The Highest Frontier (57 page)

At her podium, Anna of course showed no lack of confidence. This was precisely the kind of question her trainers had drilled her on for weeks. “Clive, I’m so glad you asked that question. Exactly what Glynnis and I ask ourselves every morning, when we get up and hear the birds singing—the few that remain on Earth, unlike this pristine spacehab. What to do about moral America? The morality of a country that turns aside from our shrinking farmlands? That turns a deaf ear to the songbird?” She nodded meaningfully. “Unity is on record: We will pitch in and literally turn the tide of the rising seas. We will be good stewards of Earth, as our Creator commanded.

“As for public largess: Unity is on the record of denying any house edge increase for any taxplayer program. Our ‘smart start’ plan will improve public health, increase home ownership, and send more children to college—all achieved through smart fiscal management, with no impact on the public game.

“We don’t try for the kind of brainstream control that some of our opponents do. We maintain a ‘big tent’ philosophy: If your world has a Firmament, we can still work together. Together we can still support NASA, that great American institution, to resume humanity’s quest for the heavens—in outer space, and inner spirit.”

Anna’s response clocked in precisely to the number of seconds allotted. The pollmeter rose hopefully. NASA—people worshiped the Firmament, yet they still thrilled to the sight of a spaceship tilting into it.

“Governor Guzmán, your turn,” observed Clive. “What is your plan, to turn around America’s moral decline?”

The Cuban governor gave his best avuncular smile, the kind of smile Jenny knew well from her own extended family. “Clive, with due respect I must say I don’t wake up and listen to birds, or any other pagan creature that might tempt animal desires. First thing when we wake up, Betty and I pray to our Creator. Pray to overcome that day’s temptations, and all temptations of the days to come.” The governor nodded meaningfully. “As for public largesse, well, as we say where I come from,
¡No me digas!
It was Unity, and its twenty-first-century forerunners, that drove our country into debt.” The line drew applause. Not that the past decade had restored a dime.

“Now as to these signs of earthly distress—the famines, the rising seas—all of these point to God’s wrath. And His judgment on people that make their living off the most vile practices, such as those sponsored by my opponent’s running mate.” More applause.

“God’s wrath cannot be stayed; but we can prepare for His coming. Like Noah, we can build arks for the righteous. Space habitats like this one. Here at Frontera, can anyone doubt that the original Garden looked just like this? Depend on it, the Guzmán administration will build the spacehabs to transport the righteous above the Earth’s destruction, in the coming time of Tribulation.”

The deep voice echoed back from the northern cap, the hills of Lake Erie.

“Governor Carrillo,” called Clive. “Your response?”

At her podium Anna hesitated. Or rather, she waited, as if watching something beyond the audience. “You know, Clive,” she began slowly. “I’ve been thinking. In fact, I’d like the audience to spend half my response time thinking about your question.”

In the audience eyes blinked and exchanged furtive glances. Feet scraped on the grass. A flock of sparrows rose from a nearby maple. Something scampered across Jenny’s foot; she startled. Only a blue-tailed skink.

“Something about the atmosphere of this frontier college habitat,” Anna observed, “must have clarified my thinking. I’m thinking: Why should any thoughtful person have faith in my candidacy, with a running mate whose livelihood harms American families? No matter what the calculation, whatever good we’ve done, how can people believe we will be good stewards of Earth? Whatever the great plans of our party, they only sound like a clanging gong or cymbal.”

A breeze lifted the grass. From humans there was not a sound. Clive, too, watched as if mesmerized. Then he caught himself. “Excuse me. Governor, your time is up. Governor Guzmán, your … response?”

Gar’s mouth was rolled up like a window blind, as if it were determined not to open that day. “There is truth in what you say.” He hesitated. “And you know, something about this frontier air has made me wonder a few other things. Like, if games of chance are against the Word on Earth, then how can they be
muy bien
out in orbit?” He paused at this novel thought. “And another thing. If relations with animals really are harmful to the soul on Earth, then how come they’re not just as harmful to my Christian brothers on their vacations on the moon?”

Jenny’s jaw dropped. Feeling faint, she realized she’d been holding her breath, and let it out with a rush.

Anna came out from behind the podium and faced the audience. “Gar is right. And another thing we might think about together is the Firmament. The reason this ‘Firmament’ is wrong has nothing to do with science. Even if the ‘Firmament’ could be consistent with an honest understanding of the heavens—it would be wrong. It’s a belief totally self-centered. How can we teach children that the entire universe revolves around our own selfish existence? When God so clearly expects us to grow beyond what we are now.”

From his podium Gar came forward too. “God does expect us to grow beyond; beyond even the Firmament. And that’s what has me wondering. Calculating, in fact. How many people are to be saved? How many spacehabs do we need to build, for all the righteous people of Earth, and their children? When I was a child, I thought like a child. I tried to learn the math, but I never quite got it. How can anyone be president who can’t do the math?”

Anna nodded. “That’s right, Gar. And how can anyone accomplish anything as president while trying to agree with everyone? When I was a child, I thought like a child. I never learned to make hard choices.”

“When I was a child, I reasoned as a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish things.”

“It’s all a puzzle, but I’m beginning to see.”

Clive came around in front of his podium and joined the two candidates up front. “You know, something about the air of this high frontier college has got me thinking outside the box today. In fact, I just realized that it’s more important for the people of this country to listen to the candidates than admire my hair.” He nodded at the enormity of this revelation. “So if I may suggest—”

The hab went black. Not just dark, like the usual Frontera brownout. Jenny’s toybox went blank. Gasps and shouts in the audience. No one knew what had happened. After an interminable moment, emergency lights came on in the trees around the hill, shedding isolated pools of light at intervals. Not a window in her box, but by now Jenny well knew the EMS drill: Activate backup lights, check the sewage pumps, shut down the elevator—

“A trick,” hissed Anouk.
“No
accident. Someone shut us down.”

Shut down a presidential debate? There were always dirty tricks on both sides, but endangering a spacehab—
diable
.

“Remain seated.” From a DIRG somewhere amid the peepers, a voice called. “Audience remain in your seats.”

A rush of voices swelled through the audience. Colored feathers appeared in the trees: red, blue, and green, the Mound’s emergency system. The DIRGs sprouted searchlights that swept around the audience, and then upward, lighting up the forest across the hab.

Anouk squeezed Jenny’s hand. “We lost more than our Earth-based support this time—much more. Accident, this was not.” Accident indeed. But who stood to gain from election folly?

Tom’s head wheeled around. “Could it flood?”

Jenny thought quickly. “Only if the pumps went out.”

“We’ve made lifeboats,” Tom said, “but not yet enough.”

Charlie leaned over. “About fifty, I think. Father Clare would know.”

Within the bell jar the emergency light remained, but no sound emerged, although the three performers could be seen conferring intently. At one point, Clive drew out a ten-dollar dime and flipped it in the air. The two candidates peered at the result.

“Calm, everyone,” came Uncle Dylan’s voice, hypnotic in its reassurance, just like when the bear had interrupted convocation. “If we pursue a true frontier, as indeed we do—what’s a frontier without a few power-downs. Those of us who live and work here are used to it. There is no danger, but the security of our candidates requires that we suspend our event. In the spirit of our great nation, I ask that we all do our utmost to cooperate, enabling our secure departure from the powwow ground; and for visitors, orderly departure from Frontera. We wish that your stay could have been less brief…”

The candidates had already descended into the Mound. Already people in the aisle seats were rising as directed, the DIRGs escorting them out.

“Wait!” Jenny shot up from her seat. “I have to tell her—”

A hand gripped her shoulder. One of the Weavers, kind but firm. The star lapel turned orange. The broad chin said, “Wait your turn, dear.”

Jenny’s toybox was empty; she felt blind without it. Her head darted this way and that. “Glynnis!” she shouted. “It’s me, Jenny—listen—”

“Quiet, please. Stay here.”

She gave up; she would have to wait till ToyNet came back.

Suddenly the Weaver shifted position, and several others moved over. Jenny caught a glimpse of Glynnis, arguing with her escort. Finally the candidate First Lady got within earshot.

“Glynnis? I can explain—”

“You’d better,” said Glynnis. “What were they smoking?”

Jenny gulped. “Um—” She looked back at the stage, just visible in the gloom. “The little spoon leaves.”

Glynnis stared. “Got it.”

*   *   *

Away from the powwow ground, Jenny hurried south on Buckeye Trail, the yellow night lights on. “I need to check the lab, in case Abaynesh can’t,” she told her friends. “The plants, the snakes, and the ultra room.”

“The pile worms too?” asked Tom.

“Of course, they’re all in the basement with the ultra.”

Tom nodded. “I need to check the lifeboats; make sure they’re out clear of amyloid. After watching that castle…”

Abruptly some windows returned. “Local service only,” announced Valadhkani from Toy Land.

Anouk nodded. “We’ll stay in touch. I must check my Mandelbrot cottage; the mechanism is so delicate.”

“And our cars,” Rafael added. “They’re delicate too. If the power surged—” For a moment Rafael and Jenny locked stares. Whatever did he make of what had transpired?

She looked back at Tom. With one last squeeze of his hand, she turned and hurried off to the lab.

*   *   *

Reagan Hall looked the same as usual. “Professor?” No response from her window. Within the building, all the lights were on in the right places. The generator must be working; for how long, Jenny had no idea. The hidden two-headed snakes looked fine. The plant lab was fine, except for the missing reverse controls. Jenny’s scalp prickled; what would Abaynesh do when she found out? She had hoped to fetch them back after the debate, but now everything was mixed up.

In the basement, the pile worms were fine; when she tapped their tank, they slithered away. The chickens clucked, barely audible above the ventilator hiss. The tanks of ultra beneath looked the same as usual, except for the one in the middle. A large snake-form ultraphyte undulated beneath the ultraviolet light source. It looked a lot bigger than she remembered. Surprising, as she knew the professor limited their growth with salt.

Suddenly she remembered something. “Where is Mary?” She realized no one had seen Mary all day. She looked around the large tank. “Mary, are you here?”

A scrap of cloth lay on the floor. A piece of clothing; Mary’s old tie-dyed shift.
Dios mío
—had the ultraphyte—

Jenny screamed. She blinked all the windows she could: Abaynesh, her friends, Father Clare.
“Mary Dyer! The ultra ate her!”
She sprinted to the door. The first of three containment doors opened, then closed behind her.

As she ran upstairs, she ran straight into Professor Abaynesh. “Stay out,” Jenny gasped.

The professor put down her academic gown from the powwow ground. “Ultras are not carnivores. They use ultrasynthesis.”

“But—she’s
gone
straight out of her dress.” Like the Rapture. Jenny blinked for her mental. “Did you see it? Didn’t you?”

In Jenny’s window Marilyn pursed her lips. “We saw a dress on the floor. We saw several dangerous captive ultraphytes. I must say, I’m not certain you’re the one here that needs a mental.”

Jenny avoided relaying the last bit. “My mental saw it too.”

The professor clicked open the door, then the next one. She led the way into the room.

There stood Mary, in her dress. Her hands crept up and down her sides, as usual. As if nothing happened.
But from where?

Mary asked, “Where did the light go?”

“We lost power,” Abaynesh told her. “The whole hab. The hab needs more energy.”

“Where did
you
go?” demanded Jenny.

“We’re sorry you were scared,” Mary said in Dean Kwon’s voice. “If you could make cyanide, you would feel better.”

The big tank was empty. “But it was full.”

“Well,” said the professor, “keep quiet about it. Imagine what they’ll do to her.”

Jenny backed away until her hands pressed the wall. “You’re … a…”

“We are ultraphyte,” Mary said. “We study humans. We stayed home, like you said.”

“You did,” agreed the professor. “I’m sorry, the game is up. I kept you as long as I could.”

“You
knew
she was an ultraphyte?” said Jenny.

“What else could I do? You left her in my lab,” the professor reminded her. “What would the world do to her? What they did to Anne Frank?”

“We don’t eat humans,” Mary added. “We just borrow their DNA.”

The door burst open. Anouk rushed in, followed by Tom and Father Clare. Anouk gave a critical look. “She looks fine to me.”

“She’s a mandrake.”

Anouk’s eyes widened. Her chin nodded ever so slightly, as if a final calculation fell into place.

“What?” exclaimed Tom. “Are
both
you two
chicas
insane?”