’t occurred to me.
“Election is a chancy thing,” Ti Sandra said. “We haven’t proven we know how to do it on Mars. The most delicate time is transition.”
“Transition is confounded by leaders who won’t give up power,” I reminded her.
“And muddled by leaders who don’t know how to govern,” she said.
“You’d want me to declare with you?”
“I depend on you,” she said. “And… I’d give you the Olympians as your special problem. It would be a pity to pour all that money into an enhancement and sit on the outside, looking in.”
I considered for a moment. Being a part of history mattered much less to me than pulling Mars through a frightening time. To accept her offer, I would have to give up more time with Ilya, years more of my private life. But Ti Sandra was right. Most of the candidates who had declared were not impressive. At least we had some experience.
Personal considerations had to be put aside; where would I be most effective? I had hoped to be able to offer expertise and keep myself separate from the killing strain of elected office.
“You don’t look enthusiastic,” Ti Sandra said.
“I feel ill,” I said, exaggerating only a little.
“Those leaders are best who least desire to lead,” Ti Sandra said.
“I don’t believe that for a minute,” I said.
“It’s a good slogan,” she said. “Are you with me?”
I considered in silence. Ti Sandra stood patiently, a tall broad tree of a woman whose presence filled the room, and whom I had come to love like a mother.
I nodded, and we shook hands firmly.
Beyond any doubt, I was now a politician.
The best place to choose, purchase, and install an enhancement was Shinktown. I conferred with Charles about which Martian brand was best, and what level would suit my purposes. “Something less than a mini-thinker,” he suggested, “and more than a LitVid download. The best in that category is a design by Marcus Pribiloff, licensed through Wah Ming BM. It’s two hundred thousand Triple dollars, but I can arrange for a discount.”
I asked why he had never had an enhancement installed. “I won’t presume to say I couldn’t use it,” he said. “But for creative work, they’re really not all that useful. Too fixed and linear.”
Shinktown had changed little in the past six years. The atmosphere of cheap entertainment and student food prevailed; the architecture still embodied the worst Mars had to offer. But a new district had grown in the southwest quarter, catering to students and faculty who wished to compete with Earth-based academics.
There had always been those on Mars who used enhancements. Economists had led the population at first, followed by mathematicians, physical scientists, sociologists, and finally physicians. But now Martians with no particular professional need were coming to Shinktown. Sales of enhancements had tripled at UMS in the past three years.
Attitudes were changing. Mars was becoming more like Earth; in twenty years, I thought, we might catch up.
I took time off to travel to Shinktown. There, I visited Pribiloff’s office with trepidation. The decor was Old Settlement Modern, incorporating the ingenuity of Martian design when goods were in very short supply, but with a flip of near-satire. I liked the style, but it didn’t slack my nervousness.
A human secretary, female and motherly, very conservative, gave me a quick med check and verified my stats. Then I was escorted into Doctor Pribiloff’s inner sanctum. He stood by the door as I entered, shook my hand firmly, and sat on a stool, offering me a comfortable chair in a spot of light. The rest of the small room was in shadow, including Pribiloff.
The doctor appeared to be about my age, with earnest features, a high forehead, deeply melanic skin; attractive in a scholarly way. He wore a simple suit and dress tunnel boots. Conspicuous by its absence was a slate pocket; no doubt he carried his slate internally.
“You’ve made an interesting choice, Madam Vice President,” Pribiloff began. “Not many politicians choose a specific science enhancement. You haven’t shown much interest in these subjects before… May I ask why you’re interested now?”
I smiled politely and shook my head. “Actually, it’s personal,” I said.
“Hobby enhancement doesn’t always satisfy,” Pribiloff informed me, shifting on the stool. “State of the art still requires a fair amount of motivation and concentration. The model you’ve requested… I’ve never installed one before. It’s a version of a Terrie enhancement, rarely installed even there.”