“For those of you who are still listening, for those of you who have understood what I’ve been saying and who have felt what I’ve been feeling, let me say this. It is not too late. The choice has not been made. We can still change this world of ours for the better. But the hour is upon us. Ahead the path divides.”
Again the camera moved inward, until her face filled the screen, her eyes staring earnestly into the lens.
“There is an old tradition that when the mother dies, the eldest daughter assumes her responsibilities, taking care of her little brothers and sisters. ...” She paused, her features softening. “It seems to me that we are in need of such an eldest daughter. Someone to care for us, to fill that gap of love and tenderness, to satisfy those deeper, finer urges within us. To bring them out.
“It is my purpose, from this evening on, to use what wealth I have to become this City’s conscience, to be its Eldest Daughter, tending and caring, and showing by my example how it is we ought to be behaving toward each other.”
The camera moved back.
“You see how I am dressed. Simply. Inexpensively. As a good woman would
dress in the Lowers of our City. So shall I dress from this time on, and
all the money saved will be diverted to a special fund—a fund which will
be used to feed and clothe and educate those in the Lowers who have not
the means to do so for themselves. Not only that, but I shall eat far more
simply than before: a small, well-balanced meal—nutritionally adequate—as
one would eat below. And again, all savings shall be diverted to the
fund.”
There was the faintest smile now on that earnest face. “But one person’s efforts, however powerful that person, cannot bring about the change that has to come. Alone I cannot do it. And that is why I want you all to join me. To dress as I dress and eat as I eat, and to contribute all of the savings made to a central fund—a fund which shall be named ‘Eldest Daughter.’”
The smile grew, coaxing a response.
“These actions—gestures of solidarity, of basic humanity—will be our starting point. From these foundations we shall work our great change—a change not in the politics of this great City, but in its most basic attitudes, in how it thinks and feels about itself.” She nodded, her face determined, certain, now. “We can have a say. We can make a difference. But only if we wake to the emptiness within and throw off the weight of lethargy that has, until now, kept our spirits chained.”
The room was gone. Suddenly the garden was back, but this time there was no wall. The sunlit grass stretched away to the horizon. Mary Lever looked about her briefly, then turned back, smiling. “Once again I ask you to join with me, to share this great moment and take the first step on the path to new health, new growth. All you have to do is contact the box number at the end of this broadcast, giving your name and stack code, and a full information pack will be delivered to you before the evening’s out. Don’t wait to be the last to make the change. Act now and be proud to say, ‘I was among the first.’ And remember . . . your tzu, your Eldest Sister, awaits you.” The light intensified, became a honeyed gold. Her voice now spoke from the middle of that light, as if it were embedded in it. “We can make our world a new and special place. We can. But we must act and act now, before it is too late. Ahead lies the divide. One path leads to darkness, one to light. Let us make sure we choose the path that leads to balance . . . the Way that leads into the sunlight.” Her voice fell silent. Only the gold remained, filling the screen. There was the sound of a bell being struck, and then slowly, very slowly, the contact number appeared in a box in the center of the screen—the blood-red letters forming from the gold, surrounded by a circle of tiny bright-red pictograms which read “good luck,” “good health,” and “many children,” time and again in an unending triad of good fortune. As it faded, Wu Shih breathed deeply, heavily, then turned. All of his senior staff had now gathered and were waiting there at the back of the room.
“Who is this going out to?”
Pao En-fu answered him. “To the top fifty, Chieh Hsia. All four of the main channels are carrying it. She’s bought five twelve-minute slots on each. The estimated viewing figures are four hundred million up.” Wu Shih looked down, then nodded. “Clever,” he said. “And dangerous. We must stop this, Pao En-fu. Get the Heads of all four channels on for me.” His Chancellor, Fen Cho-hsien spoke up. “Is that wise, Chieh Hsia? A matter like this ... if we ban it, will that not merely serve to give it the air of credibility it needs? After all, the idea is a preposterous one. That people should send in their money to the richest woman in America! Besides, why should they care what happens down below? In all my experience the Above has never done a single thing to help those less fortunate—less elevated—than themselves. Why in the gods’ names should they start now?”
Wu Shih answered him sharply, angry that his Chancellor could not see the danger. “Because the times have changed, Master Fen! And because that woman is very clever. Very clever indeed. Did you not see how she angled it? No word of blame, nothing about their greed and selfishness. No. She worked them, Master Fen, like the most devious of whores. Loss and guilt. Fear and the hope of a golden future. Trees and skulls. Lamps and tormented faces. All of it thrown together and salted with snippets of the Way.”
He grimaced. “Why, the she-fox is at her husband’s business, I’ll wager. Why should he make such a public parting with Kennedy—why quit the NREP—unless he had his own ambitions? No. . .I’d wager five yuan to every one they collect that that is what this is. He plans a new campaign, a new party, and this is how he means to fund it.” Pao En-fu, who had been hovering in the doorway, awaiting his master’s final decision, now spoke. “But Lever is a rich man, Chieh Hsia. Why should he need any further backing?”
“Because his wealth is all tied up, Master Pao. The Cutler Institute, business loans, extended trade agreements. ImmVac is extremely vulnerable right now. Any further calls upon its funds might bring about its fall. No. Lever is neither naive nor the simpleton some of his critics make him out to be. He’ll be behind this, you can be sure of it.” Chancellor Fen was smiling now. Wu Shih looked to him, curious. “Well, Fen?”
“I was only thinking, Chieh Hsia . . . What better reason not to cancel the broadcasts? If we can prove that connection, if we can show that this ‘Eldest Daughter’ fund is being used to float a new party, what better way to destroy Lever and his ambitions?”
“I thought you said it would not work!”
“I am sure it won’t, Chieh Hsia. I think the natural greed of the Above will show itself. But why don’t we wait and see? Surely one victory is enough for you today, my lord?”
Wu Shih laughed, delighted by the reminder. His swift action today had crushed the Black Hand. It would be months, years perhaps, before they regrouped in any strength. What’s more, it had brought him nothing but praise throughout the Middle and Upper levels of the City. So maybe Fen Cho-hsien was right. Maybe he shouldn’t meddle in this, but should leave it to fail of its own accord. And in the meantime he could do as Fen suggested and investigate just where any funds were headed. “All right,” he said, smiling at his Chancellor. “We’ll do as you suggest. But let’s monitor it closely, Master Fen. As I said, she’s a clever woman, and there’s nothing so troublesome as a clever woman, neh?” There was laughter, yet as Wu Shih left to go to his rooms, he felt a strange dissatisfaction at the decision, as if he had overlooked some vital point. And even as Wei-kou began to massage his back, trying to ease the tension from his muscles, some part of his mind still gnawed at the problem, refusing to leave it be.