"King David's Spaceship" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pournelle Jerry)CHAPTER SEVEN THE BURDEN OF EMPIRELieutenant Alphonse Pavlovnicek Jefferson was in love. It had happened very suddenly, but he had no doubts about it; he had all the signs he’d been led to expect from romantic novels. His previous affairs seemed laughable or disgusting in recollection; he had no desire at all to go tavern-crawling with his classmates; he wanted only to get back to Elaine. It had to be love. He’d met her on the street when he’d lost his way and asked for directions. Of course he’d been glad for an opportunity to speak to a local girl; getting acquainted on Prince Samual’s World wasn’t as easy as it was on more civilized worlds. Since he was more lost than he’d thought, she had to draw a map, and it seemed natural to offer to buy her a coffee at a sidewalk restaurant that seemed so conveniently located that it made Jefferson believe the fates approved of his meeting Elaine. She said later she’d accepted because she had never talked with an Imperial before. Her parents didn’t encourage that. Hours went by. He couldn’t remember anything significant they’d said. It was just talk, at the coffee house and then walking in the park and along the waterfront, a pleasant stroll on a pleasant afternoon, with nothing important said, but there it was: he wanted nothing more than to see her again, and she’d agreed. Of course he would have to call for her at her home, and meet her father, and ask his permission to see her. He’d been warned that local customs were very strict, and Captain Greenaugh had made it clear that any officer causing problems would be handed his head. Jeff wasn’t exactly looking forward to the interview with Elaine’s father, but surely all would be well. Fate couldn’t play him such a trick as to let him find Elaine and then be forbidden to see her. Her father was a Haven civil servant, and the Empire was allied with Haven. He couldn’t openly dislike Imperial officers, and he might even welcome the opportunity to get to know one. Jeff told himself that several times. For the moment, though, he had another appointment. High Commissioner Sir Alexei Dmitrivitch Ackoff was holding his weekly seminar on colonial government, and it was strongly suggested that all junior officers attend. Presumably there was a difference between a strong suggestion and an order; if Elaine hadn’t already been late getting home for dinner, this might have been the day Lieutenant Jefferson found out. However, she had insisted on going home, and even in his euphoric mood Jeff knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to test Ackoff’s patience. He was very nearly late. The others had already gone into Ackoff’s spartan conference room. Jeff hurried inside and as he did the opposite door leading into the Commissioner’s office opened and the others stood respectfully. Sir Alexei nodded and waved them to their seats around the big conference table as he took his place at its head. He was not a tall man, nor was he large; from his looks no one would have guessed that he was the most powerful man on Prince Samual’s World, the only man there who could give orders to the Navy and make them stick. He did have an air of importance, of speaking in a tone that indicated he expected to be obeyed, but even that wasn’t permanent; he was, after all, a diplomat, skilled in persuasion. This was his first assignment as top authority on a planet, but he’d been deputy commissioner twice before, and was said to be highly competent. Jeff’s father knew Ackoff slightly, and in his last letter to Jeff had mentioned the Commissioner as an excellent example of the best — and worst — of the Imperial Civil Service. “Give him a policy, and he’ll enforce it. Even have sense enough to grant exceptions. But you have to give him a policy. He’s not likely to come up with one on his own.” The dry voice went on to suggest that Jeff erase that portion of the letter, lest Sir Alexei find it. “Your brother will inherit the family title, my lad,” his father’s image had said with a wink. “And you’ll need friends like Sir Alexei if you intend to found your own branch of the family. You might even think about staying on Prince Samual’s World. Not a bad place from what I hear, and they’ll want colonists. Shouldn’t be surprised if you managed a barony out of it. So it’s worth keeping Sir Alexei happy. Besides, he’s not a bad sort if you deal with him on his own terms.” “Gentlemen,” Ackoff began. “I find myself falling further behind in necessary work, so we will have to cut this short today.” Midshipman Landry was seated across the table from Jeff. Landry looked relieved. Jeff hoped that his own face wasn’t quite as obvious, but it probably was, because Ackoff looked directly at him. “You are amused, Mr. Jefferson?” “No, sir.” “You shouldn’t be. As of tomorrow you will be assisting the survey team. So will most of the rest of you. And you needn’t groan, gentlemen. The work is important.” I suppose it is, Jeff thought. But … “Sir?” he asked. “Yes?” “I — do you know where I will be assigned?” “Near Haven for the moment,” Ackoff said. “At the University.” His lips curled slightly, perhaps in a smile, perhaps something else. “We must fully understand the capabilities of the industrial base here. Get a total picture of their energy budget. Assess their ability to maintain complex technologies. Without that information we can’t know what to license for import.” Midshipman Landry raised his hand. “Yes?” Ackoff said. “Trader Soliman says he already knows what he wants to import, and if he’s wrong the market place will show him up soon enough.” “Yes. He would say that,” Ackoff said. “I don’t suppose he gave you the benefit of his thoughts on what he would import?” “No, sir.” “You may be certain that Mr. Soliman’s ideas will be considerably different from mine,” Ackoff said. “Luxury and convenience items, no doubt. And imbecile acts like this expedition to Makassar. It’s quite natural that Mr. Soliman wants profits for Imperial Autonetics, and it doesn’t take genius to imagine ways to accomplish that. Our task is to bring this planet smoothly into the Empire, and that may be a bit more difficult. Consider our situation, how very few we are, how expensive it will be to bring The officers around the table looked at each other significantly. This was Ackoff’s favorite lecture, and once started it was unlikely that he’d change the subject. More importantly, he wasn’t likely to ask many questions. You could safely relax and daydream when Ackoff took that tone and spoke of the burdens of Imperial office … “For example,” Ackoff said, “any fool knows that energy systems are the key to industrialization. Make energy cheap and plentiful, and people will figure ways to use it. But what energy systems? Satellites? This planet hasn’t the industrial base for that, and we haven’t the personnel to build either the orbital or the ground components. We’re unlikely to get enough skilled people. Scratch power satellites for a generation or more. “Small fusion plants? Who will operate them? Who will maintain them? How many engineers do we bring in, and who will train others here? And how is the power to be distributed on a world where metals are dear and copper so scarce it’s used as jewelry? We’ll have to use organic conductors. That’s a very sophisticated technology, far too complex for a world this primitive, but I suppose we’ll have to do it even so. “And once we begin, when we’ve made electricity cheap and plentiful — how do we control industrial developments? No matter what we do, we’re going to change the class structure of this planet. Power relationships will shift and flow in unpredictable ways. Mister Jefferson. What is our primary mission?” “Sir?” Jeff looked up with a start and tried to recall the question. “To keep the peace.” “Precisely. Which means that when this planet does develop an industrial base, it “Wealth,” Landry said. “Precisely,” Ackoff agreed. “Wealth. Opportunity. The chance to found an aristocratic family. Power indeed. But whenever you bring in an alien governing class you will inevitably breed resentment among the population. Breed enough and you can’t govern. You lose control. Whether we like it or not, Prince Samual’s World will within a few generations have the capability of building modern weapons. When that time comes, the planet must be loyalist. The alternative is almost unthinkable. Remember Istvan and Kutuzov’s choice…” Jeff shuddered. Admiral Kutuzov had bombed an entire planet into the stone age. The alternative was the revolt of a whole sector; the alternative would have been another Secession War, Imperial planets destroyed, all of the horrors of the war years. Kutuzov had made the right choice, but it was one no sane officer wanted to face. And, he thought, it could happen here, too. To me. Or, the other side of the coin, if I decide to become a colonist. Perhaps not to me. But to my children. Mine and Elaine’s - The thought startled him. Was he really thinking of marriage? He barely knew her. But he didn’t want to be away from her, not for an hour, and - It wasn’t unthinkable. She came of a good family. Imperial policy encouraged colonists to marry locals, and send down roots into the world they chose to live on. “Hard choices, gentlemen,” Ackoff was saying. “And the decisions we make will change the history of the world. For the moment the local government cooperates with us. Even welcomes our help. We have encouraged them to believe that once they have established a planetary government, the local dynasty will remain in control. You ladies and gentlemen will naturally continue that deception as long as possible.” “What happens when they find out we’ve been lying to them?” a consular officer asked. Her tone made it obvious that she did not approve. “It is not precisely a lie, Miss Neville,” Ackoff said. “More a diplomatic truth -” “Whatever we call it, they’ll find us out, and what then?” she asked. “ ‘Find us out,’ ” Ackoff repeated. “You young people can afford phrases like that. I can’t. What will they find out? That no matter what our intentions, the experts we bring in will be more important than even the most influential locals? That the Traders and technicians and diplomatic personnel and civil servants will have the knowledge and skills to rise high during the inevitable turmoil of change to a modern society — and their traditional leaders will not? That is the real truth, far more influential than any legalities we may impose. Try as we will — and we do try — there will be no way to avoid a change of ruling elites here. For obvious reasons we mustsee that the new ruling class is loyalist. Sometimes that requires shoring up traditional leaders long after they have lost the ability to govern. Sometimes it requires replacing then. Sometimes—” “Why can’t we just leave them alone?” Sirica Neville asked. Ackoff shrugged. “Would that be kindness?” he asked. “Suppose we do as you suggest. Leave them alone, let them develop as they see fit. Quite aside from the fact that the inevitable revolution here could as easily cast up monsters as saints for their leaders, what are we to do if they move away from the Empire, make alliance with outies, become a threat to this sector?” Kutuzov’s choice again, Jeff thought. There’s got to be a better way than that … “So I leave you to contemplate our burden,” Ackoff said. “We must not fail.” He glanced at his pocket computer. “And now, as it is getting late, I’ll let you go. Please stand for the pledge of allegiance …” They all turned to face the portrait of Leonidas IX, Emperor of Humanity. |
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