The ethos effect, p.30
The Ethos Effect, page 30
Van watched and listened for the next hour as Trystin Desoll dissected thirty years of success with Aergis Industries. His head was aching when the older man powered down the holo display.
“Do you have a better idea now?” asked Desoll.
“I’m getting it,” Van replied cautiously. “I’m still not sure where I fit it. I can understand how all this works, but I certainly couldn’t create a plan like the one you showed me. I could monitor it, and make sure it got implemented ... but surely you have others who could do that.”
“What’s the biggest barrier to effective organization of a multisystem organization?”
“Time and distance.”
“And the inability of those running it to understand the individual dynamics involved in how organizations need to adapt to different cultures.” Desoll added. “What I do, and what you’re going to learn to do, is to provide coordination, control, understanding, direction—and glue.”
“Glue?”
“There are two kinds of organizations—those held together by bureaucratic systems and traditions, and those held together by a shared vision. The first are extremely good at surviving, but seldom accomplish much more. The second can change a planet or a corner of the Galaxy, but only so long as the vision remains shared and vital—and that requires people at the top who embody that vision. You have that potential. You’ve been given second-rate crews and ships for years—and yet outperformed those considered first-rate.” Desoll pointed to the sheets of paper on the corner of the desk. “You’ve also got a first-rate mind, and vision—”
“They barely passed that thesis,” Van protested.
“That was their problem. I had it submitted to the University of Cambria, anonymously. I asked for an objective opinion from various thesis committees. Half wanted to fail it. The other half claimed it was brilliant. For the record, I agree with the latter.”
“Why do you need me?” That was really the bottom-line question. “Or were you trying to get a pilot and do a rescue job at the same time?”
Trystin’s face tightened, the first hint of anger Van had seen. “I can’t afford rescues.” His voice was cold.
Van thought he could almost hear, One was enough. “I’m sorry. I just find it hard to believe—”
“Believe it. Ambitious, intelligent, and ethical commanders who can manage are almost impossible to find these days. I’m not doing you any favors. By the time two years have passed, you’ll have earned every credit.” Desoll’s face cleared. “IIS has gotten too big for one director to handle it all, because it requires someone whose ethics have been so deeply instilled that they’re instinctual, not merely easy rules of behavior, and because IIS needs to continue to project an image of power.”
Van still was doubtful.
“And because I don’t have time to do everything that needs to be done, including some work on a new power transmission technology project that’s taking far more effort than I’d ever thought. I can’t do that, which is vital for our future, and the future of the Arm, and still continue to present an image of presence and power. I need you to help with that.”
Why an image of power?
Van must have subvocalized that, he realized, as Desoll nodded.
“That is the question, isn’t it? I’ll give you part of the answer. Actually, I’ve already given you part—that was what we did off Behai.”
“To keep the peace?”
Desoll shook his head. “No. No one can ever keep the peace, not among humans, no matter what the Farhkans believe. To keep the bureaucracies honest, because bureaucracies are only interested in self-perpetuation, and the best of ideals are the first casualty of expediency. Organizations that go beyond survival are both the economic and pragmatic hope for the future. By offering alternatives to the established powers—as we did with Aergis—we make a goodly profit while keeping societies more open and flexible. By doing the occasional dirty job off a Behai, we also help keep greater economic and cultural diversity in the Arm—and make money doing it. What we do is far from easy, and learning all you’ll need to know won’t be easy, either. You’ll have to learn the general outline of the human model and the details of every major project in your sector— that’s about half of the IIS projects. I’ll keep the other half. But you’ll have time, because you’ll pick them up one by one over the next few years.”
Van wondered if he’d ever learn half as much as Desoll already knew, but the man did say he had a few years. Van would need them. Of that, he was certain. He was also more certain, even if he had risked Desoll’s anger, that the man had a definite need for him that went beyond what had been explained. He just wished he knew what it might be.
Chapter 49
On threeday, a week and two days after Van had arrived in Cambria, the Elsin approached the Aerolis complex—built within and around a nickel-iron asteroid in the outer belt of the Perdyan system.
Aerolis prime, Coalition ship Elsin, requesting clearance and docking instructions.
Elsin, welcome to A-prime, cleared to beacon.
Understand cleared to beacon this time.
Desoll used delicate puffs on the thrusters to ease the Elsin toward the beacon, set on a spindly tower rising from the asteroid. Van scanned the net and monitors to study the ship that was locked to a second tower, the ship that was to be his to command. The fusactors were down, because there were no EDI emissions, but even without an energy corona Van could tell that the other ship was powerful, just from the design, and from the size. Desoll’s docking was smooth, as if he’d docked to asteroid towers so often it was second nature.
A-Prime, Elsin locked and powered down to station-keeping.
Thanks, Elsin. Jynko’s at your lock. Stet.
Desoll slipped from the command couch, looking aft toward Eri and Alya, the other tech who had appeared with Eri when she had joined them at Perdya orbit station two. “We’ll be doing the inspection. Don’t know how long it will take.”
Eri just nodded. So did Alya.
Both Van and Desoll wore space armor, but carried their helmets. They were met just outside the Elsin’s lock by an angular Belter wearing a vacsuit, with its collapsible helmet clipped to his equipment belt “Director Desoll. Said it would be you.”
“Who else?” Desoll gestured to Van. “This is Commander Albert It will be his ship.”
“Mason Jynko, Commander.” The angular Belter nodded. “You two ready for the inspection?”
“We’re ready.”
“Have to use the main lock at the base of tower two.” Jynko turned and hand-over-handed his way down the tower corridor.
Van and Desoll followed.
The exterior inspection was, in a sense, perfunctory, although the three inspected the elongated spheroid carefully, using suit lamps and a handscanner that Desoll had produced. All the exterior inspection proved was that everything was there.
Then they returned to the lower main lock, took off their helmets, and went up the tower and into the ship. Once inside, they began with the mech spaces. Van noted that Desoll paid particular attention to the accumulators and the supercon lines linking the fusactors to the accumulators and the jumpshift generators. The lower interior was spotless.
The living spaces were on the same pattern as those of the Elsin, with two crew cabins, and two spare cabins—except that the wooden veneer in the commander’s spacious cabin was a light blond wood, and all the trim was an off-white, making the new ship even lighter in feel than the Elsin. That was something that Van appreciated greatly.
Finally, and last, they entered the cockpit “Now... the board’s the way you specified... minimum of manual controls, and we installed the link systems you provided, according to the specs. Your other director’s been out here more’n a few times, checking on things. Signed off on the shipnet”
“Yes, Nynca’s very good on detail,” Desoll said with a smile.
Van settled into the command couch and began the powering-up, using the full maintenance checklist taking his time, and going over every single item, checking all the links, all the routines and subroutines. All the links were clear, clearer than he had felt in any other ship.
All in all, it took almost two hours. Neither Desoll nor Jynko said a word, although Desoll clearly followed Van through everything.
Finally, Van looked across the cockpit. “Maintenance check complete. Everything checks.”
“What do you think?” Desoll smiled.
Van could only shake his head. “She’s ... beautiful. She’s more than that...”
A faint grin appeared on Jynko’s face.
“What are you going to name her?” asked Desoll. “We’ll need to know.”
Van had thought about it He’d thought about naming it after his sister, but that wouldn’t have been quite right He’d finally decided. “Joyau. It’s an ancient word for ‘jewel.’ I think that fits.”
Desoll nodded. “Short and appropriate. I’ve always disliked commercial ships with names like Starflight Hope or Princess Regina ... You understand what I mean?”
Van did.
“We’ll put Joyau on the acceptance form, then,” Jynko said.
“After Commander Albert completes the power trials out-system,” Desoll added.
“Of course. Only one jump and back.” Jynko rose. “You going, Director Desoll.”
“I’ll ride second seat, and we’ll call over one of the techs.”
“Fine.” Jynko nodded. “I’ll have everything ready when you return.” He grinned. “Don’t be too long.”
Once Jynko left, Desoll looked to Van. “Your tech.”
“You have one in mind?” Van lifted his eyebrows.
“Would you mind if I assigned Eri as your tech, at least for a time?”
That surprised Van, although he hadn’t seen any overt affection between the two. “No ... if that’s all right with you.”
Desoll laughed. “Eri’s been a friend, never more than that, and she’s already raised one family. She’s told me that she’s not about to raise another, or train another husband. She will consent to training another commander.”
This time Van laughed. “I trust I’m trainable.”
“She thinks so. So do I.”
“I’m sure she knows things that I don’t.”
“She should, and that’s the idea.”
Van was sure of that.
As Desoll linked to call Eri, Van ran through the links again. For a time, he’d thought he’d never have another ship, and to have one like the Joyau—that was even more unbelievable.
DIRECTOR
Chapter 50
Van triggered the lock closed behind him as he stepped into the Joyau, docked at C-two of Winokur orbit control.
Eri appeared before Van got another step farther toward either the galley or his stateroom.
“Were you successful?”
“They agreed, and the retainer is in the local branch of Cambrian Holdings. It’s not that much.” Van shrugged. “Winokur isn’t that well-off, but the planetary assembly had delegated authority to the bonding agency. They really want to strengthen local multis. If... if Krecor follows the plan, and if Bonifils and Chabre can keep their management on track, it ought to work.” Van eased into the galley, where he turned on the cafémaker.
Eri followed, clearly wanting more details.
Van didn’t blame her, since she’d been sitting the ship. “I promised the first set of formulator templates within a week of deposit. That we can do. Those are the ones we brought. They get the second set in two months, and I’ll have to torp that request off to IIS Cambria. We’ll have to pick those up somewhere—either meet Trystin or make a long jump to Perdya—in six weeks. But we’ll need to swing back by here about then anyway to see what Trans-Win Microtronics is up to...” He poured himself a mug of café. “Seems like every Rev front multi is Trans something or other.” Eri nodded politely.
Van grinned. “There’s a down-shuttle to Wypres in an hour. I’ve got to catch up on some things. You want a day to look around, and whatever?”
“I could do that.”
“Would you like to?” Van countered.
“Would you like me to?” Eri replied politely.
Van sighed. “Go! I’ll see you tomorrow, no later than sixteen hundred ship time.”
“Yes, ser, Commander.” Eri spoiled the subservient words with an impish smile, before she slipped toward her cabin.
Van still didn’t quite understand how a woman ten years older than he was could look impish, but there were many things he still didn’t understand, even after working with Eri for more than two years, and that wasn’t one he was going to attempt.
He took the café and the small case he’d carried down to Wypres and back up, slightly lighter, into his stateroom, sliding the case behind a restrainer in the top bookshelf. Then he pulsed on the holo display, requesting the latest news update from the orbit control net.
After another sip of café, Van settled into the chair and looked at the first lines of the news summaries holo-stacked in the air above the flat surface before his stateroom console, representing page after page from the IIS office in Cambria. He still had to read the analyses that had come with them on the message torp. Even after passing two years in command of the Joyau, he was at times astounded at the volume and accuracy of the information that poured into the ship.
He glanced across the lead lines projected up in front of him, then scanned them quickly.
Keshmaran assembly accepts Coalition basing plan ... Revenant Quorum denies planned annexation of Kushite border system...
Eco-Tech Service accepts three new battle cruisers ... Keltyr executive claims missing cruiser destroyed by Revenant battle group...
Argenti Montaje debates out-system base expansion...
For the past several years, slowly, almost inexorably, the news had gotten worse and worse, although IIS business had improved. But then, it could be that it had improved because other matters were degenerating.
From the number of times Trystin had been summoned before some Coalition commission, board, committee, or government official, it was clear enough to Van that IIS wasn’t a Coalition black operation. At the same time, Van had the definite feeling that the Coalition wasn’t so much concerned about what IIS was doing as worried about not knowing.
Van took another sip of the already-too-cool café.
The reason behind that Coalition attitude seemed to be exactly what Trystin had said a year earlier. While the Eco-Techs worried about Rev expansion, they’d do almost anything to avoid another war with the Revs, including turning a blind eye on IIS activities, provided they enhanced or did not harm the Coalition.
The Revs also didn’t want an all-out armed conflict, but they didn’t seem averse to using any and all kinds of force and persuasion against anyone except the Coalition and the Argentis—and it was working. Still... there was little enough IIS could do, except offer its services to strengthen local multilaterals against outside onslaught. In attempting that there were always problems, more than he’d had a chance to look into. He took another sip of café and called up the message that had been forwarded from the IIS office in Cambria—just text, because full video and audio were still expensive over interstellar distances. He smiled as he read.
... enjoyed your last message. While many of our acquaintances find it hard to believe that you are senior director of an influential foundation and commander of a private interstellar ship, I cannot say that you do not deserve it, for you more than most have earned what you have gained. Nonetheless, because of your heritage, there will always be questions about ability, especially now in the Republic, and you must always comport yourself with dignity and caution.
Dad Cicero was as much as saying that matters were also continuing to degenerate in Bannon and on Tara, and that, if he did come home, he needed to watch his back and then some. The fact that Cicero had not mentioned that after the abortive RSF peacekeeping ploy also bothered Van, because that meant things were not at all good.
Sappho and Aelsya have discussed following your example, but, until that can be resolved, for the moment have decided to devote themselves to their work and children. Lesnym and Farah are indeed bright girls—and a joy to their grandfathers. Arturo continues in his pursuit of the law along the ancient traditions that have been making a resurgence in Sulyn and throughout the Republic, but he has been a great support to this aging advocate and a true son of Sulyn...
Van winced. What Cicero was saying was that Arturo couldn’t—or wouldn’t—see what was happening and was accepting or even buying into it.
Margaret remains as sensitive as always, but is supportive of Arturo and Despina in all they do. Despina has become a truly beautiful young woman, and shares Almaviva’s love of music. Her voice is developing well, and he says she is naturally unforced and open...
After Van read the missive—twice—he leaned back and closed his eyes, thinking about Bannon and the new Revenant temple there, and the growth of converts to the Christos Revivos, and he wondered what would happen next.
Finally, he pulled up his analyses and the scheduling requests that had come with the latest message torp. The newly opened IIS office on Korvel had requested a visit by a director—for advice—and Trystin had passed that on to Van, since Korvel system was a much shorter jump from Winokur than from wherever Trystin was—he hadn’t said, as he usually didn’t, only that he was working on the power transmission technology project.
The IIS planetary director on Islyn had requested a director to help him interview and select his potential replacement. Van checked the files. Camryn Rezi—the IIS PD on Islyn—was only sixty. Islyn was an affiliate Hyndji system, meaning that Islyn was independent but tied to the Hyndji financial and trade structure and procured its space defense vessels and support equipment from the same sources as did the Hyndji Defense Force.
