Larry Niven - Footfall

“Something we can cook fast.”

He laughed, “Yeah. There are better things to do than eat.”

“The Church has always considered the possibility of intelligence other than human,” Cardinal Manelli said. “Angels are one obvious example.”

“Ah. And of course C. S. Lewis played with aliens,” the Episcopalian bishop added. “Certainly the Christian churches are interested in this alien ship, but I can’t agree that the existence of the aliens refutes Christian revelation.”

Jeri Wilson looked thoughtful. She’d turned on the TV, something she almost never did on Sunday afternoons, and this program had been on. The Roman Catholic cardinal, the Episcopal bishop of California, two Protestant ministers whose faces she recognized, and a history professor from the University of California. Professor Boyd seemed to be acting as moderator, and also as a gadfly intent on irritating the others.

“Lewis points out that the existence of intelligent aliens impacts Christianity only if we assume they are in need of redemption, that redemption must come in the same manner as it was delivered to humanity, and that it has been denied them,” the Episcopal bishop continued. “I doubt we know any of that just yet.”

“What if they’ve never heard of Christianity?” Professor Boyd asked. “If they have no legends of gods, no notion of sin, no thought of redemption?”

“It wouldn’t change the facts of our revelation,” Cardinal Manelli said. “The Resurrection took place in our history, and no alien ship will change that. We’ll know soon enough. Why speculate? If you want to ask ‘what if?’ then what if they have both the Old and New Testaments, or documents recognizably related to them?”

That would be interesting, Jeri thought.

“I predict that what we’ll find will be ambiguous,” one of the ministers said. “God doesn’t seem to speak unequivocally.”

“Not to you,” Cardinal Manelli said. The others laughed, but Jeri thought some of the laughter was strained.

The doorbell rang. She went to answer it, a little unhappy at missing the program, which was interesting. Melissa raced down the hall and got to the door first.

The man at the door had red hair and beard fading to white. His gut spilled out over the top of his blue jeans. He’d never be able to button his denim jacket. Melissa stepped back involuntarily for a moment. Then she smiled. “Hi, Harry!”

Jeri didn’t encourage Melissa to call adults by their first names, but Harry was an exception. How could you call him Mr. Reddington? “Hello,” Jeri said. “What brings you here?” She stepped back to let him in and led him toward the kitchen. “Beer?”

“Thanks, yes,” Harry said. He took the can eagerly. “Actually. I was just over to see Ken Dutton, and thought I’d stop by.”

Melissa had gone back to her room. “Horse crap, Harry,” Jeri said.

He shrugged. “Okay, I have ulterior motives. Look, they’re throwing me out of my apartment—”

“Great God, Harry, you don’t expect me to put you up!”

He looked slightly hurt. “You don’t have to be so vigorous about the way you say that.” Then he grinned. “Naw, I just thought, well, maybe you could put in a word with the Enclave people. I could go up to Washington state any time.”

“Harry, they don’t want you.” That hurt him. She could see it. Even so, it had to be said. Harry had done odd jobs for the Tate-Evanses, as well as for the Wilsons, and although he’d never been invited to join the Enclave, he knew about it because David had talked about it with him.

Harry shrugged. “They don’t want Dutton, either. But they do want you.”

“Possibly. I’m not so sure I want them.”

Harry looked puzzled.

“I’ve been thinking of going east. To join David.” Not yet, he said. But it wasn’t no!

Melissa came in to get a Coke from the refrigerator. “Is that your motorcycle out there?” she asked.

“Sure,” Harry said.

“Will you take me for a ride?’

“Melissa, you shouldn’t bother—”

“Sure,” Harry said.

Jeri frowned. She wasn’t worried about Melissa’s going with Harry, but — “Is it safe?”

Harry grinned. “Safe as houses.” He patted his ample gut. “If we fall off, I’ll see she lands on me.”

He just might do that, Jeri thought. “Look, Harry, not too fast—”

“Speed limit, and no freeway,” Harry said.

Melissa was dancing around. “I’ll get my jacket,” she said. She dashed out of the kitchen.

“Oh, all right,” Jeri said. “Harry, do be careful.”

An hour later, Melissa came in the front door.

“Have a good time?” Jeri asked.

“Yeah, until his motorcycle blew up.”

“Blew up!”

“Well, that’s what he said. It just died. We were a long way off.”

“How did you get home?”

“Harry asked if you let me take the bus by myself, and when I said sure, he waited at the bus stop with me.” Melissa giggled. “He had to borrow bus fare from me so he could get home, too.”

Linda Gillespie drained her margarita and set the empty glass down too hard. When she spoke, her voice was too loud for the dimly lit Mayflower cocktail lounge. “Dammit, it just isn’t fair!”

Carlotta Dawson shrugged. “Lots of things aren’t. At least you had fair warning! You knew you were marrying an astronaut. I thought I’d married a nice lawyer.”

“They could let us go to Houston with them.”

“Speak for yourself,” Carlotta said. “I’ve got work to do. Someone has to think about his career, and it’s for sure Wes won’t now that he’s got a chance to go to space. If you’re looking for something to do, come help me with the constituent mail.”

“Yeah, sure—”

“I mean it,” Carlotta said. “Sure, it gives you something to distract you, but seriously, I need the help. It’s hard to find intelligent people who know California and live in Washington.”

“I don’t blame them.”

“So why don’t you go home”

“We were going to have the house painted anyway, and when the President ordered Ed to Washington we decided to have an extra room put on the attic. The house is a madhouse, crawling with contractors.”—

“You could go see Joel.”

“No I can’t. That expensive boarding school doesn’t like having Mommy drop in. Interferes with their routine. Of course if Ed wants to come—”

Carlotta smiled. “Astronauts are always welcome. You knew that when you married him.”

“Yes. And I still love him, too. But it gets damned lonesome sometimes.” Linda signaled the waitress. “Another round, please.”

“Not me,” Carlotta said. “Two’s more than enough. Linda, be reasonable. Ed and Wes don’t have any time at all, that’s straight enough. They’re living on the base

“I could stay in a hotel.”

“Be pretty expensive, and he still wouldn’t have any time for you.

Linda nodded. “I know. But it’s still not fair.”

Carlotta chuckled. “The aliens are coming. Our husbands are intimately involved in making contact with them-and we’re sitting here grousing because we’re not seeing them in Washington instead of being ignored by them in Houston.”

“You don’t like it either—”

“No. I don’t. Congress recesses about the time Wes actually goes into orbit, and I’ll like that even less-but there’s nothing I can do about it.” She stood and fumbled in her purse until she found a five-dollar bill. She put the money on the table. “I mean it, Linda, I could use some help. Call me at the office”

“All right.”

“I like your enthusiasm. Well, if you do, I guarantee I’ll put you to work. Bye.”

Linda watched Carlotta leave, and turned back to her drink. I probably should go help Carlotta. It’s something to do — “Five dollars for your thoughts.”