Chapter 8

Put any fifty people together in close quarters and mathematics says there are 1,225 possible one-to-one interactions. Some of these interactions are bound to be less than fully satisfactory. But so long as all fifty are targeting a common goal, group mechanics will ordinarily smother the occasional individual rancor.

It was on this basis that SES had learned over the decades it could safely ignore interpersonal dynamics within the crews of its vessels and select the members randomly from its pool of eligibles—with, to the point of the Gardener's voyage, complete success. What SES overlooked in the case of the Gardener, however, was that its crew was neither randomly selected nor whol­ly dedicated to a common goal.

Past missions had been comprised entirely of scientifically oriented supercargo supported by a technical crew likewise focused on scientific exploration. Thirty-eight of the Gardener's complement fit into this comfortably congruent description; but the remaining twelve were entirely disparate. The military contingent led by Igwanda was dedicated to the protection of the balance of the expedition and, as Meiersdottir alone knew but as was also suspected by some of her scientific colleagues, to an assessment of the potential threat posed by the Edenites—and further, as no-one could doubt, might in the discharge of that duty be obliged to inflict severe injury or even death on the very life-forms the others sought to contact.

It was not a happy ship.

The first sign of division on board arose almost immediately when, even before acceleration began, Capt. Ziang announced that the physical fitness facility would be reserved from 0800-1200 hours for military exercises. The first two of these four hours, she added, would be for military personnel only; in the remaining two other interested crew members might join, but subject to military (Igwanda's) discipline and control.

The restriction itself was fairly innocuous; the remaining 20 of the 24 shipboard hours would be free. The psychological impact was not. Scientists of the caliber of those who had been chosen for the Gardener were unused to administrative limitations of any sort on their activities, and immediately got their backs up.

Matters quickly grew incrementally worse. At first a few of the scientists took advantage of the invitation to join the 1000–1200 training sessions, but they were soon dissuaded. The sessions consisted primarily of calisthenics and other rote physical training, Igwanda was a stern taskmaster impatient with those who could not or would not keep up, and few persisted beyond the first couple of ship-days. Meiersdottir lasted longer than most, but even she dropped out when a particular session focused on "personal weapons deployment"—"quick-draw," as it were, of equipment she never wished to see used.

Although they might not have consciously thought of it as retaliation, the scientists by consensus decided that the first on-board general crew meeting would be the optimum occasion for electing their leadership. Not being part of that process, the military contingent found itself rather abruptly ejected from the meeting soon after it began, ending their participation in what had originally been intended as a welcoming session for the crew to get better acquainted with one another.

Underlying these initial clashes, and magnifying their impact in splitting the crew into two camps, was the stereotypic view each held of the other. To the scientists, wedded to what they loftily viewed as the "pure" pursuit of knowledge, the soldiers were at best dull-witted policemen, at worst amoral killers and warmongers. The latter, by turn, saw themselves as down- to-earth realists and the scientists as impractical theoreticians helpless to protect themselves in the world around them.

By the end of the first week the factional split was cemented. At mealtimes soldiers ate with soldiers while the scientists shared their own tables. Recreationally, they likewise pursued separate courses. Personal friendships waxed and waned with the passage of time, but none blossomed across the divide. And each day of this growing self-segregation reinforced itself; privately the scientists were soon referring to their erstwhile military protectors as "burr­heads" (in reference to their militarily short haircuts; the few scientists who had come aboard with unfashionably short hair made sure to let it grow during the voyage), while the soldiers talked among themselves of the "airhead boffins" (the noun an unflattering revival of old-time British slang).

Captain Ziang was no psychologist, but she quickly became aware of the uncomfortable division among her supercargo and did what she could to overcome it. Her efforts to set up recreational competitive tournaments fell flat; mostly no-one signed up, and those that did go off included participants from only one group or the other. She was somewhat more successful in assigning cross-group pairings in the mandatory shipboard survival drills, but while most of the pairings functioned effectively for the drills they quickly drifted apart once their assignments were completed.