A World Between (38 page)

Female interviewer’s voiceover: “But you say you
are
going to vote for her anyway?”

Woman (shrugging at the Parliament building): “What’s the choice,
those
gutless wonders? They’ve got their cowardly fingers stuck up their asses. At least Madigan’s willing to put her career on the line to end the strikes.” Female interviewer’s voiceover: “You mean you’re in favor of closing the Institute but
against
the Femocratic League’s strike?”

Woman (smiling ironically): “Babe, I’ve been a lady-lover all my life, I’m as lesbo as any of these effing Femocrats. But that doesn’t make me any less of a Pacifican. Show me what their stupid strike has accomplished except to give the Bucko Power fanatics an excuse for a strike of their own and make every lesbo Pacifican’s patriotism seem suspect.... (somewhat sheepishly) Besides, I’ve just been layed off...

Cut a closeup of a tall, long-haired mano type, leaning against a bongo tree.

Mano: “I haven’t decided whether to vote for Madigan or not I’m all for Pacifica for the Pacificans, and the damn Femocrats
started
this mess; remember, the buckos are only striking to stop their power-trip against the Institute. So if Madigan tells me how she’s going to end both strikes without caving in to the Femocrats, she’s got this boy’s vote. Otherwise...e shrugs.

Cut to a full shot on two huge bipedal godzillas, immobilized by del gado boxes. A male whacker is mounted on one, a female on the other.

Male whacker': “You bet your wong we’re voting for Carlotta Madigan, boyo! The Institute’s our next-door neighbor, and it’s not bothering us a bit As for Femocracy...e sticks out his tongue and makes a ripe raspberry noise.

Female whacker: “We don’t need lames telling us who to get it off with; we don’t need fancy scientific toys; and we
sure
don’t need a bunch of shit-brained fanatics shutting down the whole damn Pacifican economy! Only thing I’ve got against Carlotta Madigan is she doesn’t go far enough...

Male whacker: “Yeah, what we
should
do is ship about thirty godzillas down to Valhalla and let the effing strikers try shouting their slogans at
them!
Same intellectual level, right and it’d make a flash epic. Pacifica for Pacificans, boyo! But then the rest of the planet
thinks
we’re crazy!”

They manipulate their controls and the two huge godzillas rear up suddenly, bellow, and salute with their tiny forearms.

Both whackers in chorus: “Pacifica for the Pacificans!” They break up into roaring laughter. “Godzilla Power!”

Cut to a two-shot on Carlotta Madigan and Royce Lindblad sitting side by side in Carlotta’s office. They’re both smiling slightly, their arms are touching, they radiate an aura of togetherness, and they seem to be speaking to each other, rather than to the camera.

Carlotta: “Well, babes, in the past few days, a lot of people seem to be coming to their senses.
We’ve
had our disagreements, too, in the past few weeks, but...

Royce: “Who wouldn’t, with the crap that’s being shoved down our throats? But I think that all Pacificans— faschochauvinist macho Fausts and ball-cutting crypto-Femocrats alike—are beginning to see that these strikes are hurting everyone except for a few fanatic off-worlders who couldn’t care less about the Pacifican economy anyway.”

Carlotta (looking at the camera now): “And we’ve come up with an equitable formula for stopping them.”

Royce: “That’s right While Parliament has been sitting on its hands,
we’ve
been doing some hard negotiating with Roger Falkenstein and we’ve forced him to accept the following modifications to the Madigan Plan ..

Carlotta: “The present student body of the Institute will be dismissed. The new student body will be chosen not by the Transcendental Scientists but by the Pacifican Ministry of Science. Their names will not even be revealed to the Transcendental Scientists, so there will be no possibility of political screening on their part. No drugs may be given to the students without prior Ministry of Science approval. I am implementing this agreement as of today on my personal authority as Chairman of Pacifica. As far as I’m concerned, this puts the Institute under effective Pacifican control, and removes any further excuse for the Thule strikes.”

Royce: “I’ve been convinced that Pacifica must have an Institute of Transcendental Science all along, and as far as
I’m
concerned, this is the Pacifican way of doing it!”

The camera moves in for a closeup on Carlotta. Carlotta: “I’ve based my campaign on a promise to end these strikes if I win, but with this agreement now in hand, I’ve decided that
action
speaks louder than words. There are now two days till the electronic vote. Royce and I are going to Thule immediately and we won’t come back until we’ve ended these strikes. If we haven’t accomplished this by election day, I say vote me out of office forever! But when we end these strikes— and we effing well
will
— I say that anyone who votes against me
then
is voting against sanity, against reason, and against Pacifica itself.” The camera pulls back for a two-shot on Royce and Carlotta.

Royce: “We negotiated this agreement as a
team,
we’re going to end these strikes as a
team,
and we hope you’ll think of us as a team when it’s time to vote. Not for a woman or a man but for two
Pacificans
who love each other, who respect each other, and who are working to make this planet what it is meant to be once more—
Pacifica for the Pacificansl”

Royce and Carlotta put their arms around each other, smile at the camera, and kiss briefly.

Carlotta: “If
that
be treason to my sex, I say let’s make the most of it!”

Her mind honed to keen-edged clarity by the forces converging on this pivotal moment of personal and planetary destiny, Carlotta Madigan strode into the cavernous silent machine shop where the strike committee awaited her. Five tough-looking women in gray jumpsuits sat on chairs around an empty workbench, their arms folded sullenly across their breasts, their hostile eyes tracking her as she walked deliberately across the echoing concrete floor past the rows of paralyzed engine lathes.

Well, you brought this on yourself, she thought as she stood before them. Despite the success of the last net appearance, the vote was still going against her, even as Royce had predicted. Howls of rage were still echoing, not only from the Femocrats and their supporters, but from the overwhelming majority of Delegates, who felt that she had exceeded her authority. The 40 percent support that the polls now showed—hard-core Pacificans for Pacifica and people with enough sanity left to vote their bank balances—was a hopeful sign, but the only real chance of winning the vote of confidence lay right here and now, in stunning the 60 percent against her by ending the strikes forthwith. This was the moment of truth, and no fucking strike committee was going to be allowed to stand in her way.

“Well, what’s your proposal?” said a hard-faced, sandyhaired woman who Carlotta recognized as Susan Willaway, both the strike leader and a heavy in the Femocratic League of Pacifica.

Screw diplomacy! Carlotta thought She remained standing, assumed a belligerent hands-on-hips posture. “No
pro-

261

posed,
sister,” she said. “I’m here as the head of government to
order
you to end your strike.”

“Don’t
sister
us, you effing breeder-lover!” Susan Will-away snapped. “And don’t think you can order us around either. You think you and that faschochauvinist Lindblad can—”

“Shut your fucking face!” Carlotta roared. She perched on the edge of the workbench and stared the strike committee down. “You
are
going to obey my order, and now I’m going to tell you why.”

“Oh, really?”
Susan Willaway sneered to the nervous laughter of the rest of the strike committee.

“For sure,” Carlotta said coldly. “Because you’d find the alternative totally unacceptable. If I
don’t
leave here with your agreement to bring this strike to an immediate end, I will come out immediately for the expulsion of the Femocrats and the retention of the Institute.”

All five women laughed, and the tension seemed to go out of them. “Some threatl” a lanky redhead said. “The lame duck Chairman is going to take a position against us. We’re just
terrified,
sister.”

“So you don’t think I have a chance of winning the vote of confidence, do you?” Carlotta said, forcing a tone of confident superiority into her voice.

“Do you?” Susan Willaway said with equal disdain.

“By a landslide if I end these strikes,” Carlotta said, “and that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

Now they regarded her as if she had gone totally around the bend. “You’ll win if you end the strikes and you’ll blackmail us into ending the strike after you win the vote,” Susan Willaway said. ‘"Seems to me your reasoning’s a bit circular,
sister Carlotta paused. She forced a smile. Now it’s time for the little self-fulfilling prophecy, she thought. Royce, don’t let me down! “Seems to me you haven’t looked at the numbers,
sister,”
she said. “I just unilaterally implemented an agreement to keep the Institute open for the duration of the Madigan Plan. Which means every bucko on the planet is going to vote for me.”

“And every sister will vote against you,” sneered a heavy-set committee member. “You think we’re
afraid
of that kind of total polarization?”

No, Carlotta thought, that’s exactly what you stupid bitches think you want! “I’ll pick up enough female votes to win if you continue this strike,” die said. “In fact, I’ll get them over your politically dead bodies—when the male workers here end
their
strike unilaterally.”

“ff'hca?”

Carlotta laughed. “What do they have left to strike about now?” she said. “I’ve given them what they wanted.” She paused. “At this very moment, Royce is finalizing our agreement with them to do just that.”

That brought them up a little short; the logic of it was self-evident, even to these politically naive ideologues. If only Royce can close the loop on this
self-f
ulfillin
g
prophecy.

“And
that’s
supposed to get you female votes?” Susan Willaway said, only a shade less confidently. “You openly sell your sisters out to the Transcendental Scientists and you’ve got the endorsement of the faschochauvinist strikers to prove it, and you expect a single sister to vote for you? You’re pathetic, Carlotta Madigan!”

“And you’ve got your brain so far up your cunt you forget that there are Pacifican women who don’t think the way you do,” Carlotta snapped. “You’re looking at one right now, you asshole! Twenty-five percent of the female electorate is unemployed now, thanks to these strikes. How many of those votes do I have to pick up to win with the buckos solidly behind me? Ten percent? Five? Three? You think three percent of those women aren’t going to vote against you to get their jobs back? Are you really that stupid? You think every woman on this planet is a bug-brained fanatic like yourself?”

“You’re disgusting!” Susan Willaway shouted.

“You’re a traitor to your sex!”

“You’re a tool of the faschochauvinists!”

They were screaming like godzillas with ironbush thorns up their asses now; in other words, they were on the run.

“Continue your strike, and you’ll see just how disgusting I can really get,” Carlotta said. “Give me a chance to make you godzilla-brained cretins the villains of the piece —the
only
ones keeping this planet from going back to work. The subversive pawns of the Femocrats. Un-Pacif-can lesbian man-hating destroyers of the Pacifican economy.
Trcdtorsl
And don’t think I’d be beyond having you
indicted
for treason, either.”

Carlotta smiled sweetly as the committee members balled their hands into impotent fists. “You know, I’m doing you a favor,” she said. “I’m giving you a political out. The male strike is over, period. Continue
your
strike, and all you do is provide some cheap propaganda for the Bucko Power creeps and make my inevitable political victory a victory for Transcendental Science. Contrary to what you think, I don’t want that any more than you do. But goddamn it, sisters, I’ll take what I can get if you force me to!”

Carlotta stood up. “Enough,” she said. “You agree to obey my order now, or the next step is the Ministry of Justice.”

The committee members exchanged frustrated angry glances for a few moments. Susan Willaway finally spoke in a sullen, subdued voice. “If we end our strike, you’ll announce it as our own voluntary decision?”

“We’ll announce the end of both strikes simultaneously,” Carlotta said. “You can all come up smelling like patriots.”

“You guarantee a simultaneous end to the Bucko Power strike?”

Carlotta nibbled at her lower lip. Well what do I have to lose? she thought. “I told you that already,” she said.

The committee members began muttering among themselves. After a few moments, Susan Willaway cut them off with a peremptory wave of the hand. No doubt as to who was really running
this
show! She glowered at Carlotta. She bit her lip. “On that basis, it seems we have no choice,” she said quietly.

“None whatever,” Carlotta said, fighting back a triumphant grin and extending her hand instead. Susan Willaway drew back with a disgusted snort. “Up yours, you traitor!” she snarled.

“Likewise, I’m sure,” Carlotta said blithely. She turned her back and walked slowly out of the silent machine shop, knowing that the morning would see it humming with life, knowing that the vote of confidence was now won, knowing that she had once more steered the ship of state on a
Pacifican
course between the hard rocks of competing off-worlder ideologies. That is, she thought a shade more uncertainly, if Royce has had the same luck I have!