“Did that work, do you think?”
“I got a note from her a few hours ago,” Matt said. “She says the committees are clearing logjams now. ‘No one wants to be the person who stands in the way of the Chen’s vision,’ she said.”
“Excellent. That would be something, wouldn’t it? To have a new governmental structure for the fiftieth anniversary?”
“We would truly have something to celebrate then.”
“And you would be able to step down at the end of the year,” MingWei said.
“That is my hope. Although heading the government has not been particularly difficult. Everyone is being very careful not to disappoint the Chen.”
Matt smiled.
“Maybe it’s something about the way I came to power.”
MingWei laughed.
“Yes, I think that may have something to do with it.”
They sat and sipped their tea. It was a pleasant afternoon, even by Arcadia standards.
Zielinski pushed the committees relentlessly through July, and was able to present the completed document – the Arcadia Charter – to the whole convention on Tuesday, July thirtieth. She put the question of adoption of the charter on the table.
Two days of debate rapidly devolved into minutia yet again, as a minority of the convention delegates paraded their pet issues once more. The convention was the captive of the bitter-enders.
Zielinski considered how to break the logjam. She looked over the delegates listing closely. Who would be the right person?
Zielinski made a couple of calls that evening and hoped for the best.
On August first, Zielinski called the auditorium to order once again. As she was about to reopen the debate, a hand went up and a voice called out from the delegates. It was a voice used to making itself heard over the noises of farm animals, and carried clearly to all corners of the group.
“Madam Chairman.”
Zielinski looked out over the auditorium.
“Yes, Mr. Boykov.”
“Madam Chairman, I call the question.”
“Second,” Indira Bakshi called out from the front row.
There was a buzz of conversation in the room, and some objections were shouted. Zielinski hammered for order. When the delegates quieted down, she continued.
“It has been properly moved and seconded that we stop debate and vote on the pending question, which is the adoption of the Arcadia Charter as it stands,” Zielinski said. “All those in favor of stopping debate and voting now, raise your right hand.”
Zielinski looked out over the group. It looked like she might have the two-thirds she needed.
“Thank you, hands down. All those opposed, raise your right hand.”
Zielinski looked out over the crowd again. Much smaller. Less than half as many, she thought. She decided she had the two-thirds she needed for closing debate.
“Thank you, hands down. There are two-thirds in favor of closing debate. We will therefore vote immediately.
“The pending question is GQ-287 in your heads-up displays. General Question Two Hundred Eighty-Seven. ‘Yes’ for adoption of the Arcadia Charter right now as it stands, ‘No’ to not adopt the Arcadia Charter at this time and to resume debate. You have one hour to vote. You may change your vote during that hour if you wish. Only your final vote status in one hour will be counted or recorded.”
The hour allowed for frenzied last minute debates among the members, and there were more than a few of them going on in the auditorium. Zielinski knew the charter’s proponents were working over the balkers, trying to get them to come over. Accept the whole package, despite misgivings on one minor item or another.
Zielinski watched it all with satisfaction. She knew she had a majority for passage, it was a question of how many she had. How overwhelming would the vote be?
Of course, the bitter-enders all knew she had a majority for passage, too. And she had already announced the final vote tallies would be published. Who wanted to be the one to vote against the charter? Who wanted to go down in history as the naysayer?
Who would disappoint the Chen?
She would see soon.
A large number of votes popped up on the tally board in Zielinski’s heads-up display within a few minutes. They were about eighty percent for the measure and twenty percent against.
Of course, the delegates could see the tally board, too. As the hour wore on, more positive votes joined, and, while the number of No votes was constant, the percentage of No votes declined. As the end of the hour approached, there were twenty-one No votes out of the two hundred delegates.
In the last few minutes, the number of No votes started to decline. It accelerated as the deadline approached. No one wanted to be the last man standing.
Zielinski waited a little past the deadline as the last No votes disappeared. As soon as the No vote total hit zero, she locked the vote and called time before anyone could change their mind.
“The vote is two hundred to zero. The motion passes. The Arcadia Charter is adopted.
“The business of this convention being at an end, I declare it adjourned and dissolved.”
Zielinski hammered the gavel once and walked off the stage as the delegates applauded and cheered.
Arcadia had a charter. At least, a proposed one.
It was up to the plebiscite now.
Plebiscite And Celebration
That afternoon, Thursday, August first, 2295, Zielinski asked the Chen for a meeting. Matt received her for tea, as before. What was different this time is that Zielinski carried a document with her.
With both seated and tea poured, Zielinski laid the hard-copy document on the table between them and pushed it to Matt.
“Chen Zufu, I am here to report we have passed the Arcadia Charter. I then dissolved the convention, its business being concluded.”
Matt looked down at the document, back to Zielinski.
“And what was the vote, Madam Chairman?”
“Two
