The Brave New World
/ The Brave New World 108 How To Get Wealthy
Brock broke off to treat the assembled governors to a baleful glare. He could see that some of them were upset, so he said:
"Let me make something clear. You're not employees of the colonial administration. You're all independent contractors, working on a percentage. You don't like the way things are, you can quit. Anytime. There are lots of people that would like to take your place. Because regardless of the changes made and changes that will be made, one thing is sure. All governors will get fucking rich. I want them, I want you to get rich. If you get rich, so will I."
Brock acknowledged the appreciative titters with a smile, then continued:
"Here's how it works, from the ground up. The district governor is the lowest tier. A district governor will rule over a maximum of ten to twelve colonies. It could be as little as two, it could be a dozen. Because a colony might have just one crummy little settlement that is barely getting by, or it might have twenty. Including some really big, big enough to be called towns or cities.
"The next tier consists of regional governors. Each region will consist of up to a dozen districts. Area governors come next - they will administer up to a dozen regions. The next step up is where you come in: state territorial governors. You will be managing all area directors within your state territory. Of course, first you have to appoint them. You have complete freedom in that regard. You can choose anyone you like.
"You may appoint regional directors too, or leave it to your area directors. You definitely don't want to get involved too much at the district level. Of course if you think you have someone who will make a good district governor - sure, give them the job. But otherwise, leave that business to the governors under your management. You'll go crazy otherwise. Remember that your duties also include New World business here, on good old Earth. Just New World business, and nothing else."
"But we were told we would govern the same territory in both worlds," a querulous voice said.
"You will. But don't get involved in administration and politics here on Earth. What you need to understand is that here on Earth, a governor acts as an overseer for the new world government. You'll watch and listen and make periodic reports, and of course attend to anything connected with the New World. You definitely won't have the time to get involved beyond that. You can, but let me tell you - you don't want to. Things are bad, and they are going to get a lot worse."
"I thought we came here to discuss, pardon me, offer solutions to that," someone said.
"No, no. Not that. Earth business is Earth business. Let the elected representatives deal with this shit. That's what they were elected for. The problems we have to solve are New World problems."
Kirk felt his heart sink when he heard that: his brilliant solution, conceived during his train journey, was worthless. Brock had already come to the same conclusion on his own - no, that wasn't possible, he was just too dim for that. Someone else had the same idea, and talked to Brock before Kirk could.
He glanced around the table and saw many governors present shared his feelings: many of them were exchanging feverish whispers. Like Kirk, they'd assumed the conference would be about the situation on Earth: as Brock had mentioned, it was bad and getting worse. They'd all been thinking hard how to deal with Earth problems. They'd all been wasting their time.
He glanced at Brock. Brock was frowning, waiting for the excitement to die down. When the whispering ceased, he said:
"We are here to discuss New World business. I expressly forbid anyone to moan about the unemployment and the hunger and the deaths here on Earth. Have no fear, you're going to have to deal with plenty of hunger and deaths in the New World. I'll come to that in a moment. But first, I think you'd all like to know how you'll make money."
A murmur of approval ran around the table. Brock smiled, and said:
"Every governor will be paid a percentage of the value created by the territory under his control. In addition, as independent contractors you're free to mint as much money as you can or want. Of course you'll have to register your mints just like everyone else, and pay the 50% tax. In other words, one coin for you and one for the government.
"Initially, most of a district governor's production will come from his own settlement. Officially it's called a colonial administration center, but let's just call it a district capital, right? With time, the colonies in that district will produce more than the biggest capital imaginable. The owners of those colonies, the colonizers will have a choice: send what they produce to Earth - or sell it to their district governor in the New World, in exchange for needed goods. And there will be a whole fucking lot of needed goods."
You can say that again, thought Kirk. He had turned off the signal completely the moment he'd arrived in New York, and hadn't visited the New World while he slept. But he still remembered only too well the numerous discomforts of living in the New World. Brock was sure to be aware of them, too.
Brock said:
"All those guys will be arriving in the New World buck naked, without a single useful thing. They will need clothes. They will need tools. They will need food. They will need crop seeds and livestock and technological know-how. This is where the district governor steps in. He can extend credit to colonizers he thinks worthy, and sell them whatever they need. He can delegate experts - for a fee, of course - who will assist colonizers in setting up farming and industry. He can do whatever he wants to increase the productivity of his district.
"Because that's the first and only responsibility of a colonial governor: he makes sure that his domain is productive. That's all that matters. Every governor, regardless of rank, has complete freedom of action and decision. Every governor will be judged solely by the productivity of his domain. If it's good - great! If it's bad, he gets replaced by someone who can do a better job. Do not hesitate to fire area governors who aren't pulling their weight. The less productive they are, the less productive you are. You don't want that."
The silence around the table was an approving silence. The governors all agreed that everyone under their rule should work their asses off. Subordinates that worked their asses off meant the guy on top could cut himself some slack. Controlling other people was inevitably a nerve-wracking experience, and every governor was sure to need every bit of slack he could get.
Kirk surprised himself. He said, quite loudly:
"That's fine. But what's my cut?"
Everyone laughed, including Carlton Brock. Someone shouted:
"Kirk Lander for President!"
"He doesn't want that job," Brock shouted back. "Why the hell do you think I resigned?"
His question restored silence immediately. All the assembled governors had their own private theories as to why Brock let the hated Mark Penny have his job.
"All right, here's the deal," Brock said. "I warn you that this is the deal right now. It has changed, and it may change in the future. This is a very new and difficult situation that we have here. We will have to adapt as we go.
"A district governor gets 10% of the value created in his settlement, through both production and trade. Basically 10% of everything he sends back home. A regional governor gets 10% of his capital's exports too, plus 1% of everything exported by the district capitals in his region. Same goes for area directors - 10% and 1%. Same goes for all of you guys: 10% of what you send, 1% of total state territory exports. But it's not the same for poor me. I don't get the 10%, because I do not rule my capital. I have appointed a mayor, and am content with 1% of all New World trade within United States territory."
Brock grinned widely as he waited for the appreciative laughter to die down. Then he said:
"Learn from my example. You can hire as many deputies as you like, paying them from your share. Delegate, delegate, delegate. That's the best advice I can give you. Applicable both here and in the New World."
He made a show of looking at his watch, and said:
"I see it's almost time for our working lunch. And we all need a few minutes to stretch our legs. But before we take a break, I want everyone to start thinking how we are going to solve the biggest problem involved in colonizing the New World. I want ideas on how to deal with the hordes of naked, starving fuckups who will begin besieging all the colonial capitals in just a few days' time. And keep in mind this isn't just a New World problem. Those people could seek you out and make your life hell here, on Earth. So don't think you can just shoot them all or whatever and the problem's gone. The guys you'd shot in the New World might try to shoot you here, at home."
Kirk was riding high: the applause he'd received after his earlier contribution inspired him to try again. He said:
"I am going to impose strict controls on the number of colonial licenses issued in my state. No more than so many a day, the number depending on the overall situation."
Brock stared at him. So did all the others.
"Brilliant," Brock said eventually. "Kirk Lander, you're the man! Okay. Let's get the hell out of here so that the staff can set the table for lunch."
"That was good," Ron Small said to Kirk as they both rose from their seats.
Kirk looked at him sharply - he thought Small had sounded ironical. But Small repeated:
"That was good. Really good. Of course, if there are controls in place you must make sure everyone's resistant to bribes."
"Are you resistant to bribes, Ron?" asked Kirk.
"Depends on who's giving them," Small said. "Not the amount, you understand."
"I do," said Kirk.
He didn't bother telling small he hadn't ever taken a bribe. Small wouldn't believe him, anyway.
"What do you think we'll get for lunch, Ron?" he said.
"Whatever it is, there won't be a lot of it," said Small.
It was very sad, but he was probably right.
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