"Yes." "Let me run your Director's response." Whiteside appeared, standing on a podium, surrounded by flags and symbols of the Confederacy. "We will be sending the Alberta , with its escort of destroyers and support vessels to assist in any way they can." "Eleven ships," said Ordahl. "Do humans value the lives of their own so cheaply that they cannot bring themselves to get serious about a rescue effort?" "He doesn't speak for me," I said. "He speaks for the Confederacy. He was elected by you, was he not?" "Not by me. By the voters." "Twice, in fact." "Yes." "Then how can you imply he does not represent you?" "Okay, look: In this, he doesn't represent me, and I suspect he doesn't represent a majority of the people across the Confederacy. I don't really know about that, though. I can't speak for them. But they've already started voting with their resources. They're sending food and supplies. Those who have ships have, in large numbers, begun traveling to Salud Afar to lend what assistance they can. "For God's sake, Ordahl, two billion people live out there. There's a plan to save them. If we can get sufficient ships in place. I'm sure you already know about the shield, but let me go over it anyhow for your viewers." I did. I explained, visualized, agonized over, however you want to describe it, the effort that had every potential to succeed, to save a world. I pictured families in parks, and women with children on beaches, and people reading quietly in libraries, and crowds listening to concerts. "Unless the shield can be made to work, all these people will die. You ask me about Whiteside's decision, and you want to hold me responsible for it. That's silly. We have a leader who, for political purposes, or ideological ones-Who really knows?-will play on old animosities and old fears, and will hold the fleet back. He does not speak for me. But I understand why they don't trust the Ashiyyur. And because of that, they'll stand by while a world dies."
"Because of us?"
"They don't trust you. And you're behaving as if the attacks at Pelioz and Seachange never happened." "Those were provoked." "From our perspective, that is not so. And they came without warning." "Chase-" "Look, let's not drag this out of the closet again. All this animosity has gone on for two centuries, and both sides have a lot to answer for. So we're at a point where neither side trusts the other. And because of that, we're about to do something that we'll be answering for as long as there's a human anywhere. And maybe you will, too. "The truth is that Whiteside's decision to keep the fleet at home is pure politics. He knows that the fleet ultimately cannot protect the Confederate worlds. It can only retaliate in the event of attack. The same is true of your force. Defense is not possible against the kind of armament we mount. So it really wouldn't matter whether the fleet was at home or not. It wouldn't save a single world. It only means that retaliation would take a bit longer. And I'd ask Director Whiteside, and the people of the Confederacy, whether that delay of a few weeks is worth the sacrifice of a world. "We and you are the same. Where it matters, there is no essential difference. Plato ranks with Tulisofala. You stage Hamlet . We love our children, as you do. We enjoy the beach in summer, as you do. I was on a beach the other day and swam out to a raft. I wasn't aware that a vooparoo warning had been issued. What was a vooparoo anyway? I had no idea. "But one of your children came out to warn me. To get me off. Even though he couldn't communicate with me. Even though he put himself at risk. Even though he was repulsed by the way I look, he came for me. "He acted. Despite everything, despite even his instincts, he acted. It's what we need to do." I was looking at Ordahl, but I was talking, finally, to Whiteside. "You have an opportunity now to forge a bond between the two species. And you're blowing it, Mr. Director.
"I'm asking you to do what that young male did the other day. You risk nothing except political advantage. Send the fleet."
THIRTY-NINE
Sometimes life is like the sea. You are alone at the edge, trying to hold back the tide. You anchor your feet and you scream against it, but it does not matter. It surges around you. The sand sinks beneath your feet. It will have its way despite all your efforts. They are as nothing, and you are easily swept aside.
- Love You to Death
When it was over, I was trembling. Ordahl adjusted his robe, got up, and said thanks. "You got angry. That's good. I like those who get angry." The female came in with the technicians. They began disassembling equipment. Then they were gone. Alex gave me a hug and told me I'd been brilliant. It felt good to hear that, but it was more or less what he would have said no matter what. Circe took my hand. "Good," she said. "If you're lucky, they won't try to arrest you when you get home." "They'll do some editing, of course," said Kassel. "But I'd say you came across like an eagle." He savored the word, and he looked at me with open admiration. "Thank you. Nothing embarrassing got picked up, I hope?" "I was surprised to discover," said Alex, "that you think mathematicians are sexy." "My God, Alex. That's not true. I've never-" I turned to Selotta. "He's making it up, right? I mean, he didn't even get the mental part." Selotta looked down at me. "Yes, love. Nothing like that happened." "Thank God. Alex, I'm going to shoot you." "We did see some things, though," she continued. "But nothing, I think, that would have embarrassed you. For example, your regret that your father did not live to see what you've accomplished. He died before you got your pilot's license." "That's so," I said. "You think Alex is an especially bright man." Alex kept his face impassive. "That's also true," I said. "Although males provide a fairly low standard." That brought a smile. "And there's someone from several years ago that you are still in love with." "Jerry Crater!" I was horrified. "That got out?" "Afraid so. But it is nothing to be ashamed of." Alex's smile widened. "Good old Jerry, huh?" "Leave it alone, boss." "In any case," he said, "I think we can call it an unqualified success." "Good. But next time you want to volunteer me for something, I'd like to be consulted first."
We watched the show that evening. Twice. First time through I simply listened to my responses. Then we shut down the sound and Selotta translated the telepathic side. It wasn't as bad as I'd expected. In fact, it tracked the dialogue pretty closely. And yes, there were occasional blips in which I thought how my shoes hurt, and how I'd be glad when it was over, and how the interviewer had all the flexibility of a