concurrence.
It soon became clear that, when all was said and done, the recommendations of the Joint Planning Subcommittee were going to prevail relatively unscathed. Nevertheless, everyone agreed that the five-day hearing period should be maintained. It was important that time be allowed so that Inlanders with a distance to travel would be able to have their say. Also, there were numerous individuals who, even if they approved the plan in general, wanted to be heard, and required time to get their thoughts together.
On the morning of the third day, for example, a group of academics made a presentation on behalf of “pure science” as opposed to engineering and technological development. This was a subject that the planners had not considered in any depth. Although many of the engineers knew a lot about science, the group contained only a few honest-to-goodness scientists—physicists, chemists, biologists, astronomers, and the like. There were several such professionals among the Inlanders and a number among the spouses who had traveled on the
Tom Swift, speaking on behalf of the R and D directors, gave assurances that the scientists would be provided with all possible resources and cooperation. “Yet, obviously, it will be a very long time before we get around to building cyclotrons and radio telescopes.” What he did not say, but thought, was: who knows when, if ever, we will recover the scientific knowledge—and genius—that was eradicated in the Event?
This rather melancholy interlude was followed by the boisterous entry of the self-anointed environmentalists. Banging on tin pans and carrying hand-painted signs, the group captured the attention they desired as they walked into the open meeting. Herb Green and Roxanne Ford stood in the front ranks, waving jauntily at the other members of the Focus Group in the audience. In large letters their placards bore a single word: warning.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Alf Richards shouted above the din. “We hear your message, and agree with you that it is important that environmental considerations be taken into account in all technological decisions.”
“Too vague,” Roxy replied, speaking for her fellow Greens. “We want the establishment of an environmental protection ‘agency,’ controlled by both specialists and citizens.” The public response seemed evenly divided between bravos and jeers.
Richards used his kitchenware gavel to regain order. “The chair will grant your request,” he announced, speaking above the uproar. This spur-of-the-moment decision came mostly because he did not have the time or the fortitude for a prolonged debate with these activists from a world now past… and he agreed with them, at least in part. “You two will co-chair this ‘agency,’ and I’ll appoint two more members when I have a chance to think about it for more than five seconds.”
The eco-activists accepted this victory with quiet satisfaction. However, they made it known that from this time forward they would be maintaining an active watch on all planning activities.
On the fourth day of open meetings, a sizable number of Inlanders arrived, some of them having traveled from the far limits of the Ulundi Circle. They brought with them no significant objections to the proposals for technical development. But this did not mean that they gave the Planning Subcommittee a passing grade. One well-organized group—Alf Richards called them “the United Nations Gang”—expressed serious concerns about the planners’ neglect of politics, law, and economics.
“It is all very well,” said Sanyova Masekela, one of the Zulu elders, “to devote ourselves to material improvements and to say that, after working together in harmony for a year, we will begin to consider social organization. We understand that Peter Mavimbela, speaking on behalf of the miners, has agreed to this concept, and we do not disavow his commitment. But a year is a long time, and there are many among us who believe that discussions should begin as soon as it is practicable.”
“I and my colleagues here agree,” said Ann Meijers. Ann was an experienced government administrator from Pietermaritzburg. “We come to you on behalf of blacks and whites and Indians, thoughtful South Africans all—most of whom, even before the Event, experienced upheavals that they had hoped would be enough for one lifetime. We appreciate your commitment to restoring the physical necessities of life. And we thank the fates that sent people of such talent here to our shores. But engineering is not enough, not nearly enough. We need to start work on a constitution, a legal code, and most of all perhaps, an economic system. It seems to us that we absolutely cannot delay.”
Dr. Wilson Hardy’s shoulders sagged as he listened to these comments. Other members of the two committees, South Africans as well as Engineering Villagers, reacted with dejection as well, but tried not to show their disappointment. Having devoted heart and soul to strategies for survival, they were reaching the point of exhaustion.
The Joint Planning Subcommittee had been directed to concentrate on technical objectives, and this alone had proved to be a daunting task, almost beyond the group’s capacity. Yet here were fellow survivors exhorting them to move immediately to a different level, to do nothing less than establish the social structure of a new civilization.
The younger Hardy’s Focus Group, of course, had been thinking and debating along the same lines. They were more than ready, at any time, to talk about social goals. Nevertheless, Wil felt sorry for his father and the other members of the leadership team.
Paradoxically, this most difficult of problems proved not very difficult to resolve. The matter was handled in the inevitable—perhaps the only—way: by appointing new committees. Most important, a Constitutional Committee was established, with Meijers and Mavimbela agreeing to serve alongside a number of Outlanders, and with Hardy and Nordstrom as ex officio members.
No sooner had the United Nations Gang departed than another large delegation made its appearance. They had been waiting their turn quietly and in good order, but they strode into the meeting with a firm step that bespoke resolution.
These were “the Crusaders”—Tom Swift’s irreverent but affectionate nickname for them, since his Mary was one of the leaders. The Crusaders were marching on behalf of religion. This at first seemed innocuous to those in attendance. Nobody could take exception to prayers offered and beliefs expressed, particularly in time of crisis. However, these true believers were not to be satisfied with soft words and new committees. They wanted action and commitment. They wanted physical places of worship, and to that end asked for an allocation of workers and materials from Shaka Enterprises. This request drove Alf Richards to the brink of apoplexy.
“Look here, friends,” he said, with a tinge of acid in his booming voice, “I think that none of us wants to create any divisions among the people, or establish any hierarchy of bishops or imams or priests. This is dangerous and counter to every effort we have made to be fair and treat everyone equally. So, if we approve one church, one mosque, one synagogue, one prayer mat, how many other requests, large and small, can we then deny? We must also consider priorities. It is urgent that we build living quarters and shelter for our people before we even think about churches or theaters or stadiums.”
At this point, Millie Fox raised her hand and was recognized. She spoke softly but with a solemnity that captured the attention of all present. “I grew up a Southern Baptist,” she said, “and still hold that faith in my heart. I believe that religious practice need not be in conflict with the work undertaken for the physical survival and common good of all our people. In many parts of the developing world, where I have been personally with the Peace Corps, I have seen houses of worship serve also as clinics, schools, and meeting halls. There is no reason not to build multipurpose public structures that will serve the entire community and different religious groups as well.”
This idea generated applause from the audience. Alf Richards, struggling to shed his curmudgeon’s attitude, pledged support for the concept. No one could know for certain how Millie Fox’s proposal might work in practice—a Catholic church cum Buddhist shrine cum Muslim mosque cum synagogue cum classroom? But all agreed it was worth a try. And as the fourth day of the Coordinating Committee’s open meetings ended with a multifaith lovefest, there was a widely shared feeling of progress and goodwill.
Wil Hardy awoke on the fifth and final day of the open sessions and found Sarah already up and gone. She had told him that she would be making a presentation to the meeting; she wanted to do something on behalf of the
