Chapter 4

They'd been afforded extended leave for family visits, as had others of the Gardener crew, but once those were done all of the returning voyagers found themselves pressed by the SES to sit for extended interviews by the news media, especially the holographic pundits. The Service wanted to maximize the impact of their success, and what better way than to dragoon their explorers—especially the ones who had in mind to return to the planet, and thus needed agency favor—into public relations service?

Igwanda and Meiersdottir found themselves especially in demand, as the two heroic leaders of the expedition and also as the only two who'd had any extended dialogue with the Edenite mothers. Rather than split up, they insisted on taking all interviews together; "We were a team there and we're a team here, it's both or neither," Meiersdottir tartly told the SES p.r. chief when he wanted them to take separate sessions. She was also mindful that it might be better to have her ameliorating influence present to counteract Igwanda's occasional acerbity in the face of what he considered to be stupid questions.

In the early stages that was immaterial. Priority was accorded to the so-called "mainstream" media, who provided softball questions and in general focused on the "gee whiz" factor of humanity's first encounter with a sentient alien species.

Meiersdottir initially took great pleasure in describing the glories of the Edenite nests, though she ultimately wearied of it. Igwanda was asked again and again about the nature of their telepathic interaction, and in the end found himself simply repeating the same words to one interviewer and the next. When it gradually became apparent that even probing questions weren't going to elicit much that hadn't been said before, the leading holographic reporters began to move on to other stories.

But still the invitations to speak kept coming, and SES was reluctant to let the story subside. So they were booked on some of the more marginalized, but still widely watched, shows. Which led to some interesting exchanges.

Such as this one:

"The big question that my audience wants answered is this," said ultra-conservative host Trey Montague. "Do the Eden people show any signs of homosexuality?"

That's the 'big question' for your audience? Meiersdottir thought. What kind of morons make up your damn 'audience?' But aloud she said only, "Trey, I have no idea whatever."

"Well, Amanda, it's an important issue, don't you agree?" the holograph interviewer said.

"Why would I agree with that, Trey?" she asked. "I mean, isn't it their own business? Just like it is here. What two consenting adults do in private isn't my concern, whether here or on Eden. Can we move on, please?"

The host simply ignored the last. "But you do agree that it's a sin, right?" he pressed.

She feigned recognition. "Oh, I get it! You don't trust God to handle it, is that it?"

Montague was caught off-guard. "I beg your pardon?" he said.

"Well, it's a sin, or that's what you're saying," she went on. "Now, look, I'm a sociologist, not a theologist, but my understanding is that it's God's job to punish sinners, isn't that so? But you don't think God's going to do it, or at least not do it right, not to your satisfaction, so you have to take it on yourself."

"No, of course it's not that," replied the flustered interviewer.

"Oh?" she said with arched eyebrows. "Well, I guess I'm confused then. But I'm afraid I'll have to stay confused, because Carlos and I have another commitment." She stood up and held out her hand with a friendly smile. Igwanda, suppressing his amusement, followed suit. "It was really great to meet you, Trey; I hope we can do it again when there's more time."

"You hope we can do it again?" repeated Igwanda to her sotto voce as they walked out.

"Not."

And, at the opposite end of the political spectrum, there was this:

"Do I understand correctly that there is only a single colony of the ones you're calling Edenites, limited only to the few who've inherited this telepathic mutation that allows them to 'think together, ' as you put it?" asked hyper-liberal host Marcia Kendricks.

"Pretty much, Marcia," Meiersdottir answered. "Just before we left there was an effort to spread out a bit more widely, but it's very difficult for them. Their telepathy has a very limited geographic range, so—"

"No, no, that's not what I mean," Kendricks interrupted, fixated on her point. "What I'm getting at is, how about the others, the ones who don't have the mutation? Didn't you say they'd told you there were lots of others like them on the planet who didn't have that gene?"

"Yes, it appears so," Igwanda put in. "In fact, on one occasion when Amanda was not there I happened to see two such. They were clearly mentally much less evolved."

"Less learning-enabled, you mean?" the interviewer asked.

Igwanda made the effort to smile at her. "You could say that," he said. "On nothing approximating the same level."

"But don't the smart ones, the ones in this privileged enclave, feel any responsibility toward these others?" she pressed.

"Not so far as I could determine," the colonel replied. "Why would they?" Belatedly his wife, who was beginning to see Kendricks' drift, gave him a nudge, but the words were already out.

"Well, isn't it true that the only difference between them is that the ones in the exclusive community have a little higher intellect? And shouldn't they, the fortunate ones, take some responsibility for their less-gifted brothers and sisters? Amanda, I have to say that I'm really surprised—no, not just surprised, I'm disappointed—that you, as a sociologist, didn't point this out to them. I mean, we humans don't just kick out children who are born with Down's syndrome, autism, microcelephacy, other mental ... limitations, the way the Edenites do."

"You're drawing the wrong comparison," Meiersdottir interjected.

"Am I?" said Kendricks aggressively. "I don't think so. The only distinction between them is just a tiny bit of I.Q., isn't it?"

"No. It's an immense gap, enough to make them two different species. The mutation—"

"But they're not two difference species, are they?" Kendricks demanded. "They can interbreed, can't they?"

"I really don't know," answered Meiersdottir in a firm voice. "Nor do I think it matters. With today's genetic manipulation we could probably interbreed with, oh, chimpanzees or orangutans, but I don't think anybody believes it would be a good idea, do you? And that's a lot bet­ter comparison, if you want to draw one. As I say, two different species."

"But that's not the same thing—"

"It really is, you know," Meiersdottir cut her off and stood. "Marcia, I'd love to stay and explain it to you further, but time presses and Carlos and I have another appointment. Thanks so very much for having us."

"I believe you were mistaken about one thing you told her," Igwanda remarked to his wife on their way out.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Interbreeding of humans and great apes," he said. "I believe it would result in a mental capacity very like hers."

She laughed.

And then this one:

"I must say, I'm really impressed by the confirmation that Eden gives us of the truth of creationism, intelligent design, aren't you, Amanda and Carlos?" inquired fundamentalist Christian leader Andros Megahadra.

Meiersdottir had sharply challenged the SES public relations head, Roger Allenda, about this particular booking. "All he wants is to use us as patsies to push his religion," she'd complained. But Allenda had assured her that the broadcaster had agreed to stay completely off religious topics, and she'd finally, reluctantly, consented. Five minutes into the interview, though, there they were back to religion.

"Andros, I thought we'd agreed not to get into religious doctrine," she said flatly.

"Why of course," the host replied smoothly. "But this is simply science, creationist science, which is now confirmed as fact by Eden."

Igwanda was making plain that he wanted no part of this particular discussion, so she gave Megahadra a weary look. "OK, Andros, I know you want me to ask, so why don't you tell me how Eden confirms creationism."

"Well, God created the Edenites, right? I mean, you say they even know how long ago, down to the year. So if God did it on Eden, then isn't it self-evident that the same thing happened on Earth?"

"Andros, it wasn't any such thing," she said in a sharp tone. "It was simply a genetic mutation. The others, the ones who are biologically similar but weren't affected by the mutation, are there to prove it. If anything, Eden confirms the theory of evolution—"

"Ah, 'theory, '" interrupted Megahadra. "Another word for guesswork. But Eden proves that guess was wrong, doesn't it?"

"'Theory' doesn't mean guesswork in this context, it means a body of knowledge about a particular subject," she retorted. "Like the theory of relativity, you want to argue that one after we've proved it with travel to other stars? The Edenites evolved, just as we did, it's merely that their final step came about in an abrupt mutation."

"Well, you can call it mutation if you like, but isn't that just another way of saying divine intervention?" he said in a condescending tone.

"Who knows?" she asked. "If you want to argue that, do it. But there are plenty of non-telepathic Edenites around, do you see the same thing here? Are you going to tell me that dinosaurs were simply great big stupid humans before God stepped in?"

"Amanda, it's well-known that dinosaurs never existed," he explained patronizingly. "The fossils are simply the remains of some of the creatures of the true Eden here on Earth—"

"Andros, you don't need us here for this," she said, rising. "Just say what you like, but know I'm not buying it. Now I'm sorry, but Carlos and I need to move on, thanks for having us." Igwanda joined her and they walked out.

The last straw was this session with well-known leftist political commentator Bertrand Castellanos:

"It would appear from your reports that the Edenites have unlocked the secret to perfect communal living," he said at almost the beginning of what was scheduled as a 30-minute holo­cast.

Meiersdottir blinked. "Well, Bertrand, I suppose you could say that if you took a superficial look," she told him placatingly. "But that's—"

"'Superficial?'" he cut her off. "Amanda, I'm surprised to hear you say that. I mean, as a sociologist you must certainly see that this is what stands out about the Edenite economy."

"What stands out is simply that the Edenites are completely different from us in a much more fundamental way than economics," she said.

"Yes, indeed," he agreed enthusiastically. "Much superior to us in many ways, I should say. Unlike us poor humans, they appear to have mastered the recognition that no one individual exists in a vacuum, that all members of any rational species must act unselfishly for the better­ment of all."

"You can't really call it 'unselfish' the way you mean it, Bertrand."

"How else might one regard it?" asked the host. "From what you wrote, each Edenite makes his or her contribution to the group without thought of individual recompense, and each receives from the group in accordance with his or her particular need. Just as Karl Marx conceived it, but as we've been unable to make it work on Earth."

"We can't make it work because we're separate individuals—'singles, ' they call it," she explained. "They're not; they 'think together, ' they're mentally intertwined and interdependent. The two species can't be compared the way you're trying to do."

"Yes, I understand," he said, "but my point is that the perversion of capitalism has never arisen there, has it? There's no management and labor, no class distinctions of any sort, they all work together in perfect and unselfish harmony as we humans have never been able to do save for brief and short-lived interludes."

She was getting impatient. "Bertrand, do they pay you for doing this show?"

He coughed. "Well, Amanda, that's a subject I don't discuss."

"But they do, don't they?" she persisted. "And pretty damn well, too, I'll bet. And you spend that money on yourself and your family to live in a fine house in an exclusive neighborhood, eat lots of good food"—she stared ostentatiously at his protruding belly—"buy those expensive clothes you're wearing and generally have a much better standard of living than some poor schmo who isn't a big deal on the holo."

"Uh..."

"Want to give all that up?" she continued. "Of course you don't, why would you? That's why communism doesn't work here, you're you, an individual completely separate from all other individuals. The Edenites aren't, they don't have any sense of individuality or not much, they're all part of one mental collective. Their economic structure, if you want to call it that, is simply a by-product of that basic difference from humans."