Chapter 53

The morning transmission began as tumultuously as Meiersdottir had expected. Toshimura, in particular, was outraged that she had departed so drastically from their plans aboard the Gardener, and spent the first two minutes expressing that with phrases like "cover-up" and "betrayal of trust" and "high-handed unilateral decision-making" sprinkled liberally throughout his tirade.

"All right, John," she said when he finally began to run out of words, "but that's something I don't want to discuss with you right now."

"What?" he fairly screamed at her.

"I haven't anything to say," she repeated. "Carlos is concerned about little pitchers."

"Little whats?" he yelled again.

"Little pitchers," she said distinctly.

"They have big ears," she could hear someone murmur to Toshimura in the background. "You mean they can overhear you?" the sociologist asked in a milder tone.

"He thinks it's possible."

In fact Igwanda was considerably less concerned about that than he had been. Many of the battles in which he'd participated back on Earth had taken place in bucolic settings similar to the pavilion meadow, and he had become adept at reading the mute language of nature. Almost as soon as he awakened he observed the slightly crushed foliage the eavesdropping native had left in his wake. It told him both that the Edenites were indeed suspicious of their story, since this was the first morning he had seen such signs, and that their hearing was not sufficiently acute to pick up normal conversation from any place of daytime concealment on the meadow's fringes, since otherwise there would have been no need for the eavesdropper. He had not, however, mentioned this to Meiersdottir, partly to avoid worrying her and partly to give her an excuse to close the topic promptly; rehashing what was already done would only serve to waste time.

In the last he was quite successful. It's extremely frustrating to attempt to pick an argument with someone who refuses even to discuss the subject matter; fairly soon the would-be arguer is reduced to simply reiterating the same points, often in more or less the same words, and begins to feel foolish. It took Toshimura only another minute or two to reach that point, and Meiersdottir was able to redirect the session along more productive lines.

"All right," she said briskly, "when we were interrupted by Bernard's accident"—she emphasized the last—"we were looking at the matter of possible exploitation. I'd like to pick up from there and get your ideas on the subject before Carlos and I call to Joe and Akakha."

It took more than an hour before they could reach a rough agreement on the question. There was general acknowledgment that the collective's vulnerability to the interference signal made it impossible for the Edenites to effectively resist armed takeover and subsequent military occupation, even enslavement, provided that humankind was willing to bear the heavy economic burden.

"We'll need to win over public opinion back home on that one," summarized Toshimura. "But it's a big help that, for now at least, there's no motivation for the expense of that kind of action. It also seems to me the same factors would effectively prevent any repetition of what happened yesterday, especially since we should be able to roll up most of that 'Humans-First Movement' when we get back and report."

Economic exploitation, on the other hand, was largely preventable in the opinion of most of the scientists. Because of Eden's biochemical incompatibility with Earth there would certainly be no "land boom" on the planet, nor significant Earthly demand for its natural harvest. Nor, given their primitive state of development, would any goods produced by the natives find a significant market among humans.

"Oh, there'll be some interest in Eden-made things as curios," Toshimura said. "But they seem to have no art at all, they don't use color, and nobody's going to declare them latter-day Gaugins. The cost of hauling stuff back from here would make prices for this non-art prohibitive even for the few who can afford it."

The one area in which anyone could envisage a significant economic interest in Eden lay with the natives themselves. "That collective mind of theirs may be the most powerful computer in the universe; it certainly outstrips anything we've got," said Komosaki. "I don't quite see how you could bring it to bear, since it would require so much input to bring them up to speed on any problem of consequence, but maybe somebody will figure that one out." On the other hand, everyone agreed that such an endeavor would require the active cooperation of the Edenite collective, which appeared to rule out any effective form of coercion.

"What we really need, then, is simply to give the Edenites a basic education in human economics," Meiersdottir concluded. "That was the downfall of the native Americans, the Africans, the Australian aborigines and so on; they simply had no grasp of how European economics worked. I think we also need to encourage them not to become dependent on human-produced goods, but they already seem to have that idea themselves. They've said they don't want our stuff, instead they're asking us to teach them how to produce it for themselves. If trade between Eden and Earth is held principally to ideas and not physical goods, the opportunities for effective exploitation seem to be minimal."

"Sounds right to me," Toshimura replied. "And I think to all of us."

"Which brings us," Heisinger interjected, "back around to a rather key question: when is it that some of us are going to be able to join you there on the planet?"

"Soon, Gustav-the-Impatient," said Igwanda in an uncharacteristically light tone. "Within the hour, I would hope. Amanda and I need to meet with the Edenites and assess their mood, but I do not expect problems. Assuming all is well, I would anticipate ordering the lander to depart within a fairly short time. You will have the transmission available as always, so you will know quickly how matters fare."

"One more thing, all," said Meiersdottir. "I know this is going to sound a little peculiar, but we now have an established program for the social education we're going to be presenting. I have to ask that nobody deviate significantly from that without previous consultation. No ad-libbing, that is."

She could hear a burst of laughter over the communicator. "No ad-libbing?" came Toshimura's voice. "This from you, after going off on repeated flights of fancy for the past several days?"

"John, you know the difference," she said sharply. "Carlos and I were the only ones talking to them, and we were doing it together. There was no possibility of contradiction, of confusion. Now there'll be multiple conversations involving different individuals, and it's not the same. We need to present a united front, we humans. I'll consult too, anyway with those here on the surface, but we can't offer them multiple points of view, not right away. We need to agree on how we'll say things, what we'll do and won't do. Technical stuff is fine—the how-to's they really want—but we have to keep to a collaborative standard with all of us talking directly, OK?"

"This is highly unreasonable and unprofessional," interjected Heisinger. "You've used your presence there to unilaterally present a specific view—your view, your own personal approach to this. Now you require the rest of us to adhere to that unless we consult with you first and secure your agreement. Amanda, you don't own this mission, you can't take it over as a dictatorship."

"Bullshit, Gustav," she said with irritation. "I'm not telling you how to go into biology. I'm not dictating how anybody presents astronomy, or physics, or any other friggin' thing. I'm head of the sociology contingent here, I've consulted with John in particular and all of you in general on all but two occasions, and only one is still a relevant point and that only to the extent of non-contradiction. And all I'm asking is that you don't mess with my program any more than I'll mess with yours. Now put your ass back where you can sit on it and then do that and spin."

Heisinger gave a dramatic sigh. "All right, Amanda, you are correct. I apologize again. My—our—frustration here has been extreme. But OK."

"Oh, hell, of course OK," replied Toshimura. "It's just— dammit, I'm jealous, too. You got to make all this stuff up on your own, and now we can't do the same, we have to hew to the company line—really to your line, the one you've set in motion. It seems sort of unfair."

"Momma never said life was fair," she said lightly. "Sorry and all that, but we're also the ones who've been risking our lives down here, and that wasn't fair in another way, either."

"True. All right then, but how do we effectively consult when they're listening in?"

"They will not be, John, if you keep it down to a dull roar," Igwanda interjected. "I have solid cause to believe that, after all, they cannot hear from a distance. Quiet discussions are quite secure within reason, and we can shift to other languages for sensitive matters."

"You might have said that earlier, Carlos," came from Toshimura. "I had a lot more to say— oh, hell, that's why you didn't speak up, isn't it? All right, then. But dammit, no more unilateral stuff from you two either, then, OK?"

"Right," said Meiersdottir. "The whole landing party has equal voice, and we'll consult back to the Gardener whenever possible, too. Acceptable?"

"Acceptable," Heisinger responded. "But you might want to make the consultation 'possible' a little more often than you have, Amanda."

"I will when I can, Gustav. But do any of you really question that Carlos and I had to make the decisions we did on the spot?"