by Bodicea
A woman seated to Ciel’s left was bending her ear, staring at Murdoch and whispering.
Ciel raised her hand. “If I may interrupt, the Circle wishes to know, how many men are there on your world. What part of the population are they? Are they one in five, as represented by your party?”
How many men? “Half,” Lear answered. “Fifty per cent of our population is male. As I was saying…”
She got no further. The entire assembly was chattering away before Ciel, pounding the scepter could silence it. “Half of your population is male, do we understand that properly?”
“That is correct. Half of our population is male.”
“And on your ship, half your crew are men?” Ciel persisted, trying to temper her voice to credulity.
“Are you saying there are no men on this planet?” American asked. There were legends, or at least stories, of colonies that were entirely female. No one had seriously believed them, for obvious reasons.
“Not so many,” Ciel answered. “Two thousand years ago, a plague came to our world.
Ninety percent of the male population died, and most of the remainder were left sterile. We had always assumed that this same plague had been the cause of the collapse of the Human Galactic Commonwealth. Instead, we see now, it was just our own world.” Flight Captain Jones gestured for the scepter, and Lear handed it to her. “Something like that happened on my world, Sapphire. There was a plague that sterilized twenty per cent of the male population. It was thousands of years ago, just before the Great Silence. We called it the White Plague.”
“We knew it as ‘The Bloodening,’” Ciel responded, darkly. “It struck quickly, the legends say, and burned through our population in less than two years. When it was over, … there were so many dead that the living could not even bury them. Our planet was changed forever.
To this day, we have only five men for every hundred women.”
“Because of the Bloodening, our foremothers had to re-structure our entire society. Every form of work that had once been shared now became for women only. Men were too few, and could not be … ”
A woman at Ciel’s table stood and interrupted. “Men became returned to the role for which the Goddess had designed them, genetic repositories. ”
“Once more and I will take a vote to send you out,” Ciel rejoined like an angry parent rebuking an insolent trial.
American gestured for the scepter, and Jones handed it to her. “Do you mean that men have no status on your world?”
“Not at all,” Ciel answered. “Men are very precious. Our men are very well-treated. They are provided with all manner of food, shelter, entertainment, and health care. In return, they provide women with the means of procreation.”
Lear retook the scepter. “I apologize if our questions give offense. You must understand, in our worlds, because men are half of our population, the sexes share responsibilities. The commander of our ship is a man, as are about half of our officers.” This resulted in some vigorous chattering. Ciel raised the scepter, but one of the other women, a rather elderly and hatchet-faced type demanded incredulously. “Are you telling us that you subordinate yourself to a … a man?”
“Subordinate is a very strong word. He outranks me, and his authority in some areas is greater than mine. Our form of leadership is cooperative. We hear each other’s view and, most often, we try to arrive at a consensus.”
American had to fake a cough to avoid smirking.
Ciel shook her head, as though trying to chase off unwelcome images from her mind. “The notion seems perverse to us. Why would we want to seek the counsel of a man on anything.
Frankly we regard men as, well, ill-suited to the task of governing, of consensus-building. They are too aggressive, too competitive, and too reckless. The woman’s spirit, of compassion, nurturing, and stability, that is what has guided our world to our present state of … serenity.”
“Our world has prospered under a benevolent system for millennia. Most of our women work as agrarians, growing grains and vegetables for food. Others weave cloth, others build.
Others heal and care for families. Our society was made better for the passing of men.”
“No wars?” Lear asked.
“Not as men would have fought. Not for territory, or wealth, or power. There have been conflicts throughout our history, but always in the name of fairness, of sharing resources equally. For many hundreds of years, each province maintained a standing army, the sole purpose of that army was to go into regions that would not share their resources equally with the rest of the world. Two hundred years ago, we recognized that army for the anachronism it was, and we abolished it as well. We have been at peace ever since.”
“And what do your men do?” American asked.
“Our men are kept comfortable and entertained until they are needed.”
“They don’t live among you?”
This set off what could only be described as contentious tittering. Ciel slammed down the scepter again. “They are isolated from other pursuits of society. At first, this was of necessity.
Men were simply too valuable to risk on the dangers and stresses of responsibility, of work.
Now, everyone agrees that the system benefits all, especially the men, who enjoy lives of leisure, comfort, and sexual fulfillment. When one is needed, for breeding purposes or for certain rites of passage, his services are negotiated.”
“We treat our men as a precious resource. Like any resource, we regulate their use responsibly. We try to preserve our resources through simple rules. For example, if a tree takes one hundred years to grow, whatever is made of the wood of that tree must last for two-hundred years. So, it is with men.”
No one in the party grasped the connection, and Murdoch, especially, was afraid to ask. A couple of the women were already giving him furtive, inviting glances. He was beginning to feel like an all-meat lunch buffet in the presence of dogs.
“What about marriage and children,” Jones asked. Lear cringed. She had been praying no one would be so tactless as to ask.
“Our familial arrangements are communal, with four or more women sharing nurturing responsibilities over their collective daughters.”
“Ideally,” interjected another woman.
There was a kind of gasp from many of the others. Lear’s well-honed political instincts smelled a scandal. Lear jumped to the rescue of whoever was being offended. “It appears we have much to learn from each other.”
Ciel looked grave, if slightly rattled. “When we first received your broadcast, we barely considered the possibility that we would be dealing with a male-dominated society. Perhaps because the prospect was so very alarming to us. While I have to apologize if our greeting has been ungracious, you must appreciate our concern that your very presence here may disturb the populace. The Inner Circle’s first duty is always to preserve peace and social order.” Ciel ignored her and continued. “No one on our planet goes hungry, no one on our planet is uneducated, no one is without shelter. No one goes around armed. Every aspect of life is designed to be as safe and comfortable as possible. The Inner Circle is entrusted to protect the peace and order of our society.”
“Which is exactly what I and the Dissent have been arguing,” The other woman, younger, darker, and leaner than Ciel, put in. She had been glaring at the Landing party with hard, dark eyes since they had first landed. “I will be heard.” Ciel sighed. “Not all of the Circle were in favor of extending welcome to you. In accordance with our customs, the opposition will now be permitted to address you. Advocate Solay.”
The other woman, Solay, took possession of the scepter, almost snatching it from Ciel’s hands. She stood and crossed in front of the podium. She had the pace of a determined woman with a cause. She faced the landing party, and gestured toward them with the scepter as she spoke.
“On Bodicéa, we have achieved a peaceful, equitable society. We have cast off the ways of the Patriarchy, and built a harmonious civilization in accordan
ce with the ideals of sharing, nurturing, and pacifism. We do not need or desire to have our society upset by outsiders. Our culture has survived these three millennia and built a world of unsurpassed beauty. Our world is our home, and we have no interest in other worlds. We have chosen a way of life that we love, and we do not want another. You say you came in peace, we bid you leave as you came, and let us have our world to ourselves.”
“We have no intention of disturbing your world, or your way of life,” Lear answred. “We respect the sovereignty of other worlds. Our own two worlds coexist peacefully, and retain distinctive cultures.”
“I would be interested to know how you overcame the will of your men to do so. Men are the impediment to peace and serenity. Men thrive on conflict, on competition, aggression.
They consume beyond their means, and leave the mess for us to clean up. We are reluctant to expose this society, which we have strove so long to build, to the possibility of Patriarchal contamination.”
Murdoch sneezed. He saw most of the women recoil, as though his masculinity was an infectious disease they needed to protect themselves from.
The woman Solay continued. “How can we protect our world from your influence, and how can you presume that we would agree to such an arrangement? You can not appreciate the love we have for our planet, and for one another. You understand nothing of our world.”
“We wish to understand,” said Lear.
“And we wish to understand you,” Solay continued, her tone growing sharper. “How many people did you bring with you? How many people are on board your mother ship?”
“Nearly seven thousand.” The hall erupted in murmuring, some of it excited, most of it worried.
“What do you want from us?”
“We want to know your world. We want to know your history. We want to know everything about you. We did not come to conquer you, only to learn about you, and offer to share whatever we had with you.”
“How many ships like yours are coming to our world?”
“Just ours. With your permission, more ships will follow, but they will be smaller.”
“Once you learn about our world, why should you send more ships, if you only wish to learn?”
“We are exploring the galaxy, rebuilding… re-connecting the lost colonies of the ancient Commonwealth. We invite you to join with us. There are thousands of lost worlds … ”
“Or perhaps, you wish to force us into some sort of alliance. What kind of armaments does your ship carry?”
“Defensive weapons only,” Lear insisted. “We are not an aggressive culture.”
“Have these weapons ever been fired in anger?”
“They have not been fired in anger. They have only been used defensively.”
“Against whom?”
“We were under attack by a hostile entity. Our ship was threatened with destruction. We acted in self-defense and no one was killed by our weapons.” She delivered the next questions in deep, almost funereal tones “Could your ship destroy this world with its armaments?”
“We would never attack a peaceful world.”
“That does not answer my question. Does your ship have the capacity to lay waste to this world, to destroy it utterly?”
“Our weapons are not designed to be used that way.”
“I ask you a third and final time, could your weapons destroy all life on our planet.” Lear answered reluctantly, in the back of her mind cursing the Sapphireans and their damnable insistence on Nemesis warheads. “Aye,” she said softly.
“Could you repeat that?” Solay said, suppressing a triumphant grin.
“I mean, I answer in the affirmative. It would be possible to destroy this planet with certain of our weapons.” As if on cue, the Inner Circle began arguing harshly. Solay, looking strangely satisfied, made no effort to stop them.
“So, you could threaten us with annihilation if we refused to give into your demands.”
“We would never use those weapons in that way,” Lear insisted, genuinely shocked at the implication.
“Then why carry such devastating armaments, if you never intend to use them? If you did not come in conquest, why is your vessel so heavily armed?”
“Some of our people believe that the reason the Commonwealth collapsed is because of a powerful alien species that conquered humanity. We wanted to be assured of self-defense in the event we encountered hostile alien.”
“So, you went out into space expecting to find conflict. We have saying on our world, ‘you will always find whatever you look for if you search long enough.’” Lear decided it was a good time to say nothing, and let Solay finish.
“Even if all your assertions of trust and peaceful intentions are true, what becomes of us if we welcome you, and give you license to walk through our cities, our orchards, our fields?” She turned back, addressing the Dissent and the Undecided in the council. “If we let your men come into our homes.”
She let the last thought sink in before continuing. “If we do align ourselves with a larger culture, of such impressive accomplishments, however benign they are, what do we open our world up to? Will more ships come? Will the inhabitants or other worlds, covetous of our peaceful and prosperous way of life come flooding in, bringing with them diseases, perhaps another Bloodening? Will they bring dangerous influences to disrupt the peace and take away the security that every Bodicéan woman enjoys? What if these peaceful emissaries encounter a hostile planet? Will we be drawn into conflicts that destroy life and nature, but have nothing to do with us? Will our voices even be heard if we are few among many?” She stepped away from the podium. She was working her people now. “We see how powerful they are. They may be even more powerful than they realize, like a child playing in a garden, tramping on the flowers and crushing insects beneath her feet. She may have no malice in her heart, but she can not help what she does.”
“Consider carefully how you decide to receive them. What you decide here will decide the course of our world for the next three thousand years.” She dropped the scepter on the floor next to Ciel, forcing Ciel to bend over and pick it up.
Ciel slumped, and hid her face behind her hand. “Knowledge, it is the real burden of being an advocate. We now know of you, and unlike our citizens, we can not afford the luxury of ignorance. You are here, now how shall we deal with you?” A woman in the corner gestured for the scepter. “First Advocate, until the Circle reaches consensus, we would suggest that the ‘Tenets of Hospitality’ be invoked, and the visitors be treated as guests of the Circle.”
Solay took the scepter back. “The dissent counter-proposes that the ‘Dictates of Public Protection’ be invoked, and that the visitors be detained at Fond Glacine until their intentions are better known.”
“Lady De La Tesse, as Reconciliator of the Inner Circle, do you have a compromise.” De La Tesse, an especially corpulent woman, rose and took the scepter. “The compromise should be to invoke both the Tenets of Hospitality and the Dictates of Public Protection. We will hold the off-world delegation here, at Fond Glacine. They are to be treated with the utmost courtesy, but they are not to be allowed to leave until the Inner Circle has come to a consensus.”
Ciel raised the scepter. “The compromise is out before the Circle. You may cast your votes.”
The women removed small paper cards from their seats and passed them to a short, bespectacled woman on Ciel’s flank who duly tallied them up.
“The Compromise is passed on a vote of 65 points to 55,” she reported. Lear figured, rather than vote in the affirmative or negative, the women here were each given ten points, and could divide them according to their feelings on the topic at hand. Interesting.
“Let the Compromise be written on this date,” Ciel announced. “The off-world delegation may remain, and we shall discuss what to do with them.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Outer Moon of 10 655 Vulpeculus V
Bathed in pale orange light, two Aves dropped from a starlit sky to alight atop circ
ular landing pads, squarely positioned over the cross-shaped markers, kicking up small clouds of dust as they settled down. Airlocks cycled, and the side hatches slid open. Ten figures, five from each ship, emerged, wrapped in thick yellow suits, faces hidden behind dark eye-masks colored blood-red by the curious light. The visitors surveyed an almost perfectly flat and alien landscape that surrounded the abandoned lunar base.
The main building was a large geodesic dome constructed of some type of rocky composite with a large rectangular block to one side. This structure was surrounded by eight landing pads connected to it with tunnels that slightly protruded from the ground.
Commander Keeler walked ahead of his team, looking up in wonder at the ancient structure. It appeared undamaged. He hoped the inside was similarly intact. If it followed the design of the Old Hyperion Base, Keeler thought, the primary operational and inhabitation structures would be contained underneath the dome. The underground tunnels would contain a kind of tram system connecting to a large hangar area underneath the main structure.
The landing team passed lightly over the landscape, the half-gravity of the moon amounted to little more than a nuisance. A technical specialist pointed to an aperture protruding from the side of the dome. Following his lead, the party soon came to the airlock at the side of the structure. Using a simple crowbar, they pried both sets of the airlock hatches open, and entered into a dark, cavernous space. They switched on their suit-lights and cast beams into the darkness. Some of the technicians took lightballs from their landing packs and tossed them into the air. They lit up the scene like miniature suns. Beneath the dome was a campus of structures, squared-off, pre-fabricated blocks arranged into functional areas, reaching almost to the top of the dome in all directions. Wrapping around each was ductwork, containing the long dormant atmosphere and heating conduits.
It was not identical to the Old Hyperion moonbase, but it followed similar functional and aesthetic lines, like two franchises of a fast food chain in distant towns. The resemblance was enough to strike an eerie chord in Keeler’s heart, reminding him that humans had once had the means and the will to pursue a thousand Odyssey Projects from a hundred different worlds. The men and women who had built this moonbase might have been the same that built the station on his own planet’s largest moon.