Michael Thomas: Gates of Cilicia

“A bit over the top, isn’t that?” asked Glaucon, not in the slightest concerned at addressing one of the highest official in the city. The Prefect looked at him but said nothing. Glaucon looked back to Xenophon who just smiled and nudged him forward.

“Don’t dawdle, we have business to attend to!” he laughed.

The Ecclesia was packed with citizens of every age and background from across the planet. Some were regular attendants of the assembly, for others it was their very first visit. Either way, it was quite possibly the single most important meeting of the Ecclesia since its founding hundreds of years before. It often reminded Xenophon of an unruly mob with its long arguments and snap decisions. The debate had already finished, and across Attica similar gatherings were taking place. The decisions made today by the citizen body would determine the future of not just the homeworld but also the entire Alliance. Any citizen was allowed to speak or vote, but only those with military service were allowed to participate in the elite and prestigious body known as the Boule. Five hundred citizens were chosen by lot each year to run this important department. The Boule’s primary role was to administer and run day-to-day affairs, but it also presented business to the assembly of the citizens to be voted upon.

Xenophon watched with interest as a number of young men and women he knew well approached the stand. They had all served their required year in the military to receive the honour, an honour that he so far had managed to avoid. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to serve in the military. It was just that he felt no particular calling to serve when the only real threat was from pirates or slavers. The cold war between the two old Terran rivals was always on but had spilled out into open warfare for decades. He liked to think that when the time came, and his people were in peril, he would step up and volunteer. They waited a short moment before an older man, slightly shorter and in his official robes, approached. He took place in the centre of the group and looked down to the crowds of citizens. This was something that happened only on the free worlds of the Alliance. No other empire or organisation could claim this level of democracy or involvement by its citizens in the day-to-day running of the state.

Not that a democracy is the best form of government. This place is more like a cattle market than a place of political discourse, Xenophon considered with great disdain.

Most of the Alliance worlds had adopted various forms of democratic government, but Attica was unique. This was the only world where every single citizen could, and was expected to, play a part. They held public office and voted on everything from tax and spending to foreign affairs and deployment of the armed forces. Unlike most worlds, it was possible to work for a year as a magistrate or official in some capacity, based purely by lot, not merit. It was a system loved by most, but not Xenophon.

A silence spread through the great open building as the old man raised his arms. It was the signal for all those present to take their seats. It took a few seconds. Especially, as many of those present were a good deal older than Xenophon.

“Citizens, the debate before the members of the Boule is over. This has been a long and difficult topic to discuss, and we have sought information, intelligence and expertise at every stage. We cannot deny the public interest in this struggle and have therefore decided it is time for you to vote on the proposed call-up and military action. As citizens of Attica and the Alliance, your votes must now be considered. As is tradition, we have a fifteen-minute recess to give you the opportunity to place your ballots and to double-check the official records and statements. Before you vote, I would like to reiterate the importance of this vote. A decision for war will mean sending your own sons and daughters, even yourselves, into harm’s way. Do not enter into such a decision lightly.”

The first sensible thing I have heard all day, thought Xenophon.

The man sat down, and no sooner did he touch the stonework, the entire place erupted into action. A great chorus of shouting, chattering and general noise echoed through the Ecclesia. The acoustics did nothing but help the spread of sound to every corner of the ancient structure. Xenophon and Glaucon moved away to the side where it was a little quieter. The Assembly building itself was circular in shape and equipped with beautifully detailed columns around the perimeter. The stonework was lavishly carved with great events from the Terrans’ past. Stories, such as the first colonies founded by humanity, took up most of the space. In the centre of the building was a much thicker, larger column that had been erected almost a century before. The two men moved past the column as they made their way to one of the many alcoves that dotted the stone structure. Vertical display panels were placed at discrete points so that citizens could vote in private. Glaucon stopped and gazed at the lighter stonework of the large column. He was of a more bulky shape than Xenophon, a mixture of genetics and a lot of time in the gymnasium. Where Xenophon was the intelligent, calculating and agile young man, Glaucon was the rich liberal, yet ham-fisted and easy to anger.

“Still looks too new, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I think interest in the victory will fade well before the stonework does.”

Glaucon shook his head in disbelief. It was yet another field of history or politics for them to argue about.

“Really? You don’t think the Terran victory against the two invasions by the Median Empire is the seminal moment in our shared histories?”

“Of course it is, but probably not for the reasons you think it is.”

Glaucon sighed, preparing himself for another of his friend’s lectures.

“You see, it is also one of the events that shows us why the Laconian and Alliance colonies have more in common than you might think. Don’t forget, it was the manpower of the Laconian automaton slaves that gave us the edge in heavy infantry. Only their state, one based around war, was able to decisively delay the Empire’s advance and then finish them off at the Plataea. The Alliance could never have stood without help.”

“What? You forget our breaking of the siege? It was the single most important space battle in the history of humanity. It was our ships that smashed imperial warships even though we were outnumbered ten to one. The Laconians are animals. They create nothing, are poorly educated…”

“And yet they could crush us in any equal engagement?” added a defiant Xenophon.

Glaucon shook his head and sighed.

“Watch your tongue in this place. You know what the mood is here, and that kind of talk could get you ostracised.”

Xenophon nodded in agreement.

“In that you are correct. You just have to love the mob.”

They both looked at the numbers around them. Some looked as though they were taking it all very seriously, but a large number of the younger citizens stood out. They wore symbols and logos with a variety of causes, of which one of the most common concerned spreading democracy to those still ruled by dictators.

“Look at them, go on, look. This is the problem with mob rule. They believe their causes are important even though those they will affect may feel otherwise. You’ll remember the last argument we had with them. We were accused of all kinds of crimes unless we agreed with their liberal agenda. These are the people that will determine our fate!”

He lifted his hands and turned on the spot as if pointing out the great horde of people in the Assembly. He did a complete revolution before turning back to Glaucon.

“It is too easy to let them decide to fight or not to fight. Their decisions are based upon short-term thinking and emotion. Logic, history and reason mean nothing to them, just their own selfish agenda. These decisions should be made by those with wisdom and experience that will take all of us into account.”