existed, had begun to do so during the last two governorships, beginning with random inquiries to ordinary offices and citizens . . .
And lately taking delivery of orange juice, table salt, live lettuce, and eight canisters of chlorine, which it just confiscated from various shops and storehouses. Figure that one. Last week it had taken a sculpture from a good neighborhood. It scared hell out of the merchants. No one claimed to understand it.
He should report the sculpture theft to the Earth ship. Let them worry about it.
N O QU E S T I O N the see me from the governor’s office had to do with the ship incoming. The invitation suited Antonio Brazis, even at this late hour. He was just as anxious to see Setha Reaux and know what Reaux knew before this untimely ship got to dock and sent its electronic tentacles running into their affairs.
He hoped to hell that Reaux’s personal fund-raising peccadillos hadn’t caught up with him. As governors went, Reaux was a good one—not immune to influence peddlers, especially close to the construction interests that formed a real power base in a station currently building its own replacement; but he had to maintain his own power base, and he was a sensible and honest man where it counted, regarding the overall welfare of the station. Infighting always swayed governors: wealthy expatriate Earthers arrived on Concord to assume what wasn’t, after all, a popularly elected office; and life-appointed governors grew corrupt primarily because they were outsiders in the lower-case sense, foreigners incapable of function if locally stymied and opposed. A man wanted to have allies, and Earth might appoint its governors from Earth itself, counting them more loyal, but local Earther descendants chose Station councilmen in hotly contested local elections, and oh, believe there was favor-trading, if a governor really wanted to get anything done, let alone done on time.
Fo r g e o f H e a v e n • 6 9
Outsider chairmen, for which Brazis was truly grateful, had no such considerations: the High Council at Apex life-appointed both the head of the Planetary Office and the Concord Chairman, both offices, in his case, vested in one person, and yes, local Outsider citizens held elections for civil posts and local Council, just like Earther citizens, though with far less fire and drama. The Earth governor thus remained forever at the mercy of his legislature, which directed day-to-day operation of station systems, managed trade with Earth and the Inner Worlds, and maintained control over the police, customs, and legal systems. In effect, a governor could ask, but had the devil’s own time enforcing policy, if he had not played the local game of favor-trading.
Not so, Brazis’s own office. He traded no favors. Concord’s local Outsider Council, lacking any power to regulate station operation, was more a debating society, handling zoning regulations and public services in its districts. Concord’s Outsider Chairman presided over the Outsider Council and appointed the head of the civil police in Outsider districts.
That, on most stations, was that—Outsider government wielded very little power over the station’s external dealings.
But on Concord, there was that other office: the Planetary Office.
The Project.
And the project director, holding absolute authority over the Project, necessarily held police powers and regulatory authority, not only equal to the Earth-appointed governor’s authority, but authority that could actually override the Earth governor’s decisions, where it affected the PO’s operations or Project security.
Brazis being both local Chairman and Project Director was not to Earth’s liking: that had been clear when he took the second office. Earth officially didn’t like that combination of powers—in fact, Apex itself was divided on the matter, which had carried by one vote—but it stood, and it was useful when it came to putting his foot down. He had been at
And lately taking delivery of orange juice, table salt, live lettuce, and eight canisters of chlorine, which it just confiscated from various shops and storehouses. Figure that one. Last week it had taken a sculpture from a good neighborhood. It scared hell out of the merchants. No one claimed to understand it.
He should report the sculpture theft to the Earth ship. Let them worry about it.
N O QU E S T I O N the see me from the governor’s office had to do with the ship incoming. The invitation suited Antonio Brazis, even at this late hour. He was just as anxious to see Setha Reaux and know what Reaux knew before this untimely ship got to dock and sent its electronic tentacles running into their affairs.
He hoped to hell that Reaux’s personal fund-raising peccadillos hadn’t caught up with him. As governors went, Reaux was a good one—not immune to influence peddlers, especially close to the construction interests that formed a real power base in a station currently building its own replacement; but he had to maintain his own power base, and he was a sensible and honest man where it counted, regarding the overall welfare of the station. Infighting always swayed governors: wealthy expatriate Earthers arrived on Concord to assume what wasn’t, after all, a popularly elected office; and life-appointed governors grew corrupt primarily because they were outsiders in the lower-case sense, foreigners incapable of function if locally stymied and opposed. A man wanted to have allies, and Earth might appoint its governors from Earth itself, counting them more loyal, but local Earther descendants chose Station councilmen in hotly contested local elections, and oh, believe there was favor-trading, if a governor really wanted to get anything done, let alone done on time.
Fo r g e o f H e a v e n • 6 9
Outsider chairmen, for which Brazis was truly grateful, had no such considerations: the High Council at Apex life-appointed both the head of the Planetary Office and the Concord Chairman, both offices, in his case, vested in one person, and yes, local Outsider citizens held elections for civil posts and local Council, just like Earther citizens, though with far less fire and drama. The Earth governor thus remained forever at the mercy of his legislature, which directed day-to-day operation of station systems, managed trade with Earth and the Inner Worlds, and maintained control over the police, customs, and legal systems. In effect, a governor could ask, but had the devil’s own time enforcing policy, if he had not played the local game of favor-trading.
Not so, Brazis’s own office. He traded no favors. Concord’s local Outsider Council, lacking any power to regulate station operation, was more a debating society, handling zoning regulations and public services in its districts. Concord’s Outsider Chairman presided over the Outsider Council and appointed the head of the civil police in Outsider districts.
That, on most stations, was that—Outsider government wielded very little power over the station’s external dealings.
But on Concord, there was that other office: the Planetary Office.
The Project.
And the project director, holding absolute authority over the Project, necessarily held police powers and regulatory authority, not only equal to the Earth-appointed governor’s authority, but authority that could actually override the Earth governor’s decisions, where it affected the PO’s operations or Project security.
Brazis being both local Chairman and Project Director was not to Earth’s liking: that had been clear when he took the second office. Earth officially didn’t like that combination of powers—in fact, Apex itself was divided on the matter, which had carried by one vote—but it stood, and it was useful when it came to putting his foot down. He had been at
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