The Ethos Effect, page 45
“You’re right. We’ll need to scope out a more detailed strategy before you testify.”
Van had almost forgotten about that. He wondered how many more duties he had that Trystin had handled. Nynca and Joe would make sure he knew. Of that, he was certain.
And... he still couldn’t help but worry about his family. But for the moment, and for at least weeks to come, there was little more that he could do. He had no ships, and commercial travel to Tara and Sulyn had been suspended—at least from the Coalition. Even if he had tried a roundabout routing, it would have taken weeks or months, with no guarantee of even getting there, let alone evading Republic security if he did reach Sulyn.
But he still worried.
Chapter 76
Van was in the office early. He sat at the table desk, looking out into the distance beyond Cambria. After a second week in the office, he was more than ready to return to the Joyau, except that he couldn’t, even without the hearing ahead, because Aerolis hadn’t finished the repairs.
In addition, he’d had to work out a redefined strategy for IIS, not that it had been that difficult, not with Nynca’s considerable assistance. The hard part had been working out the implementation plans. Then Laren had brought them the new notification requirements imposed by the Coalition, and Joe had brought in the latest financials—worse than any of them had expected, and Van hadn’t been that sanguine to begin with. The only saving grace was the reserve fund that Trystin had built up, and Van insisted that IIS only use a third of it in the next year.
Besides that, he had yet to testify before the External Commerce Subcommittee, and he couldn’t afford to alienate the Coalition, for all too many reasons.
He smiled, sadly, thinking of Trystin, then looked down at the hand-written message that Trystin had left, his eyes going over the words he had read so many times in the last days.
This is for you, in the event matters do not work as well as I hoped. I hope you do not see this, but a good commander plans for the worst. A long time ago, I thought I could fix something. I did, but it didn’t stay fixed, because as my father said so many years ago, a tree truly bent is never straight again. He was a far better gardener than I.
About most things, the Farhkans are probably right. About other things—like human nature, which they believe can be changed, because they have changed their natures—I have my doubts. Some aspects of human nature and some cultures can never truly be changed There are trees that need to be uprooted so that better trees can grow, and I have taken that upon myself, because, much as I have tried to prune and shape and direct the Revenant culture from without, there is a core that is wrong. I have watched, and asked, and questioned, and waited, but the tree has again grown twisted and crooked, and in many ways, worse and more hypocritical and evil than before. Were anyone else to see this, they would doubtless decry my arrogance. I may well be arrogant, but I am willing to act when others will only wring their hands.
I ask that, once read, you destroy this. Not because I am concerned about posterity, but because ascribing what happened to human action will only reinforce the determination of survivors to regrow the same twisted tree. So long as there is doubt about what happened and why, there will be questions, and questions are the very basis of truth. Questions denied are truth denied.
Van read the words a last time, and then set the single sheet of heavy parchment in the decorative bowl he had borrowed from a table in the hall. He focused the miniature gas torch on the corner of the note and flicked it Flame licked the creamy parchment creeping toward the words set in black ink. Before long, only ashes remained, as Trystin had requested.
Had the device not worked as Trystin had planned? Or had he just gotten tired in the end? Or had he taken too much to heart the feeling that he had been responsible for the Revenant resurgence? Nynca seemed to be the only one who knew, and she wasn’t saying.
Then how was Van any different, worrying as he did about where the Taran Republic was headed?
Incoming out-system for you, Director Albert.
Accept. Van could feel himself tense. What now? What other problem was coming home to roost on his shoulders? Van looked at the office screen, then called up the message.
His sister Sappho’s image appeared on the holo projection. He could see the tiredness in her eyes, and the darkness behind them.
“Van, the local IIS office here in Kurti gave me this address and said that they would forward my message to you. Yes, Aelsya and I and the children made it to the Kushite systems, and we’ve settled in here on Meroe. It’s hotter than we expected, but we’ve certainly been welcomed. That’s the good news...”
Van winced, but continued to listen.
“... we were already set to leave when your funds came through, and Dad Cicero made sure they were all retransferred to our names with the Nabatan Trust... Aelsya and I begged them to leave Sulyn with us, but they both said that... that everything that meant anything to them—except us—was in Bannon. Dad Almaviva shoved us onto the first out-system flight we could get. I couldn’t believe the cost...”
Van could. He knew those costs all too well.
“... I’ve tried to find out what happened after we left. At first, even the Republic embassy here wouldn’t tell us anything, but there was a woman there who recognized your name, somehow, and she’s been very helpful... this morning...” The image of Sappho swallowed. “This morning... she gave me a hard copy report...”
Van waited for the image of his sister to go on.
“... I can’t believe it... They ... they executed Dad Cicero and Dad Almaviva ... and it was Arturo... he was the one... He claimed that they had supported you, and that you had killed a sub-minister in New Oisin ... and had committed treason against the Republic. The RSF just came and took them away, and they shot them for treason... and I know they... they wouldn’t have done that. You wouldn’t have done that...
“They’ve already killed hundreds, and it could be thousands, and no one even raised a weapon... it’s hard... how could anyone...?
“I sent a message to Arturo, asking him what happened... how it could be so... I haven’t heard anything back. Maybe I never will... Oh ... the woman at the embassy, she didn’t believe it about you either. She said that you’d never do anything that wasn’t right. She didn’t say how she knew you, but she did...”
Van stood there, cold inside, watching the blank holo projection for a long time, before his eyes dropped to the bowl and the ashes there.
Chapter 77
Threeday of the following week found Van walking into the hearing room of the External Commerce Subcommittee of the Commerce Committee of the Constituent Assembly of the Eco-Tech Coalition. A youthful-looking staffer gestured toward the console and chair before the antique style desk-dais, behind which sat six delegates. Three positions were vacant, Van noted, as he seated himself. He also noted that the session was closed, with no audience. That did bother him.
“For the record,” opened the chairman, Delegate Inaru, “please state your name and position.”
“Van Cassius Albert, managing director of Integrated Information Systems.”
“You are a resident noncitizen, are you not?”
“That is correct, ser Chairman, but my official residence is here in Cambria.”
“For how long?”
“It’s been almost three years—three years in Octem.”
“Thank you. I understand that you have been the managing director of Integrated Information Systems for less than a month.”
“That is correct, ser Chairman. Since Director Desoll was lost with his ship. That was unexpected.”
“You were the number two officer at IIS prior to becoming managing director?”
“That is also correct.”
The chairman looked directly at Van. “IIS has been noted for undertaking a number of enterprises and activities that would be considered, shall we say for lack of a better word, most unconventional by other governments. Since these activities have always ended in beneficial results for the Coalition, and indeed for most of the Arm, and since they generally lie outside the purview of this committee, we will not intrude into this area, although the committee would like to note that the Assembly does retain that right.”
“I understand and appreciate the committee’s power and discretion,” Van replied, wondering what would come next.
“The committee will also note that it is highly probable that there were IIS vessels near the Jerush system in recent weeks, but that, unless other information should come to light, it appears unnecessary to pursue the matter.”
“We defer to your insight and understanding, ser Chairman.” Van understood that part of the message very clearly, and the reason why the hearing was closed.
“The committee would also like to suggest that the value provided by IIS lies in its unconventional approach, and this committee would certainly not wish to suggest any change in the IIS operations.”
That was a slight surprise, but Van nodded as he answered. “I cannot foresee any changes in the operational outlook and plans of IIS.”
“Do you plan any specific and significant changes in the operations of IIS?”
“Director Desoll had developed a system and a plan for IIS that worked exceedingly well, ser. I see no reason to change the overall operational outlook or structure of the foundation. With the ... change in the political and economic structure of the Arm, IIS will have to shift or close some planetary offices and open others, and we will need to change certain operational plans to reflect the changed economics. But I do not foresee any significant departures from the overall basic operations of the foundation.”
“That is good to know. In the past IIS has been most forthcoming in sharing information with the Assembly. Do you foresee any changes there?”
“The function and mission of IIS is to provide information, as you know, ser Chairman. We would be most remiss if we did not share as much information as we could, and we intend to continue the policies that have worked so well in the past.” Van was very glad that Laren had briefed him on the types of questions he was likely to face.
“What position does IIS intend to take with regard to the Revenant protectorate?”
“IIS will review each planetary system as it has always done, in terms of economic opportunity and the chance to foster equality in competition—”
“A question, ser Chairman.” The interruption came from the minority side.
“A question for the representative from Jiaku,” the chairman announced. “One question, Delegate Mitsui.”
“Thank you, ser Chairman.” Mitsui looked gravely at Van. “Under your predecessor, IIS was known to accept large contingency repayments from foreign multilaterals. Some members of this committee have questioned whether this was proper for a foundation that pays no taxes on such revenues. Do you intend to continue this questionable practice?”
“As you know from the detailed reports IIS files with the committee and the government revenue office,” Van began, “IIS is not a business entity that pays returns to shareholders. Nor do we pay profits taxes, since we have none. We do pay employee support and welfare taxes, as well as real estate and other services taxes. In fact, IIS pays more of these taxes than a number of Coalition multis. I believe the committee received a report on this from Director Desoll. If there is any public question on the level of taxes, I would be more than happy to make that report public.
“I might also add that, while some of the payments for our expertise might appear high, our expenses in providing that expertise are also extremely high. Our contribution to the Coalition is measured in far more than credits. In all planetary systems where IIS has developed a strong presence, Coalition financial and commercial interests have also prospered, and the index of personal economic and social freedoms has increased in the vast majority of those systems. Increasing economic and social freedoms in the Arm are aims clearly spelled out in our charter, and I believe it is fair to say that we have generally been successful in those efforts. Not in all cases, but in the majority. Neither our charter nor the laws of the Coalition restrict our revenues, only their use. We have fully complied with both the charter and the laws, and we have reported diligently on our revenues, expenses, and accomplishments. I believe, as did my esteemed predecessor, that our usefulness and effectiveness should be measured by the results we have achieved and not by merely assessing the flow of credits.” Van inclined his head politely. “Ser Chairman...?“
Chairman Inaru glanced toward Mitsui. “I believe the director has been most responsive to your inquiry and to his responsibilities to the Coalition. Our past investigations have shown the overall cost-effectiveness of IIS to be quite high. That is especially true in terms of the information provided continually to the committee.” Inaru turned back to Van. “You do intend to continue the reporting practices of your predecessor?”
“I could not imagine doing otherwise, ser Chairman.”
Van had the feeling that the hearing was going to be very long, and that he would end up answering many of the same questions, again and again, if in slightly different words amounting to the same response. He smiled politely and waited.
Chapter 78
The Salya slid into the docking tower at Aerolis, kissing into position without so much as a click or a muted thump.
“Excellent docking.” Van unstrapped from the second seat and looked at Nynca. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” She smiled wryly. “I may not say that after this tour you’ve scheduled for me. You did Gramps proud.”
“I gave you the ones you knew,” Van protested. “You were the one—the planning director—who told me that we needed to reestablish the offices that the Revenants had forced shut as soon as possible and reopen—”
“Laren and the legal staff said it was necessary to claim what assets we could and to ensure we didn’t get charged with effective abandonment or neglect.”
“Always the legalities.” Van shook his head. “Never what’s right.”
“The advocates don’t like ethics, Van,” she said quietly. “They’re too dangerous. Legal codes are more predictable.”
“Only when they’re backed by ethics and power.”
“They don’t like to remember that,” she pointed out “Most don’t” Van smiled wanly as he reclaimed the duffel and the small carry bag filled with datacards necessary to update the information on the Joyau’s shipnet. “Alya and I will clear out and leave you to your tasks.”
“You have the harder ones.”
In some ways, he did, Van reflected, but Nynca had more stops to make.
Mason Jynko was waiting for Van and Alya in the docking tower beyond the lock.
“Director... we had more to do on her than on the Salya ... but she’s ready now.”
“Good.” Van slung the carry bag over his shoulder and followed the ship contractor hand over hand down the tube.
They took another tube to the third docking tower and climbed back up to the locks joining the Joyau and the tower.
There, Jynko stopped and looked at Van. “We’ve managed to incorporate the standing wave equipment by cutting a meter off the port rear cabin and half a meter out of the hold. It’s not like a satellite-based system, ser. Your receiver is just as sensitive, but—”
“I know,” Van replied. “I read the specs you sent. What you’re telling me is that the transmitter’s only good for very short bursts, and that I’ve got to be in jump areas for it to work at all, and it will take all the power of the fusactors for five minutes—poured into that special accumulator.”
“That’s about it, ser. It was tough working out the reverse flow from that.”
That had been one of Van’s ideas. If he had to have another accumulator, he wanted to be able to throw the power back into the ship’s drives or shields, if necessary. In effect, the additional power would hold the shields another three minutes against a dreadnought. What good three minutes might do... Van didn’t know, but he’d seen how power cross-connections had worked for Trystin and later for the Joyau.
“As you ordered, ser,” Jynko said, “we’ve stored the boxes that were in the cargo hold in the conditioned warehouse space.”
“I’ve told Joe to expect the billing,” Van replied. “Compared to the cost of refurbishing the Joyau, it won’t be much, but I need them kept safe.”
“We understand, ser. We’ve been supporting IIS for over a century.”
Van nodded. “Everything checks out?”
“Yes, ser.”
“I’m sure you’re right” Van pulsed the ship lock open and stepped inside. He could smell the odors of fresh coatings, and electrical work.
Even before he reached his stateroom, where he stowed his gear, he had linked to the ship and was running his own diagnostics. Even as Jynko had promised, everything checked.
Alya had made for the tech spaces.
Still, it was almost two hours before Van was ready to delock.
From the second seat Alya, olive-skinned, green-eyed, and willowy, despite also being nearly as old as Van and having raised two children, looked at him.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For agreeing to be your tech? I like the job. I like IIS. I like working with you.” She smiled. “You told me where we were going ... but not in what order.”
“I’ve had a few things on my mind.” Van grinned sheepishly. “The Farhkan system—Dharel—first. Then Keshmara, Meroe in the Kushite Association, and a long list of small places, but the order after Meroe depends on what happens as we go. We have a lot of offices to investigate and rebuild.” After he talked to the Farhkans—if they would talk to him.
Van squared himself in the command seat. “We might as well get on with it.”
A-prime, this is Joyau, ready to delock this time. Van checked the locks and seals, then the ship’s power, before dropping the internal grav to nil.
