Man-Kzin Wars XIV (7 page)

“In stable times, the collectivist impulse can lead to mass hysteria, with the preference for believing things not because they are true but because you want to, or because your friends all do. These are not stable times, and believing things just because you want to can easily get you killed in a hostile environment, so there has been a strong selection pressure to be realistic. So the liberal party is not yet as dominated by ideology as it has been in the past, or as it will be again. It’s much more complicated than that, but it contains the essentials. So, there are two groups because human beings drift away from weaker collectives to more powerful ones. Not that two is always the necessary count of parties. Highly individualist cultures often have more, but then the groups themselves form coalitions. And fracture when the conflicting memes become too painfully apparent. People tend to vote as their parents do, sometimes seeing it as a matter of tribal loyalties rather than self-interest. There are other dimensions than the collectivism-individualism one of course, but that axis is important.

“Generally, in our culture, conservatives want justice and liberals want mercy. Conservatives expect to live with risk, liberals want security. Conservatives see the society as a delicate organism, to be altered with care. Liberals see it as a machine to be rejigged at will. Conservatives seek to minimize the size of the State, yet, because they are inclined to a more realistic view of life, they are more likely than liberals to see threats, so they are more inclined to large military expenditure and all the State intrusiveness that goes with it. These are, broadly, the things liberals and conservatives want. Obviously, everybody wants all of them, but when they conflict as they usually do, this is the way people tend to split. I don’t pretend to understand it in any detail, it is a specialist subject. But parties can change, and do. I suppose I can tell you that during the war on Earth, before Dimity arrived with the hyperdrive, there were conservatives who seriously wanted to make peace—not in spite of the fact we were losing, mind you, but because of it. Every defeat and disaster led, as time went on, to more and more cries, growing louder and louder, to stop the space-war. They even had a slogan, ‘Come home, Earth,’ until Vrissriv-Admiral’s raid broke through the planetary defenses, levelled cities and spaceports and seized a couple of thousand slaves. Templemount had just taken over then. A pacifist delegation went to see him after that. He evidently decided that it was necessary to show he meant business and publically executed the lot of them. Of course, the fact that there was a kzin radio transceiver found in their party headquarters didn’t exactly help their case.”

“That sounds very odd thinking,” Vaemar objected. “Defeat is no reason to surrender. Not before all is plainly lost. And not even then, unless it is necessary to preserve the species. We surrendered only because the alternative was annihilation, and Hroth, who was the senior surviving officer, ordered us to. It seems utterly perverted otherwise. Had these people not read even your own ‘
Battle of Maldon
’?”

“No, not then. Senechel was out of his depth. He did his best, and we owe him for what preparation there was, but he couldn’t think in the appropriate way after centuries of ARM-enforced pacifism. Considering the conditioning he labored under, he did heroically. Finally Templemount took over. That fat old man, who had been in every party and who none of the political class trusted. He roused Earth and the Belt to fight to the bitter end. He sent out counterattacks to catch the kzin fleets while they were still outfitting. He even sent an expedition to find your homeworld. It was armed with
The Sabbath Goat
.”

“What was that? I don’t know of it.”

“Believe me, it is better you don’t. Anyway, they were never heard of again. Perhaps one of your patrols got them.

“Anyway, without Templemount we would have surrendered before the hyperdrive arrived. And those were conservatives who wanted it, more than the liberals, which tells you that parties can change, sometimes very quickly if there is a leader of principle like Templemount.”

“Kzin politics seems much simpler,” Vaemar remarked. “It’s largely a matter of fighting to get to be in charge of the whole system. We don’t have anything like political parties. I suppose we have clan loyalties, but there are lots of clans. They form alliances, but break them whenever it is convenient. Formal notice should be given in such cases. Perhaps in the Patriarch’s palace things are a little different.”

Vaemar tried to find common patterns between kzin and human culture, and decided he needed to study kzin history as well as human history. “Alright, shelve that for the present, as you human beings say. What exactly is a
policy
? Parties seem to have lots of them.”

“If you are going to keep a party together, everyone has to agree on some things that are important and need doing. Once they’ve agreed, it gets written down and is called a ‘policy.
’”

“What if you don’t agree?”

“Well, you have to vote in the approved way in the house, or the party may expel you. But you get a chance to determine what the collective policy will be when it’s being debated in the party room. At least, that’s how the conservatives do it.”

“What do the liberals do?”

“They have a smaller group called a ‘caucus’, which decides what the policies will be. They used to have it open to every member of the party, not just politicians, but it was too unwieldy. Or maybe sometimes the party voted for things the leaders didn’t want. There are all sorts of ways of getting your ideas imposed on other people. It’s much easier to do this in a party of collectivists, where social disapproval is a serious threat. In a party of individualists you need compelling arguments. Sometimes, historically, both parties are very collectivist or hierarchical or both, and the individualists in the world at large get practically no say in what is decided. It’s not quite that bad at present, but it could get that way.”

“I don’t think I’m a very collectivist being,” Vaemar said slowly.

“Well, at least you’ll be in the right party. You wouldn’t last long in the liberal party,” the abbot pointed out.

“This business of having to vote for something I might disagree with. What if someone asks me if I agree with a policy that I didn’t vote for, and thought was wrong but was outvoted on? I shall just have to say that the rules are that I have to, and I follow the rules. And then they would ask why do I follow such stupid rules, and I can’t think of any good answer,” Vaemar complained.

“Happens all the time. The good answer is that if you want to get anything right done, you have to have a party, and that means you will sometimes have to put up with something stupid being done. I must admit that when politicians are asked a question like that, they usually answer a totally different question and hope nobody will notice.”

“Does it work?”

“Not very often, except with the stupid.”

“I’m glad, because I don’t think I could do that. I should just answer the question truthfully.”

The abbot’s shoulders heaved as he manfully suppressed a laugh. “That would surprise everyone. And a good thing it would be, too.”

“This interview committee I am seeing tomorrow. Are there right answers and wrong answers to the questions they will ask me? Is it like a mathematics
viva voce
? Or is it quite different? What are they trying to find out?”

“Different committee members will have different concerns. Some will want to be reassured that you aren’t going to rip apart any member of the government who you happen to disagree with. Not that they’d mind if you did for themselves, but it would look bad. Others will want to be confident that you will toe the party line and not argue back. You won’t keep those people happy whatever you say, so don’t bother about them. Just be yourself and tell the truth as you always do; let them work out the probable consequences. I shall be on the committee, and they know you are my preferred candidate. I shan’t be able to vote, of course, but I can present some arguments. I’m quite looking forward to it. I don’t say you’ll get the approval of a majority, but at least you won’t be dull. Some of them will prefer dull, but there are some sensible people there who will see you as an opportunity.”

Vaemar looked doleful. He had never much enjoyed examinations, but at least in mathematics, you knew where you were. And even in history, which was a bit trickier, if your facts were right and your arguments solid, you survived.

The villagers now had horses, and ploughing was a lot easier. Ruat watched them ride about in disbelief. The horses no longer panicked when he was upwind of them. He wondered if somewhere there was an animal
he
could ride. It would have to be a lot bigger than a horse, and he had never seen anything that might do, but the country was big, and who knew? He had never seen horses before the villagers had bought some with his gold. Not that it was his gold any longer, of course; he had traded it for other things. Medicine, and help in building . . . a . . .
home
. That was the word. Owning things was not an unfamiliar concept in principle, kzin nobles and officers owned things. Names, and slaves, and homes. But for a low-grade kzin, it hardly ever made sense to own anything. But, Ruat reflected, now
he
did own things. Maybe that made him some sort of noble. It was a strange idea, but not without attraction.

Ruat paced along outside the stockade. He was on patrol. A silver five-pointed star hung from a silver chain around his neck. He even knew what the words embossed on the star meant. Sheriff. He could pronounce that word now, quite clearly. The judge was the Law East of the Ranges, and Ruat enforced the judge’s law. That’s what sheriffs did. Because his honor required it, he was going to do it well.

Of course, it was pretty easy.

“Tell me, Lord Vaemar, why exactly do you want to join the conservative party, and why in particular do you want to stand for the Grossgeister District?” The questioner was the chairman, actually a woman, with a thin, worried look and wispy hair, wearing a hat that looked like roadkill. She looked up at Vaemar nervously.

Vaemar responded promptly: “I want to join the conservative party because I want to conserve something, the Grossgeister Swamp. And I have long associations with the area, I know some of the people here, humans and kzin. They are fine people and I like nearly all of them. One of them, the old man known as Marshy, saved my life and my mate’s life, as well as that of my . . . colleague . . . Swirl-Stripes and other humans. I have helped explore the swamp, and am well aware of the vast variety of life-forms there, many rare and . . .” it was a strange, difficult word to pronounce . . . “beautiful. Never will I forget watching the creatures of the swamp passing through the water by Marshy’s window—the procession of bright creatures passing was one of the wonders of this world—or the bioluminescent life-forms at night. Further, there are the dolphins, your allies. And our sentient brothers, at least. For them it is hunting ground and nursery. There are land-dwelling animals on the bigger islands, and stretches of blue water. Future generations will thank us for preserving it.”

“Didn’t the kzin burn the heart out of it during the war?” someone asked.

“Assessing the damage was one of the purposes of my expedition,” Vaemar replied. “Although other events overtook us, I am happy to report that it appears to be recovering rapidly. I believe in a few years no trace of damage will remain, if it is simply left untouched. And the expedition team I went on was good training for me in leading a mixed human-kzin team successfully.”

“And you brought out specimens of value,” piped up one old fellow, evidently trying to be helpful.

“Yes. Among other things, the only surviving specimens we know of unattached Jotok on this planet. They are being reared at the monastery.” He had also brought out Karan, but she was not the business of these men.

“There are many other swamps,” said someone. It was true. Frequent meteor strikes had left much of Wunderland’s coast riddled with circular holes like a Swiss cheese. Nonetheless, Vaemar’s words seemed to have moved the meeting. Further, they had forgotten the dolphins, and many felt guilty of their forgetfulness at Vaemar’s reminder.

Vaemar could feel a current running against the interjector. It was not merely a subjective impression. Like all male kzin, he had a rudimentary ability to detect emotions, which with the telepaths was developed into a complete sense. Like most kzin he had felt rather embarrassed by this, precisely because of its connection with the despised telepath caste. Suddenly he realized what a useful political asset it might be.

“We kzin,” he continued, “have at times destroyed species in our wars, but never willingly or wantonly. Even when the Chunquen fired missiles at us from their submerged sea-ships, we only boiled part of their seas.”

“Very nice of you,” someone muttered. Vaemar looked at the interjector, who seemed to suddenly shrink under his gaze. Vaemar was big, even for a kzin.

“But why should a kzin want to go into politics at all?” a heavily built man with a ginger beard sat next to the woman and scowled as he asked his question. The panel were seated around a table, and Vaemar stood before it, looming over them. When he had come into the room, the chairman had invited him to sit in the solitary chair facing the table, and then stopped in embarrassment. Kzin didn’t normally use chairs, and few human chairs would have survived, this one clearly would not. Then he had been asked if he would care to lie down on the carpet, and had politely declined. Nobody argued the point.

“My species is sharing this world with yours. We have the vote, although I do not know of a kzin who has used it. So far we have been somewhat dismissive of the political process, but that must change in time. I am the first to consider standing for public office, but I will not be the last. When the kzin see that they have some measure of control over their own future by reasoned debate, they will start taking an interest. It is not in our traditions, this democracy. But not all human beings have been used to it either. Perhaps it is similar to the way in which Japan on your homeworld came to accept and even embrace what must have seemed a very alien way of doing things.”