Evolution

It took a full five seconds before Alan Lister could force his eyes down to meet those of Trevor York. Amused with himself, he wondered if that was the reason that York wore his hair in such an unnecessarily dramatic style. If people were staring at the top of his head, they would not notice the predator behind the eyes.

“Good morning, Commissioner Lister,” York said, his hand outstretched.

Lister paused briefly to admire the smoothly modulated voice. He could see why people followed York—he had presence, a sort of oily charisma.

“Good morning, Trevor.” He made no attempt to match the other’s projection of bonhomie.

“I’d like to thank you for taking the time to see me. I realize that you have a busy schedule and that interviews are not productive time for you.”

Lister belatedly realized that there was a cameraman silently sweeping in an arc to the right, his palmcam staying steadily focused on the conversation. An attractive woman was moving with him, staying an arm’s length away so as not to interfere with his field of view. She carried an enormous bag slung over her shoulder.

Tight, polished, professional. Lister made a mental note not to underestimate York. The man certainly had not achieved his current popularity by accident.

York noticed his attention and smiled. “I hope you don’t mind my crew. Naturally, we need to have shots for the show.”

“It’s no problem at all.”

“Do you mind if we begin?”

“Certainly not.”

“Commissioner Lister, as I’m sure you’re aware, there are those on Earth who feel that Luna took unfair advantage of their generosity. They are concerned about the amount of money that was spent, your attitude towards the recent economic problems on Earth, and, in particular, your handling of the Emily Starnes crisis. How would you defend your actions against those accusations?”

Lister gave him a faint smile. “I don’t intend to.”

York blinked in surprise. “You have nothing to say?”

“I have plenty to say. It’s just that I have no intention of defending my actions. That implies that I am on trial for doing something wrong. I have done nothing of the sort.”

“Turning your back on the people of Earth isn’t wrong? Those people put you where you are today.”

“This may come as a shock to some of your viewers, Trevor, but there is no contract between the citizens of Luna and the people of Earth. Earth spent the money to start the Lunar colonies of its own free will. It’s a little late in the game to start demanding payback. I’d also like to point out an important fact that often slips through the cracks in discussions like this—the overwhelming majority of the money that Earth spent was spent on Earth, paying Earth’s wages and buying Earth’s products. That money filtered through Earth’s economy, not Luna’s, providing income for grocery store clerks and charge station attendants down there. Earth’s economy benefitted greatly from starting the Lunar colonies, and anyone who pretends otherwise either hasn’t looked at the numbers carefully enough, or they’re purposefully ignoring them. Honestly, it looks to me as though Earth derived the most benefit from those dollars. It seems a little greedy to be asking for payback in addition to what you’ve already gotten.”

Something indefinable crossed York’s face. “So you’re denying that you owe Earth anything?”

“Listen carefully, Trevor. If I buy you a beer of my own free will, are you under any obligation to buy me one in return?”

“But it’s not the same! We spent billions—”

Lister’s eyebrows raised. “So the amount of money is the variable? At what point does the switch occur? One billion? Ten? The cost of the second beer? We owe Earth nothing.”

York stared, then switched tactics. “Simple human decency would have dictated that you help Emily Starnes. The poor woman starved to death right here in Crisium. How do you justify that?”

“I don’t have to. It’s not as though we locked her in a room and denied her food. As you and every other mortal being in Luna and on Earth are aware by now, Emily Starnes crossed through the Holmes Door of her own free will and hid in a side tunnel down in an unfinished level. We have the death penalty here in Crisium, but we certainly didn’t apply it to her. She killed herself. You can call it accidental death, or you can call it suicide, but either way, she chose the course of actions that led to her death. I feel no more guilt over her death than I would if someone died of explosive decompression on the surface after choosing not to check their surface suit before going out. People make choices every day. Some are fatal. Life is dangerous.”

“You’re a monster!” York roared in outrage.

“That depends on your definition. Perhaps I am,” Lister admitted calmly. “On the other hand, I happen to think that you, or rather, the current society on Earth, is the monster. You created Emily Starnes—the product of a sick society. Then you blamed her fate on us. We simply chose not to accept the guilt. It’s that simple.”