172 Lonely At The Top (2/2)
The sergeant was impressed, and left it at that. The secret stash of items taken from the cube was safe. But it weighed on Kirk's conscience, and he had to clear his throat before he said:
”Like I said, it's not a perfect solution. But it's going to take a while to process two billion applicants. It's going to take a very long while once all governors start to apply limits to the number of new colonists. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. What matters is that this change - two kits per colonist, a replacement kit for everyone who has fucked up - this should go a long way to solve the existing problem, the problem we have right now.”
Brock was silent for a while. Then he said:
”It might work. But people are still going to fuck up the second time around. They're still going to die over there.”
”It will be exclusively their own fault,” Kirk said. ”They'll only have themselves to blame. And they'll know that. Anyway, they'll have a choice: take the extra implant, or surrender their colonial license and reapply for the guaranteed income. Once people have a choice, they're easier to manage. Even when it's a fake choice. And there's another small extra step we can take, too.”
”Go on.”
”Let everyone apply to become a colonist in one of the colonial administrative centers in the New World. It's like a job, really. They can send back food and industrial goods within limits set by the governor in charge. Or they could leave handling their quota to the governor, and would get a cut of the profit once the goods are sold. We don't need to hire everyone who applies, of course. We'll hire the people we select and naturally that takes time, and people understand that kind of thing because that's exactly the process they go through when looking for a job.”
”Kirk,” Brock said. ”That's brilliant. You're a lifesaver. I knew you're the man to call about the current shitstorm. Think on. You get any new ideas, I want to hear them right away. And fire Placek's ass and put someone in charge who'll do what he's told. Rinse and repeat for every governor who dared overrule your new colonist limit. Of course, that's only my advice. I cannot order you to do anything.”
Brock didn't need to say 'but I can fire your ass anytime I want to'. Kirk heard it loud and clear anyway. He said:
”I'll do exactly what we agreed on, sir.”
”Thank you. Thank you! Goodbye.”
”Goodbye,” said Kirk.
He left his study, and went to look for Adam. He needed to talk to the governor of Northern California immediately, and inform him of the latest developments.
Kirk found Adam on the magnificent back terrace of the mansion. Adam was refreshing himself with an unidentified drink while looking sadly at the defunct fountain in the center of the garden. With water costing one new dollar per cubic meter - one thousand liters - operating a fountain was expensive even for the very wealthy.
The garden was far from looking its best, too: March wasn't the best month for viewing gardens in the northern hemisphere. Kirk walked up to Adam, noting that his son did not turn his head to see who was approaching. It bode badly. Kirk said:
”Adam, I've just finished talking to Carlton Brock.”
”Yes?” asked Adam, still looking at the dead fountain.
”We'll be making some big changes.”
”Yes?”
”Carlton agreed that it's time to fire Placek's ass.”
”That's nice.”
Adam sounded like a cancer patient who had just been told by a doctor that he could maybe live another three months instead of just one. Kirk said:
”Adam, what's wrong?”
”I just feel sad and lonely, Dad. I don't know why.”
”I do,” Kirk said. ”It's lonely at the top.”