“And?”
“Feels good. But a tad worrisome.”
“What’s to worry?”
She took a long sip. “You remember McCauley?”
“Think so. Big Figjam? Heard you dated for a while.” “Figjam” was an Aussie acronym: Fuck, I’m Good. Just Ask Me.
Kendra chuckled, but wondered who’d had the big mouth. “That’s the one. Well, he’s the face on the anti-Independence movement.”
“How serious is that? I have to admit I’ve been all gaming and training, the last few months.”
“Very serious, Scotty. Luna needs a seat at the table. We’re the ones who’ve made the change.”
“What change is that?”
The string quartet had begun playing again, very stately. Out on the dance floor, a pale balding gentleman in top hat and tails was leading a dozen couples through a graceful series of twirls.
She paused. “Back at the end of the twentieth century, there was a guy named Frank White who wrote about something called the ‘Overview Effect.’ Hear of it?”
“Sort of a long view on Earth because you’re seeing it from space?”
Kendra nodded enthusiastically. “High marks. Look. On Earth, you can actually see only fifty miles or so, up to the curve of the horizon. Psychologically, it’s very easy for corporations, churches or governments to convince you that your little corner of the world is the best place, the only ‘real’ place, and that people off somewhere else are somehow less… human.”
“Wars work that way.”
“And pollution, and economic exploitation, and land grabs. The human race suffered through that for a long time.”
“So? What’s wrong now?”
“Complacency. Earth was headed for trouble-energy and raw materials-before we caught the Second Wave back in 2020.” Efficient fusion, and just in time, too. “And I think that people don’t realize the degree to which every move, every dollar invested, every orchestration of every resource is still guided by our old way of looking at the world. But up here… looking at the Earth, it’s hard not to think of it as an egg, fragile, but destined to give birth to something… else. Something better.”
“Better than Homo sapiens?”
“ Homo interstellar, perhaps.” She winced. Even to her own ears, she sounded a bit evangelical. “I know, I know. But whether I’m right about that or not, it serves Earth just fine for her colonies to stay colonies. To remain children, in effect. But what would have happened to Europe if America had never grown beyond a patchwork of colonies? The United States generated an entirely new vision of human potential, and changed the world. I think that Luna, and the L5s, and the Belt can do the same for Earth, but we have to speak with one voice.”
“Hear, hear,” Scotty said, and raised his glass.
“But things aren’t that simple.”
“They never are.”
“McCauley is backed by a half-dozen concerns-including Cowles Industries, as if you didn’t know. The tendency has been to keep all of the negotiations case-by-case, rather than leveraging everything into a single package. If we stand together, we can change the world. The solar system.” She leaned forward. “The galaxy.”
Scotty felt his right eyebrow tense. “The galaxy? Ain’t that a little grandiose?”
“You’ve read the SETI reports. We still have zero real evidence of nonhuman intelligent life anywhere in the universe. A few amino acids here and there, and something that might have been some kind of fungoid fossil. What if we’re all there is? What if it’s our job to take this green plague and spread it across the stars?”
“The Green Plague.” He laughed, but under the mirth was a touch of unease. “Most people mellow with age. You sound more like a true believer now than when I met you.”
She laughed, and then laid her warm hand on his. Love had never been the problem between them. There had been hurt, but not betrayal or accusation in their parting. “Scotty, the timing of your return either couldn’t have been better, or couldn’t have been worse. I’m really not sure which.” She laughed. “When Mac attacks me, I can deal with it. But these are highly independent, alpha-plus psychological types we’re dealing with. They’d have to be to survive up here. I’m asking them to pull together in ways many of them fled Earth to escape. And their self-image is pure testosterone, believe me. Figjam to say the least.”
“I remember.”
“Then remember how you left.”
He didn’t want to. Once upon a time, the fear and pain had lashed him on a daily basis. To this day he could not simply lie on his back and peer up at the stars as might any schoolboy. They threatened to suck him up into the blackness. And then he knew why Kendra’s eyes were both narrow and moist.
“They’re saying I’m a coward,” he said. “They’re using my accident against you.”
She nodded without speaking. He sighed. “And what do you think, Kendra?”
“I know how you make a living,” she said. “I know you put your life on the line every day that you work.”
He nodded. “But then, that’s not exactly what we’re talking about, is it?”
Her face didn’t move, but he saw reflected in her eyes all the answer he needed. There was a particular variety of nerve necessary to make it up here. And Kendra’s ex-husband, whose name she still carried, didn’t have it. And if the husband lacks courage, what of the wife? Why else would she want to bind us into some singular group, of one will and one word… “Freedom” from people a quarter-million miles distant means tyranny here at home.
Then again, the argument could have been made the other way: Does Kendra secretly want us to keep our apron strings? Does her husband’s cowardice infect her? Will she sell us out to Earth, once we give her power…?
McCauley could attack her two ways with a single premise.
“God.” He squinted, hard. “I hate politics.”
“Me, too,” she said. “But its all we’ve got. Listen, love. Play your game. There will be time for personal talk later. Right now, I’m just glad to see you.”
And it was to her credit, and the strength of the relationship they’d always had, that he actually believed her.
“I should win,” he decided.
“That would be good,” she said. Then grinned wickedly. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
13
Two hours later the music and merriment came to an end. The bald little man called Lord Xavier herded Scotty and the other gamers down a gleaming narrow hallway into a neighboring room. It was another cavernous chamber, lightly decorated, and Scotty had the sense that it was a storage unit of some kind, hastily reconfigured to resemble a hangar.
A thirty-foot grayish metal sphere balanced on four telescoping legs. The surface was covered with little flaps, and at the lowest edge a six-foot door opened onto a ramp.
At the base of the ramp, Xavier turned and faced them. “I present the Cavorite sphere, built to the professor’s specifications. This is the beginning of your adventure. It will take you ten days to make the lunar passage. We will be in contact with you during that time, thanks to our great friend Mr. Tesla. I wish you Godspeed, and good luck.”
He soberly shook each of their hands as they walked the ramp. The small hand within the white glove was soft and warm. Lord Xavier’s eyes were very clear, bright blue and twinkled with mirth. He paused for a moment with Scotty. “Commander Griffin,” he said gravely. “You are not known to me, but your father was. A mighty warrior, and I believe he was simply known as ‘The Griffin,’ was he not? In fact, I know that he distinguished himself highly on missions for my department, and I expect no less from his son.”
Scotty bowed. “He set a very high standard indeed. I will endeavor not to shame him.” And then passed up the ramp.
What was that about? Certainly giving Scotty more reinforcement about his role… the Non-Player Characters had circulated the room, casually mentioning aspects of the players’ backstory, allowing them to springboard their role-playing off the NPCs. A general framework for improvisation, their names and personal histories worked into their new identities.