The Moon and the Other

by John Kessel

  Mira couldn’t tell whether the high she felt was the tea or something else. “There’s one thing,” she said. “Carey hasn’t seen it yet. He doesn’t know that I’ve used footage of him and Val. He may not like that.”

  Hypatia drew her legs onto the sofa so she faced Mira. “Will he make you change it?”

  “I couldn’t say.”

  “It’s great work, but we’ll do it however you want.”

  What did Mira want? Well, she didn’t want to have to cut Val and Carey out of the video—it would lose half its force. Given the reticence he’d shown lately, it was quite possible he would insist. It was frustrating. Carey stood to benefit from the Reform movement as much as anyone, yet he put this narrow vision of his interests first.

  Hypatia’s question was a test. Did Mira have the commitment to make a tough decision? Would she let the fact that she was sleeping with Carey, that they had both been sleeping with him, affect her judgment? She wanted to act the way Hypatia did. Who they were sleeping with was not central. They had things to accomplish. The future of the Society depended on it, and in the end Carey would recognize that.

  “No, I don’t think we should tell him,” she said.

  “Let me take it from here, then.” Hypatia smiled. “More tea?”

  Hypatia enlisted a select cadre of Discussion Group members to get the graffito posted in three times the number of places that Mira had been able to reach. Hypatia clearly enjoyed letting them wonder where and how she’d gotten the video.

  “This is going to raise more suspicions about you,” said Juliette. “Half the colony already thinks you are Looker.”

  “Epater les Matrones may be my hobby, Juliette, but you know I’m not Looker.”

  “If it gets out that we’re helping Looker, that won’t matter. A lot of the public consider Looker a criminal. We’re trying to persuade people.”

  “We’re trying to win an election. The ones who object to this video can’t be persuaded; they have to be replaced.”

  So now it was out there, suddenly appearing in forty places around the colony, and Carey was furious. Mira had never seen him this angry—it was not his nature to take offense when he could as easily laugh something off. She tried to convince him he was too well known to keep the struggle between him and Roz private. “Please calm down,” she told him. “The publicity will be a benefit, if Roz chooses to contest the issue.”

  “If she chooses to contest?” Carey said. “The only reason she hasn’t asserted her maternal rights is that she doesn’t want to take Val back against his will. Everybody in the Green family wants her to. Now everybody in the colony will.”

  “Don’t be so sure of that,” Mira said. “There are a lot of people, men and women, on your side of this.”

  “And how many of those men are Spartans? I don’t want anything to do with them, and I don’t want Val to have anything to do with them. You can bet Roz will be aware of that possibility.”

  He hung up.

  The colony forum reappeared on her screen. The first comment up was someone reacting to her new video.

  Behind her Mira heard the normal sound of the workplace. So far she’d managed to keep her extracurricular life from affecting her work at Materials, but Mira had already felt the eyes of her co-workers on her and Roz, heard the whispers in the lunchroom. Mira spending her break at her station checking out debate forums was not doing much to keep her new status as a confidant of Hypatia Camillesdaughter a secret. She wondered if Tanya at the next station had heard Mira’s half of the conversation.

  Before she could get very far back into her work, a summons appeared on Mira’s screen.

  PRIORITY: All lab personnel are requested to meet in the conference room at 1400.

  No agenda was attached. There had been nothing on the lab calendar about a meeting.

  Tanya called over to her. “Did you get this meeting summons?”

  “Yes,” Mira said.

  Parvati came by and leaned on her desk. “What is this about?”

  “I have no idea.” Given the drama she’d already gone through today, Mira did not fancy seeing Roz at the meeting. She kept her head down and worked until 1350, then grabbed her notebook and headed with the others to the conference room.

  The lab’s three principal investigators sat evenly spaced around the long table, and the grad students, interns, and support staff found places between them or perched on benches and stools, chatting. Roz sat beside Eva, her eyes on Mira. Mira raised her eyebrows at her. Roz broke eye contact.

  Eva tapped a knuckle on the table for attention.

  “Thank you all for coming. Let me get right to the reason for this meeting: I’m going to ask that you suspend your regular work to take on a task that we need completed as quickly as possible. There’s been a policy change by the Board of Matrons. Roz and Daniel will assign each of you a portion of the research database. In most cases it will be related to your area of specialization. We need you to scrub from the public record all of the research that has come out of any Society of Cousins scientific laboratory in the last twenty-five years.”

  Mira looked around. The room was full of puzzled faces.

  Eva continued. “This includes abstracts, scientific papers, drafts of those papers, correspondence, raw data, budgets related to any research, records of personnel attached to any projects, purchase orders, manifests, news reports, videos, and at least a half dozen other sorts of data.

  “We also need to delete any papers by non-Cousins investigators to which we have had reference.

  “We will not confine ourselves to physics, chemistry, or materials research, but also delete all work in biotech, environmental science, genobotany, energy research, engineering—it all has to go.

  “In addition, we ask you to go onto non-Society data sites and locate copies of Cousins research. You will pass along any links you find to a team that has been set up at Information Resources, and they will take over from there.

  “We are going to store all of this work, of course. We will transfer copies to an independent server with no connection to the SSS&E DataNet or any other solar system information network. Our job, simply put, is to embargo all scientific research that has been done in the SoC over the last twenty-five years.

  “I am sure you must have questions. Now is a good time to ask them, and I’ll do my best to answer.”

  The room was silent. Then Alex Sofiasdaughter said, “Why?”

  “This is about the election,” Tanya said. “The Board’s afraid the Reform Party is going to take over and promote a policy of complete openness. It’s a pre-emptive move.”

  Eva calmly said, “The Board has decided that scientific engagement with the outside world has not served the Society well. The patriarchal colonies persist in characterizing our work as a threat. We’ve tried transparency, and it has not muted their paranoia. Instead, they seek in our publications the slenderest evidence that we present some danger, deliberately misinterpreting our work, distorting our results. They look for things they can use to justify sanctions, or worse. The OLS Science Committee queries our research, we answer, they go back and concoct some new imaginary threat, then query again. The cycle repeats itself.

  “The Board wants to cut off such speculations once and for all. Isolation worked well for sixty years.”

  Parvati said, “This is insane. Closing off access will only increase their suspicions. They’ll take it as proof that we have something to hide.”

  “That’s not the view of the Board of Matrons,” Eva replied.

  “Do we have something to hide?” Mira asked.

  “We have no weapons,” Eva said. “We don’t do weapons research.”

  One of the postdocs, Patrick Caitlinsson, noted for his obsession with his reputation, jumped into the silence. “We’re scientists. The free flow of information is essential to our work. If we can’t publish we might as well give up.”

  “I don’t think you really believe that,” said Eva. “The B
oard has no intention of discontinuing research. They just don’t want us to publish.”

  “But to be isolated from the scientific community will hinder our work,” Parvati said.

  Patrick added, “And anything we do discover, we won’t be able to claim priority.”

  “Can we still access the work of non-Cousins scientists?” Peter asked.

  “Yes, of course,” Eva said.

  “But this will have a chilling effect,” said Tanya. “Outsiders will wonder what’s going on. They won’t be as forthcoming as in the past.”

  “This is going to draw much more attention than if we just proceeded as we have been,” said Parvati.

  “All I can tell you,” Eva said, “is that the Board has considered that and has made this decision. Transparency has not stilled patriarchal suspicions. The Board believes that we should return to the minimal contact policies of earlier years.”

  “Minimal contact!” Patrick shook his head. “This is a complete isolation!”

  And so the discussion went, for an hour or more. Mira kept her mouth shut. They were sent away, grumbling.

  Daniel Karensson came by Mira’s station with a list of twenty-year-old work she should begin on. She spent the next two hours dredging up lab reports, equipment invoices, personnel budgets, and attendance records regarding research that was done when she was five years old. It was a tedious chore. From her desk Mira retrieved the ring she had found months ago and played with it as she worked. She spun it until it glided across the surface, a spherical metallic blur, taking a minute or more before it lost enough angular momentum to begin to wobble and fall. The reasons Eva had given did not make sense. The others were right when they said closing off access to their research would only increase outsiders’ suspicions.

  Late in the day, Eva stopped by Mira’s workstation. “Mira, do you have a minute for me in my office?”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “I just want to talk, if that’s okay.”

  Mira followed her to the modest office. It was sparsely furnished: a desk with workstation, four titanium mesh chairs around a low table. Beside the station were pictures of Carey and Roz as teens, and one of a younger, smiling Eva with a good-looking red-haired man, his arm around her waist. The pixwall was tuned to an image of the colony exterior from high above. The dome, covered in regolith, looked almost like a natural surface feature, a crater filled with dust smoothed over to form a convex lid. Lights glared at the airlock complexes and in lines along the surface roads to outlying labs and the helium strip mines.

  Mira took a seat. On the wall opposite hung a plaque.

  Nurture life.

  Walk in love and beauty.

  Trust the knowledge that comes through the body.

  Speak the truth about conflict, pain, and suffering.

  Take only what you need.

  Think about the consequences of your actions for seven generations.

  Approach the taking of life with great restraint.

  Practice great generosity.

  Repair the web.

  The same creed graced the walls of half the Goddess-worshippers in the colony. Marco and Mira had made vicious fun of these pieties, inventing parodies until they rolled on the floor in laughter. Walk in a straight line. Take only what you can get away with. Repair the spider!

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Eva said.

  “No, thank you. What is this about?”

  Eva sat. She was sixty or so, a decade or more older than Hypatia, but though she did not invest in rejuvenation treatments, she was a striking woman. It was her poise that drew people, and her clarity. “It seemed to me that you were as upset as anyone at the research embargo, but you kept quiet.”

  “Everybody else said what needed to be said.”

  “The one question you did ask, I evaded. We don’t have any weapons research. But we do have things that we’d rather the patriarchies didn’t know about.”

  “Like what?’

  “I’d rather not say right now.”

  Mira couldn’t help laughing. “Why call me in if you’re not going to tell? Unless you’re trying to get credit for honesty without actually telling me anything.”

  “Because you are intelligent and resourceful. You don’t accept things without a reason. I’m asking that you not pursue this, for now.”

  “This embargo isn’t going to work. Like the others said, it will only inspire more paranoia.”

  “I agree. But we have to abide by the Board’s decision. If they’re right, then the situation will quiet; if you’re right, the situation will change and we’ll have to make new decisions. If I were to bet, I would bet on the latter.”

  Eva kept her eyes on Mira’s. Mira tried not to squirm. “There’s another reason I wanted to speak with you,” Eva said. “I hope you won’t mind my saying some things I’ve observed about you. I mean them only in kindness.”

  “All right,” Mira said warily.

  “Pushing girls out of the family at an early age doesn’t work for everyone. I hated leaving my mother. You didn’t care for yours, I gather, but being on your own hasn’t been good for you. You’re a loner. I was, too. I trusted others and was taken advantage of. It took me a long time to get past that, but I needed to. To live in a defensive crouch is deadening.

  “Your wariness is understandable. Your tough-mindedness is absolutely necessary to the future of the Society. I hope that the losses you’ve suffered will not kill your open-heartedness.” Eva looked down at her hands. “It’s hard to lose someone you love.”

  This was about as far from anything she could have imagined Eva wanting to talk about as Mira could conceive. “What are you getting at?”

  “I’m offering you a permanent job in Materials. Being engaged in the work has given me a place, and from that I built outward to create my life. There’s a chance for you here if you want it. Think it over.”

  Mira recalled the look Eva had given her and Hypatia at the glassblowing demonstration. “Thank you,” she said.

  “You earned it. Here’s another thing: Why don’t you come to the Green family picnic? You know Val, you know Carey, you know Roz, and even me, a little. Come and meet the rest of us.”

  This was too much. “Why are you doing this?”

  “One reason is that you take a legitimate interest in Val. Roz thinks you’re behind Carey’s taking Val. I don’t agree with her.”

  “Are you going to side with Carey against Roz?”

  “I would do just about anything for Carey, but I’m interested in what’s best for Val.”

  “So is Carey.”

  “I see that. Maybe this conflict between Carey and Roz can help work that out. Carey could use more responsibility.” Eva absently tapped her fingers on her desktop, then suddenly stopped. She smiled at Mira. “Any questions?”

  Mira had a score of questions. “No,” she said.

  “Well, then, give my offer some thought and let me know in a week or two.” Eva rose, and hugged Mira, and opened the door. “The picnic is in Sobieski Park on the fifteenth.”

  “Thank you,” Mira said.

  Later, as Mira rode the tram among others going off-shift, watching the concourse glide by, her thoughts spun between wonder and doubt. Open-hearted? A permanent job in Materials? The Green family picnic?

  A connection with the Greens would make Mira the envy of every scheming young woman in the colony. But Eva’s matronly confidences triggered Mira’s every suspicion. Her sincerity was either a sign of naiveté, which seemed impossible in somebody who had held as many political offices as Eva, or a stratagem. There was something willed about it. Mira expected wheels-within-wheels mental games from Hypatia; she did not know what to make of Eva.

  That two of the most powerful women in the colony were vying for Mira’s loyalty was some crazy opportunity. It left her extremely edgy. Her entire life Mira had wanted to believe that at some level she was extraordinary, yet she had been convinced that any strengths she h
ad would never be recognized. Nothing could make her question if she was worth anyone’s notice more than this attention.

  Just as the tram reached her station, Mira’s Aide whispered a message from Carey into her ear: Roz has filed for the return of Val. There’s going to be a hearing.

  • • • • •

  From the SoC Forum

  DeepThinker

  Carey Evasson is at the apex of the masculinity that expresses itself in physicality, men who use their bodies as honed tools. They submit themselves to extreme discipline, push themselves to their limits and beyond. Athletes, dancers, acrobats, actors. Such men are romanticized in our Society, their lives honored and stories told. Though in theory such skills can be transferred to certain utilitarian jobs classified as work, there are few such jobs.

  One big disadvantage for men who define themselves by this masculinity is that they have less access to that masculinity that defines itself in terms of technical knowledge, science, the professions. The founders of the Society did not place these different masculinities in a hierarchy, and encouraged men to express their maleness in any or all of them, but in practice these symbolic constructs—and others—are frequently in conflict.

  Few men can identify with and perform equally in all, and the fact that the masculinity of professionalism has much more practical utility means that physical masculinity, though it might make for fame and sexual desirability, is slighted in the world of work. Carey is great in bed. Carey can’t get a good job.

  He might have hoped to be a political leader, but given the unhappy history of the patriarchies, the masculinity that defines itself in terms of domination is not allowed to express itself politically in the SoC. Though he has some of the makings of one, there are no places here for corporate CEOs or generals.

  Descartes Before the Horse

  Stop talking about him as if he’s a case study. He’s a human being.

  DeepThinker

  @Descartes: Of course he’s a human being. I’m trying to define what sort of man he is.

  JPK

  You’ve only got the one life, and you better do something worthwhile with it. Can a man find that in the Society the way he can in one of the other colonies? That’s the existential question.