The Delegate 
Copyright Marva Dasef

Noiba Kune scanned through the files in her diplomatic queue and found the Twelfth Day Proceedings record.  She recited her mantra, then breathed deeply ten times before playing it.  Tired of the nonsense, her sense of duty nagged at her sufficiently to keep her at it.  She’d already watched for hours, quick scanning for the relevant items.

On the forty-eighth day of the proceedings, the delegates were getting testy as they began to tire.  Besides the daytime sessions every meeting was recorded, even the nightly cocktail parties where the real business occurred.  Every conversation, every speech, they saved every word for later analysis.

Noiba wondered if her selection as a delegate to the World Congress was such a great assignment.  Of the five hundred delegates, ten were at-large positions selected by computers from the general population.  Noiba's background provided racial variety, feminine outlook, and an average educational level for the population.  The other nine at-large delegates were selected on other factors, such as type of employment, religion, artistic talent, lower-level education, upper-level education, and a dozen other demographic characteristics.

Each at-large delegate represented at least three of the general categories.  One thing they could not be is political.  No offices held, no large donations to campaigns.  The delegates must represent the average citizen--no activists, no titans of business, no psychological problems. 

Noiba Kune: Serial number 536549921187, NorthAm/Chi-Afr. Education: PhD in Metaphysical Science. Employment: Client Metaphysician for Terr-Lunar Robotics, Inc. Marital Status: Significant Other to a genetically paired and licensed procreator.

Her ID card psych plus codes showed her to be stable, dependable, intelligent, self-reliant, and capable.  She didn't consider important the items listed on the negative side.  For the record, she showed more than average reluctance to accept authority decisions--nothing that would flag her as unstable, but a slight black mark which kept her from advancing to management.  A worker bee, she was perfectly happy doing her job without supervision and without supervising others.

Noiba began to fastscan the document, skipping over the opening benediction.  She had no proclaimed religion and the one hour sermon by Gari Ram Falwell did not interest her.  She wanted to review the speech by the Lunar Colony representative, a long and boring diatribe which included remarks on the question brought before the assembly today.

The ‘Elfivers’ resided on the chain of stations orbiting midway between the earth and the moon–the L5 or Lagrangian points.  They threatened to secede from Lunar Governance, to declare themselves a free state with full representation on the World Council and Congress. 

The Lunar Governance argued that since the Elfivers did not actually hold any real estate, they were not eligible for self-governance.  The Elfivers responded that the five space stations they occupied seemed real enough for them.  Lunar Governance countered that they didn’t own those stations since the Earth-Luna Consortium had funded and built them as halfway stations between the earth and the moon.  They claimed the Elfivers were simply caretakers, not owners.

Further the Lunies, as they called them, believed the L5 stations were not economically independent and relied on both the earth and lunar governments for supplies.  The Elfivers pointed out the research results over the last hundred years had more than paid for the initial construction costs plus a nice profit.  They contended they should now be free to run their own affairs.

Noiba stopped the fastscan at the beginning of the Lunar rep’s speech and started to listen more carefully.  Finally, she found the place where the moon’s delegate said, “The freedom and assurance of continued commerce between the earth and moon.  We must not allow power hungry politicos of any type to threaten us.  The Greater Luna Republic declares, here and now, and in no uncertain terms, that any attempts to halt or impair this commerce will be dealt with rapidly and severely.”

Noiba heaved a deep sigh.  It seemed on the face of it the Elfivers didn’t have a case for independence, but the vehemency of the Lunar threat was troublesome.  Rather than a flat-out threat, it seemed to her the Lunies would be better off if they proposed some type of compromise.  Perhaps, Luna could offer independence sometime in the future based on assurances of the continuation of the L5 colonies’ role in the Earth-Moon commercial trade.  Nonnegotiable threats would not win any friends.

The various earth-based governments tried to be more conciliatory.  However, they didn’t have as much to lose if the Elfivers gained independence.  Clearly, the Luna Governance was on shakier ground when it came to their assertion that L5 was not economically independent.  After all, the moon, while producing many metallic elements used in manufacturing, could not support itself with its hydroponic farming.  They, too, depended on earth for a lot.

Race was the unspoken aspect of the argument.  Everybody knew it, but nobody came right out with it.  Earth and moon were human-based, while androids occupied and ran the L5 colonies.  As a representative, she had to decide how her demographic group would feel about this issue and vote accordingly.

She had walked from the hotel to the World Congress building that morning and passed through a line of demonstrators.  Their picket signs were troublesome.  ‘L5 Belongs to Humans’, ‘Android Go Home’, and the worst of them, ‘Kill All Androids’.  She wondered where the protestors thought androids were at home.  If not the L5 colonies, then where?

She also wondered what the android representative would think.  Earthborn, he had no demographic connection to the Elfivers.  As an android, he should have an unemotional reaction to the issue.  Noiba thought she’d give him a call to get his thoughts on the matter.  Finding him in the representative list, she clicked on his voice connection.  He came on-line immediately.

“Hello.  This is Noiba Kune.  Do you have a few minutes to talk?” she asked.

The android paused a moment to access his database.  “Most certainly, Citizen Kune.  I am always pleased to speak with one of my co-delegates.  May I ask the topic of this conversation?” 

“Thank you, Citizen Tentwofive.  I watched the Twelfth Day proceedings, specifically, the Lunar representative’s comments on the L5 request for independence.  While I realize your demographic is Earth/High Ed/Non-joined, I was curious if you have a viewpoint on the issue as an android.”

“As you say, my demographic representation is not as an android, although I happen to be a member of that racial group.  Because of that, my oath as a delegate precludes me from considering it in my deliberations.”  He paused, then added, “Of course, ignoring one's essence when deliberating is sometimes difficult.”

“I hoped you might give me your thoughts, not as a delegate, but personally.  I realize I’m asking for private information and fully understand if you don’t wish to share, but I’d appreciate the android point of view.”

“Please, Citizen Kune, may we meet face-to-face on this?”

“Certainly,” she said.  “Where would you like to meet?”

“The lounge here at the hotel would be convenient.”

“That’s fine.  Say in ten minutes?”

“That is agreeable.”  The android cut the connection.

Noiba arrived at the hotel’s lounge precisely ten minutes later.  She saw Tentwofive in a corner booth and she joined him.  She punched her order into the servo and, within seconds, the slot opened and her drink appeared.

“Citizen Kune,  may I call you Noiba since this is no longer an official communication?”

“Of course.”  She wondered if an android could be paranoid.  Why couldn’t they have this conversation by communicator?  Clearly, Tentwofive didn’t want the conversation recorded, as it would be if they talked on-line or at an official function.

She studied the face of the android for a moment.  He would be considered handsome by human standards.  Android parents wanted good-looking children just like humans did.  She’d even heard some of them hired artists to design their children.  Of course, androids never went through the ‘baby’ stages, but began life in adult size.  The assigned parents taught the android children culture and societal mores, while they simply programmed factual knowledge into their copious memory banks.  Androids attained adult status five years from manufacture.

Tentwofive also studied her.  He had likely downloaded her entire history, but his intent gaze seemed to be looking for more than the hard facts of her life.

She waited for him to speak.

When he did, she noticed he aurally projected directly at her rather than in the dispersed voice androids used in most social situations.

“I do have views on this  . . .  Noiba,” he said cautiously. “I only hesitate to express them because I am not representing androids in this Congress.  I always maintain a neutral position until I can assess the facts and then come to a logical conclusion.”

“I appreciate it,” she said.  “I, too, try to maintain neutrality until all of the speeches and papers are presented.  Sometimes it’s difficult to remain neutral on subjects where I have prior experience.  I’m sure you find that true for yourself.”

He hesitated before he answered carefully. “My own opinion of the matter is that they should give the L5 colonies independence.  I suppose it shouldn't surprise you, but I don't believe my opinion is based on my being an android.”

“Please continue.  I appreciate that androids can separate personal feelings from logical views.”

“In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, several political and social groups on earth felt that a person could be ‘owned’ by another person.  They justified this attitude by misreading of a religious text.  Further, they claimed they practiced this form of servitude by historical precedent and by economic necessity.”

“The Lunies are not claiming to own the androids, only the L5 colonies,” Noiba answered.   She continued, “After all, the 2340 Accords gave androids full citizenship rights.”

“That is true, but owning the place in which others live and taking all they produce without recompense is a form of slavery.  The androids have repaid the Lunar governments for their initial investments.  I do not believe they should continue to make a profit from new technologies when the L5 colonies have already made them rich from the production of the L5 colonies.”

“Nevertheless, if a corporation has invested in some means of production, nothing requires it to give up profits beyond the initial investment,” Noiba countered, uneasy with the thought.

“I agree with you on the face of it, but the L5 citizens have expanded and modified the means of production.  They now produce and manufacture goods different from the original specifications.  An entirely different economy has replaced the simple mining stations that captured and refined the metals from the asteroid belt.  Earth and Luna no longer use this original purpose.  They now base the L5 economy on research, discovery, and production of pharmaceuticals.  It no longer is associated with its original purpose.”

Tentwofive continued, “Personally, I intend to immigrate to the L5 colonies.  I feel I have more in common with these people than those I represent.  I believe my future is with my own people.  Can you understand this, Noiba?”

Noiba sat speechless, surprised by the depth of feeling she could hear in the android’s voice.  “I see,” she said, not knowing what else to say. Noiba nodded.  She thought she knew how she would vote, but didn’t hold out much hope for the android’s desire.  Unfortunately, history tended to repeat itself.  The details might be different, but the story ended the same.

Soon after, the two went their separate ways.  Noiba walked slowly back to her hotel room, head down, deep in thought.  One delegate out of many, no matter how she voted, hers was but a single vote.  As she neared her room, she raised her head and came to a decision.

Noiba spent the rest of the night going over every bit of material she could find on the issue.  She wanted to know what she was talking about when she stood before the Congress.  It wasn’t much, she thought, but at least she will have done something.

***

The next morning, Noiba went to the Secretary’s office and placed herself on the speaking roster.  The clerk handling the scheduling gave a puzzled look.

“You do know the at-large delegates don’t usually give speeches, don’t you?”

“Yes, but no rule says I can’t give a speech.”

“One moment, please,” the clerk replied then clicked a button on her communicator.  She spoke in directed audio, so that Noiba couldn’t hear her.  After a few minutes, the clerk turned back to Noiba.

“What’s the topic?”

“The L5 colonies' resolution for independence,” Noiba answered firmly.

The clerk made no further comment, but entered Noiba into the agenda. “You’ll have five minutes at three o’clock this afternoon.”

“Thank you,” Noiba replied as she left the office.  Now committed, she’d better make it good.

***

A few minutes before three, Noiba made her way from the back of the auditorium to the speaker waiting area.  Her hands shook and she felt perspiration sliding down her back.  She wiped the back of her neck and forehead.

She jumped when she heard her name called.  She squared herself up and made the short walk to the podium.

“Good afternoon, Delegates.  My name is Noiba Kune and I have a few words to say regarding the L5 resolution.”  Noiba cleared her throat and glanced at her notes.

“Today’s society is color-blind in the sense that we treat all races of people equally and with respect.  You probably didn’t even notice when I came up here that my skin happens to be dark.  In another day and age, they would call me black or Negro.  Today, I’m just a citizen.”

The audience quieted as individual side conversations stopped.  “Why would anybody be talking about race?” they must have thought.

“I would like to quote a great American from the twentieth century.”  Noiba shuffled her cards.

“I have a dream . . . ”

Noiba finished her brief talk and walked away from the podium.  She looked out in the audience.  Most had returned to their conversations.  She heard some applause and saw, far up in the balconies at the back, a few people standing and clapping.  She recognized TenTwoFive in the group of androids.  Incredibly, he smiled at her.  She could now only wish him well.