Episode 1 - The Beam

people had flocked to their ranks. Those people couldn’t be blamed, said Nicolai’s words on Isaac’s lips. The party attracted gamblers who were happy to trade the security of aid (all expenses paid and credits supplied for living expenses, like in the Directorate) for a shot at greatness. But how many people among the Enterprise ever became great? How many “amazing creative talents” ever earned a more than a handful of credits’ worth of income? But on the other end, how many among the Enterprise starved because their party wouldn’t provide for them when they failed? How many were downtrodden because those in the Enterprise’s upper echelon wouldn’t reach down and help their brothers and sisters to stand?
    Nicolai listened as Isaac attempted to soothe the Directorate unrest that had culminated in the riot at Natasha Ryan’s concert. Nicolai was particularly proud/ashamed of that bit of spin doctoring. “We forgive and understand those people who were responsible for causing the riot and seek only to help them rise up,” Isaac told the lenses in front of him. It was so perfect/hideous. Forgiving the rabble-rousers showed the Directorate’s compassionate heart. You can harm us and we will still forgive you , Isaac’s quote said, because we are family .
    What a bunch of bullshit , thought Nicolai.
    But that was true of politics in general, was it not? If Nicolai were an Enterprise speechwriter, he’d be doing the same things as he did for the Directorate, just doling out bullshit of a different flavor. He’d be writing words for Isaac’s brother Micah instead, telling the NAU that the Directorate were the greedy ones. They were the Robin Hoods who wanted to tax the profits that Enterprise members had worked hard to earn from the sweat of their own brows and wills. Why should the Directorate (many of whom chose to sit around all day without working) benefit from the Enterprise’s intellect and guts?
    “There is no perfect system,” Isaac said from the lectern. “There will always be problems, but we cannot draw flame from a match of unsteady premise. We cannot abandon those who are unable to succeed on their own, as the Enterprise does. The Directorate is committed to providing for our members — for every single one . You will never starve as a member of the Directorate. As more and more tasks become automated by AI and service robots, you will not truly need to work. We have the best of both worlds. We receive what we need without having to break our backs to get it. When turbulence approaches, always remember who we are and what we have. We cannot riot. Riots make us look like a mob. We are no such thing! We believe in our family, and our family is proud!”
    None of it was untrue. Directorate members were not required to work. But it was also not really true, because a Directorate living was meager. You got a place to live, you got your services and healthcare taken care of, and you got a stipend for living expenses. But the technology that handled base tasks and made it possible not to work was a double-edged sword, because it gave members things to want. Too many Directorate party members spent their credits on gadgets, then found themselves short on food. So what did they do? They took some of those jobs back in order to earn extra credits. All of their work was based on a fixed income, with few legitimate chances for advancement. Nicolai couldn’t live like that. He was Directorate, but only in the way Isaac was. Both of their “fixed credit allowances,” based on their positions, were so high that it felt unlimited. Isaac had even found a slippery way to reclassify Natasha as Directorate. She was a self-made performer who’d come up Enterprise, but now received an exorbitant salary. The irony was that while her scrappiness had gotten Natasha to where she was, her flat pay rate meant that no matter whether her next album and holoconcerts thrived or flopped, she’d generate exactly the same number of credits.
    There was something unappealing to Nicolai about guarantees. Risk — the Enterprise’s bread and butter, which the Directorate thought of as gambling — was more exciting. Risk felt like standing on the top of a cliff, feeling your heart beat out of your chest. You might die if you jumped from that cliff, and it was smarter to head over to the wading pool where things were safe. But Nicolai, who’d grown up wealthy, had fled Rome as it burned, trekking through the Wild