Chapter 11

For the past three years Meiersdottir had gradually detached herself from Eden Rescue. She remained chairperson of its board and nominal CEO, but Heisinger and Igwanda—AC—had between them taken over virtually all aspects of operational management, and her regular presence was no longer needed. Given her advancing years—she'd be 113 on her next birthday, which was only two months away—making the daily trek to the organization's offices was increasingly difficult for her, and she was rarely there.

Instead she remained mostly in the fairly opulent townhouse she'd bought nearby and seldom ventured out for any purpose. A three-person domestic staff handled such mundane matters as shopping, as well as tending to both the house and her own personal needs, while she stayed home.

Not that she'd become completely out of touch. Igwanda had remained with her when they'd left the island, and three years earlier, when their relationship had enough time to develop into certainty for them both, Heisinger had moved in as well. They'd fallen into the habit of after-dinner briefings of each day's events before repairing to their respective quarters—the young couple on the third floor, the elderly woman on the second—at the end of the day. Meiersdottir's mind remained as sharp as ever; she'd follow attentively, occasionally offer advice or suggestions, and she was fully attuned to the operation's progress.

That evening the discussion centered initially on the latest developments on New Eden. The bulk of the soil transformation had been completed the previous summer, and the first sowing of plants had taken place. As teams of biologists and agronomists hovered over them with the intensity of mothers watching their infants, the seedlings struggled a bit at the start but soon began to flourish in their new environment. Now Heisinger was ecstatic about the growth they were seeing.

"They're taking off like, well, like wildflowers!" she gushed. "I spent a few minutes this morning looking at the holos they're transmitting out there, and you could almost see the things grow! In another year"—the time of the Edenites' scheduled arrival—"you won't be able to tell it from Eden itself. Well," she corrected herself, "the tree things won't be very big, of course, but they'll be there, and the rest of it's filling in beautifully."

"And the other two areas?" Meiersdottir asked. The Edenform operation had ultimately had to leave two segments of the island incomplete because of time pressure.

"The soil's done, seedlings starting to go in next week. They'll be pretty sparse when the Edenites first get here, but they'll catch up."

"Tell me about the khalika"—the Edenites' principal food crop.

"Doing perfectly," Heisinger said. "We've followed Buddy's notes"—Arthur "Buddy" Plantz, the agronomist who'd been on their second visit, had died before the Rescue operation was ever conceived, or needed, but he'd left copious descriptions of the Edenites' agricultural techniques. "We took down last year's matured crop to two inches, and let me tell you the folks out there hated it, they were scared shitless that they were killing it. But it did what he said it would, came right back bigger and stronger than ever. We'll do the same this year, and by when they get here we'll actually have a harvest waiting for them."

"They'll need it," said Meiersdottir. "They're going to have to be vegetarians for a while." But her mind seemed not completely on what she was saying. Abruptly she turned to her grandson. "Anything new with the Ark?" she asked. Of late that had become his primary province while Heisinger focused her attention on New Eden.

"Still on schedule, Grandmother," he said. "Problems, always problems, but nothing that can't be handled."

"Good," she said abstractedly. "Have you considered who's going?"

"That's more Al's department," he told her. "She's going to be heading it up."

"Just she?" asked Meiersdottir. "Not you too?"

"I'll stay here to take care of things on this end," he said carefully. "Along with you, of course."

"Mmm," she said. She looked back and forth between them. "A long time for young lovers to be apart."

"Grandmother—" he started.

"We've discussed it," Heisinger interrupted. "It's not exactly like we're brand new together. We've had more than four years already and we'll have lots and lots and lots more when I get back."

Meiersdottir nodded, more to herself than them. "Good," she mused. "Solid. Strong. The way it should be. The way it was with your grandfather and me."

They both shifted uncomfortably; personal discussions among them were rare, and this was uncharted territory.

She looked up sharply, now fully focused. "But it's not right even so. AC"—another departure; she rarely used their Eden Rescue nickname—"should do this together. And so you will. Carlie, you're not staying on Earth because of me."

"Grandmother—" "Amanda—" they both tried to speak at once.

"It's simple," she cut them off. "I'm going, too."

They stared at each other in a combination of shock and consternation. It was impossible, of course; interstellar travel was for the young, not the aged. But how to say this to the woman who'd made the whole mission possible?

"Umm... ," Igwanda began hesitantly.

She smiled. "I see your faces," she said in an amused tone. "You're both thinking how can we tell the old lady that she's not quite up to par for this one. Well, before you start trying let's do a little more thinking.

"Look, it's a big dinner party, the fanciest one ever. The table's set, the food's cooking, the hosts are waiting eagerly, right? But oops, just one thing, we haven't yet got 'round to inviting the guest of honor. Understand?"

They shared an uncomprehending look.

She grunted in annoyance. "What I'm saying is that we've gone to all this trouble to rescue the Edenites but nowhere along the line has anybody had the good taste to ask them whether they want to be rescued. Now do you follow me?"

There was a very long silence. At last Heisinger broke it.

"Are you saying maybe they don't?" she asked in almost a whisper.

"I have absolutely no idea," replied Meiersdottir briskly. "Do you? Does anybody?"

"But— I don't understand you. Why wouldn't they? I mean, their only other choice is dying, isn't it?"

"So it seems," the old lady agreed.

"Well, then? And I mean, we've gone to all this trouble, busted our butts to set all this up for them—"

"And at the least it would seem ungracious for them to turn us down after all we've done," Meiersdottir persisted. "Really bad manners and all, I know. Not to mention it's their one chance of survival, as you point out, dear. Right?"

"Right!"

"But that's human thinking, not Edenite thinking. By the way they see things it could be a completely different story."

Both of them were looking at her aghast. "That's a terrible thought, Amanda!" Heisinger finally burst out. "You mean all of this could be for nothing?"

"I certainly hope not. And calm down a little, I don't think it's going to happen that way. Not if we can do it right and persuade them to come home with us. But that's why you need me."

Igwanda started in surprise. She laughed lightly. "I see, you thought I wanted to come for me, didn't you?" she teased him. "Carlie, I've been to Eden, twice. Sure, I'd love to see it one last time before it's gone, but it isn't an obsession. I'm way too old to care much about seeing this or that or the other thing in the little while I have left. There simply won't be time to cherish the memories, which is a big part why people go a-voyaging, isn't it? No, it's not for me, it's for us, for everyone who's worked so hard to make this happen, and even more it's for them, for the Edenites. As the chief hostess of this dinner party, I want to make as sure as possible that the guest of honor shows up."