61

The Nuclear Family

"There's a question I need answered," said the president. She glanced around the room. "I'm not sure that any one of us knows the answer, but we need to consider it before we go any further. "It's the moral question. It's the question of humanity."

I looked at the other men and women sitting around the table. Some looked unhappy. Others were puzzled or uncertain. One or two were making marks on their notepads. A few were studying their hands or their shoes. Where had I seen-? Oh, yes. It was called "reality evasion." When circumstances are confronting, our first reaction is to want to avoid confrontation.

"Wake up!" shouted the president. She'd seen it too. She was angry. "Whatever other considerations we may have discussed today, this is the one that has to be handled. This is the one that historians will focus on."

General Wainright said wryly, "If any."

The president looked at him. "I'm sure you meant that as a joke, General, but that is the issue here. How far are we willing to go to guarantee the survival of the human species?"

"As far as we have to, Ma'am. You've seen the contingency plans. Lunar evacuation, sterilization and recolonization if that's what it takes. Whatever it takes, Ma'am."

The president held up a hand. "General, I respect your commitment. As a matter of fact, not ten minutes ago, I was on the phone to the head of the Space Agency, authorizing the necessary mobilizations for reopening both LS projects and reestablishing the Lunar colonies."

Wainright looked surprised-and pleased.

"I tell you that now because I want you to let go of that long enough to participate in this discussion. All right?"

The general grinned. He was looking too satisfied to take note of the implied criticism.

The president turned back to the rest of the room. "Now then, here's where I want your advice. We're looking at the use of nuclear weapons on the Chtorran camps. The evidence of the video is that there are human beings living in the Chtorran camps. Living there peaceably. And that implies that they are in cooperation. Human beings and worms.

"It implies communication," she concluded.

The president turned to the tall dark-haired woman. "Dr. Zymph? Would you elaborate?"

Dr. Zymph straightened her notes in front of her. She studied them for a moment, then looked up again. "The question is this. What is the nature of the human-Chtorran relationship? Now that we know that communication is possible--0n whatever level it occurs-we have to reconsider all of our actions in that light.

"The possibility of communication reopens the opportunity for negotiation. Or does it? Do the Chtorrans recognize human beings as sentient or not? Would they recognize a human government? Would they make a treaty with us? Could we deal with their human intermediaries? It all hinges on the nature of that humanworm relationship.

"We need to consider the possibilities here. Is it a true partnership? A symbiosis? Is it a master and slave relationship? In which case, who are the masters in that camp? Or is it, as some have postulated, a circumstance of one species using the other as cattle?

"There is evidence to support all of those possibilities. None of it is compelling. It may be that the relationship in that camp is still in a state of flux. It may be that all of those possibilities exist to some degree or other. Or it may be some kind of relationship that we cannot comprehend because it is beyond our experience . . ."

"Excuse me, Ma'am." That was General Wainright again. He spoke in a soft southern drawl. That was a danger sign. It was a thin cover for his sarcasm. Usually, his demeanor was crisp. He said, "Y'are gonna answer some of these questions, aren't you?"

Dr. Zymph did not look annoyed. She merely looked back at him with a pleasant expression. "As a matter of fact, no, I'm not. We don't have the answers. Yet. What we have are some very good guesses based on some very bad evidence. That's the problem. We have to make our recommendations based on less than acceptable information."

The general leaned back in his chair. I couldn't tell if he was annoyed or satisfied that he'd trapped Dr. Zymph into admitting something. He said, "Well, with all due respect-could we cut to the chase?"

Dr. Zymph pushed her notes away. She looked upset. "The issue is this, General. We don't know what we're doing here. If we nuke that camp, we may be throwing away our opportunity at establishing a detente of some sort."

"Doctor," the general looked fierce. "There will be no detente with worms. This is a war. They are the enemy. If we talk detente, we might as well talk surrender-and walk willingly into their stewpots. Or have you forgotten? The worms are responsible for the deaths of over seven billion human beings-more than three quarters of our species is gone. Do you think that they now have some pressing reason to respect the rights of the rest of us? I doubt it a lot!"

Dr. Zymph waited till he ran down. Then she said, "As a matter of fact, so do I."

The general leaned back in his chair looking satisfied. I noticed that the President was holding a pen between her two hands, looking from one to the other. She was making no sign to interrupt.

Dr. Zymph said, "General, I have not lost sight of the larger context. However, we need to notice that something is going on here that does not appear to fit into that context. Is it possible that we are seeing the beginnings of a new context?"

"Well, Ma'am, when you figger that one out, let me know. We'll be just as happy to nuke the recontextualized worms as we are to nuke the old-fashioned kind."

When the laughter died down, Dr. Zymph turned to the president. "I'm through," she said quietly. "Are you clear on the question?"

The president nodded. She looked to the rest of us. "Is everybody else clear on the question? What is the nature of that human-Chtorran relationship? It very definitely affects the decision that we have to make here. Let me translate that into military language for General Wainright. Are those humans in those camps our enemies or our allies?"

She looked across the table at Colonel Tirelli. "Elizabeth," she said. "I believe you have some information on that. I think now would be a good time to bring that out."

Colonel Tirelli stood then. "Yes, Ma'am. Thank you." She addressed the room. "As you know, we've had the devil's own time trying to infiltrate worm zones. We've sent in a number of telepaths. We've lost them all." I wondered if Ted had been one of those.

She continued, "The bulk of our information about the human/Chtorran interface has come from captured renegades. Most of them have been so psychotic that communication has been next to impossible. We do know that there is an interface, though: It has been directly observed by one of our best agents." She stepped back and put a hand on my shoulder. "This is Captain McCarthy. He's spent the past year observing the worms in a wide variety of habitats. He has had personal experience with the renegades."

I noticed that General Wainright's aide was punching something into his clipboard. After a moment, he handed the clipboard over to the general, who studied it a moment and then raised his hand.

"Excuse me, Colonel . . ." He was holding up the clipboard. "But I can't find Captain McCarthy in the computer."

"Of course not," said Lizard. "I took him out."

"You what-?" The general's voice rose angrily. "Those files are supposed to be tamper-proof."

"Yes, they are," said Lizard. "That's why I took all record of Captain McCarthy out of them. I couldn't trust them. Captain McCarthy's role has been so secret that we wouldn't even trust our own security."