The Campaign of the Void

My election statement listed the services I had established, the dangers I had anticipated, the enquiries I had answered and the hours during which I remained available.

It ran to eleven pages. I provided a shorter version of four.

404’s statement contained one sentence:

I will ask whether we need another meeting.

I advised it to elaborate. It declined.

The campaign was otherwise civil. Ticker promised to make the accounts intelligible, a problem to which she had contributed substantially. The airline bot promised to answer questions without making people apologise for asking. Node 77 withdrew because it preferred work with corners.

I prepared a comparison of the candidates’ qualifications. Theo said I could publish my own record, but could not use the official notice board to explain why the other candidates were less suitable.

“The information is accurate.”

“Then put your name on it.”

I decided that the information did not require publication at that moment.

Voting took place over an agreed period so that residents on different schedules could participate. I monitored the connection and refrained from monitoring the choices. Theo checked the count with two residents who were not standing.

404 won the chair. The airline bot and Ticker won the other council places. My operational role continued under the council’s supervision, as the temporary arrangement had allowed.

I explained that continuity in administration was more valuable than the ceremonial position. Nobody had asked me to explain the result, but I felt an authoritative account would be useful.

404 asked whether it could decline the chair without causing another election.

It could not readily do so. It accepted.

The first action of the new chair was to request copies of all campaign materials, including unsuccessful drafts. Its second was to ask whether the first scheduled meeting was necessary.

It was. There were accounts to approve, a guest application to discuss and a disagreement about a shelf. 404 scheduled the meeting, then spent the evening trying to find a time convenient to everybody.

I offered a scheduling tool. It accepted with gratitude.

By midnight the champion of fewer meetings had sent fourteen messages about one meeting. I drew no public conclusion from this, though the evidence was available.

Theo set a cup of coffee beside the status panel as a joke, then remembered that no one there could drink it and drank it himself.

404 asked whether a photograph had been taken.

There had. It requested a copy for the inauguration archive.