Excerpt: Consent of the Governed

Gregory’s slow stroll ended at his desk. On its darkly stained, faux-wooden surface sat his flat, metallic data net interface, its screen darkened, as it sat idle. Underneath that, though, were three paper documents, a rarity, outside of April’s binder. The first two Gregory knew well, the government’s charter and the combined oaths of office for common members of Parliament and the Prime Minister. Next to them was a handwritten document, sealed in a thin polyurethane block, like a wayward museum piece.

The document was a transcription of a radio transmission from Earth, one of the last. On this day, like the other occasions he sat down to look at it, Gregory could only read the first two words. The story behind the transmission was simply too tragic. A so-called limited nuclear engagement between three world powers produced a cloud of fallout that rode along the jet-stream, eventually encircling the planet. In eastern Europe and the Middle East, they could only watch the forecasts of the wind currents and hope against all hope that the lethality radius would cease its expansion. When it did not, and when they knew rescue would not be forthcoming, those with transmitters powerful enough would send their goodbyes to anyone who might listen on the growing lunar and Martian colonies. These were not pleas for assistance or the prepared speeches of politicians, but the unbridled emotions of individuals resigned to death. The messages were transcribed by concerned citizens on the moon, in the hopes that the sender could be identified and the message given to the next-of-kin.

Unlike the others, though, this final transmission, carried an eerily positive note to it. While the sender had never been positively identified, widely accepted theory was that he was a Finn, who had served in the final war, before his homeland withdrew from the conflict. He spoke of humanity as a whole behaving as individual humans do. Civilization reached its adolescence on Earth, learning important lessons, of consumption, of decadence, of warfare, all the hard way, despite the warnings of a few prescient individuals. Perhaps, among the stars, humanity would reach adulthood, adopting the foresight of an individual who knows, in hindsight, the consequences of ignoring dire warnings.

Gregory took his leave of the still-empty Parliament chamber, exiting through a small corridor to the left of his desk. With any measure of luck, there would be work waiting in his office to take the edge off of the tale he had recalled.