“Well? What did you think?”
Lisa shook her head at the impossibility of answering that question. “I used to wonder why people bothered going out of their compartments at all; why they didn’t just cyberlink into the net, and have anything they wanted that way. But somehow—I’m sure we’ll never do that. We have to get out of our homes, out of our own selves, at least once in a while. I suppose it’s biological. Something we’re driven to do.”
Ben pursed his lips. “Biology is destiny? What a depressing thought.”
They were walking past the same bench they’d ate at. She made them sit down again. It suddenly felt cold in the gathering evening, and she huddled up next to him. She said, “I keep thinking about the Strike. You’ll never convince me the issues involved couldn’t be settled in a single hour if all sides wanted to. Instead… every time I think about where it’s heading… maybe it was inevitable that once there were enough shimps we had to start thinking of them as a threat. It’s like there’s this territorial part of our brains that we can’t ignore however hard we try.”
Ben had been listening intensely. Now he pulled away and rocked back on the bench, and looked to be chewing hard on her observations. Finally he said, “So, what you’re saying is, homs can’t share the Universe with another species. Even one of their own making.” He silenced her objection. “That is what you just said: Homs have to expand their territory, no matter what alternatives are offered them; and they can’t co-exist with other species.”
Lisa couldn’t argue. That was exactly what she had just said, in almost as few, blunt words. It was shocking to hear such a concession from her lips.
“Then I retract everything I just said.”
“Why?” he demanded in sudden heat. “Because the only logical conclusion is too horrible to contemplate? That’s a stupid reason. Or—don’t you have the stomach for a real fight?”
She realized she was shivering hard, despite her best efforts. The Qi Pao was not much protection against the night. “It’s getting late—”
Ben stood up abruptly, in a jerk that made her start. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to frighten you.” He smiled easily again. “I’m afraid that was the cynical part of me getting out.”
He put his hand out, but this time she refused it. They walked back to the Columbus Circle gate in silence, a walk which seemed to take hours. When she passed through it she felt as though she were entering sanctuary, although it was just as dark outside.
Ben put out a stiff hand. He said, “Well, thank you for going out with me, Lisa Jiang. As usual, I had a most enlightening time. I hope to see you again some time.”
Then he vanished into the night.
“…Ready here, the Voice of Reason, the Defender of Decency, the Trumpet of Truth. It’s time to let the little guy toot…”
“…Have everything they need. Not everyone can say that. There are still millions of poor people down here…”
“…Made it all possible anyway? Us, that’s who. We did. And now they think they can lord over us. Like we’re sub-human, or something. I say it’s about time they started considering how they got where they are in the first place.”
“OK, maybe it is partly our fault. Or even all our fault. The point is, you can’t designate certain groups victims, and then give them all kinds of special privileges just to make up for..”
Strange, that she hadn’t dreamed about Allison before. Of course, perhaps she had, but didn’t remember. This dream popped her wide awake, the girl’s crying echoing from the walls around her. A moment later the ugly metallic thing would have come down…
The sheets were damp, and her compartment smelled of animals fighting; sweat and fear and the musky scent of hormones. She sat up and ordered the lights on. Civilization surrounded her again, driving out the barbarians. She pulled herself from the sticky sheets, went to the bathroom, and then walked around for a while, fighting to calm herself.
She made some tea. “Ouch!”
“Are you injured, Ms. Jiang?”
“No. I mean, yes, I just burned myself. Medical attention isn’t necessary.” She flicked on the faucet and plunged the angry flesh into a cold stream of water. Where was that salve?
“Are you certain you don’t require medical attention?”
“It’s only a first degree burn.” The shrieking pain vanished at the first touch of the salve. It would be healed in an hour.
The whistling kettle disrupted her thoughts. She poured, with extra care, and sat down with the dark liquid. Chinese dragons, glowing red and yellow from the heat, romped playfully across the ceramic surface of the cup; another gift from the past.
The pad was whispering softly in the background: Reed Ready’s slivered voice cutting through another victim. “What we owe them? Perhaps I should remind you of certain facts about our shimp ‘brothers.’ It was the World Court which ruled that ending shimp production was a violation of their rights as a sentient species; that we had to increase their population to the point where they could threaten us—excuse me, I mean ‘Participate as a significant faction in society…’ An opportunity they promptly took advantage of by muscling out the hom belt miners. So, so much for your greed argument; that’s just another feel good guilt trip.”
“Turn that crap off!”
The voice slithered back into the city noises outside. Lisa sipped the tea, still scalding hot. When? she wondered. When will the powder keg blow? Tomorrow? Next week? Year? With enough fools like that caller, sooner was a better bet than later. Strange as the alliance sounded, both Ben and Ready were right on that point: species guilt, hom or otherwise, was an irrational concept that only obscured the real issues. And Ready was perfectly correct in his facts, as Ben had warned her, shimp production was being phased out when the Court made its bizarre ruling. As for the hom miners being “muscled out,” strictly speaking that also was true. Of course, if Ready knew that he also knew how those shimps came to be in the position of muscling anyone.
Someone ought to speak up…
She closed her eyes and saw Allison.
“We interrupt to bring you this special report. The United Nations Security Council voted this morning to recommend economic sanctions ‘Against all non-terrestrial trade organizations, individuals and states…’ a resolution that was quickly ratified by the necessary two-thirds majority of voting members. The resolution further stated that… it was emphasized that ‘although this should not be construed as a military or in any other fashion hostile act, its provisions will be enforced by appropriate instruments of defense.’ The resolution was swiftly denounced by…”
The worst thing was the way everyone seemed to carry on as if nothing had happened. If anything, there was an enormous relief, like a giddy fog, swirling about the people she passed. Relief that the inevitable had at last happened. That something was finally being done—good, bad or indifferent didn’t matter anymore. It was a fog the people seemed to breathe deeply without even being aware of it.
Even the children were intoxicated. Lisa had to be cross with Erin three times before the morning was half over, finally banishing the boy to the hallway. He soon had company. It was as though hyperactivity had become a contagious disease. One after one, the innocent faces were evicted. Finally, she found herself screaming at them.
She’d never lost her temper with her children before.
A day’s torture later, a torrent of small bodies exploded from the classroom, and she was left alone with her thoughts. What thoughts? What’s left to think about? All her life she’d wanted to teach, and now—why? What was the point? There was an invincible, if transparent, door between the student called humanity and the lessons it needed to learn: transparent because you could see through it, but invincible nonetheless. Sisyphianly invincible.