“I’m not following you. It’s obvious to me that if I think that lake is beautiful then it is beautiful; that’s all our emotions are.” She really didn’t want to get into a philosophical discussion. She barely passed that class and hated every subjective minute of it.
“No, deeper than that. It’s when we think that whatever state we happen to find our world in when we become philosophically aware must be the state we keep it in. Even though the world changed naturally leading up to this understanding, we think we shouldn’t allow it to progress any further.”
“I really don’t want to talk about this, Cole.”
“It’s important if we’re going to get out of here.”
“Why leave?” She threw her one good arm up. “Where could we go that’s better than this? Let’s say I clear things up with the Navy, run a shuttle or courier service for the next forty years. You know what I’d want to do with the money I saved? I’d want to come build a house right over there and live the rest of my days strolling through these forests and swimming in that lake and collecting bugs.”
Cole frowned at her; she’d never seen him look so sad. “That sounds great. Really, it does. But they wouldn’t let you build that house ’cause it’d destroy the look of the shore. They wouldn’t let you walk the same path every day because you’d trample the soil. And if you deviated from whatever they calculated the ‘norm’ was, they’d kill you with a vote. I’m sorry, and trust me, I’ve gone through the same emotions over the last day, and I hate that you have to do it with less time, but we need to finish this conversation.”
Molly shook her head. “This talk is worse and more confusing than being in prison on Palan was.”
“That’s an exaggeration.”
“Yeah, a little,” she admitted, but not smiling. “Okay, forget the philosophy stuff. Even if we assume that our survival depends on getting away from this paradise, how do we fly away from them if my ship is being dismantled and they can control it from orbit anyway?”
“Simple,” said Cole. “We start a war.”
“We do what?!”
“Hear me out: not every Glemot agrees on what balance to fight for. Hell, not every Campton agrees with one another. Just like with humans, it takes a strong leader to keep order here. Franklin is getting old, even by their standards, I think, and the Leefs have been making some progress with getting their technology going again.”
“How did they ever lose their technology in the first place?”
“Campton’s rebels. They created all kinds of anti-tech technology. EMPs that fry electronics. Little micro-bots that eat away specific metals. But their guiding principles meant every victory against the Leef technology required them to ratchet down their own. They try to control the spread of tech using the simplest tools required. As long as they stay one step ahead, they can remain there. They’ve almost progressed back to the stone age from a starting point that was beyond our own technology. That’s why you woke up in a tent with a balm on your arm instead of a high-rise hospital full of beeping things.”
“It’s hard to argue with the result,” Molly said, sweeping her arm at the vista around them.
“Now you’re the one bringing up the ‘philosophy crap’ you hate so much. Yes, this is beautiful. We have parks on Earth that look like this. But we also have Mozart and Dali and Spengle and T’chuyn and even the Drenard sculptor Tadi Rooo. We can admire the cosmos and the atom. We have a diversity of beauty that’s just as natural as this.” He also waved his hand at the scenery.” He paused. “I’m sorry to be so strident here. I honestly hope we can discuss this in detail one day, and we can both see neither extreme is tenable. Right now, though, I want to devise a plan that wins us that day.”
Molly nodded. She turned her head away from the beauty of the lake and looked up the hill. But there was no escaping the sensual pleasure of being here.
She listened as Cole got into the meat of his plan. Molly felt detached from it all but was able to point out some tactical flaws. She agreed it would work as long as the dozen or so various “ifs” they foresaw were the only ones that existed. And of course, a lot depended on the Glemots.
Maybe too much.
Molly had hoped she’d be able to chew on the tragedy of this place over dinner, but the event turned out to be too much of a distraction. Without exaggeration, the meal she had that night was one of the highlights of her life thus far.
Most of the food varieties on Glemot were the common forms of energy storage found all over the universe, the biological shortcuts nature was fond of taking. But each example was full of a rich vitality that knew no Earth equal. There were analogies to familiar foods, but no comparing the quality.
The main course, a species of large fish, had been roasting all day over a low fire. Encrusted with a thick layer of spices, it made Molly think of cinnamon, sage, and some sort of tangy pepper. The powerful combination was offset by a sweet cream slathered over top, much like Earth honey. Small shapes of cut fruit were arranged to the side and little berries dotted the plate. The berries looked hard, but they dissolved in her mouth, bursting with a fresh sweetness so unusual, it tasted like a primary color. Molly couldn’t believe her taste buds could be tickled in such an alien way.
Also on the side were large vegetables boiled creamy-soft and infused with something woody and citrus, like hickory and lime, only different. The combination, strange and intoxicating, delighted her. She followed these nibbles with bites from a large salad, each of its dozen constituent parts a unique meal on their own. A bowl of nuts passed by; the Glemots picked through these choosily, hunting for their favorites.
The Glemot distaste for furniture meant Molly and Cole were not uncomfortable around the dinner “table.” The entire tribe gathered around dozens of cloth mats, the pups getting up and rushing about to serve the adults each course in turn.
Every murmur of delight from Molly brought appreciative smiles from the Glemots, especially those who had helped prepare the meal. Then she noticed the look on Cole’s face and realized her joy just made this harder on him. She tried to contain herself. This became easier when a female across from Cole, out of nowhere and with a calm voice, let him know that Walter would be “naturalized” in the morning. She watched him fight any change in his behavior. He continued to smile and converse and chew his food thoughtfully, but she had felt it since their walk: Cole was wearing a thin veneer of compliance over a core of rage.
Thinking about Walter soured the meal for Molly as well. She picked at her food distractedly, still ended up eating too much, and retired as soon as the first Glemot from their mat rose. She and Cole carried their stone plates down to a brook to rinse them off.
“Cole?”
He looked around to see if any of the Glemots could hear them. Several were heading their way and would be within earshot in moments. “Yeah?”
“What if we went to the other side of the planet? Just got away from the war between these two tribes?”
Cole gave her a sad look, one he’d successfully concealed for most of the day. But Molly could see it vividly—even in the pale starlight.
“They’re all at war,” he said. He looked out over the lake, its calm surface reflecting the stars perfectly. It was like a hole in the planet through which the cosmos could be seen. “War is natural,” he added, with disgust.