5
2824 A.D.
—Present Day—
“T his is why we never should have cut funding to the fleet,” Admiral Durand, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff said.
Sitting at the head of the table, President Wallace rubbed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “We don’t have funding for the fleet. It’s not a question of what we should have done, but what we could have done, and the answer was the same then as it is now—if we don’t watch our spending we won’t be able to continue making payments on our debt, and the Solarians will come and collect.”
“That’s a moot point if they’re the ones who attacked us,” General Russo of the Marine Corps said.
Wallace shook his head. “I agree, but we’ve got nothing to tie them to the attack.”
“Who else has the resources to do something like this? We know we didn’t attack ourselves,” General Eriksson replied. He was from the air force.
“Do we know that? What about the Humanists?” Durand asked.
Wallace nodded. “It’s possible, but I don’t know what they could stand to gain by destroying Lunar City.”
“What if it really was aliens?” Anderson put in.
Eriksson stifled a laugh. “Admiral Anderson, I fear your association with that disgrace, Becker, may have colored your view. There are no aliens.”
“Really. Over a hundred billion stars in the Milky Way and you’re going to tell me that not one of them apart from ours spawned intelligent life?”
“If one of them did, then why haven’t they made contact with us yet?”
“Maybe that’s what we’re looking at—first contact,” Anderson countered.
Wallace raised his hands to forestall further conjecture. “Gentlemen, we will find out who did this, but right now we need to focus on how we can defend ourselves from another attack. If those missiles had hit Earth, you can multiply the casualties by a hundred.”
“We’re doing our best, sir,” Fleet Admiral Anderson put in, “but we only have two fleets, and both of them are stretched thin as it is trying to cover all of our orbital space. To defend ourselves adequately, we’d need several rings of ships around Earth, all of them scanning for incoming ordnance 24/7. More eyes and more guns.”
“That’s the ideal solution,” Wallace replied, nodding, “but we still need to get the funding for that from somewhere.”
“Get rid of the dole and use the money to build a bigger fleet,” Durand suggested.
“You know we can’t do that,” Wallace replied. “Most people live off the dole because they have no choice. They’re unemployed because there aren’t enough jobs, not because they don’t want one.”
Anderson snorted. “They’re addicts of the Mindscape, sir, so at this point it’s fair to assume both conditions are true.”
“And a lot of those addicts are virtual producers in virtual economies. That means they’re no different than people who worked in the entertainment industry in years gone by. Regardless, if we take away or even significantly reduce the dole, anyone who can’t provide an income on their own will starve to death.”
“All right, then conscript them,” General Russo said. “At least we’ll get something back for carrying them on our backs.”
“That’s not a bad idea, but it will never pass in the senate. We’re a democracy, which means we need to make popular decisions, not expedient ones.”
Durand sighed. “Then what are we discussing, Mr. President? Our hands are tied. Nothing has changed.”
“Actually, that’s not entirely true. I had a proposal from Sakamoto Robotics come across my desk a month or two ago. It was a suggestion for how we could automate the majority of existing crew positions in the fleet and then send those people back to re-train for command positions on new ships.”
“You just said we can’t afford to build a bigger fleet, so what would be the point of that?”
“We can’t afford to build one
2824 A.D.
—Present Day—
“T his is why we never should have cut funding to the fleet,” Admiral Durand, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff said.
Sitting at the head of the table, President Wallace rubbed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “We don’t have funding for the fleet. It’s not a question of what we should have done, but what we could have done, and the answer was the same then as it is now—if we don’t watch our spending we won’t be able to continue making payments on our debt, and the Solarians will come and collect.”
“That’s a moot point if they’re the ones who attacked us,” General Russo of the Marine Corps said.
Wallace shook his head. “I agree, but we’ve got nothing to tie them to the attack.”
“Who else has the resources to do something like this? We know we didn’t attack ourselves,” General Eriksson replied. He was from the air force.
“Do we know that? What about the Humanists?” Durand asked.
Wallace nodded. “It’s possible, but I don’t know what they could stand to gain by destroying Lunar City.”
“What if it really was aliens?” Anderson put in.
Eriksson stifled a laugh. “Admiral Anderson, I fear your association with that disgrace, Becker, may have colored your view. There are no aliens.”
“Really. Over a hundred billion stars in the Milky Way and you’re going to tell me that not one of them apart from ours spawned intelligent life?”
“If one of them did, then why haven’t they made contact with us yet?”
“Maybe that’s what we’re looking at—first contact,” Anderson countered.
Wallace raised his hands to forestall further conjecture. “Gentlemen, we will find out who did this, but right now we need to focus on how we can defend ourselves from another attack. If those missiles had hit Earth, you can multiply the casualties by a hundred.”
“We’re doing our best, sir,” Fleet Admiral Anderson put in, “but we only have two fleets, and both of them are stretched thin as it is trying to cover all of our orbital space. To defend ourselves adequately, we’d need several rings of ships around Earth, all of them scanning for incoming ordnance 24/7. More eyes and more guns.”
“That’s the ideal solution,” Wallace replied, nodding, “but we still need to get the funding for that from somewhere.”
“Get rid of the dole and use the money to build a bigger fleet,” Durand suggested.
“You know we can’t do that,” Wallace replied. “Most people live off the dole because they have no choice. They’re unemployed because there aren’t enough jobs, not because they don’t want one.”
Anderson snorted. “They’re addicts of the Mindscape, sir, so at this point it’s fair to assume both conditions are true.”
“And a lot of those addicts are virtual producers in virtual economies. That means they’re no different than people who worked in the entertainment industry in years gone by. Regardless, if we take away or even significantly reduce the dole, anyone who can’t provide an income on their own will starve to death.”
“All right, then conscript them,” General Russo said. “At least we’ll get something back for carrying them on our backs.”
“That’s not a bad idea, but it will never pass in the senate. We’re a democracy, which means we need to make popular decisions, not expedient ones.”
Durand sighed. “Then what are we discussing, Mr. President? Our hands are tied. Nothing has changed.”
“Actually, that’s not entirely true. I had a proposal from Sakamoto Robotics come across my desk a month or two ago. It was a suggestion for how we could automate the majority of existing crew positions in the fleet and then send those people back to re-train for command positions on new ships.”
“You just said we can’t afford to build a bigger fleet, so what would be the point of that?”
“We can’t afford to build one
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