“I know.” Georgia grunted, in a tone an octave lower than usual. “We can operate at these temperatures and pressures for a few hours, but now I’m here I’ve decided that I don’t want to, ever again. Like sitting in a kettle and breathing hot onion soup. Are you going to say why you asked me to come here, or is it all still a big mystery?”
“I’ll tell you.” Bey sat down at the table between Rafael Fermiel and Georgia Kruskal. “At least, I’ll tell you part of it. There are things I still have to sort out, and I can’t do most of them until I’m back on Earth.
“I have some bad news for you, Georgia. Some for you, too, Rafael, before you start to gloat. But also some good news for both of you.
“Let me begin where I began: ignorant. Before I came to Mars a couple of months ago I had no idea that there was a war going on here. I only learned it when both sides tried to sign me up as a new recruit. It’s not a shooting war, but it’s still a real battle. Old Mars versus New Mars, the Underworld against the new forms. The territory at stake is the surface of the whole planet. You, Georgia, like it pretty much the way it is. You, Rafael, conceive it as your sacred duty to make it look just like Earth.
“Now, don’t hassle me yet”—the other two were starting to protest—“you’ll get your turn later. First, let me tell you who each of you has as your allies. Maybe you’ll get a surprise or two. You, Georgia. BEC hasn’t been funding you, but they’d do it like a shot if you needed money. Right, Trudy?”
“Right.” Trudy nodded at Georgia. “I’ve been fascinated since I first flew over the surface and learned of your existence. I asked Bey Wolf to learn all he could about you.” She turned to him. “That was genuine, you know, nothing to do with—the other.”
“You can talk about that if you want to—no need to hide any more.” Bey turned back to Georgia. “But I doubt if Trudy is as interested as I am. You are the most intriguing new form I’ve seen in twenty years, even if you are technically illegal. I don’t have BEC’s money, but you can add me to your list of allies.”
“Some things are more important than money.” Georgia’s broad camel’s mouth smirked triumphantly at Rafael Fermiel before she again faced Bey. “You gave me a dozen new ideas in a few hours, things I would never have dreamed of trying. We already have a form- change program for an organic radio transmitter and receiver. We’ll try a tank experiment in the next few days.”
“I’d like to see it. But now, before you get too uppity, let’s talk about the Fermiel camp. First, he has everyone who believes that the Mars Declaration must be honored. You think they are kooks, Georgia, but there are lots of them. They won’t go away. Second, Trudy Melford has been sympathetic to Old Mars and the Underworld. And before you start looking smug, Rafael, let me tell you that the practical motive for that sympathy went away a few minutes ago. If you want Trudy’s support from this point on, you will have to earn it.
“Third, I suspect that you will have my support; but I can’t confirm that until I have a conversation with someone who isn’t here at the moment. Now here’s your bad news, Rafaeclass="underline" even if you have my support, I suspect that you are going to lose part of your funding. You won’t have enough in the future to do anything that you like. I’m thinking especially about the terraforming. It may have to slow down.”
“But the Mars Declaration—”
“Is a piece of paper, like any other. It needs to be interpreted in today’s terms, not those of a century or two centuries ago.”
Rafael Fermiel’s red beard jutted pugnaciously at Bey. “You’ll never persuade the Old Mars policy council of that.”
“Quite right, I won’t. You will. And Georgia Kruskal will help you.”
“Wait a minute.” Georgia rose up from her haunches. “If you think I’m going to work with a bunch of wombats like the Old Mars flapheads—”
“I do. I expect you and Rafael to sit down and work out a way of doing things together. This is one planet, with one future. You can’t both win. You have to cooperate.”
“And if we don’t?”
“Then I’ll make a prediction. No, I’ll make a promise.” Bey stared from one to the other in frustration. “If you two don’t find a way to work together, I’ll pull my own support from both sides, including my technical input on the surface forms. Trudy will take all BEC support away. I’ll do my best to make sure that every cent of outside funding that goes to Old Mars dries up at once. And I’ll set the Office of Form Control going on an investigation of Mars illegal forms.”
Fermiel frowned at Georgia Kruskal. “He’s threatening us—both of us.”
“He can’t do that!” They turned in unison to glare at Bey.
“I can, you know.” Bey stared right back at them. “I just did. God, if you only knew how I hate laying down the law like this to anybody. I’m retired, for God’s sake—and I couldn’t stand this sort of stuff when I wasn’t. The expense of spirit in a waste of shame. There I go again. Sorry, but I’ve had it. Trudy, you’re the Empress. Take over. Bang their heads together, make them compromise. You asked me what I wanted from you, and I’m telling you. Make these two see reason. Me, I’m heading for Earth.”
“You can’t do that!” This time it seemed that everyone in the room spoke in unison. The only exception was Errol Melford, who was still staring in fascination at Georgia Kruskal’s animated snout and wobbling layers of body fat.
“I can.” Bey stood up and started for the door. “It’s my home, I have unfinished business there, and I’m going. Sondra, if you want to see this thing through to the finish you should come with me.”
“What are you going to do?” Sondra hurried after him.
“We’re done with the easy stuff.” Bey turned at the threshold. It was a strange tableau. Everyone was frozen and silent at the table, watching his departure. He nodded to them. The nod said, Don’t waste your time gaping at me, you have work to do. Get to it!” He spun around with Sondra at his side.
“Now we have to tackle the hard part.”
CHAPTER 22
“What you are telling me,” said Sondra, “is that the humanity tests are no damned good.”
“Not quite that.” The fast-moving skimmer was approaching Wolf Island, and Bey was squinting ahead in the late afternoon sun for a first sight of home. “It’s fine in almost every case; but occasionally, maybe one time in a billion, it misses. The trouble is, when it does fail it’s in the worst possible way.”
“Humans are judged non-human?”
“Right. I mean, it’s no big deal if an occasional feral form is passed as human, like the ones in the colonies. That’s a pretty trivial problem.”
Bey ignored Sondra’s outraged gasp of protest. A lopsided pyramid of rock had come into view, jutting above the swelling ocean surface, and he was staring at it with satisfaction.
“It’s the other way round that’s intolerable,” he continued. “Babies, genuine humans with unusual talents and mental powers, dumped into the organ banks. They have odd psych profiles, and when they’re different enough to exceed program tolerances the test judges them non-human.”
“But if that’s true how come no one has ever noticed?” The idea of babies slaughtered and dissected for the organ banks sent chills up Sondra’s spine. “I mean, you’re saying these are unusually smart people.”
“They are. But they’re babies. They never have a chance to prove themselves. And if they were the smartest people in the world, how would we recognize their absence? It’s hard to notice what isn’t there.” Beys manner had become unusually grim. As the skimmer docked the two hounds stood at the jetty, wagging their tails madly. But Bey fondled their heads absently and led the way straight toward the house.