Noah seemed vague on this point. “We do it less, today, since we extract enough minerals from the planet; Lanesbridge, Mawrford and Blydentown are all mining centers. The ores we need have been hard to locate in Foxfield’s crust, even with the Plowshare’s detectors, which we’ve lacked for some time now. The planetary mass is twice that of Earth, and the mineral composition is more stratified. But at least humans can dig and drill; the ’mensals aren’t exactly built for that.”
“Speaking of build,” Clifford said, “doesn’t the Foxfield gravity tire you out at all?”
Doctor Rissa Nduni shook her head. “We train our muscles with metabolic regulators. How is it,” she asked Noah, “that the commensal creatures evolved so dependent on minerals scarce on this planet?”
Seth’s fingers flew.
“In early times,” Ghareshl signaled, “minerals were enough. Then One needed more, for further growth stages in the Dwelling.”
“The Dwelling is the center of the One’s consciousness,” said Seth.
Casimir looked up. “Back to planetology; have you any idea where that unprecedented planetary magnetism comes from?”
“No,” said Allison. “Perhaps you folks will find out.”
“Yes,” Kyoko said. “We’ll help you update your mining techniques as well.”
“What about weather forecasting?” Noah asked with sudden eagerness. “I’ll bet you could really give us a hand on that.”
“Of course. The initial phase of climate control might be installed fairly soon, Casimir, no?”
Casimir nodded. “Upon completion of biosphere analysis.”
Allison felt annoyed despite herself. “I’ve a hunch you folks are going to turn me out of a job,” she said.
“Absolutely not,” said Adjustor Maio. “That is the opposite of UNI’s intention.”
Kyoko added, “We wish to cooperate with you, Allison, to mesh your social and technical fabric with the UNI System. I’d like very much to see what your Technical Center has accomplished.”
“Let’s stop off there,” said Martha, whose stride was still full of energy. “We’ve just enough time before supper.”
The Center’s trapezoidal silhouette stood dark before the reddened sun which now approached the horizon. Patches of plantlike foliage were closing for the night, but Allison heard the cackling witch-vine just beginning to stir.
“What exactly became of the Plowshare?” Kyoko asked, as they entered the building.
“Oh, it’s still up there,” said Allison. “At least it was, the last time I looked. It swings round in a long orbit; shouldn’t come down for another thousand years yet.”
“We’ll dispose of it.”
“Thanks,” Allison said dryly. “Before it was destroyed we had brought down the essential equipment: Deltron, the manufacturing modules, and so forth. All nice and compact, with providential capacity for self-repair.” But they would have given out eventually, perhaps before the Foxfielders were ready. She had wondered about that.
In the computer room Dave sat at Allison’s desk and wrote notes on some printout paper. On the shelf by his shoulder his pet lay in a wrinkled heap, one eye stirring sleepily.
The wurraburra came to life in an instant. It flopped down to the floor, waving its eyefeet like a tangle of snakes. It headed for Casimir and climbed swiftly to his chest.
“David!” snapped Allison. “I’ve told you a hundred times to keep that thing out of here—it is harmless, though,” she assured the biosphere analyst.
“Mom, I just wanted some company while I do my homework—” The boy stopped and stared at the strange visitors.
“No problem at all.” Casimir grinned as he examined the cooing creature. “Never in my life have I seen such a beast! But animals generally take to me, for some reason. It’s a useful trait, on the whole.”
“Even on Foxfield?” Noah asked rhetorically. “Your gift must be truly otherworldly, then.”
Casimir looked at him blankly.
“A spiritual gift,” Martha explained.
“Oh, yes, of course.”
Noreen now stood expectantly by the desk.
“Sorry,” said Allison, “I should introduce you—my son, David Joshua Thorne, and Noreen Connaught, deputy coordinator…” She named the four off-world citizens.
“And that there’s Rufus Jones,” added Dave, his confidence recovered.
“What’s this!” Clifford feigned horror. “Young man, have you no better respect for such an illustrious name? Your forebears would turn in their graves.”
Dave’s cheeks flushed.
His uncle laughed and patted his shoulder. “Rufus Jones was a worthy Friend of the early nineteen hundreds,” he told the visitors. “He helped revitalize Quakerism in an increasingly secular age. He was a founder of the American Friends Service Committee, and his own life gave endless witness to the Light. One courageous act was his visit to the German Gestapo, just before the Second World War, when he asked them to curb the persecution of Jews.”
“Did they listen?” asked Casimir.
“They were courteous, at least, for Friends had brought relief to German children after the First War. Beyond that…The Word falls inevitably upon deaf ears at times.”
Kyoko was looking about the machine-filled room.
“Are you familiar with Delphis Electronics?” Allison asked.
“Of course,” she replied, “I recall the line. Bloch core; state of the art at the millennium’s end.”
“It was fairly standard by the time the Plowshare left. Had to bring along reliable equipment, after all. What do you use for memory storage nowadays? Electron spin?” she suggested facetiously.
“We’re working on it,” said the systems architect. “At present, storage is down to the molecular level—crystals of iron chromophores modeled after biomolecules. I’ll show you when you visit the ship.”
Allison felt slightly foolish. Of course, she knew better; Deltron would be no more than a child’s toy for people whose ships could cheat light-speed.
They stayed for pot-luck supper at the Crain farm. Long benches and tables with lamps at the ends had been set out over the field. A hundred or so Friends sat there now, finishing their meal and speculating about their guests from the stars. Children tossed frisbees into the fading light and dodged unusual numbers of commensal yearlings, attracted by the lights and cooking odors.
Allison listened intently as Adjustor Maio spoke.
“The UNI government is quite democratic.” Her voice was slightly amplified, as before. “Every human citizen has a say in her future; each has a vote, registered from birth.”
“What about nonhumans?” someone called out. “Include any of them yet?”
“I know of no case in which the question has arisen; do you, Casimir?”
He shook his golden curls. “We’ve tried in every way conceivable to contact potential inhabitants of the planets we explore. So far no nonhumans have proven intelligent enough or aggressive enough to make their sapience known. Four planets are now being thermolyzed and converted for human settlement.”
Allison raised her hand for a question, but someone else got there first.
“What kind of rights do you guarantee humans, then?”
“Those which progressive nations have long sought to achieve,” said the Adjustor. “Rights to life, happiness, communication…”
Allison sighed.
“Tired?” asked Seth as he put his arm around her. He seemed to have recovered from the morning’s outburst.
“Tired of old long words. I want to hear about that Shimuri business, the new physics. And I can’t wait to get a look at that ship tomorrow.”
He nodded. “Should be just the thing for you. Just think of all the new ideas you can get for the Center.”
“Please; I feel like a cave man already.” She turned to Ghareshl, who stood quite still with her corona closed, but her eye open. “What do you think of them?” Allison signaled.
Just
enough tendrils extended from the closed leaves. “The new possible-blood-sharer wave-forms?”
“Yes”
“Don’t smell much. But look nice and green. Do they perform photosynthesis?”
“Good question,” Allison said aloud. It was certainly possible, though she doubted it. “Why not ask?”
“Uncomfortable. Distasteful wave emissions.”
She recalled the One’s sensitivity to electromagnetic radiation, especially in the microwave and radio ranges. Rachel Coffin had theorized that commensals monitored their internal biochemistry by molecular magnetic resonances which coincided with those frequencies.
“Those frog-suits,” said Seth, “must hide a hell of a lot of equipment.”
“Maybe. Ghareshl is more finicky than most, however. That Yshrin, now—I wish she’d be a bit more particular. She’s up to no good when she gets curious about the Center.”
The Adjustor was trying to explain just how UNI could guarantee “happiness” to its citizens. “In this century,” she said, “the study of the human mind has at last become an exact science. The science is called psychosynchrony. You might try to think of it as the ultimate fusion of politics and psychology, although psychology is to psychosynchrony what alchemy is to chemistry. The function of Psychosynchronic Adjustors is to adjust the psyches of all citizens for attainment of maximal satisfaction in life.”
“Well, look here,” called a hoarse voice from the end of the table. “Suppose in spite of all that guaranteed happiness, I’m still unhappy? Suppose I just don’t want to be a ‘citizen’ of this United whatever? What can I do about it?”
“I understand your concern,” said Adjustor Maio. “After all, we’ve just arrived here today, after your many years in isolation. Naturally you feel apprehensive. Like all citizens, you have many needs which deserve consideration. I feel confident that once you learn all about our System your fears will be dispelled. To start with, we will set up ‘transcomm’ units on Foxfield which you may use to communicate with UNI citizens everywhere.”
Lively conversations ensued, until Edward Crain asked something which Allison strained to catch.
“I said, what about religion?” he repeated. “Do your people guarantee freedom of worship?”
Adjustor Maio hesitated slightly. “Religious phenomena have undergone evolution over this century, as over any other. But to answer your question, there are no restrictions on ‘spiritual’ expression, any more than on other types of expression.”
“Indeed, do Christians still exist? Or are Friends now extinct on Earth?”
“A group called the Quaker Preservation Society has in fact entered a request to send visitors to your planet.”
There were exclamations of joy.
“By all means,” said Martha, “let them visit; our heart goes out to them. And I am sure that some among us would like to visit these Friends in return. Do they inhabit other planets now, besides Earth?”
“What’s Earth like now?” someone else asked. “Can we go back and see?”
Celia stiffly raised an arm. “Is it true, then, that I can return to Earth…that I may see my birthplace once more?”
“Yes,” the Adjustor said. “Any citizen may travel when her credit level permits.”
“And what about the Holy Land? Can I visit Palestine, the land of the Bible?”
A long pause preceded the Adjustor’s reply, but her expression did not change. “You will learn all our history, in time, but let me relate the more painful events now. You recall, of course, the background of the Plowshare project. In the face of arms proliferation throughout the solar system, some people hoped to preserve humanity by voyaging to distant stars, and yours were among them.
“But those who remained had to deal with Earth as it was. The Middle Eastern region was particularly unstable then, for political discontent and heavy armaments persisted there long after depletion of the obsolete fossil fuels which upheld the local economy. In 2024, Palestinian terrorists who hoped to break up the Arab-Israeli anti-Soviet alliance hijacked a defective Soviet missile station and set off its warheads toward Israel. Israel then launched missiles against the Soviet Union and the Arab states, while the United States and China in concert took the opportunity for a preemptive first strike against the Soviets. It wasn’t quite preemptive enough, however.
“The details are unimportant now. The result of the Last War, as it is called, was devastation for many areas, and the Terran biosphere as a whole was severely strained. Most areas were reclaimed gradually over the generations, but Palestine remains uninhabitable wasteland to this day.”
The Friends sat in stunned silence along the lamp-lit tables. Adjustor Maio surveyed the stricken faces.
“The magnitude of the tragedy cannot be comprehended; but you must hear of its sequel as well. One industrial nation, Japan, emerged relatively intact because she had never built nuclear weapons and was therefore on none of the target lists; with Martian resources, Japan helped rebuild the rest of the world. And since all nations suffered greatly, it became possible for the first time for people everywhere to unite against war and to insure that this war was in fact the Last War.”
But at what price, wondered Allison. What price then; and what price now?
The Friends were still for some time. Across the field, youngsters had left their frisbees in the moss and the commensals had disappeared into the undergrowth.
At last came Lowell’s voice. “I feel called,” he began slowly, “to remind the Meeting of the counsel of our dear doctor Frances, whose voice was so well guided last anti-eve. Until yesterday, we on Foxfield believed that humans were no more on Earth. Today we see evidence that our brethren have not only survived, but have also learned to overcome their evils, perhaps in ways we could never have dreamed of. I hope and pray that this is so.”
Silence returned, until Anne Crain spoke. “Ours is not to judge,” she said, “but to follow the leading of the Lord. I believe Whittier wrote as follows to Sybil Jones, on the occasion of her mission to Palestine:
“Oh! blest to teach where Jesus taught,
And walk with Him Gennesaret’s strand;
But whereso’er His work is wrought
Dear hearts, shall be your Holy Land.”
Some listeners nodded and exchanged quiet words. But a harsher whisper was heard nearby. “Sinners they are,” said Noah. “God forsook them long ago. They should all have perished in their atom fire; if not, then let them burn eternally, for all I care.”
Allison frowned at this pronouncement and brushed her hair back. It was getting late, she realized.
“Is…anything left of America?” someone ventured.
“Of course,” said Adjustor Maio, “much land was reclaimed. My own Peruvian homeland preserved much of her prewar ecology…”
Allison rose and stretched her stocky limbs. “Come, Seth,” she said, “let’s round up that son of mine and head for home. We’ve some kilometers to walk and a long day ahead tomorrow.” She shivered in the night air.
Stars filled the sky tonight, and the moons Providence and Deliverance were both up. The stratosphere must have been calm, since only traces of aurora touched the horizon. On other nights the solar wind dipped into the magnetic field like a paintbrush and spread its colors far across the sky. The auroras were an endless source of fascination for Foxfielders, and although traditionalists frowned on fantasy, some Friends could not resist telling their children that the shimmering lights represented Joseph’s coat of many colors, or robes of the angels bearing messages to denizens of heaven. Tonight, however, the lights struck Allison as God’s curtain, fallen upon an age.
IV. Gateway
The ground dropped dizzily beneath their feet as the four Foxfielders peered at the view screen in the shuttle craft. Allison stared as the landscape shrank to a globe, then a disk, mottled in cloud masses and darker land areas. The jungles stretched across the southern base of the crescent-shaped continent which held all human settlement
s. With the exception of Coral Vale, the settlements lay farther north, where the fields yielded more readily to the human plow. They had attempted a sixth settlement near the jungle’s edge because of a rich iron ore deposit, but that was long past.
Lowell gasped. “Look there, Allison!”
As the night side of Foxfield rotated into view the auroras appeared—giant spirals, from above, which surged westward over thousands of kilometers. Then the luminous disk shrank slowly away to moon size.
Clifford rubbed his scalp and watched in fascination. Seth, however, was preoccupied with the commensal Ghareshl.
“Allison,” Seth called. “Ghareshl is distressed.”
Allison turned to speak, but her lips froze in alarm. The commensal’s coronal fronds were closed rigid and her frontal folds swelled, nearly covering her honeycombed eye.
“What’s wrong, what’s wrong?” Allison signaled quickly. She had to get through before the eye completely vanished. Perhaps it had been unwise to bring the Fraction, after all.
Several yellow tendrils poked cautiously out of the closed fronds. “World is gone,” Ghareshl signaled.
“That’s all she’ll say,” Seth added.
Citizens Rissa Nduni and Kyoko Aseda stepped forward. “What’s wrong with the creature?” the doctor asked.
Allison sighed and felt embarrassed, for she herself, as supposed local expert on such matters, had undertaken to coach her nonhuman friend on the environmental changes to expect from this trip to the UNIS-11. She tried the commensal reassurance formula: “‘I exist, you exist, World exists,’” she affirmed with a gesture of emphasis. “If I move away now, my wave-form shrinks, but—”
“Stay here!” Ghareshl insisted.
“Of course I stay here. World is bigger than it seemed,” Allison reminded her, groping for an analogy. “This…is like a gateway to another field.”
“Another World?” Ghareshl’s fronds unfolded slightly.
Then it clicked. This sign for “world” also meant “dipole” or “magnet.” The magnetic field was what she missed.
Still Forms On Foxfield Page 4
