184 - Plausible best case

The procedural motions to accept the report and the presentation, formally thank the Committee and dissolve it were passed, and then the adakri requested a motion to schedule the vote on whether to re-approve me. When she called for discussion, Linasika stood. I was still in the visitor’s chair; they hadn’t released me in case there were questions for me in the discussion.

“My sibling Servants of Assembly,” he said, “I stood to serve on the Chevengani Mental State Assessment Committee because I held then, and I still maintain, that the fitness of Chevenga for the position—and indeed the fitness of any person for the position—is a matter of the most extreme importance. Yes, the semanakraseye is, as we say, the one slave in Yeola-e, bound by all manner of strictures; but, as the subject of our investigation has himself so forcefully and effectively demonstrated, a semanakraseye can still be immensely powerful, and his actions can have the most profound impact on the nation.

“Now the Committee, in regard to the issue of whether his mental state should be taken into consideration when we decide whether to re-approve him, was all but deadlocked, as you’ve seen, a majority of one with two abstentions. And I think it would be fair to say, as I have read the transcripts of the debate, that the two members who abstained did so out of an opinion that the Committee was too small and insignificant a body to make such a determination.” Neither of the abstainers disputed this, and in fact Miniya Shae-Sima, ever a stickler, signed chalk.

“It’s also, to my mind, a matter of the most extreme severity, that for the first time in the history of Yeola-e—I have researched this, and it should be no surprise that there is absolutely no precedent—we are considering for approval to the semanakraseyesin a criminal convicted by no less than the Arch-Arbitrate, his crime a violation of the Statute semanakraseyeni itself.” Curse it, I thought, as I flinched from head to foot, after years of the man’s opprobrium, how can he keep surprising me?

“It is for these three reasons that I am of the opinion that Assembly should, and I therefore put forward the resolution that we do, cede the decision to a full vote of the people of Ye—”

“Yes!”

It was a gravel-voiced, wildly ecstatic war-bellow that rang through the Assembly chamber, breaking high. Who said that? By seeing that I’d stood up so fast I’d knocked over the visitor’s chair, my hands stabbing out the widest and strongest double-chalk possible, and hearing myself go on yelling “Yes! Yes! Yes yes yes yes yes!”—I realized, it was me. Speaking utterly out of turn: the adakri pinned me with her ancient eyes and snapped, “Fourth Chevenga Shae-Arano-e. Shush!”

I shushed, but stayed standing and signing double-chalk. “A full vote of the people of Yeola-e,” Linasika went on, staring at me astonished. “It seems… the aforementioned criminal agrees with me.” Darosera was standing, having been recognized, all ready to thoroughly and passionately rebut; now, staring at me, she said, “I, em… cede, angaseye.”

I knew Linasika’s plan. For a national vote, it’s traditional to allow at least a month for discussion, and that would put us well into winter and the closing of many of the passes. Thus it could not be held until spring, and that would give him and those who agreed with him a good five moons to smear shit on my name.

I didn’t care. I already felt cleaner, for knowing how clean I’d be made, either way, if the whole people got to vote on it—how this would end the question, once and for all.

As they debated it—many saying that they, and no doubt the nation, wanted an end to this whole sorry drama and Linasika was wrong to try to drag it out—I stayed standing with my arms locked hard in the double-chalk sign, dripping sweat as the sickness caught up with me, for the whole debate. The adakri, to my amazement, let me.

A fair way into it, Ansena Shae-Chereda, Servant of Leyere-Southwest, was recognized. “Sib Servants, I preside on the Standing Committee of Voting, as you know,” she said. “I would like to put forward, albeit cautiously, a proposal that should solve the dilemma of this—or any—referendum being at once both advisable and untimely. As you know, the Committee, at the behest of Assembly prompted by the semanakraseye, and with the aid of his wife Niku and a number of other A-niah, has undertaken the first planning in setting up a workfast of wing-couriers to speed the return of vote-counts, reducing the time from the traditional fourteen days to three.

“Now also, since the use of the Niah wing has made the closed pass, or at least the closed pass that prevents all travel through it, a thing of the past for couriers who are expert at winter flying, we also undertook to research the feasibility of making the impossibility of national votes in winter a thing of the past also. We have included in our report, which is due on atakina 83, fifteen days from now, a full plan to accomplish a three-day count, even in the coldest and most snow-laden months.

“What I venture to suggest, both to Assembly and to the members of the Committee of Voting, is that the Committee put aside all other business, finish and present our report in seven days, and then, subsequent to approval by Assembly, use this referendum, if we do indeed vote chalk to have it, as the first enactment and test of vote-count returns by wing.

“My feeling, personally, is that Fourth Chevenga has been sufficiently judged by national vote, with two of them in the past three years; but, in the light of all that has been revealed since spring, I can both understand his own very enthusiastic desire to be judged again, as well as that of Linasika and others to see it done, and anticipate that the people of Yeola-e might well feel another opportunity is called for. If we do what I am suggesting, the question can also be settled, as it ought to be, in a timely manner.”

It’s rare, but every now and then a plausible best case comes along that betters your absolute best. What could Linasika argue—that a referendum ought to take months?

They had little more to say; as it was coming to a close, the adakri hissed to me out of the side of her mouth, “Fourth Chevenga, you’ve overstepped enough standing with a double-chalk like that all through the debate; you’re not going to do it while they’re voting. Besides, you look like you’re about to keel over. Sit.” I obeyed.

They chalked the referendum fairly strongly, and chalked doing the count by wing almost unanimously. If everything went as planned, it would take place in a month, and the results be declared three days after that.

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