some kind of hollow puppet, when both outcomes were already possible in the ordinary course of events.
But the nature of the decision would still be utterly different if he reached it with foreknowledge. All that the need for consistency could impose was the requirement that he actually went
along with the choice – however reluctantly, resignedly or apathetically he closed the loop. The revelation wouldn’t need to ring true, or fill him with joy, or cast any light on the
dilemma it resolved. He merely had to be capable of acceding to it – of muttering ‘Yeah, that’ll do.’
He couldn’t live like that – and he couldn’t stand by and let the Council force it on everyone else for the next six generations. Greta’s promise that the information
would be contained was just wishful thinking; that would certainly make the technology more useful to its owners, but Ramiro had no doubt that the content of the messages would still leak out.
And the sooner he broke his own promise, the safer he’d be. He called out to a woman approaching on his left, ‘Excuse me!’
She stopped. ‘Yes?’
‘My name’s Ramiro, I’m an automation engineer.’
The woman looked puzzled, but she introduced herself. ‘I’m Livia, I’m a shedding technician. Didn’t you—?’
‘Lose an exploding leg near the Station? Yes, I’m that idiot.’
Livia paused expectantly. Famous or not, his claim on her time was strictly limited.
Ramiro said, ‘I’ve just heard that the Council is planning a new messaging system; they invited me to work on it, but I declined. If they build it, it will affect all of us, so if
you can spare a couple of lapses I’d like to tell you about it.’
By the time he was halfway through his account there were six more people listening. Ramiro confined his message to the science itself; people could ponder the implications at their leisure, and
if he started philosophising that would only encourage disputatious onlookers.
When he’d finished, Livia thanked him and walked away, but some of the others gathered nearby in heated discussion. Ramiro left them to it; it was more important to keep spreading the word
than to try to influence one small debate. He raised a schematic on his chest and spread his arms. ‘New messaging system! Hear all about it!’
A dozen people walked past him, bemused or embarrassed, but then a woman stopped. ‘What new system?’
‘The one that uses light from the orthogonal cluster to bring information from the future.’
‘You’re joking?’
Ramiro said, ‘Hear me out, then decide for yourself.’
As he started speaking, more people gathered, while the remnants of his last audience dispersed. In a chime or two there’d be no hope at all of tracking down everyone who knew about the
scheme, let alone locking them up.
8
‘You should ask Pio for some debating tips,’ Medoro suggested. ‘He’s the expert.’
Agata hummed frantically. ‘Are you going to help me or not? I only have three more days to get this right.’ The last time she’d sought Medoro’s advice he’d fobbed
her off with an excuse about the camera creating a conflict of interest. The Councillors themselves were required by law to stay out of the debates, but if every last person who had some stake in
the outcome kept themselves at arm’s length from the process there’d be no one left with a reason to argue the case on either side.
Medoro relented and invited her into his apartment. ‘I’ll do what I can. If your enemies portray you as part of my self-serving cabal, so be it – but when we’re in public
you’ll have to call me “puppet master” and answer to “stooge”.’
Agata rewarded this suggestion with silence.
He said, ‘Seriously, wouldn’t Lila be more use to you?’
‘Lila’s staying out of this. I’m not sure if she’s even made up her mind how she’ll be voting.’ Agata hadn’t pushed her on the matter, and she
But the nature of the decision would still be utterly different if he reached it with foreknowledge. All that the need for consistency could impose was the requirement that he actually went
along with the choice – however reluctantly, resignedly or apathetically he closed the loop. The revelation wouldn’t need to ring true, or fill him with joy, or cast any light on the
dilemma it resolved. He merely had to be capable of acceding to it – of muttering ‘Yeah, that’ll do.’
He couldn’t live like that – and he couldn’t stand by and let the Council force it on everyone else for the next six generations. Greta’s promise that the information
would be contained was just wishful thinking; that would certainly make the technology more useful to its owners, but Ramiro had no doubt that the content of the messages would still leak out.
And the sooner he broke his own promise, the safer he’d be. He called out to a woman approaching on his left, ‘Excuse me!’
She stopped. ‘Yes?’
‘My name’s Ramiro, I’m an automation engineer.’
The woman looked puzzled, but she introduced herself. ‘I’m Livia, I’m a shedding technician. Didn’t you—?’
‘Lose an exploding leg near the Station? Yes, I’m that idiot.’
Livia paused expectantly. Famous or not, his claim on her time was strictly limited.
Ramiro said, ‘I’ve just heard that the Council is planning a new messaging system; they invited me to work on it, but I declined. If they build it, it will affect all of us, so if
you can spare a couple of lapses I’d like to tell you about it.’
By the time he was halfway through his account there were six more people listening. Ramiro confined his message to the science itself; people could ponder the implications at their leisure, and
if he started philosophising that would only encourage disputatious onlookers.
When he’d finished, Livia thanked him and walked away, but some of the others gathered nearby in heated discussion. Ramiro left them to it; it was more important to keep spreading the word
than to try to influence one small debate. He raised a schematic on his chest and spread his arms. ‘New messaging system! Hear all about it!’
A dozen people walked past him, bemused or embarrassed, but then a woman stopped. ‘What new system?’
‘The one that uses light from the orthogonal cluster to bring information from the future.’
‘You’re joking?’
Ramiro said, ‘Hear me out, then decide for yourself.’
As he started speaking, more people gathered, while the remnants of his last audience dispersed. In a chime or two there’d be no hope at all of tracking down everyone who knew about the
scheme, let alone locking them up.
8
‘You should ask Pio for some debating tips,’ Medoro suggested. ‘He’s the expert.’
Agata hummed frantically. ‘Are you going to help me or not? I only have three more days to get this right.’ The last time she’d sought Medoro’s advice he’d fobbed
her off with an excuse about the camera creating a conflict of interest. The Councillors themselves were required by law to stay out of the debates, but if every last person who had some stake in
the outcome kept themselves at arm’s length from the process there’d be no one left with a reason to argue the case on either side.
Medoro relented and invited her into his apartment. ‘I’ll do what I can. If your enemies portray you as part of my self-serving cabal, so be it – but when we’re in public
you’ll have to call me “puppet master” and answer to “stooge”.’
Agata rewarded this suggestion with silence.
He said, ‘Seriously, wouldn’t Lila be more use to you?’
‘Lila’s staying out of this. I’m not sure if she’s even made up her mind how she’ll be voting.’ Agata hadn’t pushed her on the matter, and she
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