Christopher Nuttall - A Learning Experience

He shrugged. “And the plans for terraforming Venus are being finalised,” he concluded. “But it will be a harder chore than terraforming Mars.”

“Well begun is half done,” Steve said. “And there will be plenty of room for humanity when it is finished.”

Kevin smiled. Despite the very best of human and alien medical science, it was unlikely that any of them would live long enough to walk on Mars or Venus without protective gear. But Steve hadn’t let that stop him start the terraforming process. Their children would thank them, even if the current generation was more interested in the asteroids than the uninhabitable worlds. Besides, the Mars Society was already trying to create its own canton.

“Politically, Mars wants to move ahead to internal self-government,” he added. “I think it’s a little early, but they’re determined.”

Steve hesitated, then smiled. “They’re still going to be dependent on us for a long time, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” Kevin said, flatly. “It will be years before Mars develops an industry of its own.”

He shook his head. Neither he nor Steve had really grasped just how much effort the Mars Society had put into planning the settlement of Mars. Their ten-year plans might not have been tested, but at least they had a framework to use for settlement. Heinlein, on the other hand, had been pretty much an ad hoc affair. In the long run, it would be interesting to see which vision of the future prevailed.

“Then tell them that as long as they abide by the terms of the Solar Union Treaty, they can have their political independence,” Steve said. “We don’t want to rule them indefinitely in any case.”

Kevin nodded. There were only two real rules for the Solar Union, the planned association of cantons that would make up humanity’s interplanetary government. They had to allow free access to the datanet and free emigration, if their settlers wanted to leave. In the long run, decently-run cantons would do much better than cantons that were run by oppressive governments or outright tyrants. The tyrants would, eventually, find themselves ruling over empty asteroids.

Or planets , he thought, morbidly.

He had his doubts about the wisdom of allowing the Mars Society completely free rein, but if people could leave at will it probably didn’t matter. Planning was important, yet he knew from bitter experience that plans rarely lasted when confronted with reality. If the Mars Society insisted on sticking to its plans, the results were unlikely to be good. But it was their task now, if they wanted it. And if their people didn’t like it, they could always leave.

And that is one right we will enforce , he thought, bitterly. Nothing else, but that .

“Very good,” he said. “Do you want to return to your holiday?”

Steve glared at him, then sobered. “I think we’ll come back to the ship in a day or two anyway,” he said. “I’ve relaxed for far too long.”

“Mongo can take the island in your place,” Kevin said. “I think Jayne and he probably need a break too.”

“Good thinking,” Steve said. “And how is Carolyn?”

Kevin flushed. “She’s fine,” he said. “And working on the first antigravity system.”

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Steve said. “Have you and her…?”

Mariko elbowed Steve, hard. Kevin concealed his amusement behind a blank face. He’d taken Carolyn out to dinner every time he’d visited the moon, but their relationship hadn’t gone much further. It was both frustrating and tantalising; the more he thought about her, the more he realised that she was almost an ideal partner for him. But did she feel the same way?

“Not yet,” he said, tightly. “But we shall see.”

“What a shame,” Steve commented archly, “that you don’t get to walk around with a suit, a gun and girls on each arm.”

Kevin snorted. “When I get my hands on the man who invented James Bond,” he said, “I’m going to strangle him.”

“You’ll have to hold a séance,” Steve countered. “He’s been dead for years.”

“ Men ,” Mariko said. “Kevin, if you’re genuinely interested in her, give it time. And if you’re not, stop messing around and get back to work.”

Kevin nodded, then watched as Steve and Mariko made their way out of the cabin. He shook his head, ruefully, then accessed the interface and called Komura. There was political work to do.

“I’ve spoken to Mr. Flynn,” Komura said, an hour later. “He’s willing to undergo the lie detector test if we swear we’ll take him.”

Kevin resisted the temptation to snort, rudely. Teenagers . Didn’t they have any idea just how many people gave their solemn word in one breath and broke it in the next? Actually, they probably did… but if Flynn was innocent, he probably wasn’t feeling much trust in adults and any sort of government official at the moment. And if he was guilty…

“Good,” he said. “Make it clear that he will suffer our punishment if we discover he’s guilty.”

He couldn’t help wondering if that would cause more of a diplomatic incident than anything else. The Germans presumably wanted to punish him themselves, even though they wouldn’t kill him or do anything more than lock him up for a number of years. They might not even insist he served his full sentence, too. Liberal justice systems, in Kevin’s mind, often ensured that the punishment did not fit the crime. But then, they also often had skewed ideas of what was a crime.

It was nearly another hour before Komura got back in touch with him. “He’s innocent,” he said, shortly. “He didn’t kill the girl, he doesn’t know who did and he hates the German government.”

“Not our problem,” Kevin said. “Have him moved to Heinlein — he can go into one of the basic introductory courses until we know where he will fit in. And make sure that full copies of the interrogation record are placed online. Let the Germans download it and see that they nearly jailed an innocent man.”

He sighed, inwardly. In the long run, the Germans had badly damaged their cause. How many others, threatened with extradition, would use this as an excuse to delay or cancel their departures from American soil? And, for that matter, what would happen when a real criminal requested extradition?

What a fucking headache , he thought.

Shaking his head, he walked over to the console and started to tap in orders. The bloggers on the moon could start the ball rolling, ensuring that they got as much good publicity as possible. He had a feeling they were going to need it. Given time, the Germans might use the whole affair as an excuse to meddle with the new world order.

Or perhaps they will learn something from the whole affair , he thought, instead. If nothing else, the real killer is still unidentified. He must be laughing his ass off at the Germans — but not at us. Now the mistake is known, it can be fixed.

He sighed, again. The technology they had could be used to prevent all crime. A few billion nanotech surveillance drones, a handful of powerful computers to monitor their take… and crime would become a thing of the past. But the price would be a total loss of privacy and freedom. No one would be able to do anything without being observed. It would become a nightmare even if there was no Big Brother watching everyone. The entire human race would become neurotic.

But isn’t that the promise and threat of the future , he asked himself. The eternal balance between good and ill, between freedom and slavery, between the ideals of the future and the curse of the past ?

In truth, he conceded, he had no answer. All he could do was wait and see.