Can't you see how much this place has to alter in
just the next century?We're so used to things
staying much the same, to society and technology -
at least immediately available technology - hardly
changing over our lifetimes that I don't know any of
us could cope for long down here.I think it'll affect
you a lot more than the locals.They're used to
change, used to it all happening fast.All right, you
like the way it is now, but what happens later?
What if 2077 is as different from now as this is
from 1877?This might be the end of a Golden Age,
world war or not.What chance do you think the
West has of keeping the status quo with the Third
World?I'm telling you; end of the century and you'll
feel lonely and afraid and wonder why they've
deserted you and you'll be the worst nostalgic
they've got because you'll remember it better than
they ever will and you won't remember anything
else from before now.'
He just stood looking at me.The TV showed part of
a ballet in black and white, then an interview; two
white men who looked American somehow (and
the fuzzy picture looked US standard), then a quiz
show, then a puppet show, again in
monochrome.You could see the strings.Linter put
his glass down on the granite table and went over
to the Hifi, turning on the tape deck.I wondered
what little bit of planetary accomplishment I was
going to be treated to.
The picture on the screen settled to one programme
for a while.It looked vaguely familiar; I was sure
I'd seen it.A play; last century American writer, but
(Linter went back to his seat, while the music
began; the Four Seasons.)
Henry James, The Ambassadors .It was a TV
production I'd seen on the BBC while I was in
London or maybe the ship had repeated it.I couldn't
recall.What I did recall was the plot and the
setting, both of which seemed so apposite to my
little scene with Linter that I started to wonder
whether the beast upstairs was watching all
this.Probably was, come to think of it.And not
much point in looking for anything; the ship could
produce bugs so small the main problem with
camera stability was Brownian motion.Was The
Ambassadors a sign from it then?Whatever; the
play was replaced by a commercial for Odor-
Eaters.
'I've told you,' Linter brought me back from my
musings, speaking quietly, 'I'm prepared to take my
chances.Do you think I haven't thought it all through
before, many times?This isn't sudden, Sma; I felt
like this my first day here, but I waited for months
before I said anything, so I'd be sure.It's what I've
been looking for all my life, what I've always
wanted.I always knew I'd know it when I found it,
and I have.' He shook his head; sadly, I thought.
'I'm staying, Sma.'
I shut up.I suspected that despite what he'd just
said he hadn't thought about how much the planet
would change during his long likely lifetime, and
there were still other things to be said, but I didn't
want to press too hard too quickly.I made myself
relax on the couch and shrugged. 'Anyway, we
don't know for sure what the ship's going to do;
what they'll decide.'
He nodded, picked up a paperweight from the
granite table and turned it over and over in his
hand.The music shimmered through the room, like
the sun on water reflected; points producing lines,
dancing quietly. 'I know,' he said, still gazing at the
heavy globe of twisted glass, 'this must seem like a
mad idea but I just just want the place.' He looked at me - for the first time, I thought - without a
challenging scowl or stern coolness.
'I know what you mean,' I said. 'But I can't
understand it perfectly maybe I'm more suspicious
than you are; it's just you tend to be more
concerned for other people than for yourself
sometimes you assume they haven't thought things
through the way you would have yourself.' I sighed,
almost laughed. 'I guess I'm assuming you'll hoping
you'll change your mind.'
Linter was silent for a while, still studying the
hemisphere of coloured glass. 'Maybe I will.' He
shrugged massively. 'Maybe I will,' he said,
looking at me speculatively.He coughed. 'Did the
ship tell you I've been to India?'
'India?No; no, it didn't.'
'I went there for a couple of weeks.I didn't tell the
Arbitrary I was going, though it found out, of
course.'
'Why?I mean why did you want to go?'
'I wanted to see the place,' Linter said, sitting
forward in the seat, rubbing the paperweight, then
replacing it on the granite table and rubbing his
palms together. 'It was beautiful beautiful.If I'd had
any second thoughts, they vanished there.' He
looked at me, face suddenly open, intent, his hands
outstretched, fingers wide. 'It's the contrast, the' he
looked away, apparently made less articulate by
the vividness of the impression. ' the highlights, the