The Ethics of Silence

by C. J. Nash

  “Then that is for the legal system to decide. Vigilantes can’t be allowed to decide what is just and what is not.”

  “But your legal system is the legal system of Earth and more specifically the NAU. How can people who have never lived among the colonists decide what laws are right for us?”

  “I have lived here for over two years and I know what hardships you endure. But I still cannot accept your argument that the laws of the NAU shouldn’t apply, especially in a case of murder. Ms. Edwards, I expect you to fully cooperate with Mr. Turner in this investigation and I expect you to urge the other colonists to do likewise. Is that understood?”

  “Understood. Will that be all, Governor?”

  “Yes, unless Mr. Turner has any more questions.”

  “No, nothing else. I guess I’m ready to begin.”

  “But first,” said Tellus, “Mr. Turner and I will eat lunch.”

  Even though she had obviously been excluded from the lunch invitation, Janet remained at Mason’s side.

  Mason found the aroma inside the cafeteria almost intoxicating. Tellus approached the serving line. “I’m having steak. How about you, Mr. Turner?”

  “I’m not sure that I can eat very much.”

  Tellus slapped Mason on the back. “Still not used to real food, I imagine. Try the small sirloin and half of a baked potato.”

  “I’m having steak, too,” Janet stated.

  Tellus frowned. “I didn’t actually invite you.”

  “And yet here I am,” Janet said, with a subtle smirk. “And don’t forget a large gratuity. We really need to impress our visitor from Earth.”

  The frown deepened, but Tellus did pay for all three meals and included a twenty-five percent gratuity.

  When Mason had swallowed his first bite he exclaimed, “This steak is delicious!”

  Tellus replied, “Actually, it’s chicken but the texture and flavor are very close to the real thing. Someday we actually will have the real thing. I guess after eight months of eating those nutrient bars this must taste pretty good. Try the potato. It’s real.”

  Mason did try the potato. “That may actually be the best baked potato I have ever tasted.”

  Janet finished her last bite of a very large steak. “I’m going for dessert. You want anything, Mason?”

  “No thanks, I’m full.”

  “Okay, but don’t you and Mr. Tellus discuss anything while I’m gone.”

  When Janet returned, she was holding a gigantic slice of cake. With defiance in her voice she said, “I put this on your account, Mr. Tellus. I hope you don’t mind. Oh, and I included a thirty-five percent gratuity.” When Tellus said nothing, she continued, “I know you are not here to discuss the murder investigation with Mr. Turner. You might as well go ahead and tell him what you want right now. I’m not going away.”

  “I would really prefer to speak to Mr. Turner privately.”

  “I can tell when I’m not wanted—but I’m not going away,” Janet countered.

  Mason shrugged and Tellus continued, “Very well, Miss Edwards, stay. Mr. Turner…”

  “Yes.”

  “I represent a small but growing number of colonists that would like to explore the possibility of moving the colony downward to a more habitable environment.”

  “I’ve heard a little about it. It’s called the Deep Mars Project, isn’t it?”

  Janet mumbled.

  “Excuse me,” queried Tellus.

  “I said, Morlocks.”

  Tellus glared at Janet. “There are certain factions that call us Morlocks though that is not a name that we prefer. We would rather just be considered colonists who wish to explore the very likely possibility that we can improve the sustainability of the colony by relocating to a more habitable environment.”

  “What do you want from me?” asked Mason.

  “Unfortunately, the present governor will not allow any funds or manpower to be used to support the Deep Mars Project and…”

  Janet interrupted, “The governor knows that the colony’s very existence is hanging by a very tenuous thread. Once the colony is better able to sustain itself, then there will be resources to explore other avenues, including the Morlock Project.”

  Tellus held his anger in check. “Miss Edwards, only a small investment is needed to explore the Deep Mars Project, and it promises to greatly improve the lives of the colonists. Plus, it will strengthen that tenuous thread that you speak of.”

  “If your theories are correct.”

  “There is no way that anyone can doubt that as we burrow into the depths of Mars that atmospheric pressure increases. We can easily reach a depth where it is no longer necessary to pressurize our living space.”

  “But that point is thirty to thirty-five miles below the surface. The resources necessary just to dig a borehole that deep could cause the colony to collapse.”

  “The depth for new living quarters might be as little as twenty-five miles—or even twenty, but an exploratory borehole needn’t go anywhere near that depth.”

  “Twenty miles! You make it sound like twenty miles is nothing!”

  “It barely scratches the surface of Mars.”

  “It is one percent of the distance to the core. How do you even think it would be possible for the caverns to support the thirty miles of rock pressing down on them?”

  “I am sure that you already know, but for Mr. Turner’s benefit, I will answer your question. Gravity on Mars is only a little more than one-third of that of Earth, so the force pressing down from above would be about the same as only seven miles below the surface on Earth. And since Mars is geologically inactive as compared to the Earth, we wouldn’t need to worry about earthquakes—or marsquakes—that might collapse our structures.”

  “There are marsquakes?” asked Mason.

  “Yes, but very minor. And another advantage of moving toward the interior of the planet is that the temperature would be more easily controlled.”

  “That’s insane. You would have us burned to a crisp,” Janet exclaimed.

  “Our calculations show that the temperature at that depth will be quite comfortable.”

  “That’s because you start with the answer you want and invent the math to support it.”

  “I can show you the math.”

  “I’ve seen the math and it is irreverent. Mason, do you know how much energy we use to heat the colony?”

  Mason shook his head. “I have no idea.”

  “We actually have cooling fins on the surface to carry away excess heat. The light inside the caverns is not artificial. We have gigantic solar collectors that concentrate sunlight into light pipes. We are twice as far from the sun as Earth, so we use four times the surface area to collect sunlight. Because Mars is big, we’ve got lots of surface. Since we are piping in sunlight and don’t have a sky to radiate it back to, we have to actively cool the colony. That doesn’t include the heat from our industries and our own body heat—plus the chickens. We have lots of chickens. But I suppose that if you went down forty miles, you wouldn’t bother with the light pipes and you might need the extra heat.”

  “It is not forty miles!” Tellus could no longer contain his anger.

  Mason asked, “Mr. Tellus, what do you expect of me? I don’t have any control over the governor.”

  “I am only asking for you to talk with the appropriate people when you return to Earth, and explain our situation. I’m only asking that the NAU provide us with enough funds and manpower to prove that the Deep Mars Project is a worthwhile endeavor. Once we have proven the concept and mobilize the colony downward, then the colony will be completely self-supporting and can even begin to generate funds to repay the NAU for colonizing Mars.”

  Mason glanced at Janet. “That seems fair, doesn’t it?”

  “Only if one hundred percent of the funds and manpower are supplied by the NAU. If they decide that we must use our already overextended resources to chase this insane dream, there will be a revolt. And I mean an actua
l revolt with dead Morlocks!”

  Tellus slid his chair backwards. “Are you threatening me, Miss Edwards?”

  “No. I just want you to understand that most colonists will not stand for anything that threatens the existence of the colony. If you can get the NAU to dig your hole, that will be okay. Or wait until the colony is stable and sound. Then you can dig your own damned hole clear to the other side of Mars for all I care! But if you do anything that will crush the colony, there will be bloodshed.”

  “Mr. Turner,” said Tellus, “maybe we have found your murderer.”

  “Go to hell,” spat Janet.

  Tellus stood. “Can I depend on you to explain the goals of the Deep Mars Project to the proper authorities on Earth?”

  “I will tell them what you wish to accomplish.” Mason saw the daggers in Janet’s eyes. “But I will also stress that any support for your goal must be entirely funded by the NAU since the colony cannot afford to divert those resources toward an unproven theory.”

  Tellus threw his napkin on the table. “I suppose a little support is better than none!” He turned on his heel and strode toward the door.

  Mason called after Tellus, “What about the murder investigation?”

  Tellus spun around and spat, “I don’t give a damn about the murder investigation. There is no way in hell that you’re going to find out who killed that man. No evidence was found that would point to the murderer. After ten months, any evidence that has not already been discovered has certainly been lost or destroyed. The murder conveniently occurred on The Day of Secrets so, if there were any witnesses, they are not going to talk.”

  Janet stood. “I’m going to get another piece of cake and charge it to Tellus. You want anything?”

  “Sure. Get me a small slice of that cake.”

  Chapter 4

  A VISIT TO THE FARM

  Mason scratched his head. “I suppose I need to start my investigation. I should probably view the crime scene first.”

  “You will do no such thing. You haven’t really settled in. You can’t actually do anything until you have a notepad, can you?”

  “I don’t need a notepad just to look around.”

  “It is going to be over four hundred days before the next ship leaves for Earth. If you solve this case in the first week you’re going to get awfully bored. Don’t rush it. Lesson number one.”

  “But if I am to believe you and Mr. Tellus, four hundred days aren’t going to be nearly enough time to solve the case.”

  “So, why be in a hurry to solve an unsolvable case? I’ll try to put a rush on your notepad. Have it for you in a couple of weeks.”

  “That’s how long you said before.”

  “Yeah, but before, I was actually planning on about four to six weeks because of lesson two.”

  “Lesson two—you don’t like me.”

  “Let’s just say that I don’t dislike you as much as I did.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because Tellus doesn’t like you and I don’t like Tellus.”

  “Enemy of your enemy?”

  “Something like that. First, I need to contact the port and have your clothes delivered to your apartment. I can get them there tonight or tomorrow morning at the latest.” She worked the screen of her notepad. “Okay, that’s taken care of. Twenty-five pounds can’t be a lot of clothes. I’ll take you shopping and set up your credit for a clothing allowance.”

  “I’ve actually got enough clothes to work in for a while. Well I will when they arrive at my apartment.”

  “Those are work clothes. You need something to wear to social events.”

  “How can I go to social events? I thought nobody liked me.”

  “You need something to wear when you visit the governor.”

  “We’ve been to see the governor.”

  “At his office. I’ll arrange a little informal event at his home. But first, we’ll have to get you some appropriate clothes.”

  ****

  The exterior of the clothing store looked no different from so many other square foam structures. Once inside, Mason asked, “How can you tell one building from another?”

  “I was here when all these buildings were put in place,” Janet replied. “But when you get your notepad, you’ll have a complete, searchable map of the colony.”

  The clothing store actually had very little clothing available. The walls were covered with pictures of various styles ranging from work coveralls to fancy formal attire. “Most items are made to order,” Janet pointed out. “We don’t have the resources to keep hundreds of styles in every size. First they will need to get your measurements.”

  Along one wall was an outline of a pair of shoes. Janet instructed, “Do what I’m doing.” She removed her shoes and stepped on the footprints. She held her arms straight out parallel with the floor. A beep sounded. “Now it’s your turn.”

  Mason stood on the prints. When the beep sounded he asked, “What was that for?”

  “We were photographed and laser measured.”

  “I didn’t see a laser.”

  “Infrared. More efficient than visible lasers.”

  “Okay. Now what?”

  “Now I select your clothes. You do trust me, don’t you?”

  “Should I trust you? I know you don’t like me.”

  “I have to be seen in public with you. I promise that I’m not going to let you embarrass me.”

  “In that case, I trust you completely.”

  Janet touched a terminal and a life-size image of Mason appeared on the wall. With each subsequent touch, the image was clothed with various shirts and jackets. When Janet had decided on a shirt and jacket, she completed the ensemble with pants and a pair of shoes. “The shoes may not be ready by the time we visit the governor. If they’re not, you can wear those.” Janet pointed to Mason’s footwear. “Do you want a tie?”

  Mason shrugged. “Whatever you think.”

  Janet tried various ties and then deleted the last one. “Forget the tie. It’s not going to be a formal gathering.” She touched the screen again. “Should be ready tomorrow morning.”

  “Okay. How do I pay for the clothes?”

  “You’re not finished yet.” Janet touched the terminal again. Mason’s image was joined by an image of Janet. “How do you think it would look for you to be dressed like that and for me to accompany you to the governor’s home in my work clothes? I need to select an outfit that compliments your attire, don’t I?”

  Mason shrugged. At the end of an hour, Janet had selected three evening gowns for herself. All three outfits were dazzling. Mason had to admit that the image of Janet looked stunning beside his own image.

  Janet went back and stood on the footprints. “Janet Edwards authorizing Mason Turner for clothing purchases to be charged to the office of the governor. All purchases for outer garments to be approved by me. Expires in one year.” She stepped off the footprints and motioned for Mason to step forward. “Just state your name.”

  “Mason Turner.” Mason stepped away from the prints. “Why do you have to approve my clothes?”

  “Because I have very good fashion sense and I don’t know whether you do or not. Oh, and by the way, thank you for buying me those gorgeous gowns.”

  “Uh…you’re welcome.”

  “Look…I’m sorry that I’ve been giving you such a hard time. I resented the fact that the governor insisted that the NAU send us an investigator to meddle in affairs that have nothing to do with Earth. And I really resented being assigned to babysit the investigator. But you’re different from other Earth people I’ve had to deal with.”

  “Different? How?”

  “Usually, just as soon as they exit the ship, they start demanding that we accommodate their wants. They act as if they are so much better than we are. They let us know that we are so privileged that they are here to help us. They are so arrogant and so ignorant. They think we should drop everything and attend to their every whim. But you’re different.
"

  "Well, I'm glad that I'm not what you expected."

  "How long have you been a murder investigator?"

  "Normally, I’m not a murder investigator. This is actually only the third murder I've ever been assigned to. I generally specialize in fraud, primarily insurance fraud."

  "So why did you end up being sent to the colony?"

  "I pissed off a few of my superiors. Ordinarily, it probably wouldn't have mattered. But the request from your governor came at a time when they were still very pissed. And here I am."

  "And you normally investigate fraud?"

  "Normally."

  "And will you be reporting any fraud while you are here?"

  "I'm just here for the murder. Why? Is there any fraud that I should investigate?"

  "No fraud here."

  "If you're worried that I might report you for charges you're making to the NAU, forget about it. Number one, the NAU has lots of money to waste. They sent me here, didn't they? And number two, I think all your charges are necessary expenses pertaining to this investigation."

  "Good, because I really do like those gowns you bought me."

  Mason grinned. "Would you like to get something to eat? I'm buying."

  ****

  Mason's luggage arrived that evening. Compared to the images of the clothing he had just purchased, his 11.3 kilos—No, he decided, it was 25 pounds—looked positively shabby. But at least he wasn't sitting around the apartment naked while the LaundryMate processed his clothes.

  ****

  Janet arrived at Mason’s apartment shortly before noon the next morning. “Today we relax,” she said. “It’s my day off, but I’m going to spend it with you anyway.”

  “Thank you, I think. So, you get the weekends off?”

  “I wish! I only get Sundays.”

  Mason blinked and stared at nothing in particular while he mentally counted. “It’s Sunday? I’ve lost a day somewhere.”

  “No. You’re still thinking on Earth time. The days are longer here so every 30 something days, we lose a day. It would be stupid to try and synchronize our calendars with Earth calendars.”