Shadow's End by Sheri S. Tepper Page B

also a few outposts and colonization teams. This time there are four systems containing a dozen worlds, most of which have been homo-normed to Class D, basic treefarm grass-pasture biome, with all native life eliminated except for a few tough but relatively unimportant species. Yes.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œAnd Dinadh, the single world of its own system, doesn’t want to be involved. They’ve refused intervention. The other populated systems are cooperating in what we call an evacuation. It’s purely symbolic. We can’t really evacuate the population; we couldn’t even keep up with the birth rate. We’re giving first priority to people who have friends here in Prime. In addition to the symbolic gesture, we’ve actually removed advance teams from several worlds.” Thunder-man referred to his notes. “From planet Mandalay and the first moon of Cabal in Jerome’s system; and from a planet in Goan’s system, Perdur Alas.”
    â€œWhere the hell will you put evacuees?” asked the Procurator in a whisper. “Every habitable world is full to the shores!”
    â€œThere’s a used-up planet a bit nearer in, across the space time border in Janivant Sector, yes. Borthal’s World. The original population on Borthal’s colonied outa couple of generations back, shortly before it hit crit-popple and ah …perished.”
    â€œCrit-popple?” Poracious Luv murmured, her lips quirking.
    The Procurator cleared his throat. “Some of the younger administrators have their own jargon, Madam Luv. We used to say things like, ‘absolute carrying capacity,’ or ‘sanity limitation.’ Lately it’s become critical population level, crit-popple.”
    Thunder-man went on: “As I was saying, there’s no flora or fauna left on Borthal’s, but we’ve seeded the seas with resistant photocellulars for oxygen production, and we’re stockpiling foodstuffs there now. Practically speaking, there won’t be that many evacuees. Most of them will be children, and we can only get a few tens of thousands off.”
    The three visitors sat in gloomy silence.
    Poracious Luv murmured, “How long is the Alliance going to go on promising a continually expanding frontier?”
    â€œDon’t talk dirty,” boomed Twisted-tree. “You talk like that, somebody’ll hear you.”
    â€œSomebody’s already heard me,” she snorted. “The Celosians don’t care if I talk population limitation for the Pooacks. The Pooacks don’t care if I talk population limitation for the Schrinbergians. So long as I don’t mean them, they don’t care. Sometimes, late at night, I have these dreams about all the animals….”
    â€œAnimals?” asked the Procurator. “What animals?”
    â€œAll of them. The ones in pattern storage. In the files. Whales. Elephants. Grampuses. Winged things, some of them. I have these dreams. The souls of all the animals are speaking to me, condemning mankind as the greatest beast of the field. They make a kind of hollow roar, like the sound of the sea.”
    â€œThis is no time to be fanciful!” Twisted-tree announced.“Besides, I find your words offensive. Man is not an animal.”
    She made a rude gesture. “You Firsters have been top-aheap ever since you came up with that ‘universe made for man’ claptrap.”
    Twisted-tree snarled, “Fastigats are not Firsters, madam, any more than kings are commoners. As kings and commoners may share pride of identity while being otherwise unlike, so we and Firsters share certain opinions. Neither they nor we are the first to have those opinions, and the Firsters are saying no more than we have always said. The universe was made for man.”
    The Procurator said, “Firsters are oversimplifying, of course. ‘Humanity first’ leaves certain refinements unaccounted for. Still, their numbers