“Why talk with me?”
Mendoza leaned toward me, arm straight, hand splayed on the bench, as if about to relate some intimacy. “Like me, you have no enhancements and you haven’t gone through the secular purification of therapy. You’re old-fashioned. I can sympathize with you. I’ve read your lit papers and student theses. I sense strongly that you belong to the next generation of leadership on Mars.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get involved with politics again,” I said.
“Nonsense,” Mendoza said with a flash of anger. “Mars can’t afford to lose people like you. And it cannot afford to rely on people like your uncle.”
I grimaced.
“Do you realize how important the next few years are going to be?” Mendoza asked.
I did not answer.
“I don’t know half what I’d like to know,” Mendoza said.
“You may eventually know more than I do. You can be at the center of one of the nodes, the teams, in this particular patch of history; I’ll always be on the periphery, a messenger boy. But I do know this: people above me are terrified. I’ve never seen such confusion and disagreement — even the thinkers disagree. Do you see how extraordinary that is?”
I stared at him, the static gone.
“Something frightfully powerful is going to be unleashed. Science does that to us every few generations — drops something in our laps we’re simply not prepared for. You’d think today we’d be prepared for almost anything. Well, at least the folks and thinkers on top see clearly enough that we have to get our house in order, and they’d like to do it before the Big One drops — whatever it might be.”
The deep realization of what had until now been gamesmanship and speculation made my stomach churn.
“If our house is not in order, and there is a chance of some immature and youthful group of humans discovering and using this new power — whatever it is… Leaders above the Beltway, in Seattle and Tokyo and Beijing , believe there is a chance we will destroy ourselves.”
Mendoza frowned deeply, as if just informed one of his children was very ill. “You know, I’ve been an outcast of sorts in Washington for a decade. I’m a Mormon, I’m not therapied. But I’ve managed to do well. If anybody found out about my talking to you, I could lose everything I’ve fought for, all status, all power, all influence.”
“Why do it, then?” I asked.
“Did you know it’s illegal to conduct surveillance — -even citizen oversight — within the capital of any nation on Earth?”
I had heard that.
“Some things in government must be done in private. Even in this ultra-rational age, when everybody is educated and plebiscites are huge and immediate, there must be times when the rules are not followed.”
“The Peterson non-absolute,” I said. Peterson — icon of so many second-form classes in management — said that any systern aspiring to total organization and rationalism must leave itself an opportunity to break rules, break protocol, or it will inevitably suffer catastrophic failure.
“Exactly. Go home, Miss Majumdar. Choose your mentors and your leaders carefully. Work for unity. However Mars comes into the fold, come in it must. I have studied enough history to see the terrain ahead. The slopes are very steep, the attractors are strong, the solutions very fast — and none of them are pleasant.”
“I’m just an assistant,” I replied pathetically.
He looked away, expression grim. “Then find someone who has the strength to become a pilot and guide you through the storm.” He pulled back and adjusted his lapels, picked up his lunch bag, and stood. “Good-bye, Miss Majumdar.”
“Good-bye,” I said. “Thank you for your confidence.”
Mehdoza shrugged and walked across the grass and east toward the Capitol building.
I sat on the bench, head turned toward the Lincoln Memorial, as cold inside as the curve of marble beneath my fingers.
A month later, Bithras, Allen, and I packed for our return to Mars. The packing itself took little time. I had not seen Bithras for several days — he spent most of his time locked in long-distance communications with Mars, but I think also in deliberate isolation from us.
Allen no longer treated Bithras with the respect due an elder statesman. It cost him dearly to show any respect at all toward our syndic. Bithras did not want to push me into a similar confrontation and be faced with my presumed negative judgment.
But I did not hate him. I barely felt enough to pity him. I simply wanted to go home. Two days before our departure, Bithras came into the suite’s living room and stood over me as I sat in a chair, studying my slate.
“The suit against me has been dropped. Cultural differences pleaded. The ruckus is over,” he said. “That part of it, anyway.”
I looked up. “Good,” I said.
“I’ve filed suit on Alice ’s behalf,” he said. “Majumdar BM seeks a judgment against Mind Design Incorporated of Sorrento Valley , California .”
I nodded. He swallowed, staring out the window, and continued as if it were an effort to talk. “I’ve consulted with Alice One and Alice Two, and with our advocates on Mars, and I’m hiring an advocate here. We’re seeking a jury trial, with a minimum of two thinkers impaneled on the jury.”
“That’s smart,” I said.
Bithras sat in the chair opposite and folded his hands in his lap. “All of this has been done in confidence, but before we leave, I am going to release the details. That will force Mind Design to take the case to court rather than settle in secret. It will be scandalous. They will deny all.”
“Probably,” I agreed.
“It will be very bad for GEWA, as well. Our advocate will voice suspicions that Earth is involved in a conspiracy, using Mind Design, to cripple Mars economically.” Bithras sighed deeply. “I have made mistakes. It is only small relief to believe they have done worse. Alice Two will stay here.”
“Good plan,” I said.
“Someone should stay with her. Allen has volunteered, but I thought to offer the chance to you.”
“I should leave Earth,” I said without hesitation.
“We have both had enough of Earth,” Bithras said. Then, dropping his gaze, “You think I’m a fool.”
My lips worked and my eyes filled with tears of anger and betrayal. “Y-yes,” I answered, looking away.
“I am not the best Mars has to offer.”
“I hope to God not,” I said.
“I have given you opportunities, however,” he said.
I refused to meet his eyes. “Yes,” I agreed.
“But perhaps disgrace, as well. The Council will conduct hearings. You will be asked embarrassing questions.”
“That isn’t what makes me so angry,” I said.
“Then what?”
“A man with your responsibilities,” I said. “You should have known. About your problems and the trouble they might cause.”
“What, and have myself therapied?” He laughed bitterly. “How Terrestrial! How fitting a Martian should suggest that to me.”
“It happens on Mars all the time,” I said.
“Not to a man of my heritage,” he said. “We are as we are born, and we play those cards, and none other.”
“Then we’ll lose,” I said.
“Perhaps,” he said. “But honorably.”
I said my farewells to Alice in the suite an hour before we left for the spaceport. For a time, Alice had withdrawn, refusing to answer our questions about her contamination. She would not even talk with the advocate chosen for our lawsuit, or his own thinker. But that changed, and she seemed to accept her new status — a beloved member of the family who could not be employed as she had once been.