The Octagonal Raven (33 page)
Excellence is the manifestation of superiority in some form of endeavor, and, by definition, there are far fewer creations or endeavors that are superior than there are those which are merely competent or less than competent….
Each individual values self more than others, except perhaps parents who behold their children. Yet in revering their children, they seek another form of self-affirmation. Even those who adopt nationalistic or patriotic ideals and offer their lives for the culture are seeking self-affirmation through a greater “good.”…
The presence of excellence reminds the majority of humans that they are not superior. If that demonstration of excellence is great enough, it can be humbling, and humans dislike being humbled. Excellence is therefore established by some form of elite, initially by those who can create it, then hailed by those who can recognize it, and finally used as a tool by those who can do neither.
Excellence is generally ignored by the majority of any society, except when it can be used for other ends. Great poetry is seldom read, because there are few such uses for it, while the excellently simple design of the paper clip dominated paper-pushing cultures for more than a century, its inventor immediately forgotten. Great drama was written or revived only when it could be used to part human beings from a portion of their wealth. Great works of physical art [paintings, sculpture] have been historically the most valuable after the death of their creators, when their excellence could be separated from the superiority of their creators.
Excellence and popularity are seldom manifested in the same work, because popularity derives from the ability of humans to identify with the endeavor or the creator, and few identify comfortably with genius….
The “dead white male” syndrome of the late Noram Commonacracy was highly instrumental in creating the decline of excellence which, in turn, exaggerated the effect of the Collapse. What was conveniently overlooked by the revolutionaries, never accepted by the masses, and never confronted effectively by the declining pre-Collapse establishment was one simple corollary to excellence. It takes training, education, discipline, and intelligence to create and/or recognize excellence. In general, most of the individuals in any society capable in practical terms of creating excellence must come from the privileged or near-privileged strata of society. There are exceptions, often distinguished and notable ones, but statistically, they are insignificant. This has meant that, for most of history, most endeavors of artistic excellence were created, funded, and supported by white males. In those few places and cultures where equal or near equal resources went to others, others also created works of excellence. Resource allocation was the key, but the revolutionaries of the pre-Collapse cleverly established the position that excellence was merely a code for values supporting the white male status quo, rather than a reflection of the allocation of resources necessary for the creation of excellence.
By debunking the entire concept of excellence as status quo propaganda, and by insisting that all artistic values and creations were equal, and that true beauty did not exist, but was only an ephemeral phantom in the mind of each beholder, or a tool of the white male elite, the revolutionaries undermined the very basis of excellence…and thus contributed to the Collapse, and, in the end, to their own demise, because once they had destroyed the concept of objective and not theologically-based values and excellence, they also destroyed the social restraints that had shackled the commercial and political elites, to the point that the only value was power….
“Musings on Excellence”
Exton Land
[included in
Personal Notes
]
Kewood
Majora sat beside me in the glider on the trip from Helnya to the UniComm glider park. The subtle scent of flowers, not too sweet, not overpowering, but somehow appropriate to her—made me realize just how long it had been that anyone I’d cared about had been in the glider.
“It looks and feels like a normal glider,” she said as we walked toward the gray stone steps.
“It is a normal glider. It just has a few additions.”
“A few? Is that how you brought it over the trees at my house?” Her thick eyebrows lifted.
“It does have additional fuel cells, double the number of solar cells, flitter gyros, and delimiter cutouts.”
“So it’s really a flitter posing as a glider? Like you’re an orca posing as a porpoise? A generally friendly orca, but…”
“I think of myself more like a raven, actually, having to deal with eagles.”
She laughed. “How about a black eagle?”
“Large raven…if I’m lucky.”
We moved through the three-meter-high black marble arch to the security station, where the guard in the green-trimmed gray of UniComm Security waited.
“Daryn Alwyn. I have a meeting with Brin Drejcha.”
“Yes, ser. He’s expecting you.” The guard looked at Majora.
“This is Majora Hyriss. She’s my special assistant.” I smiled pleasantly.
“Director Drejcha did not mention any others.”
“You can contact him, but I am most certain my special assistant will be welcome.”
“One moment, ser.” The guard retreated behind a transparent nanite sound-screen. I watched his lips.
“…special assistant…Hyriss…woman…ser…”
There was a pause.
“Yes, ser.”
The screen came down. “If you would both step through the scanner…ser, lady.”
I let Majora go through first, then followed. Drejcha’s office was up the ramp to the left, on the same side of the courtyard garden as Gerrat’s was, and past the orchid gardens.
“This is rather impressive, and almost all hidden away,” Majora murmured.
“Father never believed in visible ostentation. We weren’t allowed magscooters, and when we learned to play tennis, it was at the local club.”
Majora laughed. “Showing you and Gerrat off was a form of ostentation.”
I frowned, but only for a moment. She was right, although I’d never thought of it in quite that way. “Maybe he didn’t believe in tasteless ostentation.” Except that wasn’t it, either.
We passed one of the windows overlooking the inner courtyard, and, for a moment, I caught sight of our reflections—two tall muscular figures, me in dark blue with a short gray vest, and Majora in maroon and gray.
A young man in security gray also waited outside Drejcha’s office. “Ser…he is expecting you.” He opened the door for us.
Drejcha’s office, nearly as large as Gerrat’s, was furnished in the same style as Father’s, with a simple cherry desk, a round conference table with cherry armchairs upholstered in green, and one four-shelf cherry bookcase, filled with leatherbound volumes I would have bet that the man had never read.
Drejcha was standing as we entered.
“It’s good to see you, Daryn, and good to learn that you are well.” Brin Drejcha bowed slightly more than perfunctorily. He was slightly round-faced, perhaps five centimeters shorter than I, and slightly shorter than Majora. For some reason, that gratified me. He had smooth black hair, piercing blue eyes, and a warm professional smile of the type Gerrat had perfected and which I distrusted instantly.
“It’s good to see you.”
Majora closed the door behind us.
Drejcha gestured to the circular conference table, around which were four chairs. Majora and I took the chairs with the view of the door.
“You suggested that we should talk,” I began.
“Ah…as you know…UniComm finds itself in a rather difficult position…losing the director general and the senior director….”
“It certainly was unexpected,” I said slowly. “And very upsetting. But UniComm was most important to Father, and he anticipated that it would always be directed by one of the family.” I looked directly at the managing director.
Drejcha didn’t quite meet my eyes. “I’ve talked to several of the board members, and they have expressed some concern that anyone not familiar with the existing situation might find matters rather…challenging….”
“I would agree wholeheartedly,” I replied evenly.
“I had thought…” He paused, almost as if realizing that what I had said was somehow not what he had expected. “Perhaps I should ask if you would clarify what you mean.”
“It’s relatively simple, I should think. UniComm has been losing market share in the neighborhood of one percent per year for the last decade. The decline has been almost unnoticed, except when viewed over a longer perspective. The drop-off is actually greater than that, in practical terms, because AllNews has actually increased marketshare by about five percent, and with the weight behind its exposure…” I smiled, coldly. “OneCys has totally revamped its programming, and has analyzed in great detail the weaknesses of every high-revenue UniComm slot. The changes have not had that great an impact…yet…but UniComm has done very little to address the OneCys changes. Probably more important, the fringe networks have also picked up on those changes, and UniComm is losing share on the edges, with the porndraggies and the high-end dramas.” I looked at Drejcha. “Do you want me to go on? If you’d like, I can give you the OneCys analyses of every segment.” I smiled. “After all, I’m the one who did them.”
Drejcha glanced from me to Majora. Her eyes were colder than mine. He looked back at me. “I see. I appear to have misunderstood. Indeed, you are an Alwyn. But…you still have no status within the organization.”
I shrugged. “As I see it, there are two ways this can play out. You and I can work together, and you can appoint me acting director general until the special stakeholders’ meeting, when a motion will be put forth to install me as director general…or you can insist on running UniComm without me…until the meeting. I think you understand the implications of either scenario.”
A rueful smile crossed Drejcha’s face.
I didn’t trust it any more than I’d trusted the warm and welcoming one.
“I see a great resemblance to your father. When would you like to begin as acting director general?”
“Now’s as good a time as any.” I nodded at Majora. “Majora is the only staff person I’ll be bringing with me. She’ll be acting as my special assistant. She is a
very
good analyst and communicator.”
“What sort of announcement did you plan, Director Drejcha?” Majora asked quietly.
“Oh…I suppose we should make an announcement.”
“Just within UniComm, I would suggest, for now,” she said politely. “And offices…?”
“For now, I’ll use Father’s,” I said. “I’d like one for Majora that’s close to his, but don’t move anyone or talk to them until we discuss the possibilities.”
Drejcha nodded politely, his politeness covering anger…or apprehension.
“And you’ll ensure we’re both in the databases with full access.” I didn’t word that as a question.
“Of course. As soon as we’re finished.” Drejcha offered his winning smile.
“Why don’t we walk over to Father’s office?” I suggested.
The managing director nodded, but let me lead the way along the cross corridor.
“We’ll need to reset the access and security codes for you, Director Alwyn,” Drejcha said as we neared the unmarked closed door. Father hadn’t believed in titles on doors. He’d always felt that if you needed to be identified, you didn’t belong in UniComm.
Maybe that was why Gerrat had adopted his fancy mist-desk, as a way of identification.
Drejcha touched the access plate, and the security door irised into its recesses. I opened the plain wooden door behind it and stepped inside. Father’s office hadn’t changed since the last time I’d been in it, and the only difference was a short stack of papers on the corner of the polished cherry wood desk.
“You see…just as he left it,” offered Drejcha.
I had doubts about that, but merely nodded. “It’s very much the way he kept it. Not much clutter.”
I picked up the heavy vellum card from the cherry wood desk. Although the card looked like vellum, its surface was slightly sticky, and my fingers left the faintest set of prints. I read the wording.
E
LDYN
E. N
YHAL
IS PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE
THE FORMATION OF
O
CTAGONAL
S
OLUTIONS
,
A NEW APPROACH
FOR A NEW FUTURE
.
There was an address and a call code below.
I studied the card for a moment, noting several other sets of fingerprints on the surface of the card. Then, the reason for the stickiness hit me, and I swallowed, forcing myself to set the card on the polished wood, as if I had lost interest. Majora’s eyes flicked to the card, then to me, then away.
She understood what I was doing—or was refraining from doing—and said nothing.
Drejcha just stood there.
“Brin…why don’t you get someone to take care of the details of access and security, and all that, and then rejoin us here. While I know the technical side fairly well, I don’t know all the people, and I’m sure you know all the key people well enough to brief us on them.” I offered a smile at least as false as all those he’d been giving us.
“I can do that, Director Alwyn.”
“We’ll be waiting for you.”
Once Drejcha had left, I walked back to the desk where I noted the codes on Eldyn’s traitorous card and tapped them out, using the bypass and my own personal codes and charges, since I was certain it would be a while before Drejcha got around to getting all the authorizations set up.
Instead of a sim appearing on the holo image that appeared in midair before the cherry bookcase nearest the desk, there was merely a notice, set in red against a beige background.
As a result of recent developments, the programs and assets of Octagonal Solutions have been transferred to the EDA Trust.
I swallowed. While I’d known from the EDA portfolio that Eldyn had operated Octagonal Solutions, I certainly hadn’t anticipated inheriting the operation, even indirectly.
My eyes went to Majora. “I didn’t know.”
“That’s obvious from the stunned look.” She touched my hand. “You’re going to be very busy.”
I’d never followed up on the EDA Trust as much as I should have, either, except to ensure I controlled the Trust, but it appeared, from what little I’d researched about Eldyn, that the trust was going to play a far bigger role than I had ever thought.
Then…everything was looking bigger than I’d ever thought.
