VISUAL EFFECTS / CH. 26: EMBASSY
MAGAZINE ARTICLE, FOR EARTH AND MARS PUBLICATION, WEDSOL 3RD AND 4TH MARCH, 2272
I'm very glad that the board and shareholders look like they're going to be held to account by the U.N. for suppressing the true version of the contract.
Seeing the vehement protests of the board that there was no way they could know there were any seconders (etc) alive, I've just been reminded of a piece I wrote ages ago, actually before I got to Mars. It never seemed to be the right time to publish it, partly because it was full of wild speculation which wouldn't have been very helpful. So, I'll make some things clear: it was pretty obvious to me before I even left Earth that there were seconders, and thirders alive. You might even remember the piece that got me thinking. It was to do with a referendum on Mars about what to do in a case of a brutal rape. It went to appeal and then to a first referendum, and then to a final referendum. I'm sure I've talked about this in the past. The final referendum had a 99% turnout. Everyone wanted their say, and the decision was that it had been attempted murder and guy should go to Mt Olympus, rather than having any chance to live. The second referendum is based on claim size, and the owners of 99% of claimed land voted. Since there are hardly any individual claims more than 150 hectares, that means that the firsters and seconders must have put their claims into aliases. Alias-holders still get to vote, of course, but you do need to get your alias certificate reconfirmed before you do. The aliases office must have been busy that week!
So, 99% of claims voted, but simple maths says just the firsters claims amount to 5% of the land. So at absolute maximum, 20% of the firsters' claims didn't get counted as voting. You can't will your claim to a spouse, let alone a cousin or a friend, you can only pass it on to descendants by blood. Sacredy Jim has no children, so his birth claim — that which he received at birth — will become null and void on his death. The special status of the firster claims, however, means that if his father passes away without heirs, that claim will be distributed amongst the descendants of the other firsters.
Ninety nine percent of claims voted, so there had to be seconders alive, re-confirming their aliases, and using the claims they'd inherited from their parents. It's simple maths, and the referendum was, relative to anything else about Mars at the time, well reported on Earth. My conclusion is that just like pretty much everyone on Mars, the board knew there were seconders alive. Their failure to come forward and be counted (then assassinated), was of course convenient for the supporters of the status quo, and presumably over 50% of the shareholders agreed to it at least tacitly.
The emergency shareholders meeting that has been called for Satursol 21st March in accordance with the rules of the corporation will, it seems, be held in the assembly hall of the Mars Council, in Dome 2, Mars. 57% of the shareholders have already agreed to this, so it's decided. I find that statistic interesting since that means that at least one Earth government aren't happy with how MarsCorp has been run. They couldn't complain to the press, of course, under the terms of their share ownership. I really don't know what the U.N. were thinking when they agreed to that rule, but its going to be a very interesting meeting; the Martian shareholders have no such restriction on them, so they can tell me their side of any arguments at the meeting. The country representatives can say whatever they like during the meeting (and it can be reported by the Martians), but if their governments let out one squeak about the governance of the Corporation to the press then they forfeit their shares. As far as I understand it, they're not even allowed to say 'no we didn't say that', but I'm not a lawyer. (And Martian shareholders, don't abuse this one bit; you don't want to be ignored as a bunch of liars.)
Was it, perhaps, the thought of this basically untenable situation that led the United Nations to say that full independence will occur only fifteen years after this reality? Really, I can't imagine most governments totally avoiding any leak to the press at all for two or three weeks, let alone fifteen years, when other participants can speak freely.
Other interesting features of the shareholder meeting, of course, will be the reactions of the shareholders should they examine the past accounts of the organisation (as is their right), and of course, the minutes of previous shareholder meetings. I understand that nothing in the corporation's charter prevents the United Nations criminal court from demanding to see any of those either, and wonder if the Martian shareholders will be requesting that line of action by the end of the meeting.
What I'm really impatient to know is how many of the governmental shareholders are planning to turn up (presumably by proxy). MarsCorp will of course be represented by their local leadership. I hope they're going to be well briefed.
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MARS OFFICE OF INTERNATIONAL NEWS, FRISOL 6TH MARCH, 2272, 9AM
The middle-aged man requested entry to the dome politely and said “Mrs Findhorn-Bunting, I'm here in order to sort-of answer a question your editor put to her Majesty.”
“You'd better came in,” Alice said.
“My credentials, as a crown officer,” he offered her a data crystal.
“Thank you,” Alice said, her wrist unit confirmed it looked OK, but of course slow-travelling light was going to take a while to reach Earth and come back to say whether it was still valid.
“Would you prefer me to return once it's verified?” the man offered.
“For the moment, let's assume you're authentic,” Alice said.
“Thank you, Maam. The answer to your editor's question, about if we could in anyway provide assistance, has I'm afraid been 'not really', as I'm sure you've realised, but my colleague and I have tried to keep our ears open in case we learned anything about a threat to you.”
Alice nodded, “Thank-you. It always seemed a bit of a long shot.”
“But getting an ambassador to Mars in time for the shareholder meeting is also going to be rather tricky.”
“I'm not particularly surprised.”
He swallowed, “the fact is, Maam, their Majesties ask that you consider the position.”
“Me? Ambassador?”
“Yes, Maam.”
“I'm a journalist.”
“I know, maam, but you are a trustworthy and honourable person, known to be able to keep secrets, and also known as a friend of Mars.”
“It would present problems unless I withdraw from journalism, though, wouldn't it?”
“I believe so, Maam. This isn't a royal command, it's a request.”
“Then I thank their majesties, but I think I'm declining. Would you like me to make an alternative suggestion?”
“By all means.”
“Eloise Maugh, currently secretary to the Mars Council.”
“And you suggest her, because?”
“I know and trust her, and she can also keep secrets: she left MarsCorp's employ on being told something unpleasant about how it was run, it but has not revealed exactly what that was.”
“But she told you that much?”
“No, her brother did, as evidence that he had a personal interest in me not destroying the Martian economy.”
“Ah, yes. I presume that would be in connection with your interesting insurance policy?”
“Her majesty did suggest she'd like to read it. I presume it wasn't too hard to break into with the right tool.”
“I wouldn't know, Maam.”
“Would you have a need to?”
“No, maam,” he agreed with a smile, “I'll forward your suggestion, but if you would, please, don't dismiss the idea immediately.”
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MESSAGE TO ALICE F-B, WED. 6TH MARCH, 2272
Dear Alice,
Just a quick note, I understand you're thinking of declining their majesty's request that you function as an ambassador. What I'd like you to consider is that you've pretty much been one for the past two years, aiding the mutual understandings of the two planets.
I'm assured by the palace that they'd have no objection for you to continue to write pieces of the nature you've been doing, and I believe you've told me that you two starting a family wouldn't have much effect on the office there, as the staff you've hired would be able to put in some extra hours, in other words I guess you've got time to do it too.
Ed Wentworth
Editor in Chief, International News
p.s. Whit Holder says if you don't take up the post, then he's been struggling (failing) for the last couple of months to think of another challenge for you for when this current excitement is all over and you tell him you're bored. The only ideas he's had are Earth-based.
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FINDHORN-BUNTING COMPLEX, 7PM, FRISOL, 6TH MARCH.
“He's got a point, Alice,” Simon said, when she showed him the message.
“I know.”
“So?”
“I still don't think I want to do it. Ambassadors are supposed to be respectable, reliable people.”
“You sound like Cecilia,” Simon said.
“Hey, she'd be great at the job,” Alice said, “maybe. urm..”
“No she wouldn't, Alice. You would be.”
“Everyone's ganging up against me! I'm sure I'm not the right sort of person for the job.”
“Why don't you talk to your friend at I.H.M. Get a dispassionate assessment. And pray about it too,” Simon suggested.
“I'm going to. I guess I should seek peace, too.”
“Not...” Simon said, and caught her as she collapsed “...while you're standing up,” he finished, adding a mental [Silly, adorable, woman.] to her, but not sure she could hear.
[You like me doing it.] She replied, and was then properly gone.
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Alice let go of her fears in the waters of the peace, but still wasn't sure.
She felt another presence there, human. [Hello, have we met? I'm Karen.]
[I'm Alice. No, we haven't met. Wow you're hot!]
[I know. Are you new to the gift?]
[No, but I don't have it in full. Our Lord gives and Our Lord takes away. Blessed be His name. I've been hidden away for the last decade or more.]
[I don't understand.]
[I'm proof that you shouldn't misuse the gift. Want the whole story?]
[If you don't mind. I need to stay around here until I'm cool.]
[And I'd better not just give you a memory ball, had I?]
[Probably not.] Karen agreed.
Alice told her story, and then explained why she was here.
[My Dad's an ambassador. He says it's a fun job. Always changing.]
[Really? Not just boring meeting after boring meeting?]
[There's always one crisis or another, behind the scenes, ask Eliza! It's not all pretty dresses.]
[Eliza?]
[My cousin. Very useful if you could talk to her, given the speed of boring old photons. If you can't, I probably shouldn't say more. Thank you, Alice for telling me your story, I accept the warning.]
[Stay close to God, Karen.]
[You too, Alice. Do call Eliza. Oh, and John and Sarah lost loved-ones in the Clear Sky attack, they survived. You might find it helpful to talk to them.]
[Lots or people survive losing loved-ones.] Alice said, misunderstanding.
[No, I mean they were there, John Williams and Sarah Smith, except they're married to each other now.]
[Oh! And they both have the power?] Alice had heard of Sarah Williams creating a big stir in all sorts of areas.
[The gift.] Karen corrected [I know you might have doubts, but we all found it very useful for helping with making sure the city was really evacuated. I think we saved a lot of lives.]
[I'm not as strict on myself as I used to be. I'm happy to save lives, check for assassins. I shocked myself and decided it was right to look for a missing teenager from church the other day.]
[Was everything OK?]
[Depends on what you mean by OK. Strong words and tears of repentance followed, so I guess so.]
[Ah.]
[So, you think I should call your cousin?]
[Yes. Both of them — Sarah's my third cousin.]
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
Alice had dismissed it as coincidence that a young woman with an ambassador for a father father should be talking about it being useful for her to talk to her cousin Eliza. But Sarah Williams, nee Smith, heir to the Gemsmith corporation, had an ambassador's daughter for a cousin and a cousin Eliza too. Famous ones. It would be entirely possible for Eliza Underwood to have the power.
[Hold on... are you saying....]
[You are trustworthy, but I am bound by official secrets laws, not to mention privacy laws. So I hope you can call her and enjoy chatting to her, Alice.]
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FINDHORN-BUNTING COMPLEX. 7.30PM, FRISOL, 6TH MARCH
[Eliza? I'm Alice.]
[Hello Alice. I don't think I know you.]
[No. I've just been thinking to your cousin Karen and she told me to get in touch. Sorry if I'm interrupting anything, your highness.]
[Oh, stop that, I refuse to be called highness by a sister in gifting.]
[{shock}you've got the gift?]
[God's got a sense of humour. You've not had the gift for long, I presume?]
[I was given the gift when I was young. I don't ever remember not being able to listen to thoughts at a distance. Quick overview: ] Alice gave a brief summary of her life. [So, now I'm coming to the end of what I think God intended as my task, freeing a million captives, not in at all the way I expected he would, and your parents-in-law seem to think I'd make a good ambassador to Mars, and what's worse my husband and my editor-in-chief do too.]
[Hmm, well. Sorry about that.]
[You had a hand in it too?]
[I just thought aloud at breakfast the other day that you'd done a massive amount of helping people understand each other. But I've got a question for you, Alice.]
[Yes?]
[Bob McDaniel, urm, do you know him?]
[I know his work, but I've never met him.]
[He's an elder at the church I used to be at, and said that he's not really been allowed to talk about his faith. I know you've mentioned yours quite a few times...]
[Yes, but he's more of a dispassionate news person, I'm more a roving investigator.]
[Except that you've not been doing much roving recently.]
[You don't think Mars is far enough?]
[I'm more thinking that in some ways by making your faith clear, you've closed yourself off from quite a few types of journalism, haven't you? You've really become an explainer of cultures.]
[Well, yes, I guess so.]
[And without any disrespect for Bob, I think you've probably done far more for the kingdom. You said God had given you a great work, prepared in advance. Don't you think that sounds more about more kingdom-building work than just freeing captives?]
[What do you think I ought to be doing?]
[Personally, (I'll check of course with their majesties), I think I'd be very happy to hear you addressing crowds talking about what you knew before you left here, what wrongs you saw happening, how you thought it might destroy the economy, and realised the way to solve the problem was by convincing Earth that all our prejudices were wrong. And how looking back on it God led you to meet all the right people and ask all the right questions at the right time, blessed be his name.]
[Amen.]
[And while their majesties have necessarily been limited in what they could do, they've just asked me to let you know they have been praying for your work to ensure that promises are honoured. And alongside that prayer support they've been trying to ensure the widest possible distribution of your reports, encouraging foreign news agencies to take up rights, and so on.]
[Really?]
[Oh yes.]
[Assuming you're planning to accept the job... you are, aren't you? Their majesties consider it likely to only be a part time position, by the way, and would be very happy for you to continue in whatever of your other roles you think would work.]
[No one's told me that.]
[Well, no, I've only just asked them.]
[You can talk and think at the same time?]
[Well, think and write notes on scraps of paper.]
[I get the feeling you use your gift more than me.]
[Very useful in meetings, yes. Oh, by the way, me having the gift is a class epsilon state secret, and Albert and I having the power is a class delta.]
[I needed to know that?]
[Absolutely. Can't have potential ambassadors accidentally blurting out state secrets, can we? That's my job.]
[Can I tell Simon?]
[Urm... I don't suppose he has the power does he?]
[Yes]
[Great. Simon? Hello!]
Alice listened to Simon's thoughts too, and heard his surprise.
[Hi love, thanks for the blanket. I'm back on-line too, someone I met in the peace suggested I try to call someone famous.]
[I'm Eliza, as in Prince Albert's new wife, technically me doing this is a class epsilon state secret, but that just means Alice can't tell you, oh and Albert having the power's a delta. Please don't tell anyone, it might get awkward. I'm just trying to persuade Alice to sign up as our ambassador. Feel free to add your thoughts to the conversation.]
[{stunned}]
[Oh, and please don't call me highness. I'm just Eliza, or if you prefer you can call me Mystery — I'm known by all the thought-hearers in the civil service as Mystery Voice, with vague unspecified reasons to spend lots of time in the palace.]
[That does sound like a safer name to use, Maam.] Simon said.
[Then use it please, sir.]
[And if Alice needed to confirm something with you then she could?]
[Certainly.]
[Not certain,] Alice said, [Since Mama died the only gifted person I've spoken to was Kate, and that was a one-off. God's been hiding me while I healed, including in my seared conscience.]
[Alice,] Simon thought [you look healed to me.]
[I do? Praise God!]
[What's this?] Eliza asked.
[Simon has an unusual gift, Eliza. We might be able, by God's mercy, to hear thoughts and learn too much about people, but Simon sometimes gets an overlay of people and things as though heaven's visual effects department have added colours representing health, pain, sickness, trustworthiness and the like.]
[You can see untrustworthy things too?]
[Yes,] Simon thought.
[It's been very handy when looking for bugs or sabotaged life support equipment,] Alice said. [Fortunately from the perspective of my writing that song, he didn't think to use it on our stuff, just our friend's.]
[Wow. God is good.] A thought occurred to Eliza, [Does Kate know about it? She'll want to document you.]
[No. And Simon's not going to Restoration in the foreseeable future.]
[I don't mind being documented, love.]
[What about employed by the institute?] Eliza asked, [It's written into their founding documents that they'd need to employ you, too.]
[Well, if they want to set up a Mars branch, I'm sure the University would be happy. But, Mystery, you were talking about Alice working as ambassador?]
[Yes, thank you, Simon.]
[Wouldn't that she need to be a civil servant for that?]
[Good question, I'll ask.]
[And what would things like not leaving Mars, and pregnancy do to it?]
[Also now on the list.]
[Technically, I think we're counted as citizens of Mars now,] Simon pointed out.
[But you've not renounced your Earthling citizenship either. Obviously, you keeping your Earth job suggests you're even more linked than most, Alice. But yes, life is complicated, and I'll ask. Joint citizenship might be something you need to get the council to agree about.]
[And are you thinking that it'd be a permanent posting, or were you planning to send out someone else?] Alice asked.
[Mostly up to you.]
[If you're sending someone else, then you've got to decide in the next week or so.] Simon thought [Flights are starting very soon, as in the next few days, I think. Then you've got about a seven week window or you're waiting a long time.]
[Eeek, that soon! There's no way someone could come later?]
[Sorry, subject to divine intervention, after then you're on very expensive flight plans. Getting here a few months before closest approach isn't much of a problem, but getting here after Earth has zoomed past is hard.]
[Let's not make anyone drop everything that fast,] Alice said. [Please tell their makesties that even if I hate it, then I'll try and stick it out until next cycle.]
[Do embassies need staff and buildings?] Simon asked.
[Certainly. Would that be best in one of the big domes, or somewhere stand-alone?]
[If you're talking about a little office, then you can probably go for renting in a big dome, although there might be a risk of being overheard.] Alice said, [If you're thinking of the embassy becoming our residence, then please can our residence become the embassy instead? My furniture from home has just arrived and I really don't want to re-arrange that, let alone move our crops.]
[OK, on the list. Let's say we do manage to send you some support staff, would you have space for some offices?]
[There's plenty of space for another dome or three on our claim.]
[Great. Assuming their majesties decide to send you some staff, rather than hire locally, are we talking about people willing to farm?]
[I think so. If not, they're never going to be classed as more than tourists, plus bought food will eat a big hole in someone's budget. But assuming you don't want them to do it the MarsCorp way, someone should pre-order a dome for them, I've heard that they're a lot of people who want to do it the 'hydroponics in their own dome' way.]
[What would people eat, then?]
[Oh, well, there's quite a number of people thinking that they could spare some food for help with the harvest, but otherwise most jits who have a complex will be working for gloop. Compared to the ticket price, a complex doesn't cost much, and it means you get far more time for paid work or farming.]
[And that's the way you'd expect embassy staff to adapt? Have their own dome for farming and work for gloop?]
[Assuming we're only talking about two or three, I'm sure we could find someone to offer food in exchange for work, couldn't we Simon?]
[Probably. Or maybe MarsCorp would be willing to sell gloop to embassies, and then we could add something to liven it up a bit.]
[Not just Cecilia's thunderbolt, I hope.] Alice said.
[What's that?]
[Cecilia Durrel, (nee Thornthwaite) — she'd probably want to say a big thankyou to their majesties for sending her out on probation, by the way, she's a lovely Christian now. Anyway, she makes a Tabasco-style sauce which is way off the end of the normal hotness scale. It's now called thunderbolt, apparently because someone said he wished he'd get hit by one before his head caught fire.]
[That hot, eh?]
[Yes.]
[So, I've heard about root vegetables, tomatoes and now peppers. I presume leafy veg and greens are growing too?]
[Yes. And plenty of small bush type fruit, and some people have apples, pears and citrus fruits. But there's no arable, so no grains, not even rice — it takes too much space, and until some seeds arrived few weeks ago there was no local sugar production, either.]
[So... someone who needs gluten free diet would be a good candidate?]
[Very much so. As long as they're not a sugar addict and don't hate root vegetables. Potatoes, turnips, swedes, carrots, parsnips, beetroot, those are the sort of things we eat lots of for carbohydrates. And when a Martian says they're going shopping, they mean they're going to the market area to swap what they've got lots of or have preserved for something else.]
[And meat?]
[MarsCorp produce meat-substitute, not quite the real thing, but quite acceptable. Rabbit is also on the menu if you've got the produce or Earthling currency to buy it. Locals would barter vegetables for rabbit.]
[And vegetables are expensive?] Eliza asked.
[It's supply and demand, Mystery.] Simon replied [For all that it's now a tradeable, the Martian kilo is still considered to be only slightly more than a kilo of fertiliser, someone would have to have seriously too many vegetables to swap a kilo of vegetables for what you get for free after you've finished digesting them, for all that it's a valuable resource. Four or five Martian transport kilos for a kilo is much more likely.]
[Gulp.]
[Exactly. The thing is, there's no way you can feed Mars even with freeze-dried imports, so it's local produce or nothing.]
[But the gloop...]
[Isn't enough.] Simon thought [It only just about manages to feed the people in the big domes, and produce compostable left-overs of course, but let's not mention that.]
[Thanks,] Eliza thought [I think I'm starting to understand more. You're never going to take enough freeze-dried food to feed you for a cycle, are you?]
[I suppose you could.] Simon replied [You'd need something like a hundred and fifty grams a day, if you're hungry, so a hundred days is fifteen kilos, and a cycle is just under eight hundred days... so about a hundred and twenty kilos. There goes most of your cargo allowance, but you could do it, just.]
[Thanks... one question... Alice, would you mind if I told their majesties you've got the gift? They know I have it.]
[Not at all.]
[Thanks.]
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THE PALACE.
“We have an ambassador to Mars.” Eliza reported.
“Alice Findhorn-Bunting's agreed?” the queen asked
“Yes. She says that she'll stick with it at least until we can send someone at the next cycle. I didn't realise, but if we're going to send anyone then they're leaving somewhere between now and six weeks time at the absolute latest. She didn't think it was fair to expect anyone to drop everything for such a total change of lifestyle in such a short time. It will mean farming, for everyone we send there, basically there's no sensible alternative. Expect local produce to set you back four or five Martian transport kilos per kilogram, otherwise.”
“We'd do better to send freeze-dried, then.”
“Yes. Alice's husband tells me that's going to work out at something like a hundred and twenty kilos for one cycle, in other words most of someone's cargo. But we could certainly send people with enough freeze dried food that they don't need to eat gloop, though Alice was suggesting they could mix local produce with gloop. Oh, does the name Cecilia Thornthwaite mean anything? Sent to Mars on probation.”
“Was she the one with the dangerous boyfriend?” the Queen asked.
“No idea, but anyway, she's now a lovely Christian, is married, and Alice says she's sure she'd send thanks for sending her out as a probationer.”
“Oh, that's good news,” the King said, “I do sometimes wonder if it's worth it, but it obviously worked in her case.”
“It sounds like quite a wide-ranging conversation,” the Queen said, “I take it you got contacted by the gifted person on Mars?”
“Yes,” Eliza said, with a little smile.
“And Alice and her husband know him or her?”
“Mummy, Eliza's smiling her 'I know a secret' smile,” Albert noticed, “Let me guess, Alice's husband is the one with the gift?”
“No, Alice herself. She really shouldn't have been able to end up so far from God, but it's a warning: having the gift is no guarantee of a lifetime close to God. It is possible to abuse the gift, and God takes action against those who do.”
“We've just nominated someone with the gift to be ambassador?” the queen asked.
“Handy, eh?” Eliza said. “In moments of real crisis, instant and secure communication is possible. But she's learned from her past: she's not going to use it just because it'll save some time.”
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NEWS REPORT FOR MARS AND EARTH PUBLICATION. WEDSOL, 11TH MARCH, 2272.
Someone has a sense of humour. I've just been formally designated as my birth-country's ambassador to Mars. Normally being an ambassador would make me a civil servant, to be sent hither and thither at their Majesties' pleasure. They've decided that's not really appropriate in this case. Normally being an ambassador would mean that I get to live in an embassy. Since no one's worked out a way of moving a field yet, and we're not planning to abandon our crops and proven topsoil thank you very much, the Mars Council has agreed that our claim, and those of other people who get named as ambassadors, can be counted as embassies. So, tourists, spacemen and Martians from home, you have someone who you can talk to if you really need to. I can't promise to help; I expect that talking to people at the Mars Council is going to be more helpful in most circumstances. But, if you need me, then I'm not moving home. Bear in mind that just because I'm ambassador for the next cycle, that doesn't mean I'm staying ambassador, and if I'm not ambassador, then my claim won't be the embassy any more. It looks like embassies are going to be moving around any time an ambassador changes. Confusing, eh?
So, I do get to watch how well MarsCorp respond to embarrassing questions on Satursol 21st, which is going to be interesting. But unfortunately only interesting for me. Although I'm only going to be 'part time' ambassador, because I now represent their Majesties I am not going to be able to tell you about any matters of interest I happen to hear at the MarsCorp shareholders meeting, unless every shareholder agrees. I mustn't talk to anyone in the office here about what happens, either. Or discuss matters of concern with my other part-time role. I can't even talk to myself? How could they do this to me? I wonder if the majority of shareholders might agree to strike out the whole 'you can't talk to the press' bit. My sanity would certainly appreciate it! If you've been reading my articles and listening to my reports you'll know that I've always seen openness and transparency as key factors in reducing opportunities for corruption and malpractice, so if the matter does come to vote then although I won't be able to report on it unless the motion is carried, I'm sure you can guess what sort of things I'll have said.
But maybe there are benefits for certain things to remain hidden. After all, we instinctively recognise that there are some conversations that should stay private, like between a doctor and a patient or husband and wife. I think there could be some conversations like that during the shareholder's meeting.
While not all the shareholders are in fact legally adults, I'm sure everyone at the meeting will be able to at least pretend to not be jits.
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MAGAZINE ARTICLE FOR MARS AND EARTH PUBLICATION, FRISOL 13TH MARCH
By now, I hope you know that the firsters and their direct descendants have 51% of the MarsCorp vote between them. But how many votes does each person have? Frank Gandhi is an easy case, since by 2208 every firster who died had at least one child who inherited, and by then there were thirty-eight firsters and seconder children who'd inherited. Thus, Frank has a thirty-eighth of the 51%, or 1.34% of the votes. Amazingly, given the accident and assassination rates amongst firsters and seconders, it seems none of those lines have actually died out.
The rule stated in their document simply states: “51% of votes shall be shared in perpetuity between the first wave colonists and their direct descendants. The votes of those who die with issue shall be shared equally among their surviving issue. The votes of those dying without surviving issue shall be reapportioned as though the deceased person never held votes.”
It sounds simple enough, but it does get complicated. It means that to work out if someone has a vote you need to know exactly who is descended from whom, which is fair enough, but also who on the family tree is still alive, and where each deceased person's votes went. This gets messier than you might think because apparently a number of seconders and thirders went and fell in love, so there are allegedly some thirders who stand to inherit votes from four firsters. If they have inherited depends on how many of their forebears survive. The Council's big books will need to be opened and family trees drawn, probably with the help of relatives. I don't know if any cross-indexing was ever done. Let's hope so. If there was a complete and accurate computerised record of the sort that MarsCorp wanted to instigate, it wouldn't be complicated, but of course it's always easy to calculate votes when there are no survivors.