The Brave New World 113 The Die Is Cas

By half past one, Carlton Brock had drunk at least a pint of bourbon. He stopped only when he'd finished the bottle.

After due consideration, he got out a flat, silver flask, filled it from a fresh bottle of bourbon, and put in it in the breast pocket of his jacket. It made him fully prepared for all the hours of listening to bullshit that he would have to endure.

He arrived in the general assembly chamber a few minutes early, and watched the members of the world parliament come in. They came in two basic varieties.

Some were clearly in excellent moods and optimistic - it was hard to tell whether this was because of the occasion, because of drugs, or because of both. Weinberger's magic transformation - from a grey zombie to fire-breathing achiever in just a few minutes! - had resulted in many discreet enquiries, which in turn resulted in very busy mornings for John Knox.

The good doctor now had over a dozen patients coming in for treatment every day. He could have easily had many, many more, but he took on only those that were healthy. Heart conditions were a definite no-no, as was serious obesity.

This last hurdle felled quite a few national leaders. One Marshal Admiral President For Life of an unnamed country took great offence.

"You are saying I too fat?!" he had bellowed at Knox in broken English. "I too fat for your treatment?"

"You're definitely overweight," John Knox had said. "I mean, a hundred and twenty eight kilos of weight at a hundred and sixty eight centimeters of height is definitely excessive."

He had the impression the Marshal Admiral President For Life was about to reach for his holstered pistol, so he hastily added:

"You're a very big man. And in my opinion, you don't need any treatments to improve."

It had been the right thing to say. The Marshal Admiral President For Life still bristled, but his hand moved away from the holster and stroked his mustache instead.

From what Brock could see, the optimists were a distinct minority. Most of the people that entered the general assembly chamber seemed depressed. Luckily, only a very few looked both angry and determined. Brock's experience told him those would be the guys that would make things difficult.

Of course, he was beyond their line of fire. He was just a governor and member of parliament like everyone else. He saw that Odongo was ushering in a small group of experts; he recognized Olaf Troll instantly, even though almost completely hidden from sight by the others. There was also that delectable Patel woman, that Worst idiot, Katz, Molito, and a couple of faces that were new to Brock.

He felt fresh admiration for Odongo. What a neat move! It would be the experts that would take all the flak from the determined, unhappy members present. It was obvious that Odongo was setting up everything that way - the experts were being seated on stage, each behind a little table for the stuff they'd brought with them.

The members were being shoehorned into a question and answer session! Brilliant, just brilliant. None of the angry members could hope to outwit and out-talk an expert, maybe with the exception of Brock himself, and he wasn't about to propose changing anything. Things were fine as they were.

Odongo performed a check on everyone present: there was a total of eighty one members in the general assembly chamber. Ten more than the absolute majority required to win the vote. Odongo introduced the experts to everyone, and Brock learned that the two new faces belonged to scientists: an astrophysician and a statistician.

Following the introductions, Odongo said:

"If anyone wants to introduce a motion, or ask a question, please raise your hand. We'll go row by row, from back to front. We'll move to vote on everything, point by point, right after that."

Instantly a forest of hands shot up, and Brock groaned inwardly. He was trapped in there forever! He had taken care to seat himself at the back: it carried a double benefit. It made him appear modest, and allowed discreet use of the silver flask.

There were three other parliament members seated in the last row with Brock. He was angry to see one of them - a desiccated woman who properly belonged in a museum featuring mummies - had raised her hand.

"The honorable member for Azerbaijan," Odongo said equably. The woman bent to the microphone on the desktop in front of her.

"I like to know what we really dealing with," she said. "I like to know what this New World really is and where it come from. I don't believe this glowing scroll. To me it is a practical joke."

"Professor Berli," Odongo said smoothly, and smiled at the astrophysicist. He was as old and wrinkled as the woman, and thus started on an equal footing.

"I agree with the member for Azerbaijan," he wheezed into his microphone. "It may appear to be a joke. But in absence of relevant facts, we must take it seriously. Especially since the arrival of those cubes has caused such upheaval. In my opinion, those cubes were mini-portals to another world, the world inhabited by our great-great-great grandchildren. Specially designed to admit only one-way traffic in selected artifacts: the implant kits, the scrolls, the mats referred to as hiber beds. They're definitely for real, wouldn't you agree?"

"But this New World," persisted the Azerbaijani horror, "What is it exactly? How did it take shape?"

Berli cackled wickedly and said:

"You must realize something first. Eighty five percent of our known universe is composed of something we call dark matter. We know next to nothing about dark matter and dark energy. We know it's there, but that's it. Our whole scientific knowledge of the universe is based on the fifteen percent that we do know - more or less.

"So the best I can give you is an informed guess, at best a fifteen-percent-informed guess. The New World is a copy of Earth in a universe that is a copy of our own, and exists in another dimension. Or rather another set of dimensions. There are anomalies of space and time present, there is a really big time anomaly - time flows ten times faster than on Earth, yet time flow feels the same. There are also questions regarding scale. It seems everything but the land masses is on a much smaller scale, again estimated at ten times smaller than what we have here. These are the initial findings, very initial findings."

"It is very little to go on," insisted the mummy.

"It is enough."

"How can you say this? You admit you know next to nothing! How can you say that's enough?"

"Madam," said professor Berli. "We are presently on a continent that wasn't supposed to exist, six hundred years ago. And when it was discovered, everyone thought it was part of Asia. So as you can see, forging forward in spite of having little or no information can bring very great rewards."

"Why can't we all wait with this New World until we know more?" demanded the mummy.

"Because we're unlikely to know more. Not for a long, long time. Practically all advanced scientific equipment around the world is presently disabled. There's not much we can do except think. And every thinking person recognizes the New World as an opportunity, not a problem. Thank you."

Brock was full of admiration for professor Berli. What a smooth move! He glanced sideways and saw the others seated in his row were focusing on the Azerbaijani horror. He quickly took out his flask, and had a swig.

Better! Much better! That was the stuff to give to the troops. Brock consulted the flask at regular intervals through the next couple of hours, while the experts demolished all opposition with effortless skill. Things got really heated when one of the members - Brock was busy with his flask, and did not notice who it was - demanded a new legal code for the new world.

"I have talked to many lawyers," he said, "And all of them agree anything that happens in the New World is beyond their jurisdiction. In other words, the way things are now **** and murder are perfectly legal in the New World. So is slavery, and from what I heard there is real potential for slavery to develop in the New World. I refuse to support any move made without a proper legal framework being present."

To Brock's great surprise, Odongo did not ask Jean Caron to deal with that. Jean Caron was surprised, too: he was already leaning to speak into his microphone.

Odongo said:

"All of you here are national territory governors. All of you here can introduce whatever legal codes you want on the territories under your care. You want to penalize **** and murder? Very good! Then penalize it however you like, with death if you feel that's appropriate."

A murmur ran through the assembly, and Brock could hear from its tone that most members were very happy with that solution.

"However," Odongo said, catching the whispering members by surprise, "Before you introduce your very own penal code, there are two things you must consider. You must be able to enforce it, otherwise it will become a farce, and breed contempt for the letter of the law.

"The other consideration is that your laws must make sense. Laws that don't make sense breed contempt for the law in general. It doesn't take much effort to realize this has very bad consequences. Young people are especially disillusioned, being high-principled. As a result they enter adulthood with the conviction that law is something stupid, and shouldn't be respected. We've all seen that happen, and you know it's true. So when you begin introducing your laws in the New World - only wise, well-thought-out laws, please, laws that increase respect for the law instead of diminishing it."

The uneasy silence among the assembled members clearly signified they'd never thought of that, even though many had already rewritten entire constitutions in the countries they led and represented.

The discussion moved onto economic matters. Predictably, a lot of members complained about money. There just wasn't enough money around! They wanted more money! But they were no match for the one and only Olaf Troll.

"You want more money? Then make some," he said. "You can. It's entirely up to you. You can issue written guarantees to people if there's a shortage of coins. You have what's known as a blank check. You can do anything you like."

Then it was Weinberger's turn, and he announced his proposal that the new world government effectively seize control of all fiscal matters in both worlds. Local governments would receive half of all receipts on corresponding levels. Each governor would transfer half the money earned in his domain to the government of the corresponding Earth territory. For example, a national governor would transfer money to its elected national government; a district governor - to a mayor, or maybe a borough council. Brock grimaced when he heard that, even though he'd known for quite a while he would be basically giving money to that Penny asshole.

The assembled members really liked the idea of controlling all the money in both worlds. There was even some scattered applause. Odongo took full advantage: he asked if there were any more questions, and a couple of seconds later announced an end to the discussion. It was time to vote!

It went smoothly and it went fast, so fast Brock was pleasantly surprised. Everything was approved; sometimes there would be a couple of dissenters, but never enough to upset the absolute majority required on each vote.

By six o'clock, the die was cast.

In just three days' time, the greatest free-for-all in the history of humankind would begin.

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