Kim Stanley Robinson - Blue Mars

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The final novel in the worldwide bestselling Mars trilogy, now part of the Voyager Classics collection.Mars has grown upIt is fully terraformed – genetically engineered plants and animals live by newly built canals and young but stormy seas.It is politically independent. A brave and buzzing new world. Most of the First Hundred have died. Those that remain are like walking myths to Martian youth.Earth has grown too muchChronic overpopulation, bitter nationalism, scarce resources. For too many Terrans, Mars is a mocking utopia. A dream to live for, fight for… perhaps even die for.

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The constitutional scholars from Dorsa Brevia agreed that the congress should be conducted by members of voting delegations, and the final result then voted on by the populace at large. Charlotte, who had helped to draft the Dorsa Brevia document twelve M-years before, had led a group since then in working up plans for a government, in anticipation of a successful revolution. They were not the only ones to have done this; schools in South Fossa and at the university in Sabishii had taught courses in the matter, and many of the young natives in the warehouse were well versed in the issues they were tackling. ‘It’s kind of scary,’ Art remarked to Nadia. ‘Win a revolution and a bunch of lawyers pop out of the woodwork.’

‘Always.’

Charlotte’s group had made a list of potential delegates to a constitutional congress, including all Martian settlements with populations over five hundred. Quite a few people would therefore be represented twice, Nadia pointed out, once by location and again by political affiliation. The few groups not on the list complained to a new committee, which allowed almost all petitioners to join. And Art made a call to Donald Hastings, and extended an invitation to UNTA to join as a delegation as well; the surprised Hastings got back to them a few days later, with a positive response. He would come down the cable himself.

And so after about a week’s jockeying, with many other matters being worked on at the same time, they had enough agreement to call for a vote of approval of the delegate list; and because it had been so inclusive, it passed almost unanimously. And suddenly they had a real congress. It was made up of the following delegations, with anywhere from one to ten people in each delegation:

Towns

Acheron

Nicosia

Cairo

Odessa

Harmakhis Vallis

Sabishii

Christianopolis

Bogdanov Vishniac

Hiranyagarbha

Mauss Hyde

New Clarke

Bradbury Point

Sergei Korolyov

Dumartheray Crater

South Station

Reull Vallis

southern caravanserai

Nuova Bologna

Nirgal Vallis

Montepulciano

Sheffield

Senzeni Na

Echus Overlook

Dorsa Brevia

Dao Vallis

South Fossa

Rumi

New Vanuatu

Prometheus

Gramsci

Mareotis

Burroughs refugees organization

Libya Station

Tharsis Tholus

Overhangs

Margaritifer Plinth

Great Escarpment caravanserai

Da Vinci

The Elysian League

Hell’s Gate

Political Parties and Other Organizations

Booneans

Reds

Bogdanovists

Schnellingistas

Marsfirst

Free Mars

TheKa

Praxis

Qahiran Majarhi League

Green Mars

United Nations Transitional Authority

Ka Kaze

Editorial Board of The journal of Areological Studies

Space Elevator Authority

Christian Democrats

The Metanational Economic Activity Co-ordination Committee

Bolognan Neomarxists

Friends of the Earth

Biotique

Separation de L’Atmosphere

General meetings began in the morning around the table of tables, then moved out in many small working groups to offices in the warehouse, or buildings nearby. Every morning Art showed up early and brewed great pots of coffee, kava and kavajava, his favourite. It perhaps was not much of a job, given the significance of the enterprise, but Art was happy doing it. Every day he was surprised to see a congress convening at all; and observing the size of it, he felt that helping to get it started was probably going to be his principal contribution. He was not a scholar, and he had few ideas about what a Martian constitution ought to include. Getting people together was what he was good at, and he had done that. Or rather he and Nadia had, for Nadia had stepped in and taken the lead just when they had needed her. She was the only one of the First Hundred on hand who had everyone’s trust; this gave her a bit of genuine natural authority. Now, without any fuss, without seeming to notice she was doing it, she was exerting that power.

And so now it was Art’s great pleasure to become, in effect, Nadia’s personal assistant. He arranged her days, and did everything he could to make sure they ran smoothly. This included making a good pot of kavajava first thing every morning, for Nadia was one of many of them fond of that initial jolt toward alertness and general good will. Yes, Art thought, personal assistant and drug dispenser, that was his destiny at this point in history. And he was happy. Just watching people look at Nadia was a pleasure in itself. And the way she looked back: interested, sympathetic, sceptical, an edge developing quickly if she thought someone was wasting her time, a warmth kindling if she was impressed by their contribution. And people knew this, they wanted to please her. They tried to keep to the point, to make a contribution. They wanted that particular warm look in her eye. Very strange eyes they were, really, when you looked close: hazel, basically, but flecked with innumerable tiny patches of other colours, yellow, black, green, blue. A mesmerizing quality to them. Nadia focused her full attention on people – she was willing to believe you, to take your side, to make sure your case didn’t get lost in the shuffle; even the Reds, who knew she had been fighting with Ann, trusted her to make sure they were heard. So the work coalesced around her; and all Art really had to do was watch her at work, and enjoy it, and help where he could.

And so the debates began.

In the first week many arguments concerned simply what a constitution was, what form it should take, and whether they should have one at all. Charlotte called this the metaconflict, the argument about what the argument was about – a very important matter, she said when she saw Nadia squint unhappily, ‘because in settling it, we set the limits on what we can decide. If we decide to include economic and social issues in the constitution, for instance, then this is a very different kind of thing than if we stick to purely political or legal matters, or to a very general statement of principles.’

To help structure even this debate, she and the Dorsa Brevia scholars had come with a number of different ‘blank constitutions’, which blocked out different kinds of constitutions without actually filling in their contents. These blanks did little, however, to stop the objections of those who maintained that most aspects of social and economic life ought not to be regulated at all. Support for such a ‘minimal state’ came from a variety of viewpoints that otherwise made strange bedfellows: anarchists, libertarians, neotraditional capitalists, certain Greens, and so on. To the most extreme of these anti-statists, writing up any government at all was a kind of defeat, and they conceived of their role in the congress as making the new government as small as possible.

Sax heard about this argument in one of the nightly calls from Nadia and Art, and he was as willing to think about it seriously as he was anything else. ‘It’s been found that a few simple rules can regulate very complex behaviour. There’s a classic computer model for flocking birds, for instance, which only has three rules – keep an equal distance from everyone around you – don’t change speed too fast – avoid stationary objects. Those will model the flight of a flock quite nicely.’

‘A computer flock maybe,’ Nadia scoffed. ‘Have you ever seen chimney-swifts at dusk?’

After a moment Sax’s reply arrived: ‘No.’

‘Well, take a look when you get to Earth. Meanwhile we can’t be having a constitution that says only “don’t change speed too fast”.’

Art thought this was funny, but Nadia was not amused. In general she had little patience for the minimalist arguments. ‘Isn’t it the equivalent of letting the metanats run things?’ she would say. ‘Letting might be right?’

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