StarDestroyer.Net BBS

Simon_Jester wrote:So... who's the scapegoat Councilman? I like to think I wouldn't get maneuvered into that...

Consider that, from what we know of our Sharp Toothed Councilmen, the only way he could have convinced the council, ESPECIALLY Mike, that Packer's motives were hostile would have probably involved a lot of lying. A liar can, while he's on a roll, get people to do a lot of shit they otherwise wouldn't do. And you seem to be one of the one's who was convinced. So really, it could be anyone, and that's what's so frightening about such a situation.

Formless wrote:

Simon_Jester wrote:So... who's the scapegoat Councilman? I like to think I wouldn't get maneuvered into that...

Consider that, from what we know of our Sharp Toothed Councilmen, the only way he could have convinced the council, ESPECIALLY Mike, that Packer's motives were hostile would have probably involved a lot of lying. A liar can, while he's on a roll, get people to do a lot of shit they otherwise wouldn't do. And you seem to be one of the one's who was convinced. So really, it could be anyone, and that's what's so frightening about such a situation.

It would be dangerous to assume that the vote was unanimous or close to it. If it were, Packer would've ended his day at the end of a noose. If they were feeling merciful, a trusted Mess member or two from the Watch could've been assigned to Packer to ensure he either serves whatever time he has on Muskeget or Martha's Vineyard or dies trying (though such measures may, in fact, not be necessary as I will explain below.)

People get sent to Muskeget in the story because it's tiny. There's nothing there but sand, marshes, a species of vole endemic to that island, and gray seals. It's also inaccessible to most boats due to all the shoals and sandbars that surround it. Someone attempting to escape on a raft would likely end up sucked out to sea by rip currents, disoriented by whirlpools, or swamped in swells. In fact, there are specialized craft in Nantucket Harbor that can get to it (and you can bet they'll all become property of the Watch.)

That's sort of what I think. If the vote were near-unanimous, Sharkey would probably have been able to get enough support to have him executed on a smaller vote. The fact that he couldn't suggests a relatively close vote in favor of exiling him, with a hefty minority voting against. A substantial subset of those probably still think he's right; I doubt all thirteen of the Chartist votes from the vote on the charter have been converted against a charter yet.

That "what don't we get?" remark can be interpreted three major ways:
1) The possibility that the Councilman honestly doesn't get it*. I kind of doubt this, since the scene of debate we saw before the Charter vote suggests that most of Packer's points have already been made for him by the Chartist minority- I myself seem to have made one of the big ones, which is that people are going to flee the island rather than put up with this kind of bullshit.

2) Whoever asked the question is a Chartist trying to undermine the exile verdict, which was clearly made before they even decided to arrest Packer in the first place. Prodding Packer to give an impassioned defense of how stupid it is to try to run the island like a dictatorship and keep people from leaving is just about the last option left. It's also the sort of dramatic persuasion thing that doesn't work very well in real life, which, to be blunt, probably increases the odds that I'd try it. I do not have stellar political instincts.

But if I'm still trying to undermine the exile verdict and still support the Charter, then I probably didn't volunteer for the trick that would make the exile work without touching off more riots than it prevents.

3) Whoever asked the question is taking the opposite tack, trying to goad Packer into saying or doing something suicidally dumb. This is also plausible, but it makes the most sense coming from one of the anti-Chartists who wants Packer dead, not just missing-presumed-dead. And who wants to manufacture evidence that Packer was hostile to them all along. It does not make much sense from a (former?) Chartist who's been convinced that Packer is dangerous because he's got the machinists staging nonviolent demonstrations in favor of the Charter.
_________

What makes me think that it could be me who "volunteered" as the scapegoat is, well, the quotation marks around "volunteer." The probability that this is effectively a purge of an undesired council member, one who was otherwise faced with an even worse outcome, such as Packer being executed and himself being forced off the Council anyway. Which is a position I can imagine myself being in, especially if Jimmy the Shark has managed to drown a majority of the Council in bullshit.

It also seems to me that the Old Man is effectively taking over the Council, and that he's making decisions that are either bad or very precisely tuned gambits. If Packer had refused to cooperate, then carrying out his threat would have meant losing most of their machining ability one way or the other... which strikes me as kind of suicidal. Either he's certain that Packer will fold when his friends are held hostage, and willing to risk shooting half the brains out of the island's manufacturing capability on that basis... or he's just willing to risk shooting half the brains out of the island's manufacturing capability. The double-take he makes at the end of that scene suggests the latter, too. Not good.

*It seems fairly obvious to real-me that trying to set up the Council as an oligarchy ruling by force won't work in the long run, too; I'd say that Packer is right... and looking at what's happening by Day 310, events seem to be vindicating the claim that:

"There is the theoretical risk that you are correct," Simon replied. "As a practical matter, we need to begin the transition to democracy if we're going to have any hope of making it to the next winter."
"And how is letting this charter get passed going to help us make it to the next winter?"
"Giving people more of a say in what we do will reduce the risk that they'll desert Nantucket the moment spring arrives," Simon replied. There were several thoughtful nods."

Really with his charter stunt, Packer screwed up big time. He decided to take on the apparent power structure without the backing of the one that really runs things behind the scenes - The Den Mothers.

Also - I could see myself trying to get the industrial efforts wound-down quickly, so we get a 'soft landing' (ie Iron age level technology as the ending point) when we run out of things like welding supplies, metal pipe, ect. A trigger for this might be the death of an older individual from health complications.

As a final note, Jason's burning of a gasifier diagram would set me against him 100%, and it would take some convincing that Packer didn't have anything to do with it. Plus I'm the type of guy that makes an extra copy of most documents, and would have hidden a second set of all of the blueprints I would have made, and there is next to no way he would have found those. Although making copies of the copies would take a lot of time.

TimothyC wrote:Really with his charter stunt, Packer screwed up big time. He decided to take on the apparent power structure without the backing of the one that really runs things behind the scenes - The Den Mothers.

Also - I could see myself trying to get the industrial efforts wound-down quickly, so we get a 'soft landing' (ie Iron age level technology as the ending point) when we run out of things like welding supplies, metal pipe, ect. A trigger for this might be the death of an older individual from health complications.

I'd be strongly in favor of the "soft landing" program, though I think I'd be holding out hope for stopping the fall somewhere in the early Steam Age. There are too many advantages to keeping at least limited machine tool capability for me to accept giving that up lightly or quickly.

Assuming I'm not the guy who gets booted off to Muskeget and (quite probably) beaten to death by prisoners who go "Ooh lookee here, a Council member!"

My only concern with the story, at the least from Packer's point of view is that the society that got dumped down there doesn't feel like SD.net at all.

The people are are in control doesn't seems like anyone that the people down here, and feels more like a generic dumb leadership that are actively trying to screw up the hero's life. We have many strong viewpoints, and many people who are very capable of forming logical conclusions and providing reasonable solutions to a particular problem, and yet we see none of that from Packer's point of view.

Most of the prominent members on SD.net seems like they have lost all their influence once a government is set up.

ray245 wrote:My only concern with the story, at the least from Packer's point of view is that the society that got dumped down there doesn't feel like SD.net at all.

The people are are in control doesn't seems like anyone that the people down here, and feels more like a generic dumb leadership that are actively trying to screw up the hero's life. We have many strong viewpoints, and many people who are very capable of forming logical conclusions and providing reasonable solutions to a particular problem, and yet we see none of that from Packer's point of view.

Most of the prominent members on SD.net seems like they have lost all their influence once a government is set up.

Bear in mind that there's not much relation between social influence in an Internet forum and practical influence when you're stranded on an island. About the only people whose authority is going to transfer well are the engineers and the people with military experience. Yes, that includes a fair chunk of the core membership, but a lot of the other core members are probably not going to be very useful. Having been on this forum since 2002 or whatever would not be a guarantee of a leadership role in the community in this environment. People might like and respect you, but that doesn't mean they'll trust you with their lives.

To make matters worse, there's the danger of a technocratic/authoritarian streak emerging. That's very consistent with the board's intellectual climate, but "I'm smart and you're stupid, so I'll make the rules while you shut the fuck up" does not make a good basis for government by itself. It works fine for running a server, but not so fine for running a town of 3000 people. A lot of people will question the idea that you're smarter than they are, especially when you're trying to tell them what to do over matters of life and death.

So with every decision being second-guessed by people who think their opinion is just as good as the decision-makers' is, power devolves to the people most able to enforce it (the gunmen of the Watch) and the people who are most effective at convincing others that they're worth listening to in a crisis (some of whom are psychopathic politico-types like The Shark).

Despite this, you've still got plenty of rational people who are thinking straight, but things may fall apart anyway simply because they aren't organized. People who don't immediately jump on the bandwagon and become part of the new leadership are liable to get locked out: look at what's happening to Packer. What nearly killed him (may kill him yet) was as much political tone-deafness as anything else. As Timothy said, he took on the obvious power structure without having a big enough support base to counter his enemies. There may have been several other people like him who had the right ideas, were right, and still managed to fuck up the execution to the point where they wound up being marginalized as the power structure shook itself out.

TimothyC wrote:Really with his charter stunt, Packer screwed up big time. He decided to take on the apparent power structure without the backing of the one that really runs things behind the scenes - The Den Mothers.

Ha, understatement of the year. Really, Packer's mistake was in assuming that Nantucket could escape from crisis mode so early. I've no doubt that, if Packer had waited until the second winter to float his proposal, that it would be accepted without problems. Hell, the Council would probably have beaten him to the punch, but hindsight's 20/20. Things like coalition building never entered his head as necessary. He just figured that the Council would agree, Bob's your uncle, Fanny's your Aunt, and that'd be that.

Also, it's more fun when characters fuck up.

Simon_Jester wrote:I'd be strongly in favor of the "soft landing" program, though I think I'd be holding out hope for stopping the fall somewhere in the early Steam Age. There are too many advantages to keeping at least limited machine tool capability for me to accept giving that up lightly or quickly.

Assuming I'm not the guy who gets booted off to Muskeget and (quite probably) beaten to death by prisoners who go "Ooh lookee here, a Council member!"

Despite the potential for some deliciously pitch-black humor there, I'd planned on the scapegoat actually being one of the people who's most threatened by Packer--that is to say, someone who has been swayed by the Shark. What his actual tenure on Muskeget will entail is probably similar to the cushy sentences handed down to rich white men the United States, in that he'd go there, be fed and protected from other prisoners by the Watch, and be off in a month. While he wouldn't be on the Council any more, you can bet your bippy that he'll still be able to do whatever it is the Council does, just in an unofficial capacity.

As for the Old Man, I view him as not taking control of the Council, but rather being the only one willing to do the dirty job of manipulating Packer into accepting death by exile. He's made the alternative so unappealing that Packer practically leaps at the chance to be marooned and left to die in short order (helped, of course, by Packer's psychosis--this accounts for the Council's collective double take. He expects that Packer will take the deal; he doesn't expect Packer to look so damn chipper about it).

Also, FWIW, I think the 'soft landing' method is, realistically, the only way to go. It's simply a matter of degrees, and what we choose to apply our modern machinery towards constructing. For example, do we use our machinery to quickly create an agricultural breadbasket(on the mainland, of course) that is capable of operating in a sustainable manner without said machinery? Do we push for primitive industrial operations, like water-powered mills and forges, allowing agriculture to develop more slowly, but still in a sustainable manner? Do we spread around our modern machines to give everything a small start? Time will tell.

Alferd Packer wrote:Ha, understatement of the year. Really, Packer's mistake was in assuming that Nantucket could escape from crisis mode so early. I've no doubt that, if Packer had waited until the second winter to float his proposal, that it would be accepted without problems. Hell, the Council would probably have beaten him to the punch, but hindsight's 20/20. Things like coalition building never entered his head as necessary. He just figured that the Council would agree, Bob's your uncle, Fanny's your Aunt, and that'd be that.

Hmm. I wonder. Because the direction things were portrayed as going was already a little shaky, what with the execution of the smuggler. (smugglers?) Things might have gone authoritarian and messy anyway, as I'm reading it. The underlying problem that made the Council vote against the charter proposal was still there, and Packer had a point when he asked "if not now, when?"

Despite the potential for some deliciously pitch-black humor there, I'd planned on the scapegoat actually being one of the people who's most threatened by Packer--that is to say, someone who has been swayed by the Shark. What his actual tenure on Muskeget will entail is probably similar to the cushy sentences handed down to rich white men the United States, in that he'd go there, be fed and protected from other prisoners by the Watch, and be off in a month. While he wouldn't be on the Council any more, you can bet your bippy that he'll still be able to do whatever it is the Council does, just in an unofficial capacity.

That's what I expected, though I hadn't quite thought it through to the end that way.

Chartists on the Council might decide that Packer was a dangerous radical, or they might not, but I found it hard to believe that one of them would voluntarily risk giving up a Council seat in favor of being sent to a desert island to add extra bracing to a plan like this. So I figured it was either a one-seat purge (in which case the Councilman was being abandoned), or what you describe (in which case the volunteer Councilman isn't being abandoned).

As for the Old Man, I view him as not taking control of the Council, but rather being the only one willing to do the dirty job of manipulating Packer into accepting death by exile. He's made the alternative so unappealing that Packer practically leaps at the chance to be marooned and left to die in short order (helped, of course, by Packer's psychosis--this accounts for the Council's collective double take. He expects that Packer will take the deal; he doesn't expect Packer to look so damn chipper about it).

Ah. I see. OK, that makes a lot of sense, and it may say a lot about me that I didn't consider that interpretation.

Simon_Jester wrote:Hmm. I wonder. Because the direction things were portrayed as going was already a little shaky, what with the execution of the smuggler. (smugglers?) Things might have gone authoritarian and messy anyway, as I'm reading it. The underlying problem that made the Council vote against the charter proposal was still there, and Packer had a point when he asked "if not now, when?"

It could very well have, but I fully endorse the notion that season has a huge impact on a person's mood, and spring wears on into summer, the collective spirit of the island is going to improve. Your average resident is going to go from shivering under his blankets near the fire to tending the vegetable garden in his backyard, or playing in a pickup game on the basketball courts during his downtime. The length of daylight goes from 9 hours at a minimum to over 15 hours at a maximum. The ocean moderates temperatures, extending summer past where you'd expect it to end for this latitude. In short, everyone goes from being cold, hungry, miserable, and above all, bored, to warm, happy, entertained and reasonably well-fed.

This will, no doubt, make people less...well, grumpy. It's hard to plot a revolution when you're having fun, or rather, it's easier to forget about the looming dictatorship when you're not being made miserable by the weather. But maybe the Council wouldn't propose the charter themselves, but they may very well be more amenable to it than they were coming out of the abject misery that was the Long Winter.

And then, apparently, things start going to crap again in September... I hope they got/get the harvest in. Otherwise things really will fall apart.

ray245 wrote:My only concern with the story, at the least from Packer's point of view is that the society that got dumped down there doesn't feel like SD.net at all.

The people are are in control doesn't seems like anyone that the people down here, and feels more like a generic dumb leadership that are actively trying to screw up the hero's life. We have many strong viewpoints, and many people who are very capable of forming logical conclusions and providing reasonable solutions to a particular problem, and yet we see none of that from Packer's point of view.

Most of the prominent members on SD.net seems like they have lost all their influence once a government is set up.

Actually, having read a lot of RARs like this one ("SDN gets sent to X to do Y"), this is a lot more like SDN than you think. Most of them involve the population devolving into a military power structure with the Mess and Engineers on top, and the general assumption by the people on top often being that the people below them are generally dumber, more lazy, more selfish, and more spontaneous/shortsighted than they are. This is usually argued on the basis of assumptions about the age structure of this forum (the majority of us being college kids and younger). If you think that's condescending of them, well, take it up with the kind of person who likes to respond to this kind of RAR. Also keep in mind that most such RARs give us a concrete goal, which a military power structure is well suited to achieving (especially since many of them, like SDN in Middle Earth, involve us going to war with someone, obviously). This one doesn't have any stated goal, but they went for that power structure anyway. That is, I think, a big part of the problem. It is NOT a power structure made to keep a stable society together for long periods of time, its made for discipline and getting shit done now.

ray245 wrote:My only concern with the story, at the least from Packer's point of view is that the society that got dumped down there doesn't feel like SD.net at all.

The people are are in control doesn't seems like anyone that the people down here, and feels more like a generic dumb leadership that are actively trying to screw up the hero's life. We have many strong viewpoints, and many people who are very capable of forming logical conclusions and providing reasonable solutions to a particular problem, and yet we see none of that from Packer's point of view.

It is one thing to say that from behind your computer. It's another thing entirely to say that if one of those ridiculous RAR scenarios actually happens, only instead of Q coming out to tell us that we must do X and Y to go home and we've got A and B superpowers; we just appear on the island of Nantucket and that's that.

Ask who is actually likely to end up in charge during a situation like that. The answers, in order, will be A) The Mess. B) Ruthless people with excellent political instincts. C) People in the right place at the right time who happened to have better ideas than the guys in the area with them. Many of B and C will be older science and engineering types by the sole virtue of the type of person this board is likely to attract.

Once those slots are filled up and the authoritarian/technocratic nature of the government has time to gel, those people will be hard to remove from their positions of power and the attitude of "I'm smarter than you are, so STFU and let me do my job you crack-smoking donkey fucker" will likely imbue them with a natural suspicion of anyone who wasn't there at the get-go. Especially when they start jumping up and down in the boat and attempting things that would shift power away from the people who know what they're doing to the "plebes."

Look at how this board's population deals with trolls, and the dogpiles that form on people who say something that is seen to be blatantly stupid or ignorant.

I also can't help but be reminded of the conflicts of personality that happened before Mike shut down the HoC and Senate. There are a lot of things that we may have come to a consensus on, but clearly we are not all on the same page on every issue. Drop this community in a random place in time-space with no goals and no hope for returning to our homes, and the seeds of conflict are there.

Greetings.

Long time lurker deciding to register and chime in. Some might have seen me on some other forum, or perhaps not.

Regardless...

We have to remember the conditions people are on that island. There are chronic shortages of most things. Specially women as noted often. And only group who do not experience them are the council members and women.
If shortage issues are done away, there are in my view high odds that discontent will increase radically. All members of board are products of our own rather liberal times with strong desire for democracy.
Genie is out of bottle and sticking it back in is going to be impossible in my view, and putting down rebellious groups through violence would be bad since you lose workers who may have skills which are hard to replace.

Solution of course would be implementing Packers ideas, but I think he is bit too optimistic on how likely such transition would be spontaneously.

We all like to think ourselves more or less persons of strong moral values who would accept switch to democratic system, but those who would end up in the council would know well how good their life is compared to people down below. It is easy to think that one would step down from such privileged position if voted out, but that is us thinking in our comfy chairs in nice warm house with all the luxuries available.

If cast out of council, in this scenario, you would risk losing these things. It has been touched in the story already, but I think we underestimate how huge the gap between council and average joe is in Nantucket.

You got food, you got warm place to be in, no need for heavy work and the unspoken agreement (which I myself think to exist and if it does, I myself would like to see more fleshed out as it is bound to create bad blood between council and male population) between council and den mothers ensures you never go without company unless you wish to.

As opposed to being voted out. Forced to find some employment which is not in many cases anywhere near as prestigious as work in council or as light physically, forced to live on regular rations and possibility of losing ladyfriend. Last being perhaps the most radical loss.

Longer the status quo remains as it is, harder I think it will be to transition to any form of democracy as people on top become accustomed and expecting their little perks of life.
And with all force of arms apparently controlled by one man, we have actual chance that oligarchy can switch to dictatorship as well, chosen parts of council becoming advisors and rest cast out. I recall Old Man telling Shark to STFU or have his ass dragged out by guards. Even amongst equals some are bit more equal than others.

Entertaining story anyway. Pity I have never bothered to register before.

Ok, bit long and rambling but I had really boring moment at work.

GrandMasterTerwynn wrote:

ray245 wrote:My only concern with the story, at the least from Packer's point of view is that the society that got dumped down there doesn't feel like SD.net at all.

The people are are in control doesn't seems like anyone that the people down here, and feels more like a generic dumb leadership that are actively trying to screw up the hero's life. We have many strong viewpoints, and many people who are very capable of forming logical conclusions and providing reasonable solutions to a particular problem, and yet we see none of that from Packer's point of view.

It is one thing to say that from behind your computer. It's another thing entirely to say that if one of those ridiculous RAR scenarios actually happens, only instead of Q coming out to tell us that we must do X and Y to go home and we've got A and B superpowers; we just appear on the island of Nantucket and that's that.

Ask who is actually likely to end up in charge during a situation like that. The answers, in order, will be A) The Mess. B) Ruthless people with excellent political instincts. C) People in the right place at the right time who happened to have better ideas than the guys in the area with them. Many of B and C will be older science and engineering types by the sole virtue of the type of person this board is likely to attract.

Once those slots are filled up and the authoritarian/technocratic nature of the government has time to gel, those people will be hard to remove from their positions of power and the attitude of "I'm smarter than you are, so STFU and let me do my job you crack-smoking donkey fucker" will likely imbue them with a natural suspicion of anyone who wasn't there at the get-go. Especially when they start jumping up and down in the boat and attempting things that would shift power away from the people who know what they're doing to the "plebes."

Look at how this board's population deals with trolls, and the dogpiles that form on people who say something that is seen to be blatantly stupid or ignorant.

I get your point about the council being authorian, but my point was that the depiction of the council didn't feel technocratic enough. It seems like all the people who are technocratic are depicted in a position where their influence over the council is extremely small.

Then's the problem in regards to the people they would trust. If anything, people will tend to trust the people they are more familiar with, such as the various moderators and former senators as opposed to less prominent members that we may not know.

The position of the technocrats would be even more established due to the sheer amount of time we spend as a whole discussing political issues ( for one, this board tends to focus more on politics as opposed to discussion of fictional events things).

We have to remember the conditions people are on that island. There are chronic shortages of most things. Specially women as noted often. And only group who do not experience them are the council members and women.
If shortage issues are done away, there are in my view high odds that discontent will increase radically. All members of board are products of our own rather liberal times with strong desire for democracy.
Genie is out of bottle and sticking it back in is going to be impossible in my view, and putting down rebellious groups through violence would be bad since you lose workers who may have skills which are hard to replace.

Solution of course would be implementing Packers ideas, but I think he is bit too optimistic on how likely such transition would be spontaneously.

We all like to think ourselves more or less persons of strong moral values who would accept switch to democratic system, but those who would end up in the council would know well how good their life is compared to people down below. It is easy to think that one would step down from such privileged position if voted out, but that is us thinking in our comfy chairs in nice warm house with all the luxuries available.

However, I don't think that the board is a place where people are so caught up in living in a liberal democracy that we would demand it when we are transplanted into a sucky scenario.

Look at the main discussion thread about this scenario, and we can easily notice that none of us is bringing up the idea of setting up a liberal democracy in such a scenario. Even if there are people who thinks otherwise, no one is challenging that view even when they are in their comfort of their home.

Additionally, this board is also one of the very few boards that will not view China and its actions as something that is completely evil because they are not a liberal democracy. If anything, the support that most members is gave in the defence of China's actions goes to show that we aren't that devoted to creating a liberal democracy in a place where order is more or less non-existence.

Double...

ray245 wrote: However, I don't think that the board is a place where people are so caught up in living in a liberal democracy that we would demand it when we are transplanted into a sucky scenario.

Look at the main discussion thread about this scenario, and we can easily notice that none of us is bringing up the idea of setting up a liberal democracy in such a scenario. Even if there are people who thinks otherwise, no one is challenging that view even when they are in their comfort of their home.

Additionally, this board is also one of the very few boards that will not view China and its actions as something that is completely evil because they are not a liberal democracy. If anything, the support that most members is gave in the defence of China's actions goes to show that we aren't that devoted to creating a liberal democracy in a place where order is more or less non-existence.

Ah, but how large portion of our life is this board?

Rather small honestly. We can come here and leave at will. Nantucket does not have that option.
You are stuck there 24/7 without ability to log off and go do something you want.

We are used to our little luxuries, take them away for most of us but keep them for select few and we have recipe for re-enactment of French Revolution. While people of board are not bleeding heart liberals, they do recognize the inequality of situation. On top everyone is content and wants things to remain as they are, but go down on the pyramid and discontent increases.

Idea of re-establishing democratic system is increasingly inviting when you are on the bottom with all your buddies. It gives you best, and most likely only, way for you to have a shot at getting to top and enjoying the perks. Once you are there, of course you do not want to step down.

I honestly doubt many people would for long happily accept situation where they work long hours doing crap job, get basic rations and have relationship only with their left hand while seeing how few others do not have to work, get laid when they feel like it and get the best rations.

Our ancestors lived in such situation, though theirs was actually better, but our cultures have changed a great deal since those days.

It is less about wanting democracy as such, it is more wanting the perks for yourself and/or deny them for someone else, although genuine ideologists may exist (at least until they get the power). Democracy would only be tool towards this goal if alternative of coup is not available.
Most people might actually be relatively unmotivated to initiate any action, but it is highly unlikely that there would not appear soon agitators who are far more radical Packer in the story. They would be ones who would whip the rest out of apathy, and as we see in the story once those seeds are sown it is far too late to hang the agitator, which has in human history backlashed more than once.

People on board may not condemn China, but not many would want to live life of average Chinese either.

Editor's note: This takes place on day 160, post-arrival . . .

Silverado
Something smelled good. Real good. I rubbed my eyes and tried to cudgel my brain into a semblance of proper function. This was the first time in ages where I'd slept for much of the day . . . and I'd done so on official orders. I remember that Kam had approached me as I'd come in for my shift. He told me to go back home, get some sleep, and report back at nightfall.

Now, here I am, trying to figure out why that aroma's so goddamned familiar. I entered a small conference room and my eyes widened in shock . . . there, on the table . . . a pot of honest-to-God coffee!

"That . . . that,"

"That's one of the last pots of coffee the world is going to see for a very long time," the Aussie said, stepping around me. "So I suggest you enjoy it."

Now I was normally a tea drinker. Back in the future I used to drink those godforsaken "energy drinks," but most of the ones that were on Nantucket, when we turned, up are long-gone. Genuine black coffee . . . real caffeine.

Why?

And there went my enthusiasm. Caffeine? At night?

"Long night?"

The Aussie nodded. "Emergency session of the Council. The whole section has been detailed to guard duty. Myself included."

Mentally, I whistled. The Aussie had percolated higher and higher up the power structure of the Watch. For him to be on this sort of duty . . .

"Are they going to be talking about the recent protests?"

"Tangentially, I'm sure," the Aussie replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Their principal concern is Packer himself."

Packer? So he's finally done it. He's finally pissed off the Council enough that they were going to deal with him once and for all. Well, maybe not the whole Council. In recent days an anti-Packer bloc had coalesced around James, the shark. Near as I could tell, it was comprised of some people like himself, and others who were convinced that Packer's disruptive behavior was a genuine threat. They'd pulled in enough of the fence-sitters to kill Packer's charter.

"I suggest you get a cup of coffee," the Aussie said, interrupting my train of thought. "This is going to be a very long night. And, I suspect, it will not end at sunrise."

I mulled those words over as I poured myself a cup of coffee and followed him into the Council's chambers. Already, the whole Council was there, and seated. The room buzzed as they talked amongst themselves, shuffled papers, books, and whatever else they had on the table. The Chairman happened to look up as we stepped into the room.

"Ah, gentlemen," he said, his voice theatrically loud. "Folks," he said. "As soon as the Watchmen secure the doors, I believe we can get started." He waited until we closed the doors and sat in the two folding chairs next to them. "For the record, the time is now seven minutes after midnight. This is a special session, agreed upon in a voice vote held three days prior . . . "

The rest of the words slipped by me as I settled into that uncomfortable chair and drank my coffee. The caffeine warred with my internal clock, which knew bloody well that it was past midnight. Already, I was wondering just how long this was going to drag on.

And drag on, it did. It was funny, you know? It was as if the Council wanted to keep putting off, and putting off the matter. We even took a break, used the head, and had more coffee. When we came back, that was when the meat of the session really started . . .

"And now," the Chairman said, "we come to the heart of the matter: What to do with one Alfred Packer."

I looked up as a heavy silence descended upon the room.

The Chairman cleared his throat. "There will be two parts to this. We will open the floor to discussion and debate and then we will vote. Depending on the outcome of that vote, we will convene a tribunal to decide where to go from there." He looked up and down the table. "Okay, to start off, is there someone who wishes to speak in defense of Packer?"

There was a faint murmur of voices.

"I would," Simon said, raising his hand.

"Very well," the Chairman replied. "The Chair recognizes Simon."

Simon cleared his throat. "First, I would ask if, in fact, Packer has really done anything wrong? He and his fellows proposed a charter, but talk of the same has come up here. They have held rallies and protests, but all of them have been peaceful. There are no signs that Packer wants to go any further than that. So I must ask why we are here?"

"Thank you," the Chairman said. "Anyone else?"

And so it began. Here and there, men and women raised their hands and said their piece. Why were we here? What had Packer done wrong to merit everyone being forced to come here in the dead of night to deal with him? Sure, he stepped on some toes, but how did that make him a threat? This went on for a while, but I noticed that it was limited to a handful of people. Most of whom had supported Packer's charter.

"Last call," the Chairman finally said. He waited for nearly a minute before he spoke again. "Okay then. Now, we'll open it up to the opposition. Who would like to go first?"

The shark, naturally, raised his hand.

"Very well," the Chairman said. "James, you've got the floor."

"Thank you," the shark replied, standing up. He looked around the room, his eyes seeming to lock onto those of each and every person. He radiated intensity, like a rattlesnake coiling up for the strike.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he started. "First, I would like to take issue with the notion that we are here for no good reason. Indeed, we are here for a very good reason. Why, some of you might ask? I will tell you. As you are all aware, Packer has been testing our authority ever since the Council formed. It began innocently enough, sure . . . but it has escalated as the months have gone by. Always pushing, always prodding. Culminating in what I believe to be a blatant power-grab. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we are here for a very good reason. We are here because Packer seeks to create anarchy when the thing we need most is order."

There was a murmuring between the members of the Council.

"Thank you, James," the Chairman said, clearing his throat. "Anyone else?"

Someone else raised their hand, and the Chairman recognized him.

"I'll have to agree with my esteemed colleague," the man said. "I've got to question Packer's motives. He knows we've come off a bitch of a first winter. There's fifteen percent fewer of us now than there where when we got teleported here. A new charter? Democracy? Yeah, I'm all for that, but we all know this isn't the right time for it. If it were, it would've been done already. So what's Packer's angle? I mean spring's coming up. We all know that we came together because we were in the right places at the right time. I think Packer's been biding his time, waiting till we hit our lowest, most vulnerable point to make his move."

I frowned as I listened to the man speak. But, nobody there was going to listen to the door guard. Yet, there were more murmurs from the rest of the Council. A couple of the Councilors looked like they'd just bitten into a lemon. I heard the Chairman thank the man and ask for the next one.

A woman raised her hand. Gail, I think her name was.

"All right," the Chairman said. "Gail, you've got the floor."

"Thank you," Gail replied. "I don't have anything against Mister Packer, personally. But I, and the other Den Mothers have been talking about his charter. About how it blindsided us. And that really has us worried," she said. My eyes were fixed on her. None of the women were involved? No . . . of course they weren't. If they were, the Watch would've known about Packer's charter long before he'd have gotten the idea of presenting it to the Council.

"I'm sure he means well," Gail continued. "But the other Den Mothers aren't sure that Packer really has our best interests at heart."

That got them talking. Fifteen to one. That was the ratio of men to women on Nantucket. Fifteen to one. Everyone who wasn't already married, or about to be, knew that number by heart. Knew what that represented, what it meant. Suddenly I remembered something I'd read a long time ago. Democracy was two wolves and a lamb deciding on what was for dinner. Only in this case, the women might've been thinking it was more like the whole goddamned pack of wolves and a lamb deciding on what was for dinner.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The Chairman repeatedly tapped his gavel until silence descended on the room once more.

"Thank you, Gail," the Chairman said. "I do believe," he said, after a few moments, "that it's time open the floor for rebuttals."

"If I may," Mike said.

The Chairman nodded. "Alright, you've got the floor."

"Thank you," Mike replied, standing. "First, I'd like to say: What the fuck? Everything I've heard tonight is people bitching about Packer's charter, and very little to do with the man himself. Repeatedly, the question of what we're doing here has been asked. Honestly, I have yet to see anyone here provide a satisfactory answer."

"I beg your pardon Mike," James said. "I'm sorry, but I have to disagree. Packer's charter has everything to do with it. Ladies and gentlemen, we had a plan. A 'soft landing,' was how it was sold. Survive the winter. Survive the summer and get the people used to making do with less, and less; so when things started to break down for good, there wouldn't be rioting in the streets."

"I wasn't done," Mike said, leveling his gaze at James. "What the fuck does any of that have to do with Packer? When the Council agreed to this session, I was under the impression we were here to discuss whether or not the man himself was a threat. Not to attack his ideas. If this is the best we can do, then this meeting needs to end right now."

James nodded. "I understand, and appreciate your point," he said, before looking around the room. His gaze even included those of us guarding the room. "Ladies and gentlemen, I would suggest that this is what makes Packer, the man, a threat. Perhaps he acts out of naive idealism, and we cannot rule that out. However," he said, clutching the edge of the table and leaning forward, "we must ask ourselves one question. Why is he pushing this now? I believe I have the answer. Packer wants nothing less than to set himself up as our king."

More murmuring, more chatter. Several men sprang up at once, and I couldn't make any sense of their heated words. The Chairman banged his gavel. Repeatedly.

"That is an audacious claim," the Chairman said, when things finally quieted down. "I don't think I need to remind you that we still hold ourselves to the same rigorous standards that we did back in the future."

"I know," James replied, softly. "But does Packer?" He took out what looked like a well-used piece of paper. "Allow me to repeat before the Council his own words:

"One. The vote to ratify will be a run-off election wherein any number of charters will be voted on in successive rounds, with any charter receiving greater than ten percent of the total vote being allowed to advance to the next round of voting. In between said rounds, a period of one day will elapse to allow for amendments to each charter. No charter may have elements redacted from it during the voting process; additions may be made.

"Two. Any person living on Nantucket Island as of the reading of this proposal is entitled to draft and present his own charter for public vote, provided that said charter has affixed to its body the signatures of one hundred fifty persons, who also reside on Nantucket Island.

"Ladies and gentlemen, that is a recipe for anarchy. And that's just what Packer wants. Does anyone here believe that he doesn't know just how dire our situation is?"

"Perhaps he doesn't," Mike replied. "Why should we automatically assume that Packer has some hidden motive for his actions?"

"I agree with Mike, as far as we shouldn't be so quick to assume Packer's motives." Simon said. "I'd like to add that I've said it in previous sessions, and I think it bears repeating here: The Council, as an oligarchy ruling by force, won't work in the long run. People are going to flee the island rather than put up with this kind of bullshit. Maybe Packer is aware of the precariousness of our situation, he is a 'Machinist' after all, and he feels that this is the best way forward."

James snorted. "The best way forward that just happens to lead right into Packer's grasp. I don't know about you, ladies and gentlemen, but I've spent many sleepless nights wondering what could happen to this community. We can't afford diversion, ladies and gentlemen. We can't afford divisiveness. Every . . . person capable of collecting signatures, putting forth their own charter. Imagine that? In-fighting. Anarchy. And then, when his opposition is bloodied and weary, the rabble-rouser Packer will emerge and seize power for himself."

There was thoughtful silence. A long, thoughtful, silence. It ended with a single explosive word.

"Bullshit," Mike said. "I don't think Darkstar could come up with a more idiotic rant. I asked you this before . . . where the hell is your evidence? All I'm hearing is your personal, unsupported, opinion. You're worse than a fucking Republican. If you've got something, I want to see it, and I want to see it now."

James spread his hands. "Forgive me," he said. "I was merely trying to illuminate Packer's train of thought. But I do have something for you. The Watch will assuredly corroborate this . . . Packer's Machinists, Kevin Dumfries' Horticulturalists have been observed in lengthy late-night meetings. They have been secretive in what they have been doing, but word has leaked out, here and there. The same names come up over, and over. Alfred Packer, Jason Terrence, Andrew Mullin, Russel Baquet. Since the breakup of the black market, these men, and Packer especially, have been party to discussions of dissent. Innocent enough, if done once or twice . . . but when someone talks about how unhappy they are here . . . Packer, or his friends, are always there."

"If I may," Simon said, standing up.

"Go ahead," the Chairman said. "Lord knows I barely have any control left over this meeting."

"Thank you," Simon replied. "You still haven't proven that Packer has done anything wrong. Most of us come from Western democratic traditions, where the freedom to criticize the government is held sacrosanct. Granted, Packer and his men may be meeting in secret, but look at us. Our most important decisions are made behind closed doors," he said, gesturing towards me and the Aussie, "complete with posted sentries. We're in a secret meeting right now, and I suspect we're close to three in the morning. If the worst Packer, and his people, have done is have secret meetings and hold rallies, then I'm uncertain what the fuss is about."

"Thank you," the Chairman said, after Simon took his seat. "James?"

James took a sip of water from his glass, and then slowly looked around the room. If the lateness of the night was wearing on him, it sure wasn't showing.

"I beg to differ," he finally said. "Packer's history of butting heads with the Council more than proves his dissatisfaction. Conspiring with close associates to create a charter, to sow confusion and discord when we can ill-afford neither just shows that he has moved beyond mere discontent. There is more. I have signed statements swearing that at least a couple of men in Packer's bloc have mentioned the possibility of work stoppages. Doing something that, and I quote, 'those fuckers can't ignore.' It has been said that those who ignore history do so at their own peril."

"Oh sure," James said, gripping the table. "It starts with rallies. Protests. Demonstrations. Subversion in beer halls . . . you get the picture. But then, then it becomes resistance. Non-violent, sure. Simple obstructionism. Then work stoppages. Before long, outright sabotage! Ladies and gentlemen; Packer is leading us down a very dark path. I would submit that he's allowed his true colors to show. His true intentions. He knows that we can't afford to lose any productivity. He would hold our very survival hostage! And for what," he said, his eyes meeting Simon's. "Democracy?"

He chuckled. It was a harsh, humorless sound.

"No, ladies and gentlemen . . . what Packer seeks is not freedom for all, but personal power! We have a chance to stop him before he can organize more than just rallies by his people. But we must act now!"

With that, he finally sat down. The rest of the councilors looked pensive. Eyes shifted back and forth, and murmurs were exchanged.

"Does anyone have anything else to say," the Chairman finally asked. "James, you do have copies of what you have, I trust?"

"I do."

The Chairman nodded. "Very well, then. Watchmen," he said. "Please, leave the room. The Council is going to vote now."

As we stood, he went on. "You all know the rules. For this, a simple majority will do. If this goes to tribunal, that will require a sixty percent supermajority . . . "

We left the room and sat outside. I exhaled deeply. Tried to push off the shakes. The outcome of that vote no certain thing, to be sure. I wasn't sure the shark would've made it out of the board's Coliseum alive, but this wasn't a for-fun debate on an internet web board. No, this was a matter of life and death.

Through that closed door, I could hear raised voices. Seemed the debate wasn't really over. They didn't call us back in, though, so I guess it didn't come to blows. Finally, though, the voices quieted down.

It was nearly an hour after we'd been told to leave before the door opened, and the Old Man stepped out. He looked about twenty years older then, and my heart just sank at the sight.

"Gentlemen," he said. "The Council has directed the Watch to take Packer into custody. I'm going to send the Mess members to the workshop to lock it down and make sure he doesn't know what's coming. Your team," he said, looking to the Aussie, "will be responsible for taking him down."

"I understand," the Aussie replied, his voice unusually soft. "You heard him," he said. "Get your guns. I'll be waiting for you outside. Let's get this done as quickly as we can."

"Not too quickly," the Old Man said, with a single shake of his head. "The tribunal is still deciding what is to be done with him."

It was all a blur after that. I remember getting my gun and strapping it on. Checking the cylinder . . . load one, skip one, load four. In my mind, I had a horrible vision . . .

Of getting to that house, only to find that somehow, someone beat him to us and tipped him off . . .

Of Packer coming at us with one of those hammers the other Machinists were carrying . . .

Of being forced to draw my old Colt in anger, or even just to keep breathing . . .

Of a hammer dropping from a nerveless hand and blood pouring out a .45-sized hole . . .

Of hate and betrayal being the last things to flash across Packer's eyes before the light left 'em forever . . .

Of livin' the rest of my days here in mortal terror for my own life . . .

Those thoughts were on my mind as we rode. We drove quickly, hoping our cars would be fast enough. And, as they usually did, those thoughts, those doubts finally left my mind. If it came down to it. If it was a choice between me and him. Or him and John. Him and the Aussie. Him and the Old Man himself . . . I'd do my goddamned job and protect those I had to protect. Stare into the eyes of enough dead men, and they stop staring back.

With that cheerful thought on my mind, we arrived. We fairly leaped from our cars, clustering around the Aussie.

"Don't talk to him. Don't acknowledge him. Don't say anything to him," he said. "I trust you will all get this point and do so quickly."

I nodded. The other guys on the team nodded. I sure wasn't going to say anything.

"Good," the Aussie said. "John, take your men and work your way behind the house. Try to stay low. We have Rob covering the area with a rifle, and he would appreciate it if you kept the lines of fire clear."

"I got it," John said. "Sean and Lee, you're with me."

They left me and the Aussie alone. It felt like forever. My arm was tensing up, as if Packer would come jumping out of the shrubs at any goddamned moment.

But nothing like that happened. What happened was that our radios clicked twice. Then, they clicked three more times. That was the signal . . . John and his boys were in position. It was time for Packer's date with the Council.

We walked right up to Packer's house. I started looking for cover when the Aussie held up his hand.

"No," he said. "We wait here." I looked at him, lifting my eyebrows, but he stood firm. I had just enough time to wipe the emotion from my face when I heard that front door open.

"Morning, Mister Packer," the Aussie said to Packer, his arms crossed. "You're coming with us."

"Morning, gentlemen," Packer replied. He seemed as composed as the circumstances would merit, but I'd seen enough cop shows to know that most traffic stops that ended badly often started out perfectly normal.

"Given the separation between myself the two of you, I'd wager that you've got someone in that empty house across the street, covering you with...what, a rifle? So, if I somehow manage to fight my way through the two of you, I probably get one warning shot, right?"

Unconsciously, my eyes darted toward the Aussie, even as my hand edged closer toward the cold comfort of that old Colt.

"Something like that," the Aussie replied, his eyes on Packer. Just as he was about to speak again . . .

"And, I would assume, in the event that I attempted to run back into my house and escape through the back door, that you have one or more members of your team or squad or whatever stationed in my backyard, ready to play a home run derby with my gonads?"

What the hell are you doing? I wanted to yell. Maybe it was a combination of the caffeine and sleep deprivation, but I could swear Packer was trying to unnerve us.

"Again, something like that," the Aussie repeated in much the same tone I imagined him using with an especially slow child. That immediately set me on edge.

"Very well, then, you've got me," Packer took a deep breath. "When you tell the story to the rest of the Watch, can you make me out into less of a pussy than I'm acting like right now?" Packer raised his hands. "I am unarmed, of course, but I imagine that prudence demands that you search me. Should I get down on the ground?"

Another glance at the Aussie. There it was, the faintest tic; gone as quick as it'd arrived . . . hidden in the wordless shake of his head. I moved, fast as I could, to pat Packer down. If he was carrying a hammer, I wanted that fucker out of his reach before Packer could try to make my vision a reality.

Keys? Good weapons. Away they went. Phone? Take it out, bag it as evi . . . wait . . . phone? What the hell? It had been nearly six months since the Malevolent Powers had dumped us on this godforsaken island. Why the hell would he still have a cellphone?

My confusion, apparently, was showing; prompting Packer to say something that I missed.

"Cuff him," the Aussie said, with a faint touch of rebuke in his voice. Actions could speak too. I shook it off and moved to cuff Packer, who said something about never being cuffed before. What struck me was that he'd said it in a Jersey accent. I don't know whether he was trying to be smart, or what. Fortunately, the Aussie saved me from another voiceless gaffe.

"Alferd Packer, you are hereby arrested. You will be taken before an emergency tribunal, where your punishment will be determined."

"Oh shit, I'm arrested? I thought you guys were here to paddle my ass for being a naughty little boy!" As he lifted his hands, my hand automatically went for my sixgun. I froze, eyes fixed on his hands. "Well, at least now I understand the handcuffs. Although, if you were here to paddle my ass, the handcuffs would still make sense. I tend to be a rough bottom," he continued, seemingly oblivious.

"Shut the fuck up. Let's go," the Aussie said with a snap. That was a flash of anger the man almost never displayed . . . the tension had to really be getting to him. A sobering thought, that. Almost as sobering as the thought that Packer had just come within half a second of death . . . I shook it off, as best I could. Still, it was all I could do to patiently guide him to the car. It was all I could do to continue to ignore him. Even as he tried to make small-talk . . . as if he wasn't restrained in the back of a police Crown Vic like some common criminal.

I shut him out. I took out his phone, started looking at it . . . it was on. What are you thinking, Al Packer? A charged phone three-thousand years from the nearest cell-tower. Naze? Why?

"Put it away," the Aussie said. I flushed, immediately feeling like I'd been caught with my hand in the proverbial cookie jar. Wasn't too long after that, that we arrived at the Watchhouse near the high school. The tribunal, apparently, had adjourned to there. The Aussie left to make our report, and I was left alone with Packer.

"Any chance of getting these off?" Packer asked. I looked at him. After what you pulled this morning? You'd have better luck using the Force to break out of here, I thought. But I just shook my head.

He started talking. And I started trying to tune him out. I ran through Hare Hare Yukai in my head over and over, hoping that Haruhi, Q, and the other Malevolent Powers might be in a favorable mood today.

"You know, I don't think I'd have done it differently. I'm sure that you don't believe me," Packer said. For some reason, I stopped trying to tune him out, "but I want this change to come about peacefully. I want it to be civilized. I'll admit, the threat of violence certainly deterred me from getting physical during my arrest, but I also want to make it clear--clear to you, and clear to the Council, that we will not resort to violence. At least, that's my position. Some of my guys are younger. Hotheaded. I can only hope that they control themselves."

Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot? You know, I was half-expecting that the shark might've been lying when he said he had evidence against you, Packer . . . but now . . . sonofabitch. 'I won't resort to violence, but watch out for my friends.'

"Fuck, these things are on tight. Say, what's Muskeget like? They say there are some buildings out on it now. Like a prison barracks or something?"

Yes I wanted to say. A drafty clapboard shack with a tin roof, but if it were up to me, you and your friends would be off to Martha's Vineyard . . . covering it in mile-long ditches . . .

Two knocks. I exhaled sharply, that would be the Aussie. It was time. We lead Packer down the hallway.

"Her name is Jenny. We were married for three and a half years. The phone's all I have left of her. So...thank you for not breaking it, or anything like that," he said, just as we were about to reach the doors. I blinked, even as my body kept moving on autopilot. That explains the phone, a little voice said. Huh.

I got a good look at the tribunal. The Old Man was there. Simon and Gail were there. James too . . . I wondered just how the tribunal had been drawn up, just then. It was a disturbing thought, one that carried me through much of the proceedings.

" . . . furthermore," the Old Man leaned forward, "it was argued--successfully--that your motives are not pure, and you cannot be trusted. Do you deny that you seek power for yourself?"

I looked up. Looked at Packer. So did everybody else in that room.

"Yes!" he cried out. "I deny it with all force! I thought what I wanted was self-evident!" He shook his head. "You don't get it, do you?"

"What don't we get, Mister Packer?" Simon asked.

"I want you guys to be a legitimate government!" Packer fairly shouted. "Might makes right isn't good enough, guys! If you bully us long enough, keep us down for enough time, we'll never be able to bounce back to anything like the society we knew! We'll be back to square one: the guy with the biggest club gets the best stuff, and fuck everyone else!"

An icy chill traveled down my spine. The shark's words from the previous night surged to the front of my brain. They collided head-on with Packer's words in that cramped little room from a few minutes earlier. Free the oppressed masses! Or else! And I wasn't the only one to think that. An angry buzz immediately filled the room.

"Leave it to a fucking American to try something so blatant!" one of the men on the tribunal snapped.

"Idiot!" Packer said, his face contorted in a snarl. "How can I pound this through your thick skull? Oh, okay, here. Is there a stenographer in here? If nominated, I will not run. If elected, I will not serve! Can I make it any clearer?"

I looked at him. For the first time, the fog of anger lifted from my head and I looked at Packer again. He looked genuinely frustrated. But the damage had been done, I risked a glance at the shark. His eyes met mine, and I saw in them savage satisfaction.

"That's quite enough!" the Old Man said. No slamming his hand on the table. No more anger than the snap in his voice. As he continued to speak, his voice softened, and the temperature in that room started to plummet. "Your punishment," he finally said, "will be determined by you."

Don't fuck this up, Packer, I thought, as hard as I could. Please don't fuck this up.

Packer frowned. "In that case, I sentence myself to a slap on the wrist." He slapped the back of his left wrist with his right hand, then looked back up at the dais.

For the record, I tried.

"Should you elect not to cooperate," the Old Man continued. Each word dripped liquid helium. "It will mean your death. Worse, though, it will mean death for others under your command." There was more, words spoken like a death sentence.

"So, I guess I'm cooperating, then?" Packer replied. I looked at him, and it looked like the situation was finally sinking in.

"It would be most prudent," the Old Man said. "If you cooperate, your men will be spared any punishment for current actions. I cannot, of course, promise them immunity from future prosecution, but if they harm no one, they will operate with the same autonomy they now enjoy...though, without you in their midst."

Muskeget? No, not Muskeget. The Old Man wouldn't be this grave if it were just Muskeget. He informed Packer of the conditions of the tribunal's leniency, but the thought on Packer's mind was the same as mine.

"If that's how it has to be, that's how it'll be. Beg pardon, sir, but you didn't answer my question. I feel I've behaved reasonably, and I'm not out of line in asking this. How long am I going to be on Muskeget?"

Silence.

I closed my eyes. What had the tribunal elected to do with him? If not hanging, if not Muskeget, what? Certainly not Martha's Vineyard. Too many people would be going there in a couple of months. For many, it wouldn't be their first choice in destinations. I closed my eyes. What if . . . what if the Old Man was just moments away from informing Packer that the tribunal had elected to simply take him out back and shoot him?

"Mister Packer, it is the ruling of this tribunal that you are too dangerous an individual to simply maroon on Muskeget for a month or two. We would waste inordinate amounts of resources in patrolling the entire island to ensure you aren't rescued by someone."

That was a damned lie. Muskeget was a glorified sandbar, surrounded by more sandbars, shoals, random acts of fog, and similar water hazards. It was something of a bitch to get to, and more of a bitch to get off. One person got swept out into the Atlantic in a rip tide. And a couple people did try to go out and pull off a rescue . . . for one of their buddies sent there . . . and we only found out when their friends came forward a week later, because the would-be rescuers had never made it; nor did they ever come back.

"In two weeks' time," the Old man continued, "you will board a boat bound for Lewis Bay, on the southern shore of Cape Cod. This location is the site of our first and, so far, only confirmed contact with natives. You will make landfall there, and a boat will return in three days to retrieve you. Of course, I need not tell you that, alone in an exceedingly hostile environment, you will most likely be killed before your rescuers arrive. This is our aim."

The rest was lost to me. The Old Man had just sentenced Packer to a super-Muskeget. Just then, I sorely wished I'd been party to that tribunal. What had gone on in there for them to decide on such an . . . unusual fate for Packer?

I looked at the man. I watched him. Everybody in that room watched him. He was deathly pale and he had this haunted look in his eyes, as if the terror would consume him at any moment. And then, suddenly:

"Sir, you'd better get me those documents to sign," he said, and we all did a double-take. It wasn't the words, no. It was the tone of voice in which they were spoken. Spoken in much the same tone of voice as the one a movie star might use in his Oscar acceptance speech. I looked into Packer's eyes and I shivered. The lights were on, yes, but I didn't see anybody home.

No, that wasn't right. There was somebody home. But whoever he was, might've been a couple of eggs short. I was alarmed by how cheerful Packer looked, as he signed his life away. It looked like a cheer that bordered on the manic.

"Gentlemen," the Old Man said, finally looking to us. "Take him away."

I nodded, a bit numb. Were we really willing to go that far to sit on rebellion, I thought, as we hauled Packer up. He moved, as if on autopilot, as we lead him out of that room. It was a short walk to the end of the hall where Kartr and a couple other Watchmen were waiting.

"We'll take him from here," Kartr said. As we let Packer go, the Aussie cast a glance at me and cleared his throat before pointedly glancing at Packer.

"Huh?"

"I believe you have something of Mister Packer's," he replied, sotto voce. "I imagine he would like it back."

"Oh . . . ohh!" I reached into my pocket and extracted Packer's phone. I handed it back to him, who took it with a vacant smile. I wasn't sure if he even noticed my exchange with the Aussie. Poor bastard.

We watched Kartr half-lead, half frog-march Packer out the door. When he was gone, I looked at the Aussie.

"So, what now?"

"We're going to go back up the hallway and wait for the Council to adjourn."

I nodded, following the Aussie back. It wasn't a very long wait; as the doors were soon flung open and the various Council members filed out. It was hard to gauge their faces as they went by. I wasn't sure any of them were really satisfied with what they'd just done. Couldn't really blame them. Only the shark looked as though he were genuinely happy, but there was no gloating to it. Not yet, anyway.

A couple minutes after that, we heard a voice from inside the room.

"Gentlemen," the Old Man said. "Please, come in."

We stepped inside, the Aussie and I. The Aussie closed the door behind us, and it was just the three of us. I looked around the room. Without the tribunal there, it was just another conference room. Someone from back in the future would've never guessed that it was becoming our very own Star Chamber.

"I would like to thank you for your hard work," the Old Man said. "This was a difficult assignment, for all of us."

Wasn't that the goddamned truth? But I kept my mouth shut. The Old Man reached inside his jacket, and pulled out a stainless steel flask. The brushed steel gleamed in the light.

"It's from my private reserve," he said, by way of explanation. "Join me for a drink," he added, uncapping the flask and holding it out. I looked at it, trying not to drop my jaw. I glanced at the Aussie, but before I could look back at the flask, he'd already reached out to take it.

"Rank," he said, "hath its privileges." He took a deep pull from the flask. If the liquor hit him, it sure as hell didn't show. He then passed it on to me. I took a tentative sniff . . . bourbon. I took a sip. Good bourbon. I then gave in, and took a deep pull of my own. It went down smooth and exploded in near-instant intoxication.

"God damn, sir, that's good shit . . . uh, excuse my French, sir."

The Old Man's lips quirked upward as he took the flask from me, and took a drink of his own.

"Let me tell you a story," he said, after a minute or two. "Back when I was in the service, I once had the joy of cleaning out six other guys in a game of poker. It was the end of the night, and we were on the last hand; four of 'em had already called it quits, and the fifth soon followed. I kept raising the stakes till that last man looked at me, and threw his cards down in disgust." His eyes locked on mine, and then the Aussie's. "When I laid them out . . what do you think my cards were?"

I was starting to see where this was going, but I wasn't one to interrupt a good story.

He grinned. It was faint, but it was grin nonetheless. "A pair of deuces, with an ace high."

My eyes widened. "A bluff?"

"Exactly," the Old Man replied. "Gentlemen, this is not to leave this room . . . but I am glad that Packer didn't call mine."

I stared at him. A question bubbled up from the darkest depths of my mind, and before I knew it:

"Sir . . . what would've happened if he had?"

The Old Man looked at me. His face entirely expressionless, his eyes betraying nothing.

"Some questions," he finally said, "are better left unanswered."

Well, it turns out I tried.
If there was an adequately expressive smiley for depressed resignation, I would use that here.

Tiwaz wrote:Greetings.

Long time lurker deciding to register and chime in. Some might have seen me on some other forum, or perhaps not.

Tiwaz, greetings to you too, and you sound like a nice person. One minor issue: could you be a little more careful to use indefinite articles such as 'a,' 'an,' and 'the?' Heinlein's Luna City might be a nice place to live, but we aren't there.

ray245 wrote:I get your point about the council being authorian, but my point was that the depiction of the council didn't feel technocratic enough. It seems like all the people who are technocratic are depicted in a position where their influence over the council is extremely small.

The problem is that technocracy doesn't answer the really important question any government needs to address: "what are we planning to do, anyway?" Technocrats have lots of ideas, but they're short on objectives; at best their objectives vary with the spirit of the times. Today's technocrats would probably like to create a cyberdemocracy, but their predecessors of eighty years ago would mostly have advocated a world in which everyone's life was optimized based on the tabulation results from their personal punch card.

What makes matters worse is that technocrats tend to morph into plain authoritarians when you give them real power, because they start running into friction*. And they often prefer to power through it rather than grease the skids under the Big New Plan of the week. If people aren't happy working ten hour shifts in the fields, which do you do? Reorganize everything to cut them back to eight hour shifts, or detailing one man in twenty to stand over the other nineteen with a crossbow all day? It's very tempting to choose the one that cuts your labor force by 5% instead of 20%.

*If you've read Clausewitz, yes, that kind of friction. If you haven't, just follow the link...

Tiwaz wrote:Ah, but how large portion of our life is this board? Rather small honestly. We can come here and leave at will. Nantucket does not have that option. You are stuck there 24/7 without ability to log off and go do something you want.

We are used to our little luxuries, take them away for most of us but keep them for select few and we have recipe for re-enactment of French Revolution. While people of board are not bleeding heart liberals, they do recognize the inequality of situation. On top everyone is content and wants things to remain as they are, but go down on the pyramid and discontent increases.

On the other hand, when you are really on the bottom, you have only one thing left to lose: your life. And when you've already lost everything else, you don't throw that away lightly. And I say "don't" for a reason: people empirically do not do that. Ruling classes succeed in oppressing the people, all the time, in half a dozen different flavors. And that's just counting the ones that exist now.

Put people in a situation where most of them are smart enough to know that having things really fall apart would be worse than what they face now... it could easily go double then. Think about it: a level of social upheaval comparable to the French Revolution would kill the entire Nantucket-Netter population. To take the most obvious example, they're not getting laid... because there are only about 200 women on the island. Take away the status quo (those 200 women under armed guard), and you raise a lot of questions with no happy answers.

People will at least keep their heads down until they no longer believe that the status quo will change on its own. And since the Council is still planning moves that will change things for the better, objectively, up until at least Day 150-160... that hope will still be alive. What Packer's friends describe on Day 310 is the logical consquence of it starting to fade. If Packer and friends don't find a way to stop it (hopefully with Council help), it's going to kill everyone.

Simon_Jester wrote:Tiwaz, greetings to you too, and you sound like a nice person. One minor issue: could you be a little more careful to use indefinite articles such as 'a,' 'an,' and 'the?' Heinlein's Luna City might be a nice place to live, but we aren't there.

Heh. Well, got you fooled on being nice. Oh well.
As for indefinite articles, I'll try my best. However, they are kind of difficult for me to grasp, my native language lacks such articles completely so remembering where and when to use them tends to be an issue for me. I'll try to be more careful in the future.

Simon_Jester wrote:On the other hand, when you are really on the bottom, you have only one thing left to lose: your life. And when you've already lost everything else, you don't throw that away lightly. And I say "don't" for a reason: people empirically do not do that. Ruling classes succeed in oppressing the people, all the time, in half a dozen different flavors. And that's just counting the ones that exist now.

It is true, until you have people who start preaching of an alternative.
Another thing we must notice is that successful oppression tends to take place in nations which have not been successfully democratic and liberal, or at least have not been such for any prolonged period.

We also have loads of rebellions by people who just had nothing more to lose than their life, and when that life was miserable enough they no longer gave a damn. What is needed is man who gives them hope and assures them of possibility of victory.

So Shark is quite right in his statement. Packer had every chance of starting open rebellion, and it would have taken place whether he wanted or not. If it had not been Packer, someone would have come out soon enough in his place. In society which is essentially an oligarchy but inhabited by thousands of people mainly from democratic and liberal nations it is impossible not to have such event.

Put people in a situation where most of them are smart enough to know that having things really fall apart would be worse than what they face now... it could easily go double then. Think about it: a level of social upheaval comparable to the French Revolution would kill the entire Nantucket-Netter population. To take the most obvious example, they're not getting laid... because there are only about 200 women on the island. Take away the status quo (those 200 women under armed guard), and you raise a lot of questions with no happy answers.

People are smart, but they are also self centered at heart. Yes, 200 women. And yet not one councilman goes without getting laid unless they choose to. It is these well known issues of inequality which will ruffle the feathers of modern person in such situation the wrong way in my estimate.

If Council had acted smart, in hindsight, they would have imposed limitations on themselves. Most likely similar to those mentioned for the Watch. If you want a woman, you can't be in the council. If you want to be in the Council, you have to do with alternatives.

It would sort out the blatant inequality in position and privileges of people in my view to some limit. People are much more eager to tolerate oppression of those who show themselves as sacrificing something for "the common good". It appeals to human nature, we are pack animals after all.

People will at least keep their heads down until they no longer believe that the status quo will change on its own. And since the Council is still planning moves that will change things for the better, objectively, up until at least Day 150-160... that hope will still be alive. What Packer's friends describe on Day 310 is the logical consquence of it starting to fade. If Packer and friends don't find a way to stop it (hopefully with Council help), it's going to kill everyone.

You are perfectly correct here. At beginning there is speech of soft landing, which is then postponed indefinitely.

And yes, it is going to end up in few ways I think. Full blown revolution where Watch takes side of Council, leading to huge bloodshed and either re-enactment of French revolution with executed "nobility", or changes are forced and more scapegoats from ranks of Council to be put to chopping block.
Or military coup where again Council heads will roll.

That is the problem with delay, when change finally comes people are not contect with "mere" change, they want to see someone punished as well. And I think Council knows this well.

Tiwaz wrote:People are smart, but they are also self centered at heart. Yes, 200 women. And yet not one councilman goes without getting laid unless they choose to. It is these well known issues of inequality which will ruffle the feathers of modern person in such situation the wrong way in my estimate.

If Council had acted smart, in hindsight, they would have imposed limitations on themselves. Most likely similar to those mentioned for the Watch. If you want a woman, you can't be in the council. If you want to be in the Council, you have to do with alternatives.

That's a good point. However the women are a huge part and, arguably, the actual driving force of the power structure. The Den Mothers are more likely to get to know Councilman Bob, instead of Woodcutter Jack; and are more likely to gain a favorable impression of Bob and, thus, be more likely to approve when one of their wards takes a fancy to him. Good for Bob, and not so good for Jack. When the restrictions on the Watch were imposed, they were driven by the Council. The Council, at the time, didn't want to create the impression of playing favorites. Many did, initially, take great pains to try to follow the rules themselves. A few of those ended up leaving the Council during the Long Winter, and their replacements were either a little more shark-minded, or didn't really grasp the full implication of the rule.

People will at least keep their heads down until they no longer believe that the status quo will change on its own. And since the Council is still planning moves that will change things for the better, objectively, up until at least Day 150-160... that hope will still be alive. What Packer's friends describe on Day 310 is the logical consquence of it starting to fade. If Packer and friends don't find a way to stop it (hopefully with Council help), it's going to kill everyone.

You are perfectly correct here. At beginning there is speech of soft landing, which is then postponed indefinitely.

Now there's the interesting thing. Nobody in the Council chambers ever said that the soft landing is postponed indefinitely. At the time Packer got thrown off the island, Nantucket had quite a bit of breathing room. The SD-netters had succeeded in getting Nantucket's wind turbine working mid-winter, though it was very under-utilized until planting season was underway. (Remember that Packer and his co-conspirators were plotting around camping lanterns in the dark at the end of winter. Contrast to the early summer when the turbine's permanent failure is greeted as a full-blown crisis, that prompts the Council to agree to the Eagle mission. Which is really something of a super-super Muskeget, only they were all volunteers.)

Tiwaz wrote:Heh. Well, got you fooled on being nice. Oh well.
As for indefinite articles, I'll try my best. However, they are kind of difficult for me to grasp, my native language lacks such articles completely so remembering where and when to use them tends to be an issue for me. I'll try to be more careful in the future.

I guessed it was something like that. Out of curiosity, which language? I wasn't kidding about "you sound like a nice person," though.

I'd suggest concentrating on putting "the" in the right places first; that's the one that gets used the most, and the one that people miss the most when it isn't there. That may just be me, though.
___________

It is true, until you have people who start preaching of an alternative.
Another thing we must notice is that successful oppression tends to take place in nations which have not been successfully democratic and liberal, or at least have not been such for any prolonged period.

We also have loads of rebellions by people who just had nothing more to lose than their life, and when that life was miserable enough they no longer gave a damn. What is needed is man who gives them hope and assures them of possibility of victory.

True to a point, but this is a tricky situation. It's certainly possible for a rebellion to start, but it isn't going to happen fast, and it isn't going to happen until people stop believing any sentence that begins with "The Council" and ends with good intentions. That takes time- and it's already what we see happening around Day 300. When people lose faith in the Council's competence and honor, this spontaneous oligarchy is going to fall apart completely- that's the main problem with it right there. which is a point I seem to be making in-story, too.

But I'm not at all surprised to not see a rebellion forming in the first few months. That's the time when the hardship is strongest, as is the hope that things will get better. This is a situation so messy that it honestly makes sense to have an unelected government for a while.

If Council had acted smart, in hindsight, they would have imposed limitations on themselves. Most likely similar to those mentioned for the Watch. If you want a woman, you can't be in the council. If you want to be in the Council, you have to do with alternatives.

It would sort out the blatant inequality in position and privileges of people in my view to some limit. People are much more eager to tolerate oppression of those who show themselves as sacrificing something for "the common good". It appeals to human nature, we are pack animals after all.

This is probably all true... but try getting the Council to vote "aye." I don't think even I would expect this to pass- I know I wouldn't propose it. Because while on the one hand it's a privilege that the plebes will resent very much, it's also a privilege that is, shall we say, near and dear to the hearts of the people who enjoy it.

And to tell you the truth, I can't blame them. There's a real problem with the armed guard setup, which is that even letting all the guys on the island who "just want to talk to" the women is liable to turn messy. It's not a good solution; it's just the best one anyone can think of for the time being.

You are perfectly correct here. At beginning there is speech of soft landing, which is then postponed indefinitely.

Is it really, though? It's not like you can flip a switch labelled "Resume the Iron Age" and go back to pre-industrial or early industrial technology overnight.

GrandMasterTerwynn wrote:That's a good point. However the women are a huge part and, arguably, the actual driving force of the power structure. The Den Mothers are more likely to get to know Councilman Bob, instead of Woodcutter Jack; and are more likely to gain a favorable impression of Bob and, thus, be more likely to approve when one of their wards takes a fancy to him. Good for Bob, and not so good for Jack. When the restrictions on the Watch were imposed, they were driven by the Council. The Council, at the time, didn't want to create the impression of playing favorites. Many did, initially, take great pains to try to follow the rules themselves. A few of those ended up leaving the Council during the Long Winter, and their replacements were either a little more shark-minded, or didn't really grasp the full implication of the rule.

Could you detail the rule in question again?

Now there's the interesting thing. Nobody in the Council chambers ever said that the soft landing is postponed indefinitely. At the time Packer got thrown off the island, Nantucket had quite a bit of breathing room. The SD-netters had succeeded in getting Nantucket's wind turbine working mid-winter, though it was very under-utilized until planting season was underway. (Remember that Packer and his co-conspirators were plotting around camping lanterns in the dark at the end of winter. Contrast to the early summer when the turbine's permanent failure is greeted as a full-blown crisis, that prompts the Council to agree to the Eagle mission. Which is really something of a super-super Muskeget, only they were all volunteers.)

I'm not sure I'd characterize the mission to Europe that way. Exile to Muskeget or super-Muskeget is just that: exile, with too few people and resources to make a go of it in the place you're exiled to.

The Eagle mission isn't like that: they have enough resources that while they might not be able to set up as conquistadores, they're at least reasonably assured of survival and the ability to come back at will. That makes a huge difference.

Simon_Jester wrote:

GrandMasterTerwynn wrote:That's a good point. However the women are a huge part and, arguably, the actual driving force of the power structure. The Den Mothers are more likely to get to know Councilman Bob, instead of Woodcutter Jack; and are more likely to gain a favorable impression of Bob and, thus, be more likely to approve when one of their wards takes a fancy to him. Good for Bob, and not so good for Jack. When the restrictions on the Watch were imposed, they were driven by the Council. The Council, at the time, didn't want to create the impression of playing favorites. Many did, initially, take great pains to try to follow the rules themselves. A few of those ended up leaving the Council during the Long Winter, and their replacements were either a little more shark-minded, or didn't really grasp the full implication of the rule.

Could you detail the rule in question again?

From the Birdcage segment:

On the other hand, the Old Man's words had been burned into our heads:

"There will be no fraternization with the women. They have been instructed not to speak with you, and I expect you to return the favor. If I hear that any of you were trying to take liberties, or take advantage of your position: I will personally have your balls fed to you on a silver platter."

He paused, and let his warning sink in. And then, he cleared his throat.

"The Council does not want to give the general population the impression that they are playing favorites."

That was us. Surrounded by the only modern women on Earth, but unable to do a goddamned thing about it. People had raised a stink those first few weeks, when some in the Night Watch were using their positions to buy the favor of the ladies; and were using that same power to move the competition out of the way. We lost two people that way. Passions had gotten inflamed, and they'd let their cocks do their thinking for 'em. Unfortunately, one of 'em made the fatal mistake of bringin' a knife to a gunfight. The Council came down on the winner like the proverbial ton of bricks. Instead of winning the heart of a lady, he won an all-expenses-paid trip to Muskeget Island. In the dead of winter. He was sentenced to a week out there . . . but he didn't make it. When we went out to find him . . . all we found was a frozen corpse.

So the rules were simple. If you wanted to settle down, you left the Watch. If you didn't, you kept it in your pants. So, here we were, guardians . . . gaolers. There were but a couple hundred women on an island populated by three-thousand lonely young men. More than a few of those men would find release in the beds of their fellow men. The folks who weren't gay to begin with were naturally bisexual to some degree. But there were an awful lot of guys who weren't as bisexual as their fellow man; and were too goddamned young and stupid for their own good. And there were enough of 'em around that it was safer to keep the women all contained in one place.

Now there's the interesting thing. Nobody in the Council chambers ever said that the soft landing is postponed indefinitely. At the time Packer got thrown off the island, Nantucket had quite a bit of breathing room. The SD-netters had succeeded in getting Nantucket's wind turbine working mid-winter, though it was very under-utilized until planting season was underway. (Remember that Packer and his co-conspirators were plotting around camping lanterns in the dark at the end of winter. Contrast to the early summer when the turbine's permanent failure is greeted as a full-blown crisis, that prompts the Council to agree to the Eagle mission. Which is really something of a super-super Muskeget, only they were all volunteers.)

I'm not sure I'd characterize the mission to Europe that way. Exile to Muskeget or super-Muskeget is just that: exile, with too few people and resources to make a go of it in the place you're exiled to.

The Eagle mission isn't like that: they have enough resources that while they might not be able to set up as conquistadores, they're at least reasonably assured of survival and the ability to come back at will. That makes a huge difference.

They are, true, but more than a few who went out on the Eagle were the sorts of people the Council would be happier without. And if some of them happened to be speared by Iberians or tried to go native before Eagle comes back (assuming it didn't run afoul of a storm, or something) . . . well; sucked to be them, but so much the better for the community. Lose a few troublemakers, gain some Bronze Age hotties and a hold filled with Bronze Age trade goods = win for the Council. The Eagle and its hands going to the bottom of the Atlantic? Well, hey, we were probably going to have to give her up as part of our soft-landing anyway. And besides, that's fewer mouths to feed for the second winter! So . . . not as much win for the Council, but kinda-sorta win is still better than epic fail. At least, that's what I'd suspect the Council's thoughts on the matter would be.