Red Mars(138)
“What, me? No, John, you know me better than that. These destructions are stupid. The work of reds, from the look of it, and I am no red. I don’t know exactly who is doing it. Probably Ann does, have you asked her?”
“She says she doesn’t know.”
Arkady cackled. “Still my same John Boone! I love it. Look here, my friend, I will tell you why these things are happening, and then you can work at it systematically, and perhaps see more. Ah, here’s the subway to Stickney— come on, I want to show you the infinity vault, it’s really a nice piece of work.” He led John to the little subway car, and they floated down a tunnel to near the center of Phobos, where the car stopped and they got out. They pushed across the narrow room, and pulled themselves down a hall; John noted that his body had adjusted to the weightlessness, that he could float and keep his trim again. Arkady led him into an expansive open gallery, which on first glance appeared to be too large to be contained inside of Phobos: floor, wall and ceiling were paneled in faceted mirrors, and each round slab of polished magnesium had been angled so that anyone in its microgravity space was reflected in thousands of infinite regresses.
They touched down on the floor and hooked their toes through rings, floating like sea-bottom plants in a shifting crowd of Arkadys and Johns. “You see, John, the economic basis of life on Mars is now changing,” Arkady said. “No, don’t you dare scoff! So far we have not been living in a money economy, that’s the way scientific stations are. It’s like winning a prize that frees you from the economic wheel. We won that prize, and so did a lot of others, and we’ve all been here for years now, living that way. But now more people are flooding onto Mars, thousands of them! And many of them plan to work here, make some money, and return to Earth. They work for the transnationals that have gotten UNOMA concessions. The letter of the Mars treaty is being kept because supposedly UNOMA is in charge of it all, but the spirit of the treaty is being broken left and right, by the U.N. itself.”
John was nodding. “Yes, I’ve seen that. Helmut told me about it right to my face.”
“Helmut is a snail. But listen, when the treaty renewal comes up, they will change the letter of the law to match the new spirit. Or even give themselves license to do more. It’s the discovery of strategic metals, and all the open space. These represent salvation to a lot of countries down there, and new territory for the transnationals.”
“And you think they’ll have enough support to change the treaty?”
Millions of Arkadys stared bug-eyed at millions of John. “Don’t be so naíve! Of course they have enough support! Look, the Mars treaty is based on the old Outer Space treaty. That was the first mistake, because the Outer Space treaty was in fact a very fragile arrangement, and so the Mars treaty is too. According to the treaty’s own provisions, countries can become voting members of the treaty council by establishing an interest here, which is why we’re seeing all the new national scientific stations, the Arab League, Nigeria, Indonesia, Azania, Brazil, India and China and all the rest. And quite a few of these new countries are becoming treaty members specifically with the intent to break the treaty at renewal time. They want to open up Mars to individual governments, outside U.N. control. And the transnationals are using flag-of-convenience countries like Singapore and the Seychelles and Moldavia to try to open Mars to private settlement, ruled by corporations.”
“The renewal is still a few years off,” John said.
A million Arkadys rolled their eyes. “It’s happening now. Not just in talk, but in what’s happening day-to-day down there. When we first arrived, and for twenty years after that, Mars was like Antarctica but even purer. We were outside the world, we didn’t even own things— some clothes, a lectern, and that was it! Now you know what I think, John. This arrangement resembles the prehistoric way to live, and it therefore feels right to us, because our brains recognize it from three millions of years practicing it. In essence our brains grew to their current configuration in response to the realities of that life. So as a result people grow powerfully attached to that kind of life, when they get the chance to live it. It allows you to concentrate your attention on the real work, which means everything that is done to stay alive, or make things, or satisfy one’s curiosity, or play. That is utopia, John, especially for primitives and scientists, which is to say everybody. So a scientific research station is actually a little model of prehistoric utopia, carved out of the transnational money economy by clever primates who want to live well.”