“You work for a big financial Binding Multiple. Rather, you’re part of the family, right, Casseia?“ Her voice, colored by a melodious southern accent, drifted warm and concerned in the thick air.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
“You’re under pressure… You’ve been summoned to testify before Congress, but for one reason or another, you’ve been shunted to another rail.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
“Why?”
I looked at Ori. “I really can’t reveal family matters here, ma’am. Ori — Orianna brought me here without telling me why. I’m honored to meet you, but…” I trailed off, embarrassed.
Muir tilted her head back. “Someone in the alliances has decided Mars is an irritant, and I can’t guess why. You simply don’t mean that much to the United States , or to GEWA or GSHA or Eurocom or any of the other alliances.”
Orianna frowned at me and looked back at Muir’s image. “My father says there isn’t a politician on Earth you can trust, except Danielle Muir,” Orianna said.
My level of skepticism rose enormously; I’ve always bristled when people ask for, much less demand, trust. Face to face with a ghost, an illusory representative of someone I had never met in person, I simply would not let myself bestow trust it was not my right or station to give.
On the other hand, much of what we were doing was public knowledge — and there was no reason not to carry on a conversation at that level.
“Martians have stood apart from Solar System unification,” I said.
“Good for you,” Muir said, smiling foxily. “Not everybody should knuckle under to the alliances.”
“Well, it’s not entirely good,” I said. “We’re not sure we know how to unify. Earth expects full participation from coherent partners. We seem to be unable to meet their expectations.”
“The Big Push,” Muir said.
“Right,” Orianna said.
“That seems to be part of it.”
Muir shook her head sadly. “My experience with Martians when I was President was that Mars had great potential. But this Big Push could get along nicely without you. You’d hardly be missed.”
I felt another burn. “We think we might have a lot to contribute, actually.”
“Unwilling to participate, but proud to be asked, proud to have pressure applied, is that it?” Muir said.
“Not exactly, ma’am,” I said.
Her face — the face of her image — hardened almost imperceptibly. Despite her warm tone and friendly demeanor, I sensed a chill of negative judgment.
“Casseia, Ori tells me you’re very smart, very capable, but you’re missing something. Your raw materials and economic force count for little in any Big Push. Mars is small in the Solar System scheme of things. What can you contribute, that would be worth the effort Earth seems to be willing to expend on you?”
I was at a loss for an answer. Bithras, I remembered, had been wary of this explanation, but I had swallowed it uncritically.
“Maybe you know something you can’t tell me, and I don’t expect you to tell me, considering your responsibilities and loyalties. But take it from an old, old politician, who helped plant — much to my regret — some of the trees now bearing ripe fruit. The much-ballyhooed Big Push is only a cover. Earth is deeply concerned about something you have, or can do, or might be able to do. Since you can’t mount an effective military operation, and your economic strength is negligible, what could Mars possibly have, Casseia, that Earth might fear?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Something the small and weak can do as well as the large and the strong, something that will mean strategic changes.
Surely you can think of what that might be. How could Mars possibly threaten Earth?“
“We can’t,” I said. “As you’ve told me, we’re weak, insignificant.”
“Do you think politics is a clean, fair game played by rational humans?”
“At its best,” I said lamely.
“But in your experience…”
“Martian politics has been pretty primitive,” I admitted.
“Your uncle Bithras… Is he politically sophisticated?”
“I think so,” I said.
“You mean, compared to you, he seems to be.”
My discomfort ramped. I did not like being grilled, even by my social superiors. “I suppose,” I said.
“Well, politics is not all muck, and not always corrupting, but it is never easy. Getting even rational people from similar backgrounds to agree is difficult. Getting planets to agree, with separate histories, widely different perspectives, is a political nightmare. I would hesitate to accept the task, and yet your uncle seems to have jumped in with both feet.”
“He’s cautious,” I said.
“He’s a child playing in the big leagues,” Muir said.
“I disagree,” I said.
Muir smiled. “What does he think is really going on here?”
“For the moment, we accept that Earth needs Mars… prepared for some large-scale operation. The Big Push seems as likely as anything.”
“You truly believe that?”
“I can’t think of any other reason.”
“My dear, your planet — your culture — may depend on what happens in the next few years. You have a responsibility I don’t envy.”
“I’m doing my very best,” I said.
Muir hooded her gray eyes. I realized that she had asked me questions as one politician to another, and I had given her inadequate answers.
Orianna regarded me sadly, as if she had also discovered the weaknesses of a friend.
“I don’t mean to offend,” Muir said. “I thought we were dealing with a political problem.”
“I’m not offended,” I lied. “Orianna took me all over New York today, and I’m a little stunned. I need to rest and absorb it all.”
“Of course,” Muir said. “Ori, give your mother and father my best wishes. It’s grand to see you again. Good-bye.” Abruptly, we sat facing the blank white wall.
Orianna stood: Her mouth was set in a firm line and her eyes were determined not to meet mine. Finally, she said, “Everybody here acts a little… abrupt at times. It’s the way they experience time, I think. Casseia, we didn’t come here to make you feel inferior. That was the farthest thing from my mind.”
“She chewed on me a little, don’t you agree?” I said quietly. “Mars is not useless.”
“Please don’t let patriotism blind you, Casseia.”
I clamped my mouth shut. No eighteen-year-old Earth child was going to talk down to me that way.
“Listen to what she was asking. She’s very sharp. You have to find out where you might be strong.”
“Our strength is so much more — ” I cut myself off. Than Earth can imagine. Our spiritual strength. I was about to launch into a patriotic defense that even I did not believe. In truth, they were right.
Mars did not breed great politicians; it bred hateful little insects like Dauble and Connor, or silly headstrong youths like Sean and Gretyl. I hated having my face ground into the unpleasant truth. Mars was a petty world, a spiteful and grumbling world. How could it possibly be any danger to vigorous, wise, together Earth?
Orianna glanced at the blank wall and sighed. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I should have talked to you about it first.”
“It’s an honor,” I said. “I just wasn’t prepared.”
“Let’s find Kite and Shrug,” she suggested. “I can’t imagine living here.” She shivered delicately. “But then, maybe I’m old-fashioned.”
We rejoined Kite and Shrug and spent several hours shopping in Old New York, real shops with nothing but real merchandise. I felt doubly old-fashioned — dismayed and disoriented by a district that was itself supposed to be a historical recreation. Kite and Shrug entered an early twenty-one haberdashery, and we followed. An officious clerk placed them in sample booths, snapped their images with a quaint 3-D digitizer, then showed them how they might look in this season’s fashions. The clerk made noises of approval over several outfits. “We can have them for you in ten minutes, if you care to wait.”