Read Online A World Between by Norman Spinrad - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Norman Spinrad
Ads: Link
steered that resolution through today. And the way he built the press release around his own speech afterward. He maneuvered Parliament the way he sails a boat, tacking with the wind, gliding frictionlessly through the storm, without ever facing the real issue head-on and powering through it.
What if this Falkenstein is a political sailor like Royce? What if he fools us all and accepts the conditions Royce assumed would be unacceptable? If he says yes—no matter what it really means—how can we say no—especially with Royce so publicly identified with the line we’re taking? Wouldn’t it have been better to have gotten a loud no vote on principle up front, even though the margin of victory would’ve been much smaller than this overwhelming but ambiguous consensus?
But Royce had made the decision for her. He had acted unilaterally, and now he at least appeared publicly to be the pilot of a policy he had created. This was something new in their political relationship, and she didn’t like it. And truth be told, she didn’t much like herself for not liking it. Are you some kind of crypto-Femocrat at heart, Carlotta Madigan? she asked herself half-seriously. Does your bucko always have to walk two steps behind you?
“Do you really believe everything you said today, Royce?” she asked.
Royce glanced at her peculiarly.
“I mean, what if Falkenstein accepts the conditions in the resolution? How do we say no to an Institute of Transcendental Science then?”
Royce laughed. “First of all, I think the chances of that happening are zip,” he said. “Secondly, if he should accept our conditions, what would be wrong with having an Institute anyway?”
“What?”
“What do you mean, what?” Royce snapped. “I meant what I said. If we can have Transcendental Science without political strings, without interference in our way of life, and without helping to maintain their monopoly, then why not? Give me one good reason!”
“Why ... ah ... I guess it’s just a gut-feeling, Royce,” Carlotta said lamely, unable to explain it even to herself. “I mean, who wants the Pink and Blue War... ?”
“But if Falkenstein accepts our terms—which he won’t anyway—how does that involve us in the Pink and Blue War? If anything, it’ll help end the damned thing. Without the Transcendental Science monopoly, the dynamic for the war no longer exists. Truth be told, that’s what I’d like to see happen. Wouldn’t you?”
“Ah... er, I suppose so,” Carlotta said distantly. “I guess I’m just a little edgy... Something about that Falkenstein bothers me on an irrational level, is all...” “Hmmmm...oyce muttered, and turned his attention back to the set of the sails and the sea before him. As the first stars of night began to dust the darkening sky, the two of them sat apart, brooding on their own private thoughts.
That in itself disturbed Carlotta as she gazed up at the night sky. For truth be told, Carlotta hated the thing that was moving toward them with a passion beyond all rational political logic. It seemed that the shadow of the Arkology Heisenberg had already darkened their own intimate landscape.
4
D R. R OGER F ALKENSTEIN FELT THAT HE STOOD AT THE brink of a mission that might be a major inflection point in the upward curve of human history. Or a break-point in the steady hyperbolic rise should he fail.
Rising through the liftube at the long axis of the Heisenberg from his quarters on 12-deck to the main briefing room on 2-deck, Falkenstein passed through nine typical decks of the Arkology, which he thought of as neither vehicle of transit nor home.
Three of the decks through which he passed were nothing more than human warehouses: tier upon tier of Deep Sleep chambers in which, at any given time, the majority of the Arkology’s inhabitants spent the years between meaningful activities in suspended animation, editing their long lifespans into continuous dramas of peak experiences by removing all
What if this Falkenstein is a political sailor like Royce? What if he fools us all and accepts the conditions Royce assumed would be unacceptable? If he says yes—no matter what it really means—how can we say no—especially with Royce so publicly identified with the line we’re taking? Wouldn’t it have been better to have gotten a loud no vote on principle up front, even though the margin of victory would’ve been much smaller than this overwhelming but ambiguous consensus?
But Royce had made the decision for her. He had acted unilaterally, and now he at least appeared publicly to be the pilot of a policy he had created. This was something new in their political relationship, and she didn’t like it. And truth be told, she didn’t much like herself for not liking it. Are you some kind of crypto-Femocrat at heart, Carlotta Madigan? she asked herself half-seriously. Does your bucko always have to walk two steps behind you?
“Do you really believe everything you said today, Royce?” she asked.
Royce glanced at her peculiarly.
“I mean, what if Falkenstein accepts the conditions in the resolution? How do we say no to an Institute of Transcendental Science then?”
Royce laughed. “First of all, I think the chances of that happening are zip,” he said. “Secondly, if he should accept our conditions, what would be wrong with having an Institute anyway?”
“What?”
“What do you mean, what?” Royce snapped. “I meant what I said. If we can have Transcendental Science without political strings, without interference in our way of life, and without helping to maintain their monopoly, then why not? Give me one good reason!”
“Why ... ah ... I guess it’s just a gut-feeling, Royce,” Carlotta said lamely, unable to explain it even to herself. “I mean, who wants the Pink and Blue War... ?”
“But if Falkenstein accepts our terms—which he won’t anyway—how does that involve us in the Pink and Blue War? If anything, it’ll help end the damned thing. Without the Transcendental Science monopoly, the dynamic for the war no longer exists. Truth be told, that’s what I’d like to see happen. Wouldn’t you?”
“Ah... er, I suppose so,” Carlotta said distantly. “I guess I’m just a little edgy... Something about that Falkenstein bothers me on an irrational level, is all...” “Hmmmm...oyce muttered, and turned his attention back to the set of the sails and the sea before him. As the first stars of night began to dust the darkening sky, the two of them sat apart, brooding on their own private thoughts.
That in itself disturbed Carlotta as she gazed up at the night sky. For truth be told, Carlotta hated the thing that was moving toward them with a passion beyond all rational political logic. It seemed that the shadow of the Arkology Heisenberg had already darkened their own intimate landscape.
4
D R. R OGER F ALKENSTEIN FELT THAT HE STOOD AT THE brink of a mission that might be a major inflection point in the upward curve of human history. Or a break-point in the steady hyperbolic rise should he fail.
Rising through the liftube at the long axis of the Heisenberg from his quarters on 12-deck to the main briefing room on 2-deck, Falkenstein passed through nine typical decks of the Arkology, which he thought of as neither vehicle of transit nor home.
Three of the decks through which he passed were nothing more than human warehouses: tier upon tier of Deep Sleep chambers in which, at any given time, the majority of the Arkology’s inhabitants spent the years between meaningful activities in suspended animation, editing their long lifespans into continuous dramas of peak experiences by removing all
Similar Books
