Chapter 171: Utopia

The democratic voting was a massive undertaking that lasted an entire week. It was a historic milestone for Federation, the first system-wide vote since the Federation was established. The referendum had a single, stark theme: determining the standard of living for its citizens.

On the public network, the Federation fully disclosed the Noah’s current supply crisis. Detailed data tables revealed that if current consumption rates were maintained, the stockpiles could only support a “lavish” lifestyle for roughly five years.

The first critical shortage would be organic compounds like methane, which were already severely depleted after the destruction of Mars. Without them, manufacturing everyday items like plastics would grind to a halt. At current rates, reserves would run dry in three to five years. Next would be agricultural fertilizers, nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium along with freshwater, lasting perhaps ten years.

However, if the populace strictly conserved and recycled, those same resources could stretch for thirty to fifty years. Even the top analysts couldn’t pinpoint an exact timeline; it depended entirely on future breakthroughs in recycling technology and public discipline.

Just as the Federation had hoped, after a week of intense public debate, the anxious citizenry overwhelmingly voted for austerity. Over 80% chose the strict conservation model. It proved that the public was rational: given the choice between short-term luxury and long-term survival, they overwhelmingly chose to live longer.

“That’s the beauty of political wisdom,” Jason murmured with a sigh of relief as he reviewed the results. “They chose to swallow the bitter pill themselves. Even when it hurts, they can’t blame us for a choice they made…”

This mandate was valid for one year, after which the public would hold another referendum.

Empowered by the public’s choice, the Federation launched a bold new economic policy, an experimental “utopia.”

They divided the civilian population into twenty-five distinct communities, ensuring family units remained intact, with each zone housing roughly two thousand people. Every month, the Federation would allocate a bulk shipment of necessities to each community, scaled to the austerity vote.

Within the community, the policy was a purely “needs-based” distribution system. Residents could take what they required from the communal stores, and everything was… free!

Yes, completely free.

This was the ultimate stress test of human nature. The bulk supplies were finite. If the community truly operated on a needs-only basis, there was enough for everyone to survive comfortably. But they weren’t living in a post-scarcity era. What if someone got greedy?

If one family hoarded premium meat rations, another family went without. If someone took a long, hot shower, someone else wouldn’t have enough water to drink. It was a zero-sum game within the community bounds. If someone took more, someone else definitively got less.

There were only two possible outcomes for this utopian experiment:

First: absolute chaos. A tragedy where panic and selfishness took over, and the stores were stripped bare in minutes. It would lay bare the ugliest, most selfish facets of human nature. This was the outcome Jason and the council desperately wanted to avoid, though they believed the risk was low.

Second: mutual respect. The community self-regulates, resources are shared equitably, and they even manage to generate a small surplus. This would prove that humanity was capable of profound mutual trust. If they could achieve this, a true utopian society was actually possible!

The Federation’s underlying goal was to foster a profound sense of civic responsibility and communal stewardship, preparing the populace for a potential post-scarcity future should they ever find a resource-rich planet.

To guide the experiment, the Federation implemented several guardrails. All communal withdrawals were digitally logged, Federation liaisons were deployed to mediate disputes, and the zoning algorithms deliberately grouped friends and established social circles together to increase baseline trust.

They also had a safety net: the Federation credit system remained active. While basic survival goods were free in the communal stores, citizens could still use their credits to purchase premium goods directly from the Federation at massively inflated prices. (The Federation withheld a small percentage of total supplies specifically for this). If someone tried to buy their way back to a luxury lifestyle, a month’s salary wouldn’t last a week.

Some might wonder, why would anyone pay for something they could get for free? Human nature guaranteed that some would prefer the premium option.

Ultimately, it was a high-stakes test of their civilization’s moral fiber. If it sparked riots, the experiment would be immediately aborted, and strict martial law rationing would be enforced.

Jason, Professor Shane, Austin, and the rest prayed it would work.

Jason was incredibly nervous. Unable to sleep that night, he left his quarters for a late-night walk.

The Noah’s artificial sun lamps had dimmed to simulate night, leaving only the soft glow of streetlights in the corridors. Walking the quiet ship, his mind raced. He remembered the “last supper” before the supernova, how 50,000 people had sat together like one massive, peaceful family.

If only people could maintain that atmosphere, living in harmony, resolving occasional conflicts with grace, and finding common ground. He wondered if modern humanity was truly capable of that.

The rules sounded simple: take only what you need. But “need” isn’t equal. A heavy laborer burns more calories than a desk clerk; a pregnant woman requires specific nutrition. Equitable distribution required profound empathy and understanding from the whole community. It worked in micro-environments; a married couple wouldn’t hoard food from each other during a crisis. But scaling that profound trust to two thousand people was a monumental challenge.

“Professor Shane?”

“Good evening, Commander.”

Jason wasn’t the only insomniac. Professor Shane, Evan, Austin, and several other officials had gravitated to the central plaza outside the Federation headquarters, all plagued by the same anxieties.

“Do you think it’ll work?”

“I honestly don’t know…”

They debated into the night, unable to reach a consensus. The citizens of the Noah were highly educated, resilient survivors, but human nature was deeply unpredictable.

Jason sighed into the cool air, hoping beyond hope that humanity would rise to the occasion.

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