Out of the corner of her eye she saw Eberly shift unhappily in his chair. Zinged him, she thought.
“The real question, though,” Holly went on, “is how we handle population growth once the ZPG rule is abolished. We all know that uncontrolled population growth could ruin this habitat. On the other hand, that sort of scenario seems kinda remote, far off in the future. After all, we could double our population tomorrow and still have room for plenty more people.
“But the problem is real. We mustn’t grow beyond our means. We don’t want to expand our population so fast that our standard of living goes down. We don’t want to become overpopulated and poor, like so many countries back Earthside did.
“Can we regulate our growth without government rules? Without laws and protocols? I believe we can. I believe we’ve got to, because the alternative is pretty messy.”
Holly glanced at Eberly, then focused back on the cameras. “Now look at the problem from the other side. How can the government stop us from having babies? Is my opponent willing to force women to abort when they get pregnant? Is he going to create a police force that’ll snoop into every bedroom in this habitat?”
With a shake of her head, Holly concluded, “It’s either the one or the other. Either we take the responsibility into our own hands and control population growth through individual responsibility, or we face a police state that’ll put women under surveillance twenty-four seven.”
She looked at Berkowitz, then back at the cameras. “That’s all I’ve got to say. Thank you.”
Berkowitz smiled noncommittally. “Thank you, Ms. Lane. And now,” he turned toward Eberly, “our incumbent chief administrator, Malcolm Eberly.”
Eberly gave his brightest smile to the cameras, plucked a sheet of flimsy from the breast pocket of his tunic and ostentatiously crumpled it in his fist.
“I had prepared an opening statement,” he began, “but in the light of my opponent’s scare tactics, I feel it’s necessary—vital, really—to set the record straight.”
Holly craned her neck slightly to peek at the screen displaying Eberly’s speech. It showed exactly what he was saying, almost word for word. He knew what I was going to say! she realized. He had me figured out before I even opened my mouth. She felt crushed. What chance do I have? He’s way ahead of me all the time.
“I was against the petition to repeal the ZPG protocol, yes, that’s true,” Eberly said smoothly. “I was against it because I didn’t feel it was necessary. I knew, as all of you did, that sooner or later we would lift the ZPG restriction. It was only a matter of time.”
He turned to Holly and gave her a pitying look. “My opponent paints a dire picture of either explosive population growth that swamps our economic capabilities or a police state in which women are held in a sort of reproductive bondage. Nothing could be further from the truth.
“I have pointed out the path to a balanced, fair and free society, a society in which women can choose to have babies because we have the economic growth to match our population growth.”
He paused for a dramatic moment. Then, “That economic growth will come from mining Saturn’s rings. You—the men and women of this community—will become wealthy from selling water to the human establishments on the Moon and the asteroids, on Mars and the other planets.
“I know there have been objections to my plan. I know that the scientists have found microscopic creatures living within the ice particles. But I am certain that we can mine the rings without unduly harming these microbes. The rings are huge, vast, and our mining operations would hardly scratch them.”
Spreading his arms as if in supplication, Eberly said, “We can grow wealthy, and the wealth we generate will support population growth. When the time comes we can build new habitats, new centers of human society that can grow and spread across the solar system or even out toward the stars themselves. The future is in our hands! We don’t have to fear runaway growth or a static, brutal police state. We can be the progenitor of new worlds, worlds that we build with our own hands, our own minds, our own hearts.”
Holly thought she could hear the applause from every household in habitat Goddard.
Estela Yañez watched Eberly on the wall screen of her living room with narrowed eyes. Turning to her husband, sitting on the sofa beside her, she asked, “Is he right? Can they mine the rings without destroying the creatures living there?”
Yañez shrugged elaborately. “Estela, my dear, he is the chief administrator. He has access to much more information on the subject than we do.”
The screen now showed Berkowitz, who was explaining that the candidates would now take questions phoned in from the viewing audience.
“But do you believe him?”
“Why should I not believe him? Do you think he would lie about something so important?”
Estela pursed her lips. “I have seen politicians lie before.”
“Wait.” Yañez held up a hand. “Listen. Someone is asking the same question.”
The screen showed Eberly again, sitting behind the table and smiling benignly.
“Yes,” he was saying, “I know that the scientists want to declare the rings off-limits for mining. But don’t you think that’s an overreaction on their part? After all, the rings contain more than five hundred thousand million million tons of water ice. And how much will we be taking away from that staggering amount? A pittance. A millionth of a percent, at most.”
The caller’s voice insisted, “Yes, but won’t even a small amount kill off the creatures living in the ice?”
Eberly’s smile grew tolerant. “My friend, people have been mining the metals and minerals on Earth for thousands of years. Have they killed off the microscopic bugs that live in those rocks? No, not at all.”
Yañez turned to his wife. “There. You see?”
As the two-hour-long debate wound to its conclusion Holly felt drained, defeated. Eberly had deflected the ZPG issue and turned it into a reinforcement for his scheme to mine the rings. When she’d asked him what he’d do when the IAA forbade mining, he’d smiled and said that he was certain he could negotiate the matter.
“This doesn’t have to be an either/or confrontation,” Eberly said. “I’m certain that, with patience and good will on both sides, we can work out a compromise that will allow us to mine the rings and still allow the scientists to study their bugs.”
Before Holly could rebut, Eberly added, “There’s no need for hysteria or scare tactics.”
Holly had no response for that.
A caller brought up the power outages that still afflicted the habitat sporadically. Eberly smoothly replied:
“Our engineers and computer people have determined that the problem is coming from surges in Saturn’s electromagnetic field. They’ve figured out how to predict the surges, and we’re now setting up protective systems that will eliminate the outages within a few weeks.”
Eberly then winked outrageously for the cameras. “The problem will be solved by election day, I promise you.”
All the calls seemed to be for Eberly. Of course, Holly realized. He’s planted these callers. His people are swamping the phone lines.
“How do we know,” a man asked, “that there’s really a market for water from the rings?”
Beaming as if he’d been waiting for this one all evening, Eberly answered, “You know, I asked myself that very question, a few weeks ago. Are we fooling ourselves by assuming that the settlements on the Moon and the Asteroid Belt and elsewhere will buy water ice from us?”