Frederik Pohl - Jem

“To the whole human race then, honey,” said Margie. “Don’t you see it? You just said it for yourself — a world of two hundred nations. But Klong can be a world of one nation! No fighting. No spies. No cloak-and-dagger shit. Who colonized America?”

“What?” It took Ana a moment to realize she was supposed to answer the question. “Why — the English? Before them, the Dutch.”

“And before them maybe the Italians and Spaniards, with Columbus, and maybe, for Christ’s sake, anybody you like — the Vikings, the Polynesians, the Chinese. Who knows? But the people who live in America now are the Americans. And that’s who’s going to live on Klong in another generation or two. The Klongans. Or whatever they call themselves. A single race of human beings. Never mind where they come from here! They’ll be all the same, all part of the same wonderful… well, dream. I don’t mind calling it a dream. But you and I can make it come true, Ana. We can learn how to live on Klong. We can build a world without national barriers and without the kind of senseless competition and rapacity that have ruined this one. Do you know what it means to have a whole new world to start over on?”

Ana was silent. “I — I have had some thoughts of that sort myself,” she admitted.

“Of course you have. And I want to make it happen. I want to lay the foundations for a world society that understands planning and conservation and cooperation. Do you know how much we’re putting into this? Four ships. Nearly ninety people. Thirty-five tons of equipment. The invasion of Europe cost less than this one launch, and believe me, everybody involved is screaming. It costs too much. It upsets the Peeps. The Greasies will raise their prices. We need the resources to solve the problems of the cities. Half the Congress would like to call it off tomorrow—”

“One has heard rumors,” Ana said cautiously, “that the launch may be canceled.”

Margie hesitated, and a shadow crossed her face. “No,” she corrected. “That will not happen, because it is too important. But that is why I asked for you, Ana. If we can send ninety people, they must be the best ninety people there are. And you are the best translator I could find.” She reached out and touched Ana’s sleeve. “Do you understand?”

Ana drew away as soon as she could without giving offense, her thoughts uncertain. “Y-yes,” she said unwillingly, and then, “but, on the other hand, no. What you say is most persuasive, Mis Menninger, but what has it to do with the use of flamethrowers and other weapons? Are we to build this fine monolithic world by destroying everyone else?”

“Of course not, Ana!” cried Margie, with as much shock and revulsion in her voice as she knew how to put there. “I give you my word!”

There was a silence. “I see,” said Ana at last. “You give me your word.”

“What else would you have me do?”

Ana said thoughtfully, “One has so little contact with the rest of the world here. I would like very much an opportunity to discuss this with others. Perhaps with my own delegation at the United Nations?”

“Why not?” exclaimed Margie. She looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. “I’ll tell you what. As soon as training’s over we’re all going to get three days off. I’m going to New York myself. Come with me. We’ll eat some decent food, go to a few parties. And you can talk it over with anyone you like. Agreed?”

Ana hesitated. At last, unwillingly, she said, “All right, Mis Menninger. That sounds attractive.” It did not, for many reasons, but as a just person Ana had to concede that it sounded at least fair.

“Fine, honey. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m overdue for a long, hot bath.”

Margie locked the door behind the Bulgarian woman and ran herself a tub with some satisfaction. What the stupid prunt didn’t know was that she was leaving Camp Detrick direct for the launch pad. The next chance she would have to talk anything over with anybody would be on Klong, and there let her say whatever she liked.

But Ana Dimitrova was only one problem, and maybe the easiest to solve. “One has heard rumors that the launch may be canceled” indeed! If Dimitrova had heard them, then everybody had heard them, and maybe the rumors were close to being true.

Margie allowed herself five minutes of luxurious soaking in the tub. When she got out she draped a towel around her body, not from modesty but from distaste; the shots had raised angry red welts all over her skin, and even with the ointment and the pills they itched. She did not want to be seen like that. Certainly not by the senator. It was bad advertising for the merchandise.

As she was dialing Adrian Lenz’s private number she looked at herself in the mirror, frowned, and switched to voice only. “Hello, honey,” she said as soon as he was on the line. “I’m sorry there’s no picture, but this place doesn’t have all mod. cons., and anyway” — she giggled — “I don’t have any clothes on.”

“Hello, Margie.” Senator Lenz’s voice was neutral. It was the sort of tone one uses to a brother-in-law or an airport security guard; it said, I acknowledge there is a relationship between us, but don’t push it. “I assume you’re calling me about your proposed new launch.”

“Just ‘proposed,’ Adrian? You voted for it three weeks ago.”

“I know my own voting record, Margie.”

“Of course you do, Adrian. Listen, I didn’t call you up to quarrel with you.”

“No, you didn’t,” said the senator. “You called me up to try to keep me in line. I was pretty sure you’d call. I’m even pretty sure of what you’re going to say. You’re going to tell me that we’ve got a hell of a big investment in Klong now and if we don’t nourish it the whole thing might go down the tube.”

“Something like that, senator,” Marge Menninger said reluctantly.

“I was sure of it. You know, we’ve heard those arguments before. Every time the DoD wants something outrageous they start by asking some piss-ant amount as a ‘study grant.’ Then a little more because the study showed some really promising idea. Then some more because, gosh, senator, we’ve gone this far, let’s not waste it. And then, the next thing you know, we’ve got some stupid new missile or antiballistic defense system or nuclear bomber. Not because any sensible person wants it, but because there was no place to stop. Well, Margie, maybe this is the place to stop Klong. Three days from now there’s a committee meeting. I don’t know which way I’m going to vote, because I don’t have all the information yet. But I’m not making any promises.”

Margie kept the disappointment out of her voice, but she was less successful with the anger. “This project means a hell of a lot to me, Adrian.”

“Don’t you think I know it? Listen, Margie, this is an open line, but I thought you might be interested in something. I’ve got tomorrow’s early edition of the Herald here, and there’s a story from Peiping.

’Authoritative sources’ say that repair crews at their tactran satellite have definite evidence that the explosion which destroyed the satellite and two transport ships was of suspicious origin.”

“I watch the news, Adrian. I saw that. And there was another story, too, that said that dissident elements within the People’s Republics were thought to be responsible.”

The senator was silent. Margie would have given a lot to have seen the expression on his face just then, even at the cost of revealing the sorry condition of her own, and her hand reached out to restore the vision circuit to the call. But then the senator said, “I guess that’s all we should say under the circumstances, Margie. I agree with you about one thing. You’ve gotten us into this pretty deep.” And he broke the connection.