Titan

17 February 2096: Campaign speech

Zeke Berkowitz couldn’t help but admire the thoroughness of Eberly’s preparations for this speech. He’s a terrific stage manager, Berkowitz thought. He knows how to make a maximum impact.

Eberly had cajoled only a few dozen of his own staff people to serve as the live audience for his speech, but the conference room he had chosen was small enough to make the place look crowded. Since most of the habitat’s citizens would watch the speech from their homes, Eberly’s flunkies were enough to make it seem like a sizeable and enthusiastic audience.

Berkowitz had his staff remove the conference table from the room and set up rows of chairs for the audience. A small lectern stood at the front of the room; Berkowitz’s minicams were positioned in the rear.

At precisely 2100 hours, Sonya Vickers—the newly appointed acting director of the human resources department—stepped daintily to the lectern and looked out over the audience that filled the room to capacity. She was elfin slim, blonde, youthful, smiling.

“I’m glad to see so many of you here in person,” she began, “to witness this important policy statement by our chief administrator.” Lifting her eyes to look directly into Berkowitz’s central camera, she continued, “And to those of you at home, welcome.”

She hesitated a heartbeat, then said, “Now, without further ado, I would like to introduce your chief administrator, a man who has served all of us selflessly and very capably, Malcolm Eberly.”

The audience rose to their feet on cue and cheered enthusiastically.

In the living room of her apartment, Holly sat on her sofa, flanked by her sister and Jake Wanamaker. The screen on the opposite wall showed Eberly smiling brilliantly as he walked the six steps to the lectern, where he shook Vickers’s hand and thanked her for her introduction. Impulsively, it seemed, she gave him a peck on the cheek.

“That was scripted, betcha,” Holly muttered.

Eberly beamed at his audience as they applauded lustily. After a few moments he gestured for silence. He had to repeat the gesture several times before they stopped clapping and sat back in their seats.

“That was scripted, too,” Holly grumbled.

“Take notes,” said Pancho. “You can learn a few things from this guy.”

Eberly gripped the sides of the lectern and bowed his head for a moment. The audience fell absolutely silent.

“Thank you all for that magnificent welcome,” he said, his voice low, as if choked with emotion.

“This is a momentous occasion,” Eberly went on, sweeping the room with his startling blue eyes, then looking directly into the camera. His voice rose, strengthened. “You—all of you, every citizen of this habitat—has the chance to make history. Tonight we are embarking on a contest that will decide who will direct this habitat for the coming year. You citizens have the right, the power, the responsibility of electing the person you want to be your chief administrator. You will make this decision. You will vote in a free and fair election on the first day of June.” He hesitated, then added, with a modest smile, “As a politician back in my native Austria once said: ‘Don’t let anybody tell you how to vote. You go to the polls and vote for me!’”

The audience laughed. But Holly growled, “He was born in Omaha, Nebraska.”

Pancho nodded.

On the wall screen, Eberly was continuing, “Our first year under the constitution that we ourselves have written has been a very good year. We are in a stable orbit around Saturn, the farthest outpost of human civilization in the entire solar system. We have achieved self-sufficiency as far as food and our other life-support requirements are concerned. The machinery of our habitat is performing admirably, thanks to the hard work and great care of our technicians and engineers. Our scientists have landed a probe on Titan, and although they have had some difficulties with it, I’m sure that in the coming year they will successfully regain contact with it and explore that mysterious world thoroughly.”

Alone in her own apartment, Nadia Wunderly watched with growing apprehension. He’s going to tell them about the rings, she said to herself. He’s going to ruin everything.

“But in this coming year,” Eberly went on, “we must begin to take larger steps, steps that will assure our financial stability and economic well-being. Within easy reach of us, close enough almost to touch from here, in fact, lie the rings of Saturn—a treasure trove of the most precious commodity in the solar system: water. The time has come for us to begin to mine the rings, to sell their water ice to other human settlements throughout the solar system, to make ourselves wealthy by becoming the human race’s primary supplier of water and life everywhere!”

The audience leaped to its feet and roared its approval. Wunderly jumped to her feet, too, and screamed, “Never!” to her empty apartment.

In her apartment, Holly sunk her chin into her chest and glowered at the wall screen. “The only way to stop him is to get Nadia to the rings before election day.”

Pancho shook her head. “She’ll never be ready in time. We’d just be killing her.”

Holly turned to face her. “Then you’ll have to do it, Panch.”

“Me?”

Wanamaker started to say, “Now wait a minute—”

“You,” Holly said to her sister. “You’ve got to go into the rings, Pancho.”