ASSOCIATION / CH. 12:CHARTERED ASSOCIATION
MONDAY 8TH JAN 2272, 9.30AM, I.H.M.
“Hi Horace, you said you'd been able to make sense out of your circuit?”
“Yes, and it did exactly what I said when you first showed me the pieces.” he said, still a little embarrassed that he hadn't recognised his own work. “It's a series of oscillators and amplifiers.”
“Yes, but what does it do?”
“OK, dredging up ancient memories, buried under the silt of years, Christine asked me if I could help make something to help her boss sleep at night, which was as deceitful a piece of misdirection as I've heard in a long time. The intention was to induce a certain low-level pattern in the brain that he found restful. I said what a load of rubbish, she said humour him, please, multi-millionaires get these silly ideas sometimes, and he was planning to make a donation the Institute would be interested in. Well, I designed it and then redesigned it to have shorter scalp connections, and your father paid me, and gave the institute a thank-you present of some names we might try contacting and a pile of money to continue research. End of story as far as I was concerned.”
“And from Dad's notes?”
“Now they are more interesting, it looks like he was trying to persuade your brain to copy your mother's thought patterns when she was hiding her thoughts. Did you see that note about you being a late developer with your power?”
“Yes. I guess it explains a lot. I hardly have any memories of hearing people's thoughts. If Mum was afraid that I'd get the power, then that wouldn't help me do that now, would it?”
“No. It's probably not the healthiest mental environment to grow up in. I'm not sure that tiara counts as healthy either, knowing more now than I did then. Particularly to use it on a child. I'm not saying your parents didn't have your best in mind, Sarah, but... I think they were taking bigger risks than they or I knew at the time.”
“Can you elaborate?”
“We know that somehow you thought-hearers pick up and interpret a broad-spectrum of ultrasound and R.F.”
“Yes. And that I once got really cross with John for saying it was radio.”
“Well, we've always known that if you plug a human into an oscilloscope you pick up noise. And just because it's radio frequency, that doesn't mean you're acting like a radio. I'm pretty sure you're not, I mean, your brain ignores electrical signals, and ignores ultrasound signals too, or at least, it does except for decisions. My guess is that what you hear is some kind of cross-modulation of the electric and the ultrasound components, as transmitted along your nerve cells. In other words, it's messy and complicated.”
“I'll agree with you on that point.”
“But if what your Dad was trying to do with your tiara was to persuade your brain that it was hiding your thoughts, what I guess it did was scramble the cross-modulation. Once it was gone, you got some decisions affecting you, and you got the pain, but you didn't get thoughts, which sort of confirms that, at least to my mind. Your brain was still trying to process what it got, but it had given up on one source of input and was struggling on the rest.
"Now, your Dad says he tried it on himself and your mum couldn't hear his thoughts or decisions any more. Wonderful. We know it wasn't interfering with the ultrasound aspect, or at least, it wasn't unless there was a bad mistake in the construction. So, I've been trying to pull these thoughts together, and on Friday I saw some implications. Tell me if you think I'm wrong about this: since it didn't interfere with ultrasound, but it did with electrical, it doesn't really make sense for decisions to be over ultrasound, because it did block them.”
“But that can't be right, surely? I thought we'd worked out that decisions had to be over ultrasound? It fits so much better. I mean, closing a door would have much more of an ultrasound effect than on radio. And I thought you just said that the one it wasn't numbing was what was recovered. I.e. ultrasound.”
“Reluctantly, I reached the same conclusion. So, my next thought was how does electrical interfere with ultrasound interpretation if it's not interfering with ultrasound reception?”
“Urm... because it was interfering with the interpreter?”
“That was my thought. Sarah, you know you made your school records available to me? Have you actually looked at them? I had another look after I had thought of that.”
“Well, I know they took a plummet with my parent's death, but that's only to be expected.”
“And then with the destruction of your tiara then your grades in comprehension went up again. One of your teachers wrote something like 'It's been a long time, but it looks like Sarah's brain has suddenly turned on again.'”
Sarah was quiet for a while “So the tiara interfered with my ability to understand things?”
“I expect so, yes.”
“Ouch. I don't think we should be suggesting anyone would want to use it then, should we?”
“Not really.”
“I'd talked to Maria about it, I guess I'd better tell her it's a dangerous dead end.”
“When you do, then you can tell her I cobbled an equivalent together with my signal generators and an EEG hat and tried it out.”
“You did? That sounds like a silly thing to do.”
“I wouldn't have risked it if you didn't have that report of instant recovery, have no fear. And Ivan was helping.” He shrugged. “Taking risks for science is all part of the game.”
“And the results were?”
“When it was on, it was a bit like being drunk. Depending on exactly where the contacts were, it varied between mild confusion and at the worst I couldn't really understand complex sentences.”
“Ouch. OK. I'll certainly pass that on. Thanks, Horrace. I still think it was a crazy risk.”
“Ah, but there's a paper in it somewhere, I'm sure.”
“You'd have to leave out critical elements, surely.”
“Yes. I think I'd call it something like revisiting an old experiment. If I describe the purpose as seeking to induce sleep, would you be happy?”
“So you'd describe my dad's device, without his name, I hope, and without the exact specification?”
“Yes. And state that I'd advised against it, at the time, as witnesses agree.”
“OK, and publish it as saying I was right, it's a stupid thing to do?”
“Yes. Could I describe your hiding as a certain meditative state?”
“Yes, that'd be fine.”
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MONDAY 8TH JAN 2272, 12.40PM, I.H.M.
“Hi, Sarah, your message said you'd got bad news about your Tiara?” Maria asked.
“Yes. I've got access to Dad's files, and Horrace has been doing some tests. It doesn't do what Dad wanted it to do, not really.”
“So it doesn't hide thoughts?”
“Hmm. Maybe. Dad's notes said it did, but the side-effects aren't good. Working out how it must have worked, it looked rather like it was interfering with basic cognition, and then Horrace pointed out that my teacher had written 'It looks like Sarah's brain has turned on again' when it got broken.”
“Uh-oh,” Maria said, understanding immediately.
“And being the mad scientist he is, he mocked it up using some signal generators and an EEG hat. He said that depending on where he put it, it gave him the reasoning skills of a drunk: anything from mild confusion to making him unable to understand complex sentences. I didn't think you'd like the thought of couriers not being able to follow directions to the train station.”
“Certainly not. OK, Sarah, I'm more than happy for you to destroy the plans.”
“Maria, Horrace is thinking of a 'don't do this' sort of paper. Any thoughts from your point of view?”
“Well, if it turns off people's brains, that makes it a weapon or the people into weapons, doesn't it? I think I'd personally be happier if no one tells our less scrupulous enemies that there's a way of turning soldiers or criminals into mindless morons at the flick of a switch.”
“Good thought. I'll raise that point with him.”
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MONDAY 8TH JAN 2272, 4.30PM
“Mum! Mum!” May called out, excitedly as soon as she got home from school.
“What is it? Has lover boy come visiting, again?” Alice asked.
“Alice stop teasing,” Hannah reproved her daughter. Although Q.Q. did seem to
be visiting an awful lot for just a friend. “What is it, May?”
“A message got delivered to school, by hand. I got called to see the head. Look!” She showed the piece of card, a royal summons.
“Gold embossed, no less!” Hannah said, taking it in.
“What does it say? Why did it go to your school?” Alice asked. “You don't live there.”
“No, but the school did need to see it,” Hannah said. “Thursday. Well! That's sooner than I thought. 'with press conference', so you'd better work out what you're going to wear as a truthsayer, hadn't you?”
“I still think you should wear a cat mask.” Alice said, getting ready to flee.
“Too silly,” May said, absent mindedly. “White veil: bride. Black veil: widow. So they're out. Green veil?”
“You'll look like a tree.” Alice said, being helpful since teasing hadn't worked.
“Yellow? Blue?”
“Do you need a veil?” Hannah asked.
“I don't want to look like an idiot, I don't want to look funny, I don't want to look like a mime artist. I don't want to be recognised as who I am, I do want to be recognised as what I am.”
“What are you? Other than in lurve with Q.Q.”
“Alice!” Hannah and May warned in unison.
“What about some other sort of mask?” Hannah asked.
“I don't know. The advantage of cloth is it can be hidden well.”
“Talk to Sarah, May. Maybe she's got ideas.”
“Oh! I'm dumb!”
“Knew it!” Alice interrupted.
“Shut up squirt, or I'll squish you.”
“What is it?” Hannah asked.
“Sarah was going to get some graphics design people onto it. I wonder if there's been any replies yet.”
“If not, they're going to be too late.”
“If you could get it done in town on Wednesday, Mum, we could pick this time tomorrow, maybe.” May said.
“Hmm. Yes. Well, you call Sarah, May. Got any homework?”
“Yes, lots. I hope this won't take long.”
“I think you ought to warn Q.Q. not to come then. You know how often he 'just happens to be near.'”
“Yeah. I know. But... I don't want to make him think I'm pushing him away, Mum.”
“May's in lu-uv! May's in lu-uv!” Alice taunted.
“Was I like this at Alice's age, Mum?” over Alice's continued chant.
“Not quite the same, May.” Hannah said, putting the summons down. “Alice! Stop it and go do your homework. When you've done your homework you can tidy your room, and vacuum clean it.”
“But, Mum!” Alice protested.
“No buts. You are being a deliberately irritating pest and you know it. I've told you to stop, and you're irritating me now. So go quick girl or it'll be worse.”
“Sorry, Mum.” Alice said, but didn't leave; she was looking at the summons.
“Alice!” Hannah warned, “Go and do your homework.”
“I'm going, I'm going.” Alice responded. “You're really going to the palace, May?”
“Yes, squirt, that's what this is all about. I'm going to have press interviews and everything, and I've got to have my veil on or I tell everyone they need to blurr out my face, unless I want everyone to recognise me in the street. And I'm not that fool-hardy.”
“You want guys in this? They won't want a veil. You want something like I had in the school play. That theatrical mask stuff.”
May looked at her sister in admiration “Hey, squirt, you're probably a genius. Isn't it horrible to wear?”
“Naah. It's not very sticky, just a bit, and it's all bendy too. They just smeared it on and then made it the right shape. It starts like whipped cream, but don't eat it.”
Hannah added “It gets to be like rubbery clay in about two minutes, I seem to remember, that's when they made it into shape, and then it's all set in about twenty minutes, if I remember rightly. Then they added the make up, and sprayed it with some sort of spray to stop that from smearing. They said you can sand it down and polish it to make it really pretty if you freeze it, or the other thing they do is make a mould for the front and then your face is the other half. Just remember to protect your eyebrows and eyelashes unless you want to lose them.”
“And then it's this flexible thing you can stuff in a pocket, is that right?”
“And wash it in a washing machine.” Hannah said. “So, talk to Sarah, suggest the stuff, and see what she thinks.”
----------------------------------------
“Hi, Sarah. I presume you've heard about Thursday?”
“Yes. Nervous?”
“Mostly about my uniform, or whatever we call it. Alice suggests using a theatrical mask stuff. Do you know it?”
“Not personally. I've always avoided theatres. But doesn't it take ages to put on?”
“No. Well, you need to make it fit your face, which takes a while, but then you can just take it on and off as much as you like, and wash it in a washing machine, mum says. Alice had one for her school play, so she's quite the little expert. It gives me a flexible face which isn't my own. Breathable too, apparently.”
“Sounds like it might be just the stuff, then.”
“Have you heard back from the graphic design people?”
“I've not checked recently. I notified them at lunchtime that we'd need the designs really really soon, since you'd be getting interviewed on Thursday, and we'd need to get it made. Should I tell them to think along the lines of this mask stuff?”
“I think it makes sense. I'm not opposed to a veil if that's what they've designed, but then I guess any men would want something different.”
“Probably. Veil certainly sounds female, doesn't it. Oh, I'm just checking my messages. One person has said sorry, no time, and another has replied that they can submit preliminary sketches only, too busy on other things. Hmmm. Well, it's concealing at least: Think variations on the theme of a bed-sheet ghost outfit. No apparent choice of colour.”
“That's not going to be very easy to hide on the way to an appointment, is it?”
“Not really.”
“Nothing else?”
“Yes, one just come in. Oh, it's Susan. You know, the ski-instructor's girlfriend?”
“Yes. What does she say?”
“She strongly recommends white, blue and yellow or gold, as colours that are most likely to make people think of truth, honesty and integrity. And she's sent in what she calls some early sketches. Blouse, shirt or T-shirt and matching masks. They look a bit like those paper ones you can get from a craft shop, if you know what I mean. The sketches are much better developed than the other one's preliminary sketches. She's sent various patterns for the mask but says these are still thought experiments and she's thinking of what she might actually want to recommend. She asks if this time tomorrow is too late, if not she'll try to get some reactions from people.”
“Wow. It sounds like she wants the commission.”
“She did say she wanted it. What do you think? Give her the extra time?”
“I think so. Can you tell her we're thinking of using that theatrical mask stuff if it makes a difference. I wish I knew the brand name. Something like false-skin or fake-skin, maybe? No, there was something about head or face in the name. I don't know. But tell her anyway.”
“Of course. So that'd mean that you could colour your neck too?”
“I wasn't thinking of going that low, but it would let me reshape my chin, for instance, and eat with the mask on. I guess it could cover my whole head, at the cost of a bigger package. I don't think a whole head thing would fit in a pocket though, which was my initial thought.”
“And it just sticks to your skin?”
“A bit, I know Alice could pull faces in it, but her mask had some strings to tie it on with, too, I seem to remember. She said it didn't get very sticky, which I guess means it's breathable.”
“OK. I'll tell Susan and the others who haven't replied yet that you've just thought of that stuff and what, that we'll decide tomorrow?”
“I think it should work.”
“What happens if we make a mess of the mask?”
“Apparently we can sand and polish it if we freeze it, but otherwise, I guess I'd better order a couple of cans of the stuff.”
“Who did Alice's face with it?”
“Mum was there, I can ask her. You're thinking of getting expert help?”
“Any reason why not, other than the money? It could save a lot of hassle.”
“Spreading information?”
“Good thought. There's no one in the clan who's a budding sculptor?”
“Hey, that's a good thought! I'll ask Mum. I'm sure there's someone.”
“And then you need to decide if you want to look like Mona Liza, a filmstar of your choice, a china doll, or what.”
“I think I want it to be clear I'm wearing a mask, not just make-up. Argh. I've just remembered, Sarah, one thought I had about a veil was it would help protect against someone just taking my photo and doing an iris scan on me. This won't do that, will it?”
“Reflective sunglasses ought to put a stop to that. Hey, why don't you embed some in? How do you fancy big gold eyes?”
“Mysterious, and just a tiny bit scary, don't you think? But glasses would be too rigid, don't you think? Plus it'd make it hard to stuff in a pocket. I do think that's important, if I want to change somewhere en-route.”
“OK, I'll keep thinking. And you'll get your mum thinking about who should sculpt it, and you'll arrange the stuff?”
“Yes.”
“OK, call me if you've got any other thoughts.”
“Don't worry, Sarah, I will!”
----------------------------------------
“Hi Susan, Sarah here.”
“Hi, Sarah. Am I on the right track?”
“Very much so. We've decided that we'll make the decision about this time tomorrow, and at the moment she's thinking of making the mask out of some kind of theatrical flexible mask stuff I've never heard of. False skin or fake skin or something like that, so that she isn't entirely without expression.”
“That's a very good idea. Might it be 'fake face'? It's excellent stuff.”
“Probably. You know it?”
“Yes. I've used it on myself actually, but it's better to have someone else to do it.”
“She's a bit worried, rightly so in my view, about someone doing an iris scan and ruining the whole point of the mask. I suggested embedding sunglasses, but she wants to be able to fold it up into a pocket for travel.”
“She's got sense. Sunglasses would ruin the flexibility too. But, fear not! They make compatible eye elements for all your real, mythical and fantasy creatures and aliens. I'm sure she'll be able to order something suitable. In fact, now I know you're using that, I'll have a look and recommend something if you like.”
“Thanks Susan. You're sure?”
“Of course! All part of the bid.”
“Susan, one of the others has dropped out, a second hasn't got time to do more than they've submitted. Let me just call your last two competitors, OK?”
“What are you thinking?”
“I'm going to ask them if they really want to be in the competition with such a tight deadline. If not we can might as well take the decision tonight.”
“Oh. OK.” Susan said, sounding disappointed.
“In which case, unless there's some hidden wonderfulness in your competitor's plans that my truthsayer spots, then you win.”
“I don't want to win the whole contract, just because everyone else drops out of one unusual part of branding with a short deadline, Sarah.”
“OK, if every else drops out, you win the uniform design, but we allow competition on other aspects of the branding, how's that suit you?”
“Much better. I want to win fair and square. Anything else is just going to win me more enemies than kudos.”
“Right. I'll contact your competitors about this section, and let everyone know what's happening. Bye!”
“Bye!”
[May, does 'fake face' sound right to you?]
[Yes, that's it!]
[Susan knows it, has used it herself apparently, and they do a whole selection of compatible eye inserts for your favourite creature, monster or alien. She's going to include recommendations in her bid tomorrow. She also insists that we don't drop people just because they can't meet this deadline, so it's only the uniform people are going for at the moment.]
[She wants the contract but only fairly?]
[Doesn't want the hate mail, she says.]
[Sounds like a sensible woman, I like her already.]
[Me too.]
[Thanks for letting me know. Does that mean I shouldn't order the stuff?]
[Probably. We'll just have to order it quick-delivery tomorrow. Somehow, I'd expect that theatre supplies are always urgent. This is a necessary work expense for you, by the way. Therefore, since you're not free-lance but my employee, I'm paying.]
[Far be it from me to argue with you on that.]
[Sensible girl. How's the homework?]
[I might finish it before midnight.]
[I won't keep you then. Bye.]
[Bye, Sarah.]
Contacting the other two competitors didn't take long. Both were relieved to hear that their work on other parts of the corporate brand wasn't wasted: one had been about to pull out because they hadn't come up with a costume they thought was right. The last one said they'd be able to submit designs tomorrow, using the theatrical mask and paying attention to avoiding iris scans. Susan had her real competition.
Sarah then wrote to everyone involved, with the final timetables and the new design parameters: a face mask from 'fake-face' that would fit in a small bag or pocket and include protection against an iris-scan without significantly affecting vision, and while other distinctive elements of clothing that would identify the wearer as a truth-sayer would be permitted, they would be optional-wear for the truthsayer concerned. Just the mask should be sufficient for uniform.
She added 'I know that some of you have already stated that you cannot produce designs for the uniform at such short notice, but at the insistence of one entrant who has submitted such designs, the second phase — that of other aspects of the corporate image, will be considered entirely separately. The rush for the uniform design is, as I explained earlier today, the unforeseen but perfectly reasonable news that there will be a press-briefing after the charter is granted. We feel it only appropriate for the founder member of the chartered association to address the press with her identity concealed by at least a prototype of her uniform. We foresee no need for the other elements of the corporate image to be rushed in this way, and would welcome your participation in the process. We apologise if the new restrictions on the design parameters for the uniform would require a redesign of anything done or even submitted already, but feel that it is only appropriate that all participants play on as level a playing field as possible. Any submission made before the deadline of 5pm on the 9th of Jan will be considered, even if you'd previously declined.'
Sarah then had another thought. [Eliza, are you free?]
[Yes, what is it?]
[Just checking... do you have any idea what the charter of the truthsayers association will actually say?]
[Somewhat. Why?]
[I can't remember if I only talked about the two types of members with you or with their Majesties too.]
[Oh, that's not going to be a problem. It says something like the association having the power to define its categories of membership, but that it may not admit anyone unworthy or permit anyone unworthy to remain a member. And then it's got stuff about procedures for dealing with anyone suspected of being unworthy.]
[Oh, that's great.]
[By the way, Albert and I are happy to apply.]
[Do you think that's wise? I don't imagine that you'd be turning up to annual general meetings, for instance, would you?]
[Would you? If the association gets big enough, I mean?]
[I'm not sure. But why?]
[There are various things that the charter says absolutly doesn't happen: For instance, dissemination of detailed minutes to non-members, disclosure of who's a member to non-members, that sort of thing. We can get round it partially by having Albert as the royal patron, I guess we might even have the both of us as patrons, but that's still not the same.]
[And there's no access to the register of members by other members?]
[Not automatic, no. Presumed, but not required in special circumstances. All that's actually required is that every member has a verifiable I.D. which tells people their membership number. And if someone's been suspended or rejected, then the verification server would say that.]
[I'm going to need to read that charter, aren't I?]
[I'm sure you do, yes. I assume you're going to be a member?]
[Yes. John and Kate too. And the institute's had some other enquiries.]
[Well, the annual general meeting won't be too lonely for May then.]
[No, it shouldn't be.]
[You're going to need a membership roster, aren't you, for the identity server to work? How are you going to stop that getting broken into?]
[We're going to split it, to start with. There's going to be an identity server which just knows membership numbers and I.D.s I guess with status too. And then we're going to have an entirely separate register somewhere else, which matches names to membership numbers.]
[And contact details, I presume.]
[Possibly. We might have those on a third system. What we might do, actually, is only have the name to number conversion in written form, and just have a nickname in the contact details. And of course, that'll all be encrypted on a data crystal or two.]
[On someone's diamond ring?]
[Maybe, I don't think we need to smuggle the data anywhere. What I am thinking is that if we split the file into quarters, say, and each of four people was missing a different quarter, then you'd need two people's crystals to get at the data, but it could be any two of the four.]
[But you'd need to update everyone's copies when there were changes.]
[Yes. That's where it gets tricky.]
[So, is it worth it?]
[If that contacts list holds class delta state secrets, what do you think?]
[Good point. Maybe we don't sign up then.]
[I've got another possibility.]
[Yes?]
[We invent a third category of members beside professional and secretive: unlisted ones, who pass the tests, and can have a role in the organisation, but whose contact details are not entered anywhere beyond their nickname.]
[So Albert and I would be unlisted?]
[Yes. And I think I'd want to be too. I think we'd say that professional members might be contacted for anything, secretive would only be asked about court work, say, and unlisted members would be people who wouln't normally be called on even for that, e.g. because they were pretty famous and there was a chance of the press following them, or public recognising them, but they'd like the rights and privileges of being a member.]
[Such as voting, and so on?]
[Yes. And having a truthsayer I.D. if they ever want to use it.]
[Excellent plan.]
[I'd better make a note of it.]
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TUESDAY 9TH JAN. REPUBLICAN POST
_Post journalist was right, says queen: need to pull rugs out from under royals feet_
Avid readers of our comments section will know that on Monday of last week, after his article about the King's New Year's day speech, Dan made some quip about discussing God with his Majesty, I asked if I could come too, he asked if that would count as a date and I replied that if he got me a visit to the palace to measure up for new carpets, then yes, OK.
Little did we know that the much commented on regular reader from the palace network was none other than the heir to the throne, and since the other news channels were under pressure from uninformed foreign owners to lay unfounded accusations of a constitutional crisis, the Post's was the only editorial concerning his Maj's plea to put aside our pride. But we do have things to be proud of; our constitution, for instance. But more on that later. So our little banter got read at the royal breakfast table, and shockingly enough Dan and I got invited to the palace on Friday night. After a delicious meal of spaghetti bolognese cooked by H.R.H Albert, the security officer once pegged as Albert's red-head even lent us all her bow and arrows for a little spot of archery. As my niece said (I was babysitting and so she and her brother got invited too) when the idea was suggested 'Heated debate about deeply held beliefs, the monarch, two convinced republicans and lethal weapons. What could possibly go wrong?' Well, what went wrong is that as her majesty and I were on our hands and knees measuring the rooms for new carpets, I knocked over a flower-pot. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
I must say, from beginning to end, our visit to the palace was a real eye opener. It shouldn't have been; I've read the constitution. We've al at least heard about Bob McDaniel's accounts of the royal week. But we leap to assumptions too easily, we assume that because we see the state rooms and important banquets that's the life of the royal family all the time. Our constitution says that we live in a constitutionally established servant-monarchy, that the king and his family are civil servants who live in civil service-supplied apartments in the palace complex. They do, and the carpets are getting tired. Almost the first thing her Majesty asked me was how I knew they needed new carpets.
We assume that that there is intricate carving and gold leaf, cleaned by an army of staff. 'Do you know how much just one security-cleared cleaner costs?' his majesty asked, because like any civil servant, getting in outside help for their personal apartment gets charged to their personal funds. Her majesty asked me, in turn 'Have you any idea how hard it is to clean carved wood panels?' very thankful that she didn't have that to contend with. This was a little before his majesty got ready to do the washing up. He also does minor plumbing around the flat, just like any other civil servant might who knew how, in order to keep down the costs for the family budget. You and I, when we consider getting new carpets or furniture, have the option of taking out a loan. Their majesties don't have that option, so, they've still got the carpets that Prince Albert spilt paint on when he was little, incidentally where I knocked over the pot-plant. I saw the stain. And the dining table shows signs of when his grandfather got him a woodwork set for his sixth birthday. By the way, grandparents, if you do that, I recommend you also supply some wood for the boy or girl to try out his/her saw on.
Our monarch and his family don't live in a beautifully gilded cage at our expense, instead, anything in their personal space except for the security guards comes from their own pockets. I wonder how many republics can say the same? They also maintain a clear division between their private and work lives, even having separate wardrobes for official and personal wear. They do live in a sort of cage: there are real threats to them on a regular basis, and many areas of their lives are constrained by them. Nor are they allowed to express a preference for a certain shop's produce, rummage through the end-of-season sales, or nip out for a take-away if they can't be bothered to cook. Some people, his Majesty pointed out, might say that their majesties shouldn't be considering buying new carpets when we're expecting the impact, but on the other hand, they've been saving up for a few years, and if they leave it much longer then maybe they'll feel ashamed to invite journalists around for tea. That would be a real loss, because our royal servants made us feel very welcome in their home. So we had that discussion as well as the one about God and the one about the constitution. And the one about Eliza's father turning to God, which happened on Friday afternoon — see Dan's forthcoming interview. I must say, what faith Dan and I had in the non-existence of miracles, and of God, has taken a real beating this last week.
So, their majesties have managed to challenge our thoughts on those matters, but what about my reasonable faith that a republic is far superior to an absolute monarchy? Totally firm. Or a constitutional monarchy? We know that's such a vague term, that when you come down to it, it's almost void. There are some monarchies in history where the constitution gives the monarch absolute rule, aren't there? But then, there are `republics' where inheritance plays a big part in determining who gets in. So maybe `republic' needs defining too. So, my eyes have been opened, and having seen what I have... is it right to call our royal family privileged? Maybe, in the sense of private law since there are special laws that exist just for them, which the rest of us don't need to worry about as much and I'm not sure we'd like that imposed on us. Is it right to call them wealthy? Not really. Is it right to say they're living in luxury? I don't think so. Are they idle? Far from it. Are they costing us lots? Not personally. Parliament has decided that there should be state rooms, gold leaf, and banquets as a matter of national pride. That costs us a lot more than our servant monarchy, but would we have less if we were a republic? I don't know that that would be a forgone conclusion. Parliament could decide that we don't need those expensive trappings. Our servant-monarch, his wife and his successor might even breathe a sigh of relief. But if we value them we won't skimp on security. And I do think they should be valued.
I had assumed that the word 'servant' was something in the constitution that was just paid lip-service to. What I saw on Friday was either a very cunningly orchestrated deception or clear evidence that an attitude of servanthood is alive and well in the royal flat in the palace. And if it was an orchestrated deception, then why did the prince's bolognese sauce and his majesty's chocolate cake taste so good?
We must be clearer in our terminology, and remember to pour scorn on those who insist on calling what we live in a 'monarchy' or a 'constitutional monarchy'. We don't: we live in a servant-monarchy. What would a republic governed by a servant-president look like, I wonder? Would anyone of the right qualities apply for the job? I know I wouldn't: I value my freedom too much.
Our servant-king is not an absolute monarch, ruling on the basis of whim. He seems to have committed his life to trying to look at how every decision will affect our nation twenty-plus years in advance. And as he pointed out, that's not something a politician who's going to stand for election can easily do. I agree. Perhaps a presidency until retirement is more appropriate? But that might make us a gerontocracy. Hmm, that's not particularly palatable either.
Would I say every kind of republic superior to a servant monarchy? No. To be precise, I think that there are many sorts of republics that are very much inferior to the system we have, and that when our ancestors wrote our constitution and swapped our previous money-grabbing and corrupt republic for what we have, they were learning from a lot of past mistakes. But... can't we come up with something better than heredity for choosing who gets thirty plus years training in being heir?
Coming up in the next edition: Exclusive interview: Roland Underwood explains how he realised he'd been fighting the wrong fight.
----------------------------------------
4.45PM, TUESDAY 9TH JAN, I.H.M.
“Hi May, Welcome!” Sarah said.
“I'm still confused about why we're meeting here.”
“Because although you're the founding member, I thought that the more input the better. I've also got a proposal for a third membership category.”
“A third one?”
“Yes. Unlisted members, who don't have full contact details listed.”
“Urm, sounds interesting. So how do we contact them?”
“Some people know who they are, but not everyone, that's the thing. I'll explain when we're in the meeting room.”
“Who's providing the extra input?”
“Patience, patience!” Sarah said, ushering her into the room, and blocking her view of people behind the door.
“Hi May!” Kara said. “I didn't think it was fair for you to keep all the fun to yourself. And I might not have had as much face-to-face time with Mama as you did, but she did teach me quite a bit. Kate says she'll pass me, but I'm on probation.”
“John said he thought I'd probably do too, eventually.” Q.Q said, stepping out beside Kara. A bit too close for May's comfort.
“But I'm only passed as an apprentice, because I'm not sixteen yet.” Rhianna added.
“So, has everyone been introduced to everyone?” Sarah asked. They confirmed they had. “Since not everyone knows what's happening, I'll summarise. I got told by the palace today that, before Thursday, there needs to have been an initial meeting of people intending to form the Chartered Association of Truthsayers. At least five people, preferably more. Since Kara, Q.Q and Rhianna had expressed interest in joining, and we need to decide on what May and I have decided to call the truthsayer uniform, for want of a better name, I thought why not get them tested out this afternoon and combine everything. I was just telling May, I think we need three classes of members. If we're going to have apprentices and probationers too then that makes five, and people are going to get confused. I suggest only four, because everyone is on probation, permanently. One line in the charter says that we don't let anyone stay a member who isn't worthy. We'll need to police ourselves, and we're accountable to the crown to do that.”
“So, we've got professional members — who, like May, are going to be walking into companies in uniform. We're also allowing a category of members who aren't expecting to be doing that, but are willing to be expert witnesses for courts, say.”
Kate took over. “We're also going to have some members who, like Sarah, for instance, are recognisable, and might attract press attention if we were were spotted entering a court. But, on the other hand, are ready to be part of the association, but in the background. Sarah's had an enquiry from someone who's certainly in that category. We propose that we don't need to keep contact details of such people, and that a nick-name is sufficient. We can issue them with an I.D. if they ever need to prove themselves, but we don't expect them to do that very often.”
“To make it a little simpler,” Kara suggested “We could actually just have members, who either are or are not in the contact list. Then people in the contact list say if they're available for court and/or professional work.”
“I like it.” John agreed “That means that if someone's a professional, but terrified of courts, say, they wouldn't constantly feel under pressure to accept a courtroom task.”
“And celebrities and minors wouldn't be in the contact list.” Sarah said. “I like it.”
“But all would have the I.D., and be permitted to wear the funky outfit?” Kara asked.
“Or un-funky outfit, depending what we decide. I think so.” Sarah agreed. “Everyone else?” there were nods.
“I'm glad we all agree, but that brings me a question. Costs. Eventually, we want the association to pay its own bills. Do we require an exact design of uniform, and if so, who pays for it? And who pays the recurring costs, like running the I.D. server not to mention secretarial support? Do we require people to pay an fixed annual subscription, an admission fee, both? Or do we ask that those who gain the most from the association pay more? Do we charge companies a fee for making contact, like a recruiting firm does, bearing in mind that if we make that too high, that's going to encourage them to think about avoiding using the association.”
“Do we have any idea what any of those fixed costs might be, Sarah?”
“Not really. But I think we do need to discuss it now, because if, say, Rhianna finds that she can join but can't afford the membership fees, then that's not going to be pleasant for her.”
“Yes. What benefit would there be for someone below working age to be part of the association?” Q.Q. asked.
“Having a voice in what gets decided?” Rhianna suggested.
“I think we should have some kind of fixed fee, which for people who can't work is minimal, plus elements from everything Sarah's suggested.” May said.
Kate winced. “Why so complex?”
“Because we all need the I.D. server. The secretarial support is there to meet the needs of the companies, it doesn't benefit Rhianna or people whose name isn't on the contact list, and, like Sarah says, companies are used to paying recruiting firms.”
“Some firms are. Others do it in-house, as does the government.” Sarah pointed out.
“We really have no idea how much a company will be willing to pay, do we?” John asked.
“Not really.” Sarah agreed. “And so we don't know whether you're going to be able to charge like a lawyer or like a part-time cleaner.”
“Or a secretary.” May said.
“What I will say, is that I expect the amount companies will be willing to pay depends on the professionalism you display and the significance of the deal. So, what we're doing is stepping out into the unknown, and I expect we'll need to revisit this discussion a number of times.” Sarah summarised “What we do know is that the Ministry of Justice has said that they'd like to run a series of experiments, comparing the abilities of a truthsayer with a standard polygraph-type lie detector, and despite the fact that they know there are people with the power in Security, they feel that it is better that the association provide truthsayers.”
“Would there be a place for truthsayers who are in the Civil Service?” May asked.
“Yes. I think there certainly would, but I'd assume that we'd be certifying them and checking up on them, but then their civil service contract would mean that they gain very little personal benefit from it at all.” Kate said.
“So we'll need to work out what to charge the government for certifying and checking up on people?” Kara asked.
“Yes.” Sarah said.
“Can we decide anything with such little data?” Rhianna asked.
“I think so.” May replied. “We can decide not to price you out of the association, we can decide that we ask Sarah to keep funding us for six months or a year, or how long before we look at it again, and we can decide that people need to pay for their own uniforms, but that they're produced in-house, for instance.”
“I think we'll say adults pay for their own uniforms.” Sarah said, “Else we'll risk pricing the likes of Rhianna out.”
“Is there a minimum age limit?” Q.Q. asked.
“There needs to be.” Rhianna said “You can't have a five year old member.”
“Agreed. I think that your age is about the lowest, actually, Rhianna.” Sarah said. “Or we might even be making an exception for you.”
“Ohh, thanks. I think. Can I know why?”
“Being blunt... this is supposed to be a professional organisation, and fourteen is a bit young to be a professional anything.”
“So make yourself useful, kiddo.” Quentin said.
“No, Q.Q., this isn't about being useful or exploiting child labour.” John corrected “This is about whether there's any benefit to Rhianna. Or even Kara and yourself.”
“Obviously one advantage would be if being a member would give her additional opportunities for training.” Kate said, “and since the answer is probably, even though you know one another, she's invited. But we'll need to be monitoring that. And since you've got some growing to do, Rhianna, I'm not sure it's worth making you a mask straight away. But then I don't think it's worth making anyone except May a mask straight away, so don't feel picked on.”
“I won't.” she agreed.
“Sarah, you spoke earlier about needing to charge things to the association if we were in uniform. How will that work?” John asked.
“We'll register the IDs with the association's bank, and allow charges to be made against the association's account, with a reference to the sub-account of the individual. You'll then be settle up at the end of each month. Of course, if you get employers to pay to that I.D. which might only be sensible, then the association would need to settle up with you.”
“But, I'm confused. Won't the I.D. come back and say I'm certified to be Rhianna Quy?”
“No, it'll come back and say you're certified to be professional truthsayer registration number three zero nine, or three zero nine zero one.”
“As in number three, today?”
“Any objections?”
“Who's number one?” May asked.
“You.” Kara said, “this whole organisation is being set up so you can help Sarah, so you'd better be registration number one.”
“I meant one zero nine. But.. are you sure?”
“Yes,” Sarah said, “Founder ought to be number one.”
“And Sarah, your number two?” May asked.
“I think I'll be one zero eight, if that's OK with everyone. Because I wasn't really sure I should join until we thought of the hidden members yesterday. And I'd like to announce that numbers two zero eight and three zero eight are taken.”
“I was about to say that I'd be two zero eight.” John said.
“Oh, let him, Sarah, unless you've actually promised those numbers.”
“Oh, OK, John, you be two zero eight and the other two can be three and four.”
“So does that make me one zero nine?” Kara asked.
“Yes. And I'll be two zero nine, if that's OK?” Kate asked.
“Oh. OK.” Q.Q said. “I thought that'd be me.”
“No, Q.Q.” John said. “You knew you wanted to be a truthsayer quite a few days ago, didn't you?”
“Urm, yes.” he said, blushing slightly as he stole a glance at May.
“So, I propose Q.Q. is either number two or one thirty one.”
“Oh, come and be a number one hundred and something, next to me, Q.Q.” Kara said, fluttering her eyelids.
May looked at Q.Q. The thirty first? That was his first visit, on new-years eve. She hid her thoughts quickly. He'd decided then? He'd told Ruben that he thought he had a lot more to learn. She had too, of course. Like how to deal with her feelings for him. He was open, he was fighting his sin. And she didn't like the way that Kara flirted with him. “It's a bit lonely being the only person with a one digit number, would you mind being truthsayer two, Q.Q?”
“Not at all May.” he said, hiding his thoughts.
“So much for the power of your eyelashes, Kara.” Kate said, knowingly.
“Hmm. I need to talk to you three, don't I?” Sarah said.
“Probably.” Kara agreed quickly.
“Not together though.” May said.
“O.K. Individual talks scheduled sometime,” Sarah said, “Now, can we move on to judging? It's past the deadline, and I've not had any more replies.”
“Absolutely.” Kate said. “I want to see what I've just let myself into wearing.”
“Right.” Sarah said. “We have four competitors, despite the fact yesterday it looked like we had two and a half. So, the final parameters were: a mask made of the flexible material known as fake-face, able to be hidden in a pocket or small bag, no required other clothes, so that someone can be in uniform and recognisable with just the mask, although I did say they could suggest a more complete outfit if they wanted to. I also specified that eyes shouldn't be susceptible to an iris scan, but without significantly affecting vision. May, do you have Alice's mask?”
“Yes, here it is.” she passed it to Kate. Alice had been the wicked witch, a role she'd enjoyed enormously. The mask was a sickly green, with warts and scars, and a long hooked nose.
“As you see, it's a flexible material. It's also breathable, and it's supposed to naturally stick to your skin just enough to make it look like it's your real face if you get the makeup right. Obviously they didn't quite manage that with Alice's.”
“No, but they got her personality just right.” Kara said, with a smile.
“Now, children!” Sarah warned. “Be nice.”
“She did enjoy the role.” May said, “And said it didn't get very sticky.”
“We've had other people saying much the same thing. According to the manufacturer's site its structure naturally removes perspiration to the surface and conducts heat like skin, I'm sure there's a bit of exaggeration there, but it's supposed to be as comfortable as anything going. That means it's not especially cheap, but people in the know say it's worth it. Oh, and you can machine wash it. Like I said, we have four contestants. I know who they are, so I'm sitting out of the voting unless there's a tie. Contestant number one offers us the following.” She put the designs on one of the screens in the room. It was a harlequin-style face mask, of white and blue diamonds with a yellow grid, with a third eye in the middle of the forehead. It was certainly noticeable. May hoped the colour scheme didn't mean it was Susan's. She didn't really like it.
“Contestant number two. Sent us this.”
May couldn't help laughing. Bed-sheet ghosts with alien faces.
“Now, remember, we're only really judging this on the masks.”
The mask was... angular, royal blue, with a sword motif in yellow from the forehead to the chin. It was striking, certainly. Then Sarah changed the view to look at the side image. It wasn't a picture of a sword, she saw. It was three-dimensional dagger.
“How on earth are we supposed to eat with that dagger in front of our mouths?” She exclaimed.
“Pass.” John said. “It looked possible before you showed us the side view, Sarah.”
“My thoughts exactly, until you realise that unless you see the mask face on,
you've got this odd yellow stripe down your nose which looks a bit silly. I suspect that's why they decided it'd be a real dagger. You also might also have noticed that the eyes just have a clear lens with some dots on them. I expect that'll make looking in certain directions hard and give you eye strain. So, candidate three.”
A third mask came on the screen, blue yellow and white again, May saw. The face was a familiar looking woman, but blue, with a white 'blindfold' covering the top half of her face and golden eyes making the pans of a balance.
“Mona Lisa as blue goddess of justice?” Q.Q. asked.
“You're right.” May agreed. A blue Mona Lisa. “How would you like to look that pretty Q.Q?”
“Oh, thanks.”
“The artist said that they've done this as a female mask, and didn't have time for a male one, but they were thinking of maybe a famous film-star, or musician.” Sarah said.
“That gets us in trouble with rights owners, doesn't it?” Kate asked.
“Probably.” Sarah agreed “Unless they're long-dead, like Elvis Presley.”
“Let me state, here and now, I do not want to look like Elvis. Not even a blue version.” Q.Q. said.
“Your vote is noted.” Sarah said, with a smile. “Candidate four has sent us this.”
Quentin watched. They'd sent an animation; it showed head and shoulders of a dark skinned, dark haired woman with the mask on, turning around, so you could see it from all angles. Quentin wondered about the hair and skin colour of the woman. Was it coincidence, or had the applicant seen May? Again, blue, gold and white. Again the face had reflective golden eyes. But this face was gender neutral, just... average human, and whereas the others had focussed on standard images of the sword and the scales of justice, this image had white words on the blue face. On the left cheek, was 'Yes be yes' and on the right 'No be no'. On the forehead, a single word, 'TRUTH'. After a while the image changed, it was the same design, but the face was white and the words blue, underneath, some writing came into view.
“Truth? I think the first one's better.” May said.
Q.Q. agreed. The animation switched to the first face again and zoomed into the lips of the mask, and he saw that they weren't a paler blue, as he'd thought from the earlier view, but they also had words on them 'Let no lie pass' It was double-edged he realised, the truthsayer would try to let no lie pass unchallenged, but in doing that, they needed to be fully honest. No lie should pass their lips either. The mask was a warning to the person wearing it as well as to the person they were facing. He had no doubts which he thought was the best mask. “It gives a whole new meaning to 'read my lips', doesn't it?”
“I'd like to state that I told the computer to randomise these, the order is not my doing.” Sarah said. “Would anyone like to see any of the first three entries again?”
“I think we should.” Kate said. “Just for fairness.”
“I disagree.” May said. “I think it's fairest if we just let the others know they've lost.”
“May, this is supposed to be a secret ballot.” Sarah said.
“Let no lie pass.” May said. “That is so powerful.”
“Especially there, at the lips.” Q.Q. said “Let no lie pass our lips, and my lips let no lie pass unchallenged.”
Kara wiped the tears from her eyes. “I don't think I'm ready for this job, but I'd love to be. That's what it's all about. It's not about scales or swords, those are justice and judgement, not truth. I know they go together, but no, this is what it's about. Not letting lies proliferate.”
“The sword can be truth as well as judgement.” Kate said. “But yes, I agree.”
“But... that's so detailed.” Rhianna said. “Is there a way of rubbing it out if we make a mistake? If not we're going to ruin so many masks!
Can we really get that level of detail onto the mask? Reliably?”
“Yes.” Sarah said. “I'm pretty sure that Pete's machine can do it easily, don't you think Kate?”
“I'd forgotten that!” May exclaimed. “Of course!”
“Yes, Sarah. Pete's machine can do it, at least, if the colors are food colourant powders.”
“I don't think they can be normal oil-based makeup, or they'd block the pores.” Sarah said.
“The colours were a sort of powder, which they sprayed with something to make them stick, or melt in, or something.” May said.
“Sounds like a compatible technology, anyway.” Kate said. “If not, then Pete can paint them on, I'm sure.”
“I'm sure I'm confused.” Quentin said.
“My husband has a three-dimensional painting machine, which he paints faces on cakes with. It can put on eyelashes and moles, so I expect he should be able to get it to paint words on a mask, no problem, it depends on whether the colouring technology is toxic. But even if the machine can't do it, he's an artist. I don't think painting that would be hard for him.”
“And he's also a sculptor.” Sarah added. “The only question I have is does he have the time.”
“Are we actually all agreed this is the winning design? Does anyone have any doubts or uncertainties? May?” Sarah asked.
“No doubts apart from the artwork, but that's got to be the same issue for all of them.”
“Q.Q.?”
“No doubts that I want it to work.”
“Kara?”
“Mona Lisa and the sword don't cut it for me. I think it has to be this one or the harlequin, and that's going to be just as hard to paint. 'Read my lips' here is a much clearer message.”
“John?”
“If someone couldn't read, one of the others might be more powerful, but if we ever meet someone who can't read, we can explain it to them.”
“Kate?”
“This one.”
“Rhianna?”
“It's wonderful.”
“Sarah?” John prompted.
“I'm very very impressed by this one. Yesterday she had several designs, but this wasn't among them. She said she planned to do some reaction testing, and she sends the following. 'I tried various symbols and patterns, but many of them looked OK face on, but not so good with a side view. I got fifteen people to react to the question 'On a scale of one to ten, how uncomfortable would you feel about lying to someone wearing a mask like this?' I included a pure white mask as well. White got an average of three, with some people saying things like 'I've no idea who they are' or 'the other person is hiding, I can hide things too.' The other designs scored an average of five, this mask scored and average of eight and a half, but looking at the individual's scores, I believe that one respondent was using the scale backwards, in which case the average is nine and a half.'”
“Susan?” John asked.
“Yes.”
“Who's Susan?”
“The person we met over the New-Year who said that doing the branding work for an entity with a royal charter would be the crowning point of her career, but that she wanted there to be a real competition.”
“So she had more time to work on it than most?” Kate asked.
“Not really. She was on holiday until the day after I sent out the invitations. And I seriously doubt she spent much thinking-time on it while she was there. Or over the weekend, from what I hear.”
“Oh, she went back up?” May asked.
“Yes, helping out again.”
Kate was looking puzzled. “She's involved in your ski resort?”
“Involved with the ski instructor, more like.” May corrected.
“Their long standing friendship has just taken a new direction.” John said, “They seemed very happy to spend a lot of time together.”
“Well. Sarah you'll pass on the happy news, and I'll ask Pete about it, shall I?”
“Yes, please.”
“How are we going to sculpt the face?” May asked.
“I'll ask Susan for ideas. If she doesn't have any, then maybe one of Pete's molds?”
Kate winced. “I don't think the food-hygiene people would be very happy about that.”
“Oh. No. Probably not.”
----------------------------------------
“Hello, Susan. We ended up with four entries, but our panel of seven judges reached a unanimous decision. The stunning design which someone christened 'read my lips' won.”
“My design?” Susan asked hesitantly.
“Your design. It's wonderful, congratulations. The double-edged 'let no lie pass' on the lips is pure genius.”
“Double edged?” Susan was confused.
“No lies to pass our lips, no lies to pass unchallenged.”
“Oh! I hadn't thought of the first one. I was thinking of your lips not letting lies pass unchallenged.”
“Well, it's excellent. We have a few technical questions though.”
“Now I'm in trouble. About painting the letters on?”
“Sort of. I don't know if you've seen anything about the face cakes that politicians have been happily slicing up?”
“Yes.”
“Well, we know the artist, and he's got a printing robot that puts on the colours, but... do you know if the colouring agents for the fake-face are food-safe? We don't want to ruin his business.”
“Urm... no idea, sorry. I do know they don't offer a white colourant. I asked and they said they've tried lots of things, but it just doesn't work well. So assuming you go with the blue background, you're going to need to leave the white uncoloured, and it's going to be very fiddly, I'm really sorry.”
“So that's why you showed the blue on white as well?”
“Yes. I think the white on blue looks so much better, but...”
“Don't worry, Susan. Your design is wonderful, we'll just have to see what's possible in the time. For the shape of the face, did you have a specific mould we could use in mind? We don't want you to think that we've broken your design by not using the right one.”
“Oh, no, it's just a generic unisex pantomime mask as far as I remember. But I've no objections to you shaping the face however you like. It was the colours and text that I was more concerned about. Which reminds me, I need to specify them for you. I'll send you them.”
“Thanks, Susan. Now, next question, or rather statement... I hope you're free on Thursday.”
“I guess I could be. I'd need to cancel a meeting but it's nothing very high priority. Why?”
“Because I'm under strict instructions to pass on the address of the designer of the winning entry to the palace. I can't say for certain, but I suspect you're going to get a royal summons to the chartering.”
“I really hope you're joking.”
“Why?”
“Because that's too much, I don't deserve it, and I don't have anything to wear, and...”
“Calm down, take some deep breaths, and think to yourself. 'I've just produced the winning design for the uniform of the first organisation to get a royal charter in a long time.'”
“That's supposed to calm me down?” Susan asked.
“No, it's supposed to prepare you to talk to people you love and bask in some well earned glory.”
“I still can't believe I won.”
“Believe it. Oh, by the way. If we say we really like 'let no lie pass' as the motto of the organisation, especially with the lips, what does that that do to the second half of the design competition?”
“Urm.” Susan was silent for a few moments. “If you tell everyone in the competition that you certainly want those elements, it probably makes me cry.”
“Why?” Sarah asked, take aback.
“It means I'm automatically a co-designer for the second phase.
Which would be wonderful, but it also means I shouldn't really compete, doesn't it? And I've already got some ideas...”
“Oh, OK. Well, maybe someone can come up with something better. We'll just tell the press when we're discussing the choice of the design, and the others can draw their own conclusions, can't they?”
“But that puts the others at a disadvantage, doesn't it?”
“Not really. They've got until the end of the month, after all. I'll put out a press release to announce the winner today, if that's acceptable?”
“Very.”
“Same contacts as I used to announce the competition, I presume?”
“Yes.”
“Should it just be text, do you think?”
“Well, if you're not sure you can do the white on blue, then yes, just text. It's not unusual for certain elements to be left a bit vague at this stage. If they contact me then I can give them a pencil sketch. I still can't believe this, by the way.”
“Congratulations, Susan.”
----------------------------------------
5.45PM, I.H.M.
Kate reported back “OK, the order is placed, and the materials are due in an hour. They said that didn't count as urgent, by the way. Pete thinks the dyes are food-safe, and although they're not what he normally uses they ought to be compatible with his robo-painter, and he's willing to try it out. He's also going to see how his robo-painter does with inverse writing. He's done dark on white before, but not white on dark, so he's really not sure how well it'll do. He says he'll do that on one of his normal test heads.”
“I hope he's adding up the bill.” Sarah said.
“Oh, stop it, Sarah! Let someone else spend money too.”
“Yes mum.” Sarah said, with a grin.
“Much better. How's the press release going?”
“We were just wondering if you'd like to check it.”
“Yes, OK.”
Sarah pulled up the statement on the screen. 'Uniform design selected for truthsayers. The announcement of a press conference following the chartering of the association of truthsayers made the selection of a uniform / disguise an urgent priority for the association, and so the decision was taken to bring forward the deadline for that aspect of the corporate identity, and separate it from other elements. The seven designers who had expressed an interest in submitting entries for the design, were informed of this decision and four elected to submit their designs. All were of high standard, but the seven-member judging panel were unanimous in their decision that the design submitted by Susan Draper, using words as opposed to more traditional iconic elements, best represented the spirit of the organisation. The design incorporated familiar phrases 'yes be yes' and 'no be no', under a banner of 'TRUTH'. The final element, by which panel members were particularly struck, was her use of the double-edged phrase 'let no lie pass' at the mouth of the mask. This indeed will be the role of the association: to ensure the honesty and integrity of its members, who will then seek to not allow a lie to pass unchallenged nor a clear truth to stand unconfirmed.'
“Hmm, looks good to me. You're not going to say that the judges are part of the association?”
“Since it gets formed by the charter, we can't be members yet.”
“Good point. OK. Send it, Sarah.”
Sarah gestured to the console, and the message went. “Done.”
“Now, May needs to stay, or at least come back, so we can cover her in goo, but should everyone else go back home and start on their homework?”
“I really want to see May covered in goo, but yeah, I've got some homework.” Kara said, sadly.
“Don't worry, we'll record a video.” John said.
“I hope you're joking.” May said.
“Purely for the sake of education.” Rhianna said.
“Hold my hand and say that without hiding.”
“Laughter can be educational.” she replied primly.
“Hmm. That's what I thought.”
“I wasn't sure how long we'd be gone.” Q.Q. said, “So I told Mum not to cook for us.”
“Kara, you're staying with May's folks, aren't you? Do you have food waiting for you?”
“I don't know. I just got the last lesson off school and came down straight here.”
“How did you get the lesson off?” May asked.
“I told them I'd got an appointment here. And it was only P.E.”
“OK. I'll call Hannah. Or even better, John, can you call Hannah? I'll enter some I.D.s into the I.D. server here.”
She indicated a small rugged looking box sitting on the table.
“That's it?” Q.Q. asked.
“That's it. Well, the actual server is about the size of your thumbnail. The rest is armour plating, anti-tamper devices, a backup power supply which'll keep it active for something like a month, and shock-proofing.”
“The intention being that you can't break it open, but if you do then it screams murder?”
“Yes. Except it doesn't 'scream murder', instead if you try to force your way in then it will blow it's memory to shreds. Literally.”
“Wow.”
“It's a standard device for any company which has I.D.s or other data to protect.”
“So, we'll keep the I.D.s on it as well as the register of members?” Q.Q. asked.
“No. It's network connected. It has to be, and it's as secure as any network-connected device can be, but we don't want to put our register on the network.”
“Oh.”
“Instead, what we're going to do is this little box will have our membership numbers and our I.D's. on it and whether we're in good standing or under investigation. And then we'll have another pile of data that matches
membership numbers to contact details, without names.”
“What about people without contact details, and people's names? Surely we need a register of names?”
“Yes. I suggest we have that on an encrypted data crystal (with backups, of course). People who don't have contact details recorded will just have a record which says 'this record is intentionally blank'. And then we're going to have an entirely separate register somewhere else, which matches names or nicknames to membership numbers. That way, for an outsider to uniquely identify one of us, they'd need to get hold of both databases, but for a secretary, there would be sufficient in the contact database.”
“That sounds good, but what about financial stuff? That's going to link us, surely?” May asked.
“Hmm, good question which needs more thought, I guess.” She placed a crystal reader next to the I.D. server and adjusted them until there was a click. Then she connected the console in the same manner.
Opening a draw, she pulled out a collection of entirely boring looking data crystals. “May, you're number one. Pick a random crystal. They've all been set up as unowned I.D.s and registered to this I.D. server. This I.D. server has been certified by the ministry of Justice as belonging to us. All we need to to is claim one, and then don't lose it.”
“Wow. Urm, this one.”
“O.K. Please put it in the reader, then iris scan and a fingerprint please. I recommend you use a different finger than you'd normally use for your I.D., in case you accidentally use the wrong chip.”
“Cunning, but doesn't it make it a bit complicated?”
“Ha! This is nothing compared to what I needed to do to get this little pile of goodies.”
“I believe you.”
“Good. You are now officially 'Truthsayer in good standing, number one.' Q.Q., you're up next.”
“O.K. What would you have done if we'd all gone home earlier?” He asked as he gave his iris scan and fingerprint.
“Been very annoyed with myself. Well done, 'Truthsayer in good standing, number two.'”
“What happens if we use these before Thursday?”
“Ah, well, I skipped a bit. The server is certified, but not authorised to do anything, including identifying you. You'll get a nasty message about using an I.D. which is valid, but unauthorised for that purpose.”
“And if we need to put someone on suspended status, it'd be similar?”
“Hmm. Possibly. I'd assumed we'd be changing their status by altering their name, but that sounds good too. Better in fact. I don't know this system well enough.”
“You're doing fine, Sarah.” Kate reassured her.
“But it does raise an issue.” John said. “How easy will it be to change someone's settings?”
“Another good question.” Sarah said, starting to fiddle. “What did Hannah say?”
“That there might be enough for Kara if she gets there quickly, but Ruben is in the house.”
“Kara could do her homework here somewhere, couldn't she?” May asked “We don't want her starving.”
“No problem.” Kate said.
“May, I think you're now 'Truthsayer in uniform, number one.'” Sarah reported.
“School uniform.”
“Never mind. Can we check?”
“OK. What, I just show it to the scanner?”
“Yes.”
“Oooh, look, there I am. I.D. of 'Truthsayer in uniform, number one.' recognised.”
“So, in answer to your question, John, very easy. Who's up next, Kara?”
“Please.”
“Can I go after?” Rhianna asked. “I've got lots of homework too.”
“Of course. Kara, you're one zero nine, and you're done. Kate, small meeting room for homework?”
“Yes. I think so.”
“Rhianna, can you do your fingerprint again? It wasn't convinced.”
“Of what?”
“I'm not sure. Maybe that you had good contact. Oh, that's better. Three zero nine can now go and do her homework. We'll arrange something for food.”
“Thank you, Sarah.”
Sarah looked at her wrist unit. “Kate, want to try doing this for yourself? It's less complicated than the institute's system.”
“Ooh, trusting me with your account? Is that allowed?”
“I'm sure it shouldn't be, but see what happens when I leave. The worst that happens is it logs me off. I hope. Hmm. Let me set up May as an administrator, just in case it decides I'm a naughty girl. OK let's go for a little walk, everyone with homework.”
The terminal bleeped, noisily, as Sarah walked to the door.
“Sarah, come back!” Kate called “I'll take them.”
“OK, little box, mummy's here.” Sarah said sitting back down in front of it.
She saw the terminal had locked. It definitely didn't want her leaving when she was logged on. Sarah approved despite the inconvenience; it was a good security policy.
“OK, John, just you and me to do, since Kate's gone,”
“And you've got to put May back.”
“No. You can do that.”
“Oh. OK.”
“What are we going do about food? Order some pizza?” Sarah suggested.
“How about something like Chinese, or Thai? We make pizza ourselves often enough, surely.”
“Mmm. Yes, tempting. I presume we're inviting Pete over?”
“Me to. I'll check.”
----------------------------------------
[Eliza, you and Albert are going to be numbers three zero eight and four zero eight. Hope that's OK.]
[I presume you don't have four hundred members.]
[No, you're three and four yesterday.]
[Odd numbering system.]
[The important thing is to make it slightly more memorable than a random number, but not have it purely sequential.]
[What's bad with a sequential number?]
[Tells people how many of us there are. I don't know how long we'll keep with this number scheme, but we could keep with it indefinitely, I suppose.]
[What, just keep counting the last two numbers as the date?]
[I was thinking we'd just keep going up and wrap around at ninety nine.]
[So all our members are going to be so many hundred?]
[All except May and Q.Q. they're one and two.]
[Who's Q.Q?]
[A young lad who likes hanging around May. I get the feeling she's getting to like him too.]
[I thought you'd banned her from dating.]
[I have. But it's hardly dating if he visits her family, is it?]
[Hmm, no, I guess not. It's still a form of getting to know each other, though.]
[I know. It's treading that fine line, and I think it's going to only get harder. His parents also want to meet her.]
[He's told them, then?]
[I presume so. I'm not sure what he's told them.]
[So are you going to have any more single digit people?]
[Maybe. I'm not sure on what criteria though. So far it's people who decided to join up last year.]
[Oh. Well, Albert and I decided we'd be happy to join when you first told us.]
[Well, you can be members three and four if you prefer. I haven't entered anything into any databases yet. Oh, I'll need some sort of aliases or nicknames for you.]
[Hmm. You can enter me as Lizard if you like. I apparently told my Dad I was one, once. I've always liked them.]
[Really?]
[Not as scary as snakes, spend ages dozing in the sun just warming up and then zip, they're gone. I'd love to be able to spend ages warming up in the sun and waiting for my food to deliver itself.]
[Too busy?]
[That too. And too aware of what the ultra-violet does to skin, if you don't have scales.]
[Know the feeling. You're sure you want to be a cold-blooded creature? And what about Albert?]
[Yes, I'm sure about the reptile. They're survivors. I'll ask him, is it urgent?]
[Not really. We need to know your choice of number before we issue you with an I.D. crystal and both before we put you down in the register. That reminds me... Registering the crystal...]
[Yes?]
[Everyone else I've just had them do it straight onto the I.D. server. I guess I'll use the same procedure banks use with you though — half-way register them and then get them to you somehow for the biometric layers. Would Thursday be a good time for me to pass them to you, or are we going to be in the eyes of the press all the time?]
[I'd expect that failing anything else, you can arrange to give them to Bella.]
[OK. I'll bring along a couple of data crystals then... assuming you want such incriminating evidence to exist, that is.]
[You'd let us be unverifiable members?]
[Do you honestly expect that you'll ever be active?]
[Well, it's happened before, but... Probably not. We've spoken about it, it was a bit of a needless risk.]
[Well, the crystals are yours when you want them, if you want them.]
[If we don't register them, then what happens? Do they stay registrable, or is there some kind of time-limit?]
[No idea, I'll have to ask someone. But, I mean, they'd be identifiable as unregistered truthsayer I.D.'s, but if the I.D. server would disavow them, I've no idea. We can try if you like.]
[But you wouldn't mind issuing them, and having them lying around in the palace?]
[Not at all. The registration doesn't proceed automatically, otherwise banks wouldn't dare send out a replacement I.D. There needs to be a confirmation that you're the person who's putting the biometrics on. I'm probably not going to automate that. So you'll need to tell me you've registered them and then I'll tell the I.D. server. If there's a timeout I'll just have to figure out how to override it.]
[Then if you're willing to do that, then let's do it that way. At least then if we ever do need the things, they're available to us, just as soon as you can get to the I.D. server.]
[Just tell me nicknames and numbers.]
[I will, don't worry.]
----------------------------------------
Pete stood back from his handiwork on May's new fake face. “Well, I think it's getting too hard to work more like this, but it's not bad. What do you think?” he asked Kate and Sarah.
“You've got rid of the bubbles?” May asked “That's what I was most worried about.” She was trying hard not to move her jaw, which made it rather hard to understand.
“Yes, all the bubbles from the moulding are gone.” Pete reassured her. They'd discovered that while starting with the 'whipped cream' on May's face had made it easy to avoid getting it in her eyes, it had turned into a bit of a disaster when they tried to putting the mould on. When they'd removed the mould, she'd looked like she had more craters on her face than the moon. Pete had come to the rescue though. Her fake-face was now a smooth white surface, entirely un-pitted.
“I think you've done wonderfully, Pete.” Kate said “And printing the words works?”
“Yes. It seems to. I'll need to test it with the specified different brand of dies, but there shouldn't be a problem.”
“So, how much longer must I wait?” May asked, once more through gritted teeth.
“Oh, only another few days.” Pete teased.
“That's not funny, and I know it's not right.”
“Fifteen minutes. I hope you protected your eyelashes.”
“Eyelashes are fine. Can you see anything of my eyes?”
“Not really.” Kate said. “I think I can see some sign of movement when you blink, but not much more than that.”
“Everyone should have one for boring lectures.” Sarah commented.
“Don't make me laugh!” May protested.
“Sorry, May. Pete, you're going to be able to print it tonight?”
“It shouldn't be a problem. Kate can bring it tomorrow morning, if that's OK?”
“Absolutely.”
----------------------------------------
[Nice uniform, May! Hopefully we'll never need one. Is it comfortable?] Eliza asked, as the king was signing the Royal Charter.
[Not too bad. It sort of feels like I've got mud or something on my face, but it's not itchy or anything like that.]
[But it's not too hot and sticky?]
[Not so far, anyway.]
[Did you have it on as you came into the palace? I meant to ask Sarah.]
[Yes. I went to Kara's house and changed there.]
[Oh, I wonder what her neighbours thought.]
[Well, she brought the rest of these clothes up for me earlier in the week, and we made sure that she left the house with me, so all they ought to know is that one of her cousins is visiting, with school bag. Wow, big surprise there, and a truthsayer was seen leaving with her.]
[Cunning.]
[We thought so. Kara then hired the transport, and brought me here.]
[She could have come in for the ceremony too.]
[It was a bit of a surprise for her, but she's in the public gallery.]
[Albert's idea?] May had been surprised to be met by Prince Albert at the security gate, but she supposed it made some kind of sense. After all, he knew her real name.
[Yes.]
[Good for him.]