Contact - Carl Sagan [90]
Ellie did not rise to the bait, and he continued. "Now a major question is going to be who pays for what, who builds what, who's in charge of overall systems integration. I think we can do some real horse trading on this, in exchange for significant American representation in the crew."
"But we still want to send the best possible people," der Heer noted, a little obviously.
"Sure," returned Kitz, "but what do we mean by `best'? Scientists? People with military intelligence backgrounds? Physical strength and endurance? Patriotism? (That's not a dirty word, you know.) And then" - he looked up from buttering another croissant to glance directly at Ellie - "there's the question of sex. Sexes, I mean. Do we send only men? If it's men and women, there has to be more of one sex than the other. There's five places, an odd number. Are all the crew members going to work together okay? If we go ahead with this project, there's gonna be a lot of tough negotiation."
"This doesn't sound right to me," said Ellie. "This isn't some ambassadorship you buy with a campaign contribution. This is serious business. Also, do you want some muscle bound moron up there, some kid in his twenties who knows nothing about how the world works-just how to run a respectable hundred yard dash and how to obey orders? Or some political hack? That can't be what this trip is about."
"No, you're right." Kitz smiled. "I think we'll find people who satisfy all our criteria."
Der Heer, the bags under his eyes making him look almost haggard, adjourned the meeting. He managed to give Ellie a small private smile, but it was all lips, no teeth. The Embassy limousines were waiting to take them back to the Elysйe Palace.
"I'll tell you why it would be better to send Russians," Vaygay was saying. "When you Americans were opening up your country-pioneers, trappers, indian scouts, all that-you were unopposed, at least by anyone at your level of technology. You raced across your continent from the Atlantic to the Pacific. After a while, you expected everything would be easy. Our situation was different. We were conquered by the Mongols. Their horse technology was much superior to ours. When we expanded eastward we were careful. We never crossed the wilderness and expected it would be easy. We're more adjusted to adversity than you are. Also, Americans are used to being ahead technologically. We're used to catching up technologically. Now, everybody on Earth is a Russian-you understand, I mean in our historical position. This mission needs Soviets more than it needs Americans."
Merely meeting with her alone entailed certain risks for Vaygay-and for her as well, as Kitz had gone out of his way to remind her. Sometimes, during a scientific meeting in America or Europe, Vaygay would be permitted to spend an afternoon with her. More often he was accompanied by colleagues or a RGB babysitter-who would be described as a translator, even when his English was clearly inferior to Vaygay's; or as a scientist from the secretariat of this or that Academy commission, except that his knowledge of the scientific matters often proved superficial. Vaygay would shake his head when asked about them. But by and large, he considered the babysitters a part of the game, the price you must pay when they let you visit the West, and more than once she thought she detected a note of affection in Vaygay's voice when he talked to the babysitter: To go to a foreign country and pretend to be expert in a subject you know poorly must be filled with anxiety. Perhaps, in their heart of hearts, the babysitters detested their assignment as much as Vaygay did.
They were seated at the same window table at Chez Dieux. A distinct chill was in the air, a premonition of winter, and a young man wearing a long blue scarf as his only concession to the cold strode briskly past the tubs of chilled oysters outside the window.