David Marusek - Mind Over Ship

Veronica was probably right; by the time the Fentan reached Earth, the whole evangeline crisis would be resolved, one way or another. And, besides, what could he do that the world’s leading researchers couldn’t? This was bad enough, but the real question was whether or not Mary would welcome him. Even without the ’Leen Disease, would she want him to come barging in to rescue her? Again? Fred couldn’t get out of his head the little scene they had in their bedroom the morning of the clinic incident. She not only asked him not to interfere, she begged him not to. She sincerely wanted to handle the situation by herself.

But he had interfered anyway, and he had, in fact and in deed, saved her life, and thus Ellen Starke’s life. She had admitted as much. And by his actions he had landed in prison and then, to repay the TUGs for their logistical support, he had been forced to come up here. But — and here was the rub — had Mary ever thanked him? He scoured his memory for any word of thanks, any hint of appreciation, and he came up dry.

Fred hung in a corner of the gangway like a gargoyle, oblivious to the curious glances of passersby. If he went, he was screwed. If he stayed, he was screwed. After an hour or so of second-guessing, Marcus called.

“What do you want?”

To give you a word of advice .

“I don’t want your advice.”

I understand, but you are loitering in a very public space and causing a lot of talk .

“What do I care?”

I am asking you to care. You have made arrangements to leave the station and return to Earth. It is my opinion that you proceed to and board the Fentan.

“Why?”

Because your continued presence here at Trailing Earth is a constant irritant that will likely spark violent unrest .

“How so?”

Your brothers were already under a lot of strain before your arrival, due to the labor troubles with Capias World. The situation with the evangelines has pushed them to the breaking point. You are a convenient scapegoat, and I know that there have already been threats against your person. Now that the donalds have learned of your method results, it’s only a matter of time before they reveal them to the russ population. The falseness of the method will not restrain your brothers. They will express outrage, and our tenuous truce with the donalds will break down. There will be intergermline violence. Worse, there will be fratricide — your brothers will kill you. Your impulse to leave is a good one .

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I deserve what I get? You’ve said as much yourself.”

On the contrary, I haven’t yet given up on you. But the bigger issue is the good reputation of your germline. With your history of retrievable manslaughter, your death here at the hands of your brothers would surely seal the fate of your entire ten-million-strong issue .

“Really? Is fratricide any worse than our brutish Original Flaw?”

I’ve told you before, and I repeat, the whole Original Flaw method you underwent was a hoax. I assure you that the russ germline has never had a problem with pedophilia. That was pure fabrication .

“Is that a fact? And what about our fascination with evangelines and their boyish features and body type?”

What of it? You are equally attracted to the more voluptuous lulu type .

“What about my fascination with retrogirls? Even Mary noticed the attention I gave that Kodiak girl last year.”

Human males have always sought sexual congress with children, all the way back to Paleolithic times when female menarche occurred between the ages of seven and thirteen years. For dominant males to impregnate the youngest fertile females in a tribe was adaptively advantageous to the tribe. While this may no longer be so, the male’s attraction for children has survived into modern times, like the once-advantageous taste for sweets and fats. Biological propensities are hardwired into the genes and may take tens of millennia to weed out when they are no longer useful .

What’s important to keep in mind is that new, inhibitory tendencies emerge to counteract obsolete ones. While your sexual interest in children may be natural, your inhibition against acting on this interest is also natural and even stronger. Neither you nor Thomas A. nor any russ has ever violated society’s taboos in this regard. Whoever designed the Original Flaw method cleverly used your own russ sense of propriety against you to damage both you and your germline. I am attempting to mitigate the damage, but I will need your cooperation to do so .

How Fred wanted to believe the mentar, but he remembered the last time it had tried to talk him down from a ledge. It had tried to convince him that his Book of Russ debacle was due to HALVENE poisoning, and that hadn’t worked out either.

“Fine. You’ve said your piece, Marcus. I’m not a monster; now prove it. I ask again; if this isn’t the russ Original Flaw, then what is? You said you’d get the Brotherhood Council’s permission to tell me.”

I said I’d try to get it. Permission was denied .

“There you have it then,” Fred said as he pushed off from his perch. “Get back to me when you have a better answer.” He left the Fentan gang-way and returned to his stateroom to give the whole matter some serious obsessing.

With her skin mission accomplished, Saul and Tia waving good-bye and her rental car lifting off from their sod-paved airstrip, Andrea gave her tired body up to the plush comfort of her seat pod. But she didn’t return to her always room; the real Alaskan panorama outside her windows was too disturbing to ignore. Mountain range on top of mountain range in every direction as far as the eye could see.

Meanwhile, the six-month term of their quarantine world passed, and the pocket world had not imploded. Perhaps the datapin Zoranna had sent Jaspersen was harmless after all.

What do you think? E-P said. Break quarantine and open it?

That was what Andrea wanted to do. It was probably safe, and her curiosity was high, but a nagging sense of caution made her say, “No, let it run another six months. In the meantime, are you able to make me a new Jaspersen sim and sidebob here?”

Two phantoms appeared in her car and struggled to orient themselves. The sim looked at her, then outside the window, then back at her and said, “Myr Tiekel, what is the meaning of this? How did you — ?” The true purpose of her visit dawned on it then, and it thundered, “This is a gross violation of my privacy. I will sue you. I will bring you to ruin for this. This is criminal. This is —”

“Oh, please,” she said, “spare me the drama.” Andrea tuned the Jaspersen sim out and asked the sidebob what was on Alblaitor’s datapin.

“It contains detailed, proprietary financial statements of Applied People,” the sidebob said. “And it outlines the broad terms of a possible sale. It’s an intriguing offer.”

Andrea wiped them both away and said, “Now bring me a set of Zorannas.”

The pair of Zorannas appeared where the Jaspersens had been, and E-P warned, Allow us to remind you, Alblaitor has never sat for a preffing session and these constructs are only inferential .

Why remind her? Was E-P losing confidence in its work? “They’ll do,” she said, and when the pair of Zorannas had oriented themselves, the sim said, “Andrea, what is the meaning of this?”