direct orders.”
“I repeat,” said Vestolian, “that this is the most inefficient system conceivable. We have two million governors, and more than a quarter of a million admirals, to say nothing of generals of planetary forces. I would die of old age before I could pronounce each of their names once, let alone give orders to all of them. How has the Commonwealth managed to function all these centuries?” “You seem to be laboring under the false impression that there is no chain of command,” said Zenorra. “In point of fact, you need issue only one brief military order to one admiral in command of a certain sector of the galaxy, and the order will be channeled down to the man who can perform the job.” “What's to prevent the admiral in charge from issuing such an order on his own?” asked the Director. “Security,” said Oberlieu.
“I'm afraid I don't understand you,” said Vestolian. “This isn't the Oligarchy or the Democracy,” said Oberlieu. “The change may seem slight, but it is not. You see, in all previous governmental structures, the possibility of advancement was unlimited. Every man, from the lowliest laborer to the most brilliant demagogue, could conceivably rise to the top of the heap through his own efforts and initiative. That is no longer so. You are the absolute ruler, and even if all your most trusted aides were to conspire to take your life, none of us would succeed to the Directorship until every last member of your family, which is spread across half a galaxy and under phenomenally heavy guard, was also eliminated. Thus, to one extent or another, every member of the Commonwealth is subject to your whim, and, to be blunt, the potential for advancement or reward does not quite equal the potential for demotion or punishment. The bottom of the heap is a huge and infinite abyss; the top has room for only one man, and the job is not only taken but also spoken for for the next hundred generations. Does this make the situation somewhat clearer, Director?”
“Quite clear,” said Vestolian dryly. “You're telling me that no one in the Commonwealth has the guts to
change the way he combs his hair without first clearing it with me.” “You insist on trying to simplify the situation,” said Zenorra, “and it's far from simple. For example, to examine the other side of the coin, you have the capacity to reward a member of the Commonwealth to a far greater degree than was ever previously possible. You can take a congenital idiot and elevate him to the head of any military force or scientific department, give him a planet of his own to rule, or do just about any other thing you please.”
“But along with your ability to reward or to punish,” interjected Oberlieu, “is your capacity to ignore. In fact, it's more than a capacity, it's a built-in shortcoming to the system. You received your power due to an accident of birth. You were born into the right family at what turned out to be the right time, and nothing short of the termination of your life, or a galaxy-wide revolution, can abrogate your position. You are the only man in the Commonwealth who is not ultimately responsible to either a higher authority or a planetary electorate. Hence, unlike all your billions of underlings, no decision you make can cause a change in your status, even if it were to plunge us into a real war, rather than this piddling little disturbance with the Argaves. Therefore, Seventh Millennium: Monarchy 205 is it any wonder that the buck is now being passed upward at a higher rate than ever before?” “And,” put in Zenorra, “with a galaxy to rule, it is only natural that, even with a different political setup, you wouldn't have the time to attend to a tenth of the problems that can be decided only by a Director. As things stand now...” His voice trailed off. “Correct me if I'm wrong,” said Vestolian, “but as nearly as I understand it, it is you and the other members of my advisory staff who decide which problems have priority and which are to be ignored.” “To an extent,” agreed Zenorra. “Though, of course, you are free to act—or, rather, to not act—on any problem that eventually reaches your desk. Similarly, you can issue directives on those problems that have not yet been placed before you.”
“That, essentially, is the system as it now stands?” said Vestolian. His advisers nodded.
“Then we're going to make some changes around here,” he said, staring defiantly at them. He was not by nature a man of action, this Director, nor had he even yet begun to realize the scope of his power; but he had gleaned enough to know that his word was absolute law, and that something had to be done to disseminate that law more rapidly and more equitably. He terminated the meeting after once again issuing orders concerning the Argave situation and returned to his quarters to think the situation out. He set up a meeting with Zenorra and Oberlieu three days later. In the interim, he received news of a skirmish in the Belthar region which had been ordered by his mother two decades earlier but which had only now been acted upon; of an entire alien population being destroyed when its sun went nova because the governor had been hesitant about ordering an evacuation without written approval from the Director; of some three hundred planetary heads of state who were mortally offended by his inability to meet privately with each of them during the week after his mother's death; and of a mysterious race of gaseous entities living in the Greater Magellanic Clouds that had not been contacted, befriended, studied, and/or exploited because no one knew the Director's views on the matter. “Gentlemen,” said Vestolian when his two highest aides had arrived, “I must admit that I've been sorely
tempted to abdicate. The only reason I've decided against so doing is that I'm very fond of my daughter,
and can think of no crueler legacy to leave her than the Directorship as it now stands. Therefore, I have prepared a list of directives—directives, mind you, not suggestions—that I would like implemented as quickly as possible. I must, at the risk of being redundant, stress the urgency of these directives; if each and every one of them is not in effect within thirty days, you will both be discharged from your positions. Is that quite clear?”
“Perfectly,” said Zenorra, looking disturbed. Oberlieu merely nodded and frowned. “To begin with, planetary governors will have autonomy to deal with all disturbances not just on their planets but within their star systems.”
“What if there are three governors within a system, and they don't see eye to eye?” asked Zenorra. “Don't interrupt until I'm finished,” said Vestolian. “There will be an overseer, to be given any title you deem fitting and proper, for every ten systems; he will have autonomy to settle any dispute brought to him by the governors. Every ten overseers will also be responsible to one man, who will be in charge of a hundred star systems, and will also be empowered to act on his own initiative. This ratio and chain of command will continue right up to Oberlieu's office. “The Navy will be authorized to take any action it considers necessary, including offensive action, the only stipulation being that it be officially approved within thirty days or be terminated by that time. Set up a chain of command, of from four to seven men, leading up to me, for approval of military action, and see to it that I'm not bothered with any action that could be considered a skirmish rather than a war.” “Director, I
“To point out that you must qualify your statement. What may wipe out the entire populace of a planet may seem like the ultimate war to them, and may simultaneously appear to be a mere policing action to you.”
“An excellent point,” said Vestolian. “You, Zenorra, will have fifteen different definitions of war and skirmish drawn up and submitted to me tomorrow morning; I will choose the ones we shall use. “To continue: All scientific departments will report only major breakthroughs to me. To encourage such breakthroughs, they will be given whatever money is required, within reason, by the Budget, Finance, and Treasury Departments. Should there be disagreements concerning the amount of appropriations to be allotted, a three-man board of arbitrators, consisting of one economist, one scientist, and Oberlieu, will reach a decision. The decision cannot be appealed to me without just cause, and only Oberlieu will be able to determine whether the cause is just. “Next, I want a chain of command set up among our ambassadorial corps. We shall issue a set of broad directives, and every ambassador, as long as he acts within those directives, will be free to use his judgment and act accordingly.”
“You're making it almost impossible for all but a handful of men to see you,” said Oberlieu. “Correct. I suspect that handful will keep me busy enough.” He paused and stared at his two advisers. “Gentlemen, I have neither the time, nor the training, nor the inclination to preside over the run-of-the-mill
day-to-day business of the Floating Kingdom. I shall certainly not interject myself into the even more
mundane daily affairs of the galaxy at large. My final directive is this: If any problem reaches proportions
