Finches of Mars by Brian W. Aldiss

teeming ocean of particles surrounding us.’
    She then became more technical, talking slowly, seeming to relish the minutiae of the research. Phipp left the chamber. Then another member followed, and another. Finally the talk was over and the remaining audience left the hall.
    Noel had been listening with Troed, the chief engineer, and Iggog.
    â€˜She lacks lecture skills,’ said Troed lightly, smiling.
    Responding, Iggog said, ‘The crowd was bored. You can easily learn a few lecture skills. A bit of humanity helps. She could have told us who this original Norman was.’
    Noel paused outside her door. ‘I trust you two realise that Shap was struggling with a concept—an enormously troubling concept … Well, it troubles me! She can see that if the hypothesis is correct, then we are not living in the universe we thought we were. We’re living in a quite different universe.
    â€˜And my belief is that she struggles to conceal this idea, so as not to frighten the troops …’

17
    Interlude: A Farewell To Families
    One of those ‘troops’ was Tad, a fairly recent arrival, having landed on Mars on the convoy only just before Sheea’s traumatic baby. His story had begun as mundanely as any other colonist’s … Tad Tadl and his partness, Ida Precious, stood in a cosy little room where plain nylon curtains hung down to a polished floor. On a small table in one corner were a squealer and a DTV set. Their home was in Reading, England. Outside, the big city’s roar could be heard. By the tall window hung a cage containing a canary, staring out from its perch. The canary’s wings fluttered slightly, as if it wished to escape from what it witnessed.
    Tad and Ida, who were buying the house, were arguing with one another. Tad claimed that he had a hunger to see Mars. ‘I’m the new generation! They’ve been there nearly ten years. The colonists are well-established by now.’
    Ida had at first agreed, citing a fact she had read that development of eyes had promoted the dawn of intelligence, and it was intelligence that insisted the human race should occupy its neighbour in space. In species such as plants and fungi, among the innumerable eyeless types, intelligence had not evolved.
    â€˜That is the case, obviously,’ Tad had said. ‘It’s only among the chordates you find intelligence. Who knows if, among the various bugs we inevitably take with us to Mars, intelligence may develop? Things are going to be different.’
    â€˜That’s what’s exciting. That’s the lure,’ she had said.
    Tad put a hand on Ida’s breast and made greedy gobbling noises.
    The hand of a man, the paw of a bear, the wing of a bird, all have an evolutionary relationship, all serve purposeful behaviour. But on the Moon, only the hand of man is to be found.
    A Western recession was now in its third year, growing deeper, afflicting even bank managers. Shoots to the Moon had in consequence been cut from once every six months to once every ten. Tad had booked their flight long ago, on one of those new graceful Chinese space planes. Now he was embarking on the Moon lift without Ida. He tried not to think of her.
    In recent days she had become silent. Tad had done his best to draw her out; Ida had closed her eyes and shaken her head. She would not accept his embraces.
    Finally, she had burst into speech. ‘It’s no good. I don’t want to go to bloody Mars! Why should anyone want to go to bloody Mars? Have they got coffee shops there? Movies? Gardens, streets, hotels? Music? Anything living or lively? Not a bit of it! Sorry, Tad—you go alone if you must!’
    And she had a job in a lousy bank.
    He found himself now seated in a crowded vehicle. Men and women were there, mainly in the twenties-to-forties age range. Few of them talked, some held hands, all were aware of the challenge of the enterprise on which they were already