The Margarets (13 page)

That item disposed of, the Chairman introduced an elderly woman as “a member of the Siblinghood, Lady Badness.” I saw one of my fellow students silently convulsed at this introduction, though from the look of the lady’s face, amusement was not appropriate.

She introduced herself as the chairman of a biracial committee of Gentherans and Humans that had spent some forty-odd Earth-years trying to devise a nontraumatic method of depopulating Earth in order to prevent the final collapse of the biome on the one hand and a visit by ISTO slaughterers on the other. She spoke of the colonies as “emergency, last-ditch attempts to guarantee human survival and the survival of thousands of species of Earth organisms in case the slaughterers could not be forestalled.”

She said she had several points to make. I set myself to remember them.

Firstly, she said Earth’s governments had been warned that depopulation was an absolute necessity for Earth’s survival. Secondly, she said the government had justified its inaction by quoting the standard statistical projections indicating that population growth was slowing, that as soon as all parts of the world had equal economic opportunities, population growth would stop, and total population might even drop. Thirdly, she admitted the standard projections were irrefutable but totally irrelevant, as human population had exceeded the number Earth could support over a century ago. Even while ice caps melted, while prehistoric aquifers dried up and the lands over those aquifers began to subside, governments had refused to acknowledge that humans were responsible. Only when aliens arrived
in starships to tell them the end had come did governments try to deal with the situation, and by then, it was too late.

She said, “Outshipment, as you know, has slightly slowed but failed to stop the process.”

Several people around the table uttered angry variations on “We know all that,” rather loudly and, I thought, rudely.

Lady Badness merely stared at them until they subsided. “Of course you do. So do I, but we’re putting it into the record one more time, just in case at some future time someone questions what we’ve said and thought and decided. This brings us to the fourth and final point. We must choose between two repellent futures:

“A, we do nothing, and the ISTO slaughterers will kill over ninety percent of all of the people now alive on Earth. I have seen records of that process. The best one can say for it is that it doesn’t take long. It is both quicker and bloodier than the demise of Cranesroost. It is not a process I wish on any population, however, no matter how pigheaded that population may be.

“B, we impose the solution Dominion and the Siblinghood have been working on since Dominion was formed: the sterilization of ninety-nine point something-or-other percent of Earth’s population.”

I happened to be looking across the table at Chili. I saw her shoulders heave as she took a deep breath. I glanced at my fellow students. They looked outraged. I had been numb since the Cranesroost experience, and I stayed that way.

Lady Badness went on:

“Gentheran Research Laboratories has completed testing of the planetary sterilant. It will kill no one. It will simply make ninety-nine-plus percent of the fertile persons on Earth live out their lives without progeny. A small, random fraction of human beings has a genetic resistance to the sterilant. This genetic resistance is found among all subgroups of the population. There will be no genocide of any cult, culture, or coloration.”

I sat with my mouth open, unable to believe what I was hearing. Around the table were murmurs and outcries. My fellow students were now whispering to one another.

“Those affected by the sterilant will produce a pheromonic byproduct attractive only to other sterilized persons. There will be
no other changes. People will continue to ‘fall,’ as they say, in love, but it will be the sterile with the sterile, the fertile with the fertile. Natural life cycles will go on, but very few people will have children.

“Today our only decision is to choose: A or B.”

The Chairman spoke: “We will have no more discussion today. We act, or ISTO acts. Suffering is minimized if we act. Slaughter is certain if we do not. Will someone move the question?…I recognize Maintainer Chili Mech.”

Chili moved that the Gentherans be directed to go ahead with the sterilant. The Chairman called for a second and got it. The vote was yes. Someone asked when it would take place. Sister Lorpa said within the year. Then nobody said anything for what seemed to be a very long time, and the Chairman announced a break for refreshment.

Chili came over and led me to a little table against the wall. All three of my fellow students had Lady Badness trapped in a far corner and were talking at her, too volubly, I thought, too disrespectfully. Chili followed my line of sight and shook her head, very slightly. “That’s not a good idea,” she said.

“I know,” I murmured. “But it’s very much in character for them. Usually, if they don’t like something, the something ceases to exist.”

“Really,” she said. “Wait for me, Margaret. I’ll get us something to drink.”

I saw her speaking briefly to a couple of guards, who went to Lady Badness’s rescue. Chili returned with the Gentheran, Sister Lorpa, whom I recognized by the insignia on her helmet. I rose and gave the half bow that is considered polite among Gentherans, saying, “It is rude of us to drink when you are denied refreshment.”

“Not at all,” she said, in that high, sweet voice. “Our suits provide whatever hydration we need. I understand you are here as an observer, under a vow of silence. You were much surprised by what you heard?”

I said, yes, I was, though I understood the reasons. What I was actually thinking at that moment was whether it had ever been important to me to have children.

She sat down with us, and Chili asked her what the next step would be.

“It’s all been planned,” she replied. “First, we’ll mount a saturation publicity campaign announcing that population stasis has been reached. Since this has been forecast by politicians and proliferators for the past century, it will surprise no one and mollify many. We will announce that the population has crested and is now beginning to decline, very slowly. Newssheets will cover this event. There will be interviews with prominent pronatalist officials and religious leaders telling us how gratified they are. Our polls indicate that virtually all humans will be delighted with the news.

“At the end of the first year, population will indeed have declined by between one and two percent. We will issue frequent glowing reports on how well this is going. We do not plan any outreach effort among those who are infertile, but every childbirth will serve to identify those who are immune. The immunes must be provided with intensive reeducation. Meantime, the two-three-four rule will continue to be observed. Outshipment will continue.”

“Must it?” I asked, a little fretfully, I’m afraid.

Sister Lorpa’s faceplate turned toward me. “Your government has contracts with the Federation and the Combine. Unless you want a war of retribution, those contracts must be honored…”

“Well then, if outshipment is to proceed, will intensive education really be necessary?” I wondered aloud.

She did not answer, for we were being approached by a tall, dark man dressed in velvets, brocades, and gems.

“Sister Lorpa,” he said, half bowing.

“Delegate from Chottem, Von Goldereau d’Lornschilde,” she said, turning toward me as if to introduce me.

He did not wait for this. “May I once again plead with your people to find my kinswoman, the heiress of Bray! She would be an adult woman now, some twenty Earth-years old! She is needed in Bray, and if she no longer lives, then evidence of that is needed in Bray! Our economic future depends upon it!”

Sister Lorpa said expressionlessly, “We are aware of your concerns, Delegate. Be assured, if we can assist in finding your kinswoman, we will do so.”

He half bowed again and nodded to Chili, totally ignoring me.

“You asked about the need for education,” Sister Lorpa said,
when he had departed. “Delegate d’Lornschilde is from Chottem. He is a descendent of the founders of that colony, and he is claimant to the estate of Stentor d’Lorn, which, in truth, represents a large part of the gross planetary wealth. He pretends he doesn’t care about the estate. At every meeting he urges us to find Stentor’s granddaughter and return her to Bray! It is all pretence and bluster; his real interest is in finding evidence of her death so he can claim the estate, for, like the rest of his family, he is interested in nothing but money and power. Despite the fact that he and all his kinfolk had to leave Earth because Earth had been destroyed by money and power, he has already asked the Dominion Central Authority for permission to exceed the population limits set for Chottem, excusing this on the basis that construction creates many of their jobs, which means more profit for him.

“Earth listened to that ‘we have to make room’ kind of nonsense for hundreds of years, and look where Earth is now! That man has taken no lesson from it. Human beings are incapable of learning anything outside their own lifetimes! We fight against this disability constantly! Oh, if only…” She sighed. “Well, ‘if only’ butters no beans, as you humans used to say.”

“Sister, you’re not going to tell the people of Earth about the sterilant, are you?” I asked, unthinking. I put my hand over my mouth. “Oh, forgive me…”

“There is nothing to forgive. No. We will not tell them. Siblinghood has a definition of evil that our group has tried to keep in mind during our deliberations.
‘To cause any creature willful pain is evil; to pretend that another sentient creature cannot feel pain is evil; to enjoy the pain of another, sentient or insentient, is ultimate evil.’
We would be causing willful pain if we told them; we would be committing evil if we allowed the slaughter of mankind through our own inaction. The population drop will not be sudden. Those who die will be those one would expect to die, the aged, victims of accidents, the chronically ill. The human population will dwindle gradually over the next century, slightly over one percent of the original population per year, with only a tiny fraction of that number being born. At some point, when living conditions have improved, we will set the record straight for future generations.”

I asked, “What about those who want to have children and can’t?”

The mirrored hood turned in my direction, showing me my own troubled face. “Some couples may be disappointed not to have children, but in most cases they will not speak of it, and neither will anyone else. It has been a long time since any pregnant woman showed herself in public on Earth. Since the plague, the war, and the Lifer-Limiter uprising of ’81 and ’82, people on Earth have not spoken of reproductive matters except behind closed doors, and very rarely even then.”

She was perfectly right. People would not speak of it. They would be glad to have a little more water in their ration, a little different food to eat. Perhaps two “admit-to-the-park” permission slips each year instead of only one.

Sister Lorpa left us, and I asked Chili something that had been on my mind since the session. “What is this Siblinghood everyone refers to?”

She frowned, shaking her head. “They don’t define it. One gets the impression it’s a kind of lodge or secret society that does very technical, scientifically advanced work. It has both humans and Gentherans as members, and it is alleged to have members from other races as well. Their financing is secret. Their work is secret. When they have something to offer, they offer it. They’re the ones who found out why mankind always destroys his environment…”

“What?” I demanded in astonishment. “There’s a known cause?”

Chili gritted her teeth. “Margaret, forget I mentioned it! Remember, you’re under a vow of silence. Yes, there is a reason, but it’s not to be mentioned. You may learn of in time.”

She returned to the table as the group reconvened, and several Gentherans spoke of the plans for rehabilitation of Earth. Much of it would be done by the Gentheran-Human Rehabilitation Corps, a body organized by the Siblinghood (here they were again). As soon as five percent of housing space opened up in any city, people would be moved into that space from suburbs of that city. The suburbs, when emptied, would be razed, highways leading to them would be removed, the land would be reseeded and reforested. These would be enormous jobs, so we were told, that would offer full employment
to anyone wishing to work. Merely replanting desert provinces such as those formerly known as Brazil, Canada, Central Africa, and Indonesia would occupy several centuries’ worth of effort.

Since cities were more efficient and easier to maintain as habitat than extensive, land-consuming suburbs, they would continue to absorb smaller urbs until all of them were gone. As space opened up in the cities, dwellings would be consolidated, and buildings would be razed to create parklands within the cities themselves, so that no dwelling would be far from open, green space. Outside the cities, reclaimed land would not be farmed until the population had dropped to the point that some or all of the algae factories could be closed.

Eventually, dairy animals would be returned to Earth, they said, and the seas would be restocked with fish and other living things. “It is possible even whales may be restored in time,” a Gentheran said, visibly moved by the idea. “We have the genetic information, and it is not beyond our capabilities. When natural space is restored, human people will be allowed to wander through it at will, so long as they do so on foot or on muscle-powered vehicles, taking with them only what they can carry. The use of destructive, noisy machinery for recreational purposes must become anathema to humans, as unthinkable as eating one’s young.”

We were referred to the reports and studies supporting the plan, and to the specifications for each separate area, available in the document department together with a timeline of the expected stages of rehabilitation. I was not allowed to see or receive the documents, of course, just as I was not allowed to take notes or speak with anyone about what I had learned. All very strange and frightening.