She said in an exasperated voice, “I’ve known there was something out of line almost from the first. The actions of this alleged virus seemed entirely too dependent upon where one had one’s children and what family one came from. Calvy has eight, four boys, four girls. Marool Mantelby was one of eight daughters. Both Marool’s mother and Carezza bore their children at home. It became glaringly obvious that the Hags were keeping tight control on the woman supply in order to remain in power, and that some men like Calvy, who had figured it out, were letting them do it.”
“You think staying in power is why they do it?”
“That’s usually the reason for arbitrary cruelty.”
“You think it’s cruel?”
“Don’t you?” she cried, stung.
“Do you know what happens to the babies?”
“They do away with them! I said as much to the Hags, there at the Fauxi-dizalonz, and they didn’t deny it. Not even when your friend Madame begged them to.”
He reached forward to lay his hand on her own, just for a moment, stroke. “They didn’t deny what you said, which is true. But they didn’t understand what you meant by it. You meant by ‘done away with’ that the babies are killed.”
“Of course,” she cried. “What else?”
“Everything else! They’re put in stasis and sent off planet, to newly settled worlds where women are in short supply and where every little girl will be very much valued and honored. As they are here. The Hags exact a good price for them, and the profits support old women here on Newholme who could be in great need otherwise.”
Questioner found herself momentarily speechless. She had never considered any other outcome than death. She had assumed … she who had long ago learned never to assume. She sat for a long moment silent before whispering, “Why didn’t they explain?”
“Because you were angry, and you told them not to attempt explanation.”
“By all the follies of Flagia, why did I assume they killed the babies?”
“Because of your own suffering children who were killed,” murmured Mouche. “You were angry on their behalf. Madame says when we focus on our anger, our vision begins to constrict. Soon we are caught up in fury, and we turn it upon everyone.”
She complained, “But the Hags didn’t have to choose that way of doing things. Surely there’s a better solution!”
“If you can suggest one, I know they’d be happy to hear it. They aren’t monsters, Questy. They’re the descendants of the cultural historians on the second ship, and their ancestresses knew very well that surpluses breed contempt. Too many of anything reduces the honor in which it is held: too many men, too many women, too many children, too many people.
“The Hags saw their duty as taking care of women, and they did it. There’s no female prostitution or slavery on Newholme. There are no poor elderly widows. There are no poor, unwed mothers. If I were calling the game, I’d call that a trump card.” He took up the card from one side of his hand, the ten of love, and laid it face up on the table.
Questioner frowned at the table, spreading her own hand, face up. Not a love card among them. Only shovels and clubs, labor and management. Duty and efficiency. Her life. “An artificial shortage surely isn’t what Haraldson had in mind—”
Mouche interrupted her. “I know. I thought you’d say that. But I’ve been talking to Calvy. He’s one of the few men on Newholme who actually reads the COW journals, including your reports. He told me to remind you about Beltran Four.”
“Beltran Four!”
“Mmm.”
“It’s a very warlike planet.”
“Many fewer men than women?”
“Yes. Because so many men are killed in the battles.”
“And the warrior elite keep the battles going. For honor. For reputation. For rapine.”
She said reluctantly, “Yes.”
“And did you sterilize all mankind on Beltran Four? Because half their young men are slaughtered in battle?”
She frowned at him. “Calvy told you to ask me this.”
“He did. He said he’d been following your career for some decades, reading your recommendations and the reports you’d made to COW. He said to ask you which was worse, slaughtering half the young men in battles, or selling half the girl babies to planets where they’ll be appreciated? On Beltran Four, a male hierarchy guarantees that they will have their choice of women. On Newholme, a female hierarchy guarantees that women will have a choice of men. In both cases, the surplus is eliminated, but here, at least, no one dies.”