A Matter for Men

TWENTY-ONE

DR. ZYMPH'S remarks had not gone over well. You could feel the resentment. The audience boiled out of the auditorium like a nest of hornets. Their voices rising shrilly, they clustered into angry knots. Small arguments were breaking out all over, some erupting into shouting matches.

"-outrageous!" fumed one little man, shoving rudely past me. He was dark-skinned, he wore an expensive suit and he had a thick Middle-East accent. "Lies and propaganda! Next we're going to be told that the only answer is a military one! But my government isn't going to buy their horror stories! They're using this as an excuse for their own rearmament-" The rest was lost in the hubbub.

"I'm telling you she did not!" A tall, bald man with glasses was surrounded by a score of other scientists. "If anything, this was the toned-down version! If there's been any misstatement in the facts, it's been on the side of caution!"

The roar and buzz of a thousand separate voices swirled in the air above the lobby. A large crowd surrounded a huge fat man and a small loud one who were alternately booming and sniping at one another-a duel between a foghorn and a magpie. I couldn't get close enough to hear what they were saying, and the spirited reactions of their listeners were drowning out the meaning, leaving only the shredded sounds of their voices.

Behind me, someone else was preaching; I turned to see a bulldozer-shaped woman backing a nervous-looking man up against a corner. "-and we have the papers to prove it! Have you read them yet? No? I'll send you copies. Marsha got a letter from the man himself, saying how impressed he was by her volume-"

I faded sideways, almost into the center of another conversation, a very quiet one. The speaker was a well-mannered black man, very soft-spoken. His listeners were a group of reporter types, each one holding his or her recorder out like a shield. ". . . The people have had enough bad news. They want to hear something good for a change. Of course, Dr. Zymph's remarks are not going to be popular-I expect to see a lot of resistance. But now let me add this. If the threat is real, you can be sure that the American people will shoulder their fair share of the responsibility. We'll handle it."

I'd heard enough. I headed out toward the lounge area. I was confused at the reaction of the delegates-didn't they realize?-and angry at them as well. I stood in the middle of them and fumed. I would have liked to have stuffed a few of them into the nearest Chtorran in full view of their colleagues. That would change some minds, all right!

I was still hesitating, standing in the middle of the crowd and wondering what to do next, when I heard my name called. A hand was waving at me from halfway across the lobby. Ted's. I began working my way over to him. He was standing with a short, barrel-shaped man who was wearing a dark suit and a frown; he looked constipated, perpetually glaring out at the world through thick-lensed horn-rimmed glasses. "This is Martin Miller," Ted said, "managing director of the Erewhon Project."

"Oh," I said. I looked around. "Um, what happened to Dinnie?"

Ted shrugged. "I dunno. We got separated. No problem."

"I thought you two were, ah . . ."

"Huh? You've gotta be kidding!"

"Then what was that business about eleven orgasms?"

Ted put his hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eye. "Jim, trust me. Someday, you'll know this for yourself-when you finally manage to lose that legendary virginity of yours -but until then, take my word for it: it is impossible even for a normal healthy male in the peak of physical condition to come eleven times in one night." And then he added, "I know-I've tried. But the most I've ever managed was seven. And it wasn't with Dinnie."

"She seemed to think so."

"Jim, I am telling you the truth. I only came once. And I had to think of raw liver to do even that. Let her believe what she wants."

"Then why the hell did you-"

"Shh! Keep your voice down! I'm gonna teach you one of the secrets of success. If you need to get to know a great number of people in a hurry-especially important people-find yourself the most ambitious social climber you can, and flatter her. Or him. You can get into a lot of otherwise closed doors that way. Look, you don't mind, do you?" He had slipped one arm around my shoulder and turned me sideways away from Miller. "This could be very big. For both of us. He's not even twenty-five yet and he's making multimillion-casey decisions. I'll talk to you later, all right?"

"Huh-? But you called me!" But Ted had already turned back to his conversation. Something about flash-doming urban tracts for future redevelopment. Miller was explaining how preservation grants would allow them to claim large areas of already developed but abandoned property, and Ted was babbling about getting the Reclamation Office to foot most of the bill. I didn't think either one was hearing a word the other was saying.

"Listen, you've got to stop seeing it as a set of political moves," the woman behind me was saying. She was speaking to a small cluster of Fourth-World delegates. She looked deceptively friendly. Her face was framed with dark curls and her mouth looked like a kiss looking for a place to happen. Her nametag said s. DORR. "I understand your concerns, I really do. Your governments are justifiably afraid that the United States is using this ecological infestation as an excuse for rebuilding its military strength. And certainly, that would be a legitimate concern under any ordinary circumstances. But these are not ordinary circumstances. You heard Dr. Zymph's presentation." Her badge identified her as a deputy ambassador to the United Nations. She spoke calmly and with authority. "Perhaps you've seen the reports, perhaps not, but the United States is the only nation left on this planet that can still muster the human resources necessary to meet this challenge. If you don't allow the passage of the Allowance Act, you're hurting yourself as much as us. These are the hard, cold facts-Europe is in ruins, barely surviving; Africa is at war with itself; most of South America is out of communication-all we know about are a few major cities; Russia's in turmoil; and we have no idea how bad the situation is in China. At least the United States still has a workable military organization. That's because this country did not mobilize its military for civilian population control during the plagues. We were forbidden to mobilize, so we kept our units isolated and as a result most of them survived. We now represent a reservoir of ability that the international community of nations desperately needs to draw upon-must draw upon-despite the fact that it would require the one thing that a majority of nations in the U.N. are most opposed to: an extraordinary American military reconstruction! But that's what's needed if we are to mount realistic opposition to this invasion." She held up a hand to forestall an interruption. "Please-I need to make the point understood. What we intend is not a military campaign in the traditional sense of armament and mobilization-there simply isn't the manpower for that-but rather a worldwide call to purpose with the same sense of discipline and urgency that are the hallmarks of a successful military operation. We would use the existing structure of the United States Civilian Operations Corps as a foundation on which to build our proposed worldwide ecological defense-because it's there and it's ready to go to work, and we don't have the time to spare making everything politically satisfactory for all concerned parties.

"We know that several members of your delegation were upset by Dr. Zymph's remarks, but my government is prepared to stand behind them. We are also prepared to share our knowledge freely. Your scientists are welcome to verify our facts; we're sure that they'll come to the same conclusions."

Her audience listened politely and patiently, but when she finished, the leader of the group spoke up. His English was thickly accented, but his words were blunt. "And if we don't do as you wish-what then? You go ahead and do it anyway, right? Who is to stop you now? Who has the power to stop anybody anymore? So what you're asking is not permission, not even cooperationbut approval. I cannot see my government granting that, Ms. Ambassador. I cannot see any government going out on that limb."

The woman flushed. Was it anger or embarrassment? Her tone of voice was too deliberately calm. "Dr. T!Kai, you disappoint me. If the United States were able to do this alone, we would already be in the process of doing it-that is how serious we consider this situation. But we are not able to do this alone; that is the purpose of this special conference, to demonstrate the scale of the problem and to call for worldwide cooperation-"

He interrupted her. "I find a flaw in that reasoning, Comrade Deputy Ambassador. First you tell us that we are not capable, that only the United States is capable. Now you tell us that you cannot do this without us. Which is it, please? You cannot have it both ways?"

This time, it was obvious. She was angry. "Dr. T!Kai, you are supposed to be a man of science, a visionary among your own people. You have even been called the mastermind of the African social revolution. We have been putting facts before you for three days now. We have many more facts to put before you. Please listen to them. Realize what they mean. If you have any questions at all, the entire staff of the National Science Center is at your disposal. You've seen the live specimens-if you need to see them again, it can be arranged. But please hear what we are trying to tell you!"

He looked at her calmly and said, "I am hearing. I am hearing all too well." He shook his head. "What I hear are excuses and justifications. I do not want to hear any more. Excuse me, please." He gestured to his retinue, and the group of them turned away and moved off down the hall.

Deputy Ambassador Dorr looked after them, tears welling up in her eyes. She mouthed a phrase that looked like Damn fools! Then she caught me looking at her and she smiled with embarrassment. She said, "You weren't supposed to hear that."

I said, "I've seen the Chtorrans. You're right."

"Yes," she said. She didn't look happy about it. "But this isn't about being right."