“Mr. Ambassador, it’s good to meet you,” Lars Swenson said as Moore wheeled Ivanov into the private dining room in the administrative building.
“It’s good to meet you as well, Mr. Councilor.”
“We were concerned about your health after yesterday.”
“It is already much relieved by a good night’s sleep and the passage of time, Mr. Councilor. I continue to use the wheel chair you most graciously provided so as not to tire quite so quickly.”
Ivanov turned to the other Councilors.
“Mr. Ambassador,” Olivia Monet said with a nod.
“Hello, Mr. Ambassador,” Roger Steadman said.
“And our chief of staff, Mr. Ambassador. Mr. William Monroe.”
“Hello to you, Councilors. Mr. Monroe. And allow me to introduce my shuttle pilot and traveling companion, Mr. Justin Moore.”
Nods were exchanged all around, and Moore wheeled Ivanov up to the chairless place that was left for him opposite Swenson. Everyone sat down, with Swenson in the middle of his colleagues, and Moore to the right of Ivanov, opposite Steadman.
“Mr. Ambassador,” Swenson said, “I propose we eat first, and hold business for over coffee.”
“I agree, Mr. Councilor, with the caveat that there is one piece of business we should probably conduct immediately.”
Ivanov withdrew his commission from his pocket and passed it across to Swenson. He glanced at it, then passed it to Monet. She glanced at it and handed it behind Swenson’s back to Steadman.
“Very good, Mr. Ambassador,” Swenson said. “Duly appointed then, and installed properly as Arcadia’s ambassador to Olympia.”
“Yes, Mr. Councilor. And that being done, I bring gifts from the three earliest signers of the trade agreement. Tea from Arcadia, cheese from Earthsea, and coffee from Amber.”
Ivanov set them on the table before him as he announced them – a wooden presentation box of the Chens’ Walnut tea; a gift-wrapped drum-shaped box of Earthsea cheese, and a vacuum-packed, sealed-foil package of Amber coffee. He pushed them across to Swenson, who nodded.
“Thank you, Mr. Ambassador.”
Swenson turned to the head waiter standing nearby.
“Franklin, can we work these into lunch in some way?”
“Of course, Mr. Swenson.”
The head waiter took the gifts off to the kitchen, while his staff served the soup course.
“Our maps show Arcadia to be some five thousand light-years away, Mr. Ambassador.”
“Yes, Mr. Councilor. That is correct.”
“And you covered this distance in ten weeks, Mr. Ambassador?”
“Yes, Mr. Councilor. Our means of propulsion in hyperspace travels at about three light-years per hour, which, as fast as that is, makes it a journey of some seventy days.”
“Remarkable, Mr. Ambassador. And you were weightless this entire time?”
“Yes, Mr. Councilor. Which has taken a toll on my person, in the form of a weakening of muscles relieved for so long of gravity’s burden.”
The head waiter returned with a large teapot, and served all six of them.
“Thank you, Franklin,” Swenson said.
He lifted his cup to Ivanov and sipped his tea, then looked at the cup in wonder.
“How extraordinary, Mr. Ambassador.”
“The Chen family on Arcadia grow wonderful teas, Mr. Councilor.”
Monet sipped hers as well, and seemed well pleased. Steadman sipped too, and even his perpetually irritated expression seemed to ease a bit.
“For all that, though, Mr. Councilor,” Ivanov said, “Olympia’s cognacs are superlative. Even a modest selection from the hotel menu last night would be the superior offering on any of the three worlds I have had occasion to inhabit in the past year.”
“Truly, Mr. Ambassador?”
“Oh, yes, Mr. Councilor. And a later sampling of a single-malt Scotch last night confirmed that your expertise with distilled spirits is not confined to the cognacs. Your export market awaits you.”
The wait staff exchanged empty soup bowls for entrees. It was a fish dish, served over a rice pilaf, with blanched vegetables and a lemon caper sauce.
“We move perilously close to business, Mr. Ambassador. Let me ask you instead, what is Arcadia like?”
“From what I have seen, it’s very similar to Olympia, Mr. Councilor. Our capital is, like yours, nestled against the mountains, with the sea attending, and a great plain stretching off on the other two sides. The climate is similarly welcoming. Why, Mr. Moore and I ate breakfast on the balcony this morning. Very pleasant. And very much like home, for that matter.”
“What are the people like on Arcadia, Mr. Ambassador?”
“Young, for the most part, Mr. Councilor. Honest and hard-working. Fun-loving, too. We love parades, and the beach, and street parties. From what I’ve seen of the data our probe past your planet gathered, we are not so different than Olympia in those respects.”
“And the government, Mr. Ambassador?”
“Also like you in one way, Mr. Councilor. We changed our government seventy-five years ago or so. For a different reason, though. Where you put in place an executive committee for stability, we overthrew a budding tyranny. The system we put in place is a parliamentary system, with a prime minister.”
“Mr. Milbank.”
“Rob Milbank is our current prime minister, yes. Has been for some time now, Mr. Councilor.”
The dessert course came out. Apple pie, with cheese wedges, and coffee. The cheese and coffee were the Earthsea and Amber varieties.
“Oh, this is wonderful,” Monet said after nibbling on the cheese.
Steadman took a sip of coffee, then a deeper drink. His stolid and somewhat pained expression truly softened at last.
“One thing I can appreciate is a good cup of coffee,” he said. “And this is a great cup of coffee, Mr. Ambassador.”
He saluted Ivanov with his cup, then held it out to Franklin, the head waiter, for a refill.
“Well, I think we’ve come to business at last, Mr. Ambassador. So let me ask you. What is your mission? To sign us up for your trade agreement?”
“No, Mr. Councilor, not really.”
Swenson looked surprised, and Ivanov continued.
“Oh, I certainly wouldn’t mind if you signed up for the agreement straight away. I’ll send you the text right now, so you can consider it at your leisure.
“But that’s not my purpose on this mission. I have two goals really. The first is to install QE radios on Olympia, so that you can have instantaneous communications with the other planets so equipped. Five so far, including Playa and Tahiti. You can discuss the agreement directly with Prime Minister Milbank, or Director Laurent of Earthsea, or President Dufort of Amber.”
“You brought these radios with you, Mr. Ambassador? That’s what the video said.”
“Yes, and traffic over them is free for now while we get everything set up. Eventually, Earthsea will charge for their use. That’s one of the products and services they have to trade, Mr. Councilor, like you have your distilled spirits and fusion powerplants. We brought multi-channel planetary QE radios to hook Olympia up into the network.”
“And your other purpose, Mr. Ambassador?”
“To learn where six more colony planets are, Mr. Councilor. Endor, Dorado, Tonga, Spring, Numenor, and Atlantis. The rest up through number twenty-one we know.”
“So you can hook them up into the network and offer them the trade agreement as well, Mr. Ambassador?”
“Yes, Mr. Councilor. They each have their technology concentration, and I assume they each have their other special interests as well.”
“You will reassemble the diaspora, Mr. Ambassador. Bring all the pieces back together.”
Ivanov nodded.
“I think of it a bit differently, Mr. Councilor. We are establishing, once again, the Silk Road of antiquity. Each planet remains itself, but all benefit from the specialties of the others.”
Swenson nodded.
“We are an executive council, Mr. Ambassador. We must of necessity meet privately to consider your proposals. We will be in touch.”
“Thank you, Mr. Councilor.”
Ivanov nodded to the others as well.
“Councilor Monet. Councilor Steadman.”
When they got back to the hotel, Moore helped Ivanov to his room.
“What will you do now?” Moore asked.
“Meet with Councilor Steadman.”
“You mean Councilor Swenson.”
“No,” Ivanov said. “I will meet with Steadman. An executive council can be carried with a two-to-one vote, but they will try not to do that. I need at least Steadman’s acquiescence for a binding decision. And I think I can get that.”
“Really? He looked sort of intractable to me.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
Ivanov shrugged.
“But that is the way forward.”
“Ah, Councilor Steadman. Come in, come in. Thank you for meeting with me.”
“Everyone calls me Roger,” Steadman said.
“And you must call me Sasha. Please,” Ivanov said, gesturing into the living room of his hotel suite.
“You met with Swenson and Monet already?”
“No, Roger. I wanted to meet with you.”
The doors onto the balcony were open, and Ivanov led Steadman in that direction.
“I thought we might have coffee on the balcony.”
“That would be fine.”
Ivanov’s personal cubic had been delivered from the shuttle during the day, and Ivanov had taken full advantage. He had a burr coffee grinder, a chemical flask, filters, and a heating pitcher, all set out on the table.
“Some setup, Sasha.”
“In my personal cubic, brought from Amber. I hand-ground the beans an hour ago, so they could properly bruise before brewing.”
Sasha fussed the coffee before serving them both. Steadman sipped the coffee, then sat back with a sigh.
“I thought the coffee at lunch outstanding, Sasha, but this, this is superlative.”
“Amber’s finest whole-bean coffee, medium roast, hand-ground, allowed to bruise, and brewed at precisely the right temperature. Details make a difference, Roger.”
Steadman nodded and sipped again. He closed his eyes as he savored it.
“Truly wonderful. And you’re right, Sasha. Details make a difference. Such as with this trade agreement of yours.”
Ivanov simply nodded.
“People are going to cheat,” Steadman said.
“Of course, Roger. But it won’t avail them.”
“Why not?”
“Because then other people will raise barriers to them, too. We’ll end up with a weird sort of mish-mash, of barriers of different height between different planets, all across human space.”
“And this is OK with you, Sasha?”
“Of course not. But it’s the best we can do, Roger. The world is imperfect. Human beings are imperfect. But we’ll do the best we can, and it will work out. Not as good as it could work out, perhaps. But better than being without such an agreement.”
“So we do as good as we can, and what we get is what we get, Sasha? Do I detect some Russian fatalism there?”
“Yes, Roger. I cannot escape the emotional baggage of my forebears. But it’s true, as well.”
“Huh.”
Steadman sipped his coffee, then paused with the cup below his nose as he appreciated the aroma. Finally he lowered his cup.
“This whole scheme is just a way for the rich to make more money, Sasha.”
“Of course.”
“And you’re OK with that?”
“Yes. Because in a free-market system, the only way for the rich to make more money is for the middle class to willingly trade them money for goods and services. They have to offer value, or no more money. In any other system, the rich can just take the money, without providing value.”
“You believe that, Sasha?”
“Yes, Roger, I do. As long as the consumer has a choice, he can vote with his wallet. You, rich man, don’t get my money. I would rather buy this other thing from this other rich man over here. In such a system, the rich have to compete with each other for the consumer’s money.”
“And the rich get richer.”
“The rich always get richer, Roger. Let’s make them work for it.”
Ivanov raised a conspiratorial eyebrow to Steadman.
“Hmm,” Steadman said, and sipped his coffee.
Lars Swenson was not looking forward to this morning’s meeting of the executive committee. The one item of discussion was how to proceed with the Arcadia mission and the issues it raised.
Swenson expected Roger Steadman to be a pain in the ass. But on this, he was prepared to vote him down and proceed on a two-to-one vote if he had to. Then again, Monet might not be willing to do that on something this important.
Swenson just didn’t know.
Everyone was on time for once.
“Good morning, Lars,” Monet said when she joined the call.
“Good morning, Olivia.”
“Hello, everybody,” Steadman said when he joined seconds later.
“Hello, Roger.”
Swenson took a deep breath. Well, here goes.
“All right, let’s get started,” he said. “Our topic today is the visitors from Arcadia. What do we want to do? Roger, why don’t you start?”
“Very well. I think we should do this whole thing. The radios. Tell them where the other colonies are. Sign the trade agreement. The whole shebang.”
Monet and Swenson stared at him.
“What?” Steadman asked, looking back and forth between them.
“That’s not what I expected, Roger,” Monet said.
“Oh, I have my misgivings,” Steadman said. “And I don’t think it’s all going to be a bed of roses. Or rather, it will be a bed of roses. There’ll be thorns. But we’re probably better off with it than without it. And if it turns out we’re not, we give them our regrets and pull out of it. But I’m not willing not to give it a try.”
Swenson looked to Monet.
“Agreed,” she said.
“I am also agreed,” Swenson said. “I also have my misgivings, which may not be the same as yours, Roger. But if we don’t join, we can’t possibly know. If we do, we can assess as we go along.”
Steadman nodded.
“Exactly my point,” he said.
Monet nodded.
“I’m excited about it,” she said.
“Very well, then,” Swenson said. “We’re decided.”
“Hello, Sasha. How are things on Olympia?” Rob Milbank asked.
“Good, Rob. Excellent, in fact. We have the QE radios hooked up. And they’ve given me the coordinates of the other six colony planets they know about.”
“Excellent. Great job, Sasha.”
“What’s more, they’ve signed the free-trade agreement.”
Milbank stared for a moment.
“Really? I worried about that executive council of theirs. How did you get unanimity there, or did they split?”
“Nope. Unanimous. Three to zero. I wined and dined the troublemaker. Actually, I made him a cup of coffee.”
“Well, however you did it, that’s tremendous news. And the more colonies that join, the easier it gets to sign them up.”
Ivanov nodded.
“And wait until you get a taste of their cognac, Rob.”
“That good?”
“No. Better. Much better.”