Friday, August 19, 2016

My Europa: Part 4

4

There was music, but it wasn’t so loud you couldn’t hear.  There was a cover band, The DC Insiders, doing a stripped down version of Miley’s Wrecking Crew’s big hit from 2023, Bad Waters Rising.  Hard to believe the bad girl from the ‘teens became such a folk ballad sensation in the twenties.  And the music was further muted by the fact that their little gathering was taking place in a side room, one especially designed for Congressional representatives and staffers to have more private conversations.
The waitress, a young Latino woman with a bright smile and just as bright red hair, dipped in to their room.  “More drinks, anyone?”  Gerald Jefferson ordered a fresh The Citizen, and everyone else held steady.  “I’ll getcha some fresh Kale Chippers, and ya just lemme know when you’re ready for some food.  Gotta a fresh shipment of Chesapeake Bay Oysters, if any of ya want to take advantage of that.”
That was rare.  They were coming back but had almost become extinct.  “Oh, my stars!” gushed Louise Pinkyard.  “It’s been a coon’s age since I could slide those down my throat!  How much are they?”  Gerald winced a little when she said that, but he knew in her head she was thinking of a raccoon, and was probably completely ignorant of the phrases more archaic meaning.
The waitress gleefully answered, “Just $50 for six, only $90 for a dozen!”
Louise blanched.  “I’ll pass.”  That was steep, even on a Congressional salary.  The pay had gone up little in the last decade, since the Congressional Pay Act of 2025 had reset wages to no more than five times the minimum wage. They did have a housing allowance, that varied slightly depending how far away your district was, but it didn’t leave you swimming in it.  Top that off with strict limits on post-career lobbying opportunities, and a pension that was only 5% of base pay per term (with term limits of 5 terms, that left a maximum pension of 25% of your last congressional salary).  The days of getting rich by being a Congressman were definitely over, at least fir it coming from the public till, or by influence peddling.  Maybe when her Congressional terms were over she could go back to being a college basketball coach – now there was a job that still paid!
The Congressional Pay Act was needed in part to control the costs of the increased size of Congress.  The ratio of representatives to population had skyrocketed to 900,000, and was well on its way to a million or more.  The 29th Amendment, first proposed in 2023, was finally fully ratified in 2025.  It restored a fixed ratio of Congressional representatives, as was the intent of many of the founding fathers.  The ratio of 50,000 was not acceptable by many, as the idea of a House of representatives with almost eight thousand members was a bit too much for even the most democratically inclined to accept.  A compromise was made at a ratio of 250,000, which created a Congress that was currently 1,592 members. 
When the waitress left, the five Congresspersons felt confident enough to quietly talk in the security of their private booth.  “Look,” began Congressperson Louise Pinkyard, the New Conservative from Alabama.  “I just gotta state, y’all convinced this is on the up and up?  We ain’t being played or punked, you think?  This ain’t some ginned up nonsense just to get us to increase the NASA budget, is it?”
Congressperson Gerald Jefferson, Progressive representative from Pennsylvania, laughed heartily.  “Oh, my lawd, Louise!  You is indeed my special friend!”  Louise frowned, but mostly in fun.  The two political opposites talked to each other this way all the time. Alfredo Barista wondered if sometimes they just didn’t find their own private booth.  “You been hanging out with Buddy Dixon far too much!”  Buddy was on the far edge of even the New Conservative Party, and was hard for even Louise to take.
Congressperson Barbara Winstead, one of Barista’s closest Progressive colleagues, guffawed.  “If any of you think this is going to be a slam dunk, you’re mistaken.  Buddy Dixon’s attitude is only part of the problem we’re going to have to work through.  This is going to be expensive as all get out, especially if we make it a manned mission.  That means the Republicans, the Libertarians and the New Conservatives will all have cost objections. Even the Democrats will want to make sure the right wheels are greased to make it work.”
“Now hold on a fine minute, Barbara,” oozed Congressperson Kenny Roberts, the chubby Democratic representative from Illinois, and a close ally of Subcommittee Chairman, Dabney Reynold. “You think the Democrats are gonna be a problem?  You might want to take a look at your own party as well.  You got a lot of members who think space exploration is a major distraction from what’s really important, like welfare spending and handing out goodies to those who don’t earn it.”
Barbara just shook her head.  “Good Lord!  What happened to the Democratic Party I grew up with?  You have moved so far away from FDR.  I mean, let’s get real.  You’ve even moved away from Obama and Clinton.”  The Democrats and Republican were mostly aligned with different configurations of wealthy elites and large corporations.  They didn’t dominate Congress anymore, but it was hard to get something done without one or both of them.
“Oh chill out, Barbara!” huffed Kenny.  “I’m not the problem, and you know it.  I saw the video.  I’m on board.  Just get the right contracts to the right people, and I can help line up Democrats.  And, Louise, I know General Davidson.  He’s a good buddy of mine.  He’s a straight shooter.  If he brought that to us, he is one hundred percent convinced that it is real and urgent.”
Alfredo Barista had remained silent, nursing his rum ‘n’ cola, taking in the conversation swirling around him. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but what I saw changed my life.  We are not alone, people, and now that we know that, we can’t go back to the way things were. We have an obligation to science and humanity to find out what is on Europa.  And the five of us, we represent three of the six major parties that are in Congress.  My question to all of you is - can we get this done?  Can we set aside our differences and create a fully funded, first class mission to Europa?”
Barbara started.  “Well, I can’t say what the Progressive Party will do as a whole, but I’m on board.  If they could see what we saw,” tears forming in her eyes, “I don’t see how anyone could stand in its way.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised, darling, cooed Kenny.  “But don’t worry.  I’ll do everything I can to bring the Democrats along.  Get the contracts in line for the tech companies, and I’ll see what I can do to persuade the Republicans with some military hardware suppliers, and we could be cooking with atomic gas!”
“I don’t know,” mused Louise.  “It’s gonna be a hard sell to my party.  They’re gonna be members who resist the money aspect.  They’re gonna be those who call it a hoax and affront to God. And we may even have some who’ll think we should just vaporize the planet.”  Even though the New Conservative Party was only the third largest party, with 296 representatives, they were an odd conglomeration of interests.  They included many of the remnants of the Christian Right, sitting sometimes uncomfortably with what is often described as the “Trump Rump” – those Tea Party diehards who stuck with him even after his crushing defeat in 2016.  The charters that allowed for competing parties expressly forbid parties coalescing around racism or pure regionalism.  There was no New South Party, or neo-Nazis style parties.  So most of the Trump Rump gravitated to the New Conservative Party, although there was a smattering of them in all of the other parties as well.  Racism was a hard impulse to keep out of American politics, but great progress had been made.
“But what do you think, Louise?  What do you think we should do?” asked Barista.
Louise thought for a second.  “Well, what I saw chilled me to the bone.  As much as I’d like to think not, I guess down deep I believe what I saw was real.  I just don’t know about the expense and risk of a manned mission.  Maybe we could send another probe.”
“I hate to say it, Alfredo, but I kind of agree with Louise,” echoed Gerald. “I am committed to further exploration.  It just terrifies me the chance we’re taking with our astronauts’ lives.”
“I know it’s a risk,” pleaded Barista.  “But this is huge and cannot be ignored.  We need intelligent men and women up there, able to make on the ground, or, er, in the ocean evaluations.  Decisions that even our most advanced computers cannot make.  So I don’t want any of you to have any doubts.  That’s what I’ll be pushing for.” 
“Well,” said Kenny, then pausing to guzzle a pint of The Public.  “We may not all be on the same page, but at least all agree on one thing.”
“What’s that?” asked Barbara.

Kenny slammed his empty pint glass down.  “At least none of us want to blow the damn thing up.”  

No comments:

Post a Comment