|
|
The news anchor looked directly at the camera and flashed her perfect smile. “And finally, we’ve all heard of holidays being marked with fireworks, parades, and large quantities of good food. But a holiday where the main attraction is burning an organization in effigy?” She arched an eyebrow with the skill of an actor. “For that, we go to William Grange, on Pluto.” A clean-shaven man in his mid-forties, dressed in a light-green body suit stood before a small window; the lower half of which was dark while the upper half was filled with stars. In a slow, even voice he began, “Next month marks the centennial of an historic act few people remember. On August 24, 2006, the IAU, the International Astronomical Union, the predecessor of at least seven organizations of today, voted on a new definition of a planet. The result being Pluto, considered a planet for seventy-six years, was no longer one. The records indicate there was some brouhaha over the matter at the time, but it quickly faded. “The members of the IAU probably gave little thought to what their decision would mean to the men and women who would eventually colonize Pluto. The emotional scarring from hearing snide remarks like, ‘Couldn’t you find a real planet?’ and other childish jests. It is said that time heals all wounds, but today’s Plutonians have no intention of healing. The biggest advocate of keeping the rift alive between Pluto and the long-dissolved international body, is King Tobias Asher of Pluto. That’s right, the King of Pluto. I interviewed him recently in the only attraction on Pluto, The Witch’s Teat, described as the coldest pub in the solar system.” The scene changed to show a man in his late fifties with a long beard that was turning white, sitting across from William. On the small table between them sat two bottles of beer. “I’ve never interviewed a King before,” William said. Tobias smiled and said, “I’ll be gentle.” “Now, for the folks at home wondering how there can be a King in the Republic, your position is not heredity?” “No, I was elected King thirteen years ago, for a term of approximately 248 and 1/2 years.” William held back a chuckle. “That’s the orbital period of Pluto, correct?” “Yes.” “Are you planning on serving your full term?” Tobias laughed a deep, resonating laugh. “I would love to. But I’ll probably end up abdicating at some point.” William frowned. “Why abdicate?” “It’s better than dying in office.” William shrugged and took a sip of his beer to concede the point. “Now, how were you elected?” “Well…” Tobias brought his left hand to his face and he started stroking his beard, “all the colonists were sitting around in the Teat, drinking, and we didn’t have a real government at the time, we just did what needed to be done, which seemed to work just fine. But some idiot said we should form a government.” “Did they give a reason?” Resting his elbow on the table, Tobias thought for a few seconds then answered, “I think it had something to do with increasing our chances of getting Republic money for building a new brewery, or something like that.” Sitting up straight Tobias continued, “So we started going around the room, trying to come up with a form for our government.” “What kinds of ideas?” “Oh, we had some elaborate systems, with variations on the Roman Republic to the Catholic Church. We did spend a great deal of time talking about becoming Space Catholics.” “So, instead of King you would have been the Space Pope?” “Plutonian Pope.” “Of course,” William said with a grin. “But it didn’t work out because of the whole celibacy issue.” Tobias took a drink of his beer. “That was the deal breaker. Finally we decided on something simple; just a King.” “I heard originally there wasn’t even going to be an election.” “No.
At first we were just going to draw straws. Then somebody came
up with the idea of playing poker; winner takes all. But in the
end we figured that to make it all nice and legal-like, we should
hold an election.”
|