Chapter 28

Meiersdottir did indeed consult with Shaw privately late in the day, for nearly an hour, about the next day's ship meeting. She invited Igwanda to accompany her, but he declined. "This is for you, my love," he told her. "Given my new responsibilities it would be inappropriate for me to be privy to what is said." He chose instead to spend his time with his son.

The boy was ready for a nap by the time she returned, and they put him down.

"It is remarkable how much time he spends sleeping," the colonel observed to his wife.

"Well, it's a tiring life for a child," she said. "It's all new to them, so they're learning ­every minute they're awake, and meantime their bodies are busy growing. Wish he'd spend more sleeping time in the nights, though." Igwanda laughed and nodded agreement.

"Oh, by the way, Carlos, Miller signed," she went on. "He started to balk about the confession as you might expect, but Bernard told him it was all three or none and said time was up, the log had to be done, so he caved."

"You left him little choice."

"I didn't intend to," she said. "In a way I wish he hadn't, signed I mean, I'd have loved to see that son of a bitch get what was coming to him when we got back, but it would have been awfully messy. This is better, cleaner, and we're shut of him."

"You did caution Bernard about keeping weapons away from him."

"Oh, sure," she confirmed. "But that won't be much of an issue for a while, he's going to be pretty immobile for a good long time."

"As was my intention," said Igwanda. She blew him a kiss, then thought better of it and walked over to make it a real one.

The next day's meeting started off with a difference as Igwanda walked in leading his troops. Under Miller they'd previously attended none of the general gatherings but, as the colonel told them, "you are part of the Gardener's complement too." He'd added, though, that it would be best if they didn't participate too actively, "at least for this session." They sat as a group while Igwanda walked forward to join Shaw and Meiersdottir on the podium.

Shaw simply called the meeting to order and turned it immediately over to Meiersdottir.

"OK, guys, let's get to it," she said. "You all know what happened to me down there. To me and my baby." Meier was napping for the moment, watched over by one of the technicians who was viewing the session on the shipboard monitors; this time Hill needed to also be at the meeting. "Neither of us was hurt in any way, but we might have been, they did threaten us, and we were held prisoner.

"So our main goal here today is to decide where we want the rest of this trip to go. All options are on the table, and I'm going to throw it open right now, let us hear from you."

"Are we going to vote at the end?" called out James van Arsdale, one of the physicists.

"I don't know, Jimmy, why, you planning on running for office?" she cracked. As she'd intended, there was general laughter, relieving a little of the tension that had pervaded the group. "We may vote, we may not have to, let's see where it goes. But folks, let's don't just shout out from now on, raise your hand and wait to be recognized, will you? OK, now, who wants to start off? Buddy, you had your hand up first," she said, pointing to Plantz.

"Can you tell us what's the situation down there now?" the agronomist asked. "I mean, with their war and all."

"The war's over without a shot fired," she said. "And I can pretty well promise you there won't be another, not while we're here anyway. I know it's a little hard for you to understand how the Edenites' telepathy works, but it's not just mind-reading, they all come together to think as a single collective entity. It was just that they deliberately split up into two groups too far apart—physically, I mean—for their instantaneous thought transfer to work. So the groups got crossways and it got out of hand, but that's been dealt with."

"Why can't the same thing happen again?" persisted Plantz.

"Because I'm pretty sure they won't allow it to," she replied. "As a collective they're probably smarter than we are, they're intensely logical, and they learn faster than any human I've ever known. They screwed up once trying something they'd never done before—splitting up—and they'll learn from their mistakes. Besides, if, as and when we get back down, Terry and I will know what to look for and we won't let it happen again. Jack," she called, pointing to Mantegna.

"What does that mean for our security down there?" he asked.

Igwanda stood up. "That one, I believe, falls in my province. As I think most of you are aware, Captain Shaw has asked me to take over command of our military protection in light of Maj. Miller's infirmity, and the major has concurred.

"There are improvements we can make to our arrangements in terms of security, and I am making them," he continued. "But there are also limits to how far our reach may extend. We have a complement of but fifty on board the ship, and fewer will be on planet at any given time. The natives number to several thousands. Our technological superiority in weaponry is vast, but we are not invincible even with all weapons at ready, nor can we effectively cluster together in a full defensive array. So I must tell you that your safety cannot be fully guaranteed if the Edenites re-initiate hostilities."

That evoked a good deal of murmuring. The colonel had warned his wife beforehand that he intended to be ultra-conservative at the session. "They will all have concerns," he said. "Bet­ter for them to be voiced by one with knowledge of the situation than to allow only vaguely conceived fears to run riot." She'd agreed.

"But hostilities are pretty unlikely, wouldn't you agree, Carlos?" put in Shaw.

He appeared to consider for a moment. "I would not foresee it," he admitted. "But then I did not foresee Amanda's detention, nor either of the conflicts on our last visit. In all honesty I cannot rule it out. Any who set foot on Eden must recognize that they run some risk, perhaps small but still finite, to their lives and well-being."

There was more consternation. Finally geologist Martha Kaminsky raised her hand.

"I don't know about anyone else," she said, "but this has got a lot heavier than what I signed up for. I think we all thought the planet was peaceful now, and we haven't even been here a week and all this has happened already. Is it worth continuing?"

"Anything can happen when you're on the cutting edge, Marty," said Meiersdottir gently. "It's the price for going new places, doing new things, things nobody's ever done before. The ones who man the other interstellar explorers, they have it even worse, they're going into the completely unknown. At least we have a pretty good idea of what we'll find down there."

"Amanda, we're not on one of the other ships, and speaking for myself I wouldn't be," Kaminsky persisted. "They volunteer for that, knowing they're risking their lives. I have a husband at home, and a child. He and I agreed on my coming here, but we never thought there'd be any real risk on the planet and I don't think either of us would have been up for it if we'd felt there was. I know I wouldn't. I'm sorry, but now I'm scared. When our time's up here I want to get back home." The last came out in a strangled tone as she choked back a sob.

There were murmurs of agreement scattered through the meeting chamber, and chemist Garcia, who was sitting next to Kaminsky, reached over in sympathy and grasped her hand.

"Marty, we all want to get back home," Meiersdottir told her. "We all expect to get back home. I know I do. Certainly what happened has to give us all pause. But let me ask the question, not a vote"—she cast a small smile at van Arsdale—"just a straw poll, how many of you are ready to go back down now, hands?"