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The exercise quickly irritated and bored me.
That first hearing, which reached no conclusions, lasted forty-seven minutes.
The next, on the next day, with the same senators, lasted fifteen minutes. We
were given a week's reprieve before the final hearing, and no indication we
would ever meet with the full committee.
So far, Bithras had not been asked to present his proposals. It did not seem
to matter. We had made the crossing to listen to polite but unpleasant banter,
mild implied threats, and remarkably soft questions.
Allen shared a bichem refresh and some beer with me on the evening of the
second hearing; Bithras slept in his room.
"What do you think they're up to?" I asked.
Allen closed his eyes wearily and lay back in the chair, legs stretched full
length. "Wasting our time," he said.
"They don't act as if they have a plan," I said.
"They don't act like much of anything," Allen said.
"It's infuriating."
"No, it's cover," Allen said. "Diversion."
"What do you mean by diversion?" Bithras entered in his pajamas, hair tousled,
rubbing his eyes like a little boy. "Give me some of that," he said, flicking
a finger at the bichemistry supplement. "My joints ache."
"Did we wake you?"
"Behind these walls? It's quiet as a tomb in there. I had a damned nightmare,"
Bithras said. "I hate sims."
We were not aware he had experienced any sims. He sat and Allen poured him a
cup, which he slugged back with some drama. "Yes, all right," he said, "I let
Miriam talk me into sharing a sim with her last night. It was awful."
I wondered what sort of sim they had shared.
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Greg Bear
"We were talking about the hearings," Allen said.
"You mentioned a 'diversion,' " Bithras said. "You think these hearings are a
sham?"
"I have my suspicions."
"Yes?"
"GEWA."
Bithras scowled at Allen. "We've no scheduled meetings with representatives of
GEWA."
"Because we're not worth the bother?" Allen asked.
I was still lost. "What about " I began, but Bithras held up his hand.
"Wang and Mendoza both act as representatives to GEWA for the Senate Standing
Committee," Bithras said. "Majority party and minority."
Allen nodded.
"Gentlemen, you've dusted me," I said.
Bithras turned to me as if to a child. "It has been asserted by some that the
United States is relinquishing its concerns in space to GEWA as a whole.
Binding Multiples having contracts and trade relations with the United States
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will supposedly answer to GEWA authority, directly."
"What difference would that make to us?" I asked.
"GEWA as a whole is far more aggressive toward space exploration than the
United States, and much more involved than any other alliance. But in the
Greater East-West Alliance there are many smaller nations and corporations
with no space holdings whatsoever. They want holdings. If Mars unites, we
would have to establish new relations with GEWA ... Their little partners
would ask that we sell a share of our pie. And they would offer ..." Bithras
pinched his nose and squinched his eyes shut, concentrating. "What ... what
would they offer?"
"Quid pro quo,"
Allen said.
"Quid pro quo.
We provide them a greater share of our participation in Solar System resources
... in return for the alliance not absorbing Mars and its BMs completely."
"As happened to the Moon," Allen said.
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"That's terrible," I said. "You're anticipating this, just because they
haven't asked lots of hard questions?"
Bithras waved his hand. "Little evidences, certainly," he said.
Allen seemed energized by the frightful scenarios. "We couldn't win that kind
of war," Allen said. "If we unite and are pressured to join any alliance,
power in the alliance is based on population "
"Except for the founding nations, such as the United States," Bithras said.
"We'd be bottom of the totem pole." He finished his bichem supplement. Allen
offered him a glass of beer and he accepted. "In fifteen or twenty years,
maybe less, if Alice is correct, ninety percent of the Earth's nations, in
every alliance, will be deeply interested in the Big Push. To the stars."
"Shouldn't we be interested, as well?" Allen said, leaning forward and
clasping his hands in front of him like a supplicant.
"At the price of our planetary heritage, our soul?" Bithras asked.
"The whole human race . . . It's a noble goal," Allen mused.
Bithras took the challenge as if he were fielding a ball. "It would certainly
seem noble, to a world desperate for progress, for growth and change. But we'd
be eaten alive."
"What's the pointT
I asked.
Bithras shrugged. "If this speculation is correct, and if our visit has any
meaning at all, we will be speaking with representatives from GEWA, in
private, before we leave," he said. "The closed Senate hearing is an excuse no
need to go public with policies not yet in place, but also, no need conducting
long-term negotiations ignoring what the situation will be in the future.
Mendoza and Wang are merely pickets. The reason we were summoned here may be a
convenient fiction. We could be caught with our pants around our ankles. I've
come here with a proposal ... But they might try to force us to make a firm
agreement."
200 Greg Bear
He held out his hand and Allen grasped it firmly. "Good thinking, Allen. If I
were them, that's what /
would do."
Staring at the congratulatory handshake, I felt a burn of jealousy. Would I
ever be able to think such convoluted and political thoughts, make such
startling leaps into the unlikely, and impress Bithras?
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I patted Allen on the shoulder, mumbled good night, and went to my room.
The next morning, as I shared coffee in the suite's living room with Bithras,
talking about the day's schedule with Alice, our slates chimed simultaneously.
Allen entered from his room and we compared messages.
All further Senate hearings had been canceled. Informal sessions with senators
and members of congress from various states had all been canceled, as
well except for a single meeting with Mendoza and Wang, scheduled for the end
of our third week.
Suddenly, we were little more than tourists.
The GEWA hypothesis had quickened.
I quickly tired of parties and receptions. I wanted to see the planet, to walk
around on my own, free of responsibilities. Instead, we spent most of our time
meeting the curious and the friendly, making contacts and spreading goodwill.
Miriam, true to her reputation, arranged for us to meet and greet some of the
most influential people in North America.
She arranged a second lavish party paid for by Majum-dar and invited artists,
sim actors, business magnates and heads of corporations, ministers from the
alliances, ambassadors more famous and familiar faces than I had ever imagined
meeting all at once. The LitVids were conspicuously absent; we were to be at
ease, light chatter and fine food, and Bithras was to make his case for a
variety of deals and proposals.
The party was held in Miriam's suite, all the walls and furniture rearranged
for maximum space. We arrived before
MOVING MARS 201
most of the others, and Miriam took me aside with a motherly arm around my
shoulder. "Don't be too impressed by these people," she told me. "They're
human and they're easily impressed. You're an exotic, my dear and you should [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]