Not that a democracy is the best form of government. This place is more like a cattle market than a place of political discourse,
Xenophon considered with great disdain.
Most of the Alliance worlds had adopted various forms of democratic government, but Attica was unique. This was the only world where every single citizen could, and was expected to, play a part. They held public office and voted on everything from tax and spending to foreign affairs and deployment of the armed forces. Unlike most worlds, it was possible to work for a year as a magistrate or official in some capacity, based purely by lot, not merit. It was a system loved by most, but not Xenophon.
A silence spread through the great open building as the old man raised his arms. It was the signal for all those present to take their seats. It took a few seconds. Especially, as many of those present were a good deal older than Xenophon.
“Citizens, the debate before the members of the Boule is over. This has been a long and difficult topic to discuss, and we have sought information, intelligence and expertise at every stage. We cannot deny the public interest in this struggle and have therefore decided it is time for you to vote on the proposed call-up and military action. As citizens of Attica and the Alliance, your votes must now be considered. As is tradition, we have a fifteen-minute recess to give you the opportunity to place your ballots and to double-check the official records and statements. Before you vote, I would like to reiterate the importance of this vote. A decision for war will mean sending your own sons and daughters, even yourselves, into harm’s way. Do not enter into such a decision lightly.”
The first sensible thing I have heard all day,
thought Xenophon.
The man sat down, and no sooner did he touch the stonework, the entire place erupted into action. A great chorus of shouting, chattering and general noise echoed through the Ecclesia. The acoustics did nothing but help the spread of sound to every corner of the ancient structure. Xenophon and Glaucon moved away to the side where it was a little quieter. The Assembly building itself was circular in shape and equipped with beautifully detailed columns around the perimeter. The stonework was lavishly carved with great events from the Terrans’ past. Stories, such as the first colonies founded by humanity, took up most of the space. In the centre of the building was a much thicker, larger column that had been erected almost a century before. The two men moved past the column as they made their way to one of the many alcoves that dotted the stone structure. Vertical display panels were placed at discrete points so that citizens could vote in private. Glaucon stopped and gazed at the lighter stonework of the large column. He was of a more bulky shape than Xenophon, a mixture of genetics and a lot of time in the gymnasium. Where Xenophon was the intelligent, calculating and agile young man, Glaucon was the rich liberal, yet ham-fisted and easy to anger.
“Still looks too new, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I think interest in the victory will fade well before the stonework does.”
Glaucon shook his head in disbelief. It was yet another field of history or politics for them to argue about.
“Really? You don’t think the Terran victory against the two invasions by the Median Empire is the seminal moment in our shared histories?”
“Of course it is, but probably not for the reasons you think it is.”
Glaucon sighed, preparing himself for another of his friend’s lectures.
“You see, it is also one of the events that shows us why the Laconian and Alliance colonies have more in common than you might think. Don’t forget, it was the manpower of the Laconian automaton slaves that gave us the edge in heavy infantry. Only their state, one based around war, was able to decisively delay the Empire’s advance and then finish them off at the Plataea. The Alliance could never have stood without help.”
“What? You forget our breaking of the siege? It was the single most important space battle in the history of humanity. It was our ships that smashed imperial warships even though we were outnumbered ten to one. The Laconians are animals. They create nothing, are poorly educated...”
“And yet they could crush us in any equal engagement?” added a defiant Xenophon.
Glaucon shook his head and sighed.
“Watch your tongue in this place. You know what the mood is here, and that kind of talk could get you ostracised.”
Xenophon nodded in agreement.
“In that you are correct. You just have to love the mob.”
They both looked at the numbers around them. Some looked as though they were taking it all very seriously, but a large number of the younger citizens stood out. They wore symbols and logos with a variety of causes, of which one of the most common concerned spreading democracy to those still ruled by dictators.
“Look at them, go on, look. This is the problem with mob rule. They believe their causes are important even though those they will affect may feel otherwise. You’ll remember the last argument we had with them. We were accused of all kinds of crimes unless we agreed with their liberal agenda. These are the people that will determine our fate!”
He lifted his hands and turned on the spot as if pointing out the great horde of people in the Assembly. He did a complete revolution before turning back to Glaucon.
“It is too easy to let them decide to fight or not to fight. Their decisions are based upon short-term thinking and emotion. Logic, history and reason mean nothing to them, just their own selfish agenda. These decisions should be made by those with wisdom and experience that will take all of us into account.”
“I take it you’re voting against the Armada, then?” asked Glaucon, sounding irritated. Xenophon had a look that told him precisely what he thought about it.
“This entire vote is nonsense. We’ve been at war for nearly three decades now, and apart from our allies doing most of the work, what have we achieved? The League is too powerful to allow any successful assault on their worlds, and the Alliance Fleet is too large to allow them to attack us. It’s a stalemate, and that’s why we let our allies fight the war for us, by proxy. If we escalate the war, we change it to one where one side has to win and the other has to lose.”
Glaucon nodded but not quite appreciating the point Xenophon was making against a decision to go to war.
“Exactly, it’s a cowards way of fighting. A yes vote will mobilise all eligible citizens to the Armada. If we take the fight to the Laconians, we can end this war once and for all. A democratic Laconia would be to the benefit of all Terrans.”
“If you think so. We could, of course, lose the fleet and the war in one move. This is nothing more than mob rule dictating state policy. The vote should never have been given to those unable to understand its importance.”
Glaucon shook his head.
“Sometimes I just don’t understand you. You are from a family with long service to the Alliance. Your father fought the Laconians, did he not?”
“And died fighting them, for what? They speak the same language, share most of the same customs. It’s not like we even want their barren homeworld. It is a dull and lifeless place that breeds only the hard and strong. He was forced to fight against friends, even family. Don’t forget that borders and boundaries are just lines on maps. You have family in their territory as well, don’t forget.”
“I wonder why you don’t live there sometimes. You seem to have a greater love for their customs and laws than we have in the Alliance,” muttered Glaucon.
“Well, there are benefits to living there. But don’t forget that as citizens we’d be required to serve in the military. Somehow, I don’t see you as a Laconian heavy infantryman! Come on, we know what will happen here, so let’s vote and get on with something a little more interesting.”
Xenophon moved to the nearest unoccupied display unit. At first glance, it could have been nothing more than a shimmer in front of the stone wall, but it was in fact a fully detailed visual display. He moved his hands in front of his body to operate the touchless interface. It worked by using a mixture of movement and gesture recognition.
“Good day, Xenophon, please enter your citizen ID code,” said the machine in a gentle, female voice.
With a few deft movements, he entered the data and was presented with three options to choose from. The first was to vote for the calling up of the citizen Armada, the second to vote against the proposal, and the third and final option was the abstain choice. He gazed at the three for a few seconds as he ran the idea over in his head.
If we call up the Armada, then all of us, probably me, and most of my friends, will be sent off to fight the Laconians. To what end? The idiots! I’ll never vote for our citizens, my friends or my family to go to war, just so some liberal students can get what they want,
he thought angrily.
With a flick of his wrist, he selected the no vote and confirmed his decision. He turned back his waiting friend.
“Okay, your turn, Glaucon. Make sure you select the correct option, want me to do it for you?”
The young man stepped past Xenophon, throwing him a grin as he took up his position in front of the unit. Xenophon looked at the hundreds of citizens, and most were either using the machines or talking with their comrades as they waited. Most would have been proud of what they saw taking place, but Xenophon had nothing but distrust in his mind when it concerned his fellow citizens. They were quick to judge and would praise a man just as quickly as they would condemn him.
“Okay, done. What say you come with me and join my family for a celebratory dinner party?
My brother Polemarchus is back, and I’m sure he would like to meet you. Cephalus and his friends will be there if you’re interested. You’ll remember the last time we were all together, when you got into that argument about who was most wise.”
“Yes, I seem to recall you all sided against the Admiral,” answered a slightly bitter Xenophon.
“True. Still, you can’t win them all.”
“Perhaps. Though if you recall, the messengers arrived a week later showing the Admiral was in fact innocent. If the citizen vote hadn’t been so hasty, the Admiral could have heard the apology rather than being sent into exile.”
Glaucon looked to Xenophon and sighed.
“Look, if this vote goes the way you think, then it might be the last time we will all get together, so come on, you know you want to. It sounds good, you coming?”
Xenophon considered the offer for a moment, but shook his head.
“Sorry, I need to get my books ready for next week. I’ve got some big tests coming up as you know.”
“Kratez will be there,” said Glaucon, as if the mere mention of his name would sway him. He had obviously been keeping the man’s name quiet to hold it as a trump card in case Xenophon refused the offer. Xenophon looked surprised.
“Really? I’ve not seen him in months. I thought he was teaching at the Academy.”
“He was, but he has two weeks off for vacation and is spending two days of it with my family. Now, are you going home to look at books, or are you coming to my home for an argument with the smartest man in the Alliance?”
Xenophon looked back at the Ecclesia and then to Glaucon. His friend had a pleading look that he simply couldn’t avoid any longer.
“Okay, I need to drop my stuff off. I will be around in an hour.”
“Excellent, don’t be too late!”
Glaucon moved off along the path, and Xenophon stood silently, hoping, even praying that the vote would be a no. Most citizens didn’t seem that concerned as to which way it would go, but something deep inside him told him the vote would have greater repercussions than anybody could expect. He could only hope.
* * *
Xenophon climbed out of the taxicab and handed the driver his identity card. With a light blue flash it confirmed the payment. With a polite goodbye the man closed the door and drove off, leaving him on the pavement. He was stood outside his friend’s house, a lavish home made of local stone and four storeys high. It had been in the hands of Glaucon’s family for six generations and was one of the tallest private homes in the city. Two statues of the ancient human goddess Athene flanked the grand entrance. They were symbols of the state and often present on public buildings. It didn’t surprise Xenophon to see them as Glaucon’s family had a long history of public service. He stepped past them and towards the double doors that led inside. As he approached, a young woman stumbled out. Her clothing was skimpy with her arms, legs and midriff all exposed. Xenophon caught her as she teetered on one foot and sent them both crashing against the statue.
“Are you okay?” he asked with genuine concern.