The intrigue I felt for my journey to understand the Endowments was the one thing that elevated my mood after Tara’s rejection. It had occurred to me more than once that Mr. Grant might be having a big laugh at my expense. If he hadn’t been so intensely interested in this subject I might have concluded as much. But his sincerity and the riddle that he held in front of me were too enticing to resist. I gave myself over to his instructions, which meant I would meet with five more individuals. If they would turn out to be half as interesting as Chip Johnson, there could be no down side to the journey. It was a good counterbalance to the pain I was feeling over possibly losing Tara’s affections.
***
I waited nearly twenty minutes in Professor Jacob Donnelly’s cramped office, packed with books and stacks of papers. He had seemed eager to meet with me when I spoke to him on the phone the day before, so I had to assume his tardiness was not from indifference.
I heard the clomp-clomp of footsteps growing louder in the corridor until a tall thin man appeared in the door frame. Thick hair, thick beard, and thick glasses. Professor Donnelly's physique was not what I expected, though he was just as disheveled as any academic might be. His mild manner immediately put me at ease.
“Ah, John. I have to apologize,” he said as he shook my hand and bustled his way over to his cluttered desk. “This is a difficult part of the semester. The students are very needy,” he said, smiling and tilting his head slightly, as if to say, “you know what I mean.”
He landed heavily in his chair. “I have to admit I was surprised to get your call. It’s been such a long time since I was involved in space policy matters. But then, given the scope of the space station program, I guess it does make sense to discuss space colonization again.”
“Well, Mr. Grant didn’t mention space colonization specifically,” I lied because I wanted to honor Mr. Grant’s insistence that I not discuss the plaque, “but he thought you could help me with a speech I’m writing by explaining to me, in a general way, why you’re so passionate about space.” I had decided to couch my questioning in the guise of preparing for a speech, which allowed me to avoid mentioning my real purpose.
“Oh …well.” He seemed flustered. “To be honest, since the summer study at MIT in 1975, and my subsequent reports and co-authorship of a book on the matter—and that was almost fifteen years ago—I haven’t focused much academic energy on space development. There is very little space-related grant money for urban planning research.”
“The summer study?”
“Yes. On space colonization.” Noting my blank expression he said, “I see you’re not familiar with this study. In the summer of 1975, NASA sponsored a three-month study at MIT. They brought together a group of about fifty experts from a wide range of disciplines. I was brought in to give input on the needs for large-scale community development that would fit into the parameters of the baseline technology. It was quite an exciting time. Apollo had just concluded as a huge success that year. NASA was building the Space Shuttle—of course, we didn’t know at the time all the problems we would have getting it up and flying. But, for those few weeks in 1975 it seemed like anything was possible—even the colonization of space. So, as I said, I’m not sure what I could offer you of value, if not for my work relating to space settlements.”
Feeling that I had no alternative but to stay in the realm of Professor Donnelly’s interest and experience, I said, “Okay then, let’s talk about that study and we’ll see where it takes us.”
Heartened, he went on, “All right. Here, let me show you.”
From a corner of his book shelf he pulled out a couple of publications that seemed not to have been disturbed in years. The first book was a large format soft cover report of the 1975 study printed by NASA titled Space Settlements: A Design Study. This was the sort of publication NASA put out for public consumption. Like other NASA reports, it contained dramatic pictures and artists' conceptions, was written for a lay audience, and offered policy recommendations. I flipped through the book while Professor Donnelly spoke. The pages were yellowing with faded notations in the margins.
The other book was hardbound. Though it was in better shape, the dated dust jacket design gave away its age. The title was Space Colonization: The Technical & Sociological Implications. I noted Professor Donnelly’s name as one of three co-authors. Glancing at the table of contents, I could see the book was divided into sections, with Donnelly covering urban architecture and sociological topics.
“Take it, John. I can’t say this was a best seller. I still have a dozen copies in a box around here somewhere.” I thanked him and I felt obliged to ask him to sign the book. He was more than pleased to scratch his name broadly on the cover page and inscribed the message, “To John, look closely and you will find the purpose in humankind’s desire for space.” After reading his inscription, I nodded politely at him in gratitude to indicate I get your meaning, though I wasn’t at all sure I had.
“I remember your boss, Harrison Grant, during the briefings. He was very interested in the social aspects of what space colonization would mean not only to the people living in space habitats, but also to the people who didn’t go. 'How would space colonists interact with the home planet?,' he kept asking. I was very impressed by his level of knowledge of all technical matters. You should consider yourself lucky, John, to be working for him.”
“I do.” We shared a smile and I continued, “What do you see as the relevance between the 1975 Space Settlement study and the current return from the space station program?” I thought this would help to steer the conversation in the direction of professor's passion for space, and more specifically the Endowment he was to share with me.
“Well, don’t you see? It’s quite obvious. An orbiting space station is a precursor step that will lead to a future colony. The space station can be a test bed for many of the technologies we’ll need for large-scale communities.”
I responded, “But no one inside or outside of NASA is arguing that the space station is a precursor to space colonies. As a testing ground for further human exploration of the solar system, yes. Eventually on to Mars, perhaps.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. As I said, I haven’t been keeping up with these matters. But, let’s forget for a minute about what anyone in Washington is saying about the purpose of the space station. Let’s imagine for a moment that the station is operational. It’s manned with rotating crews of astronauts and scientists. They help to gain knowledge about living and working in the space environment. Eventually, we return to the moon, and set up a base there. Then go on to Mars even. We continue to build our knowledge base about surviving in the hostile environment of space. Where does that then lead? To more exploration missions? Yes, but then what? Do you see where I’m going with this?”
“Not really,” I said honestly.
“You see, it’s not just about the exploration. In the long run, it can’t be just about the exploration. Eventually, people will want to create a settlement on the new frontier. There are people who are ready right now, no doubt. What is the point of sending humans to explore space, if not as trailblazers who lead the way for the settlers?”
I wanted to agree with him. But when I thought in terms of the political realities inside the Washington beltway, his logic evaporated. Yet, sitting in that cramped office, Donnelly’s logic made all the sense in the world.
“But why are you so excited about the space program?” I asked directly.
“What excites me most about the space program is not how we get there, but what are we going to do once we do get there. Space is not like Antarctica as some people insist. We can’t view outer space as a hostile territory meant only for intrepid research scientists. Antarctic research is unique in that the terrain is finite, a precious limited piece of real estate worth preserving as it is for all future generations. The space above the Earth’s atmosphere, however, is a whole other story. To compare Antarctica to outer space is like comparing a…a house plant to the Amazon jungle.” He chuckled at his own comparison, as if he had never quite put it that way before.
More seriously he said, “Space is where we will eventually build new places for our civilization to grow and develop.”
“Chip Johnson says that it’s the spirit of exploration that drives us to want to travel to space. He calls it the wanderer in us,” I added in the hope of deriving some concurrence between the two men.
Slightly shaking his head in disagreement, he continued, “We’re settlers much more than we are explorers or wanderers. The settlers of our species far outnumber the explorers, don’t they?” He paused, eyebrow raised, waiting for my nonverbal agreement, and went on.
“Once we can adequately provide the means for people to travel to space and live there permanently, there will never be a shortage of pioneers willing to take the chance on a new way of life.
“From my area of expertise in the history of urban planning, I can tell you that some colonies will thrive and many will die. Some settlers will find their new homes in space exciting and exhilarating while others will hate the experience and look for the soonest opportunity to come back home to Earth. That’s just the nature of how humans spread. This is the way it has always been.
“So much has been said comparing space colonization to westward expansion in nineteenth century America, but this wasn’t a practice unique to Americans, or even with European colonialism of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. Every culture in the world is made of settlers and has been since our species first emerged on this planet millions of year ago. Whether it was the promise of more abundant hunting or promise of gold, it has never taken much to inspire the human beings to seek to make a new life for themselves in some new distant land.
“To be space settlers is, in a way, about the most human thing we could do.”
He pondered his next statement for a moment and suddenly let out a sharp “Hah!” and startled me out of my lulled attention. Smiling to himself, he explained, “I would argue that not to create settlements in space would be about the most inhuman thing our advanced civilization could do,” and he looked at me for a reaction. I smiled mirroring his amusement at the insight.
“Just knowing that my species is on the verge of permanently moving off this planet and will create new towns, cities and new civilizations up there, fills me with such a tremendous sense of awe.” And he was in that moment. And his awe was infectious as I couldn’t help feeling some of the intensity of the possibility myself.
With professorial skill, he then changed vocal tone and launched into another point, “Think about how we define a settlement. What exactly is a settlement? When people settle on a particular piece of geography they are creating a place that protects the population from the surrounding environment. Humans realized very early on that in order to survive they need to employ their ingenuity to build themselves apart from the hostile environment that contained so many threats. This primitive need to protect ourselves from the dangers of the wild is at the very heart of the millennia-long growth and development of human civilization.” He lifted his eyebrows to make sure I was getting all this so far.
“Along the way, we got really good at thriving even in extreme hostile environments. I like the example of the Inuits. Why in the world would any humans choose to migrate and live at such an inhospitable latitude at the edge of the Arctic Circle? Yet there they have thrived for thousands of years. They developed the technologies they needed to survive in that unforgiving land. They have learned to keep the hostile weather and wildlife at bay. They didn’t have to go north. The continent wasn’t so populated that they couldn’t have found a location farther south. But at some point, the settlements were founded by people who saw the beauty and possibility in the barren frozen wasteland, and who chose to make it their home. Such is the case now with the prospect of human settlement of space.” He paused again to make sure I was paying attention.
“Now here’s my point. It is our uncanny ability to build settlements that protect us from hostile environments that will enable us to develop the necessary technologies for space settlements. In fact, you couldn’t find an engineer or scientist who would doubt our ability to do so, as long as there were sufficient commitment of will and resources. In fact, you can already see the prototypes of these space habitats in the world around us. Look at something as commonplace as the shopping mall or the cruise ship. These self-contained habitats support thousands of inhabitants in a controlled atmosphere. It almost seems that without even being consciously aware of it, we have been for many decades developing just the technological know how we will need to build large scale space colonies.”
He paused and altered the tone of his voice. “Some people will look at the moon and see nothing but an airless desert. But others will see the raw materials with which a whole new civilization can be built.” He stopped and gave me a searching look and asked softly, “Which moon do you see, John?”
“Uh..?” He had again caught me off guard.
“When you look at the moon, what do you see?” he asked again. “Do you see a wasteland or a realm of unlimited potential for human development?”
A response came sluggishly. I had been satisfied a moment earlier with dreamily soaking up the professor’s impassioned lecture. I wasn't prepared to be called on to participate. In truth, I did see the moon as a wasteland. I could also see that in some distant future perhaps people might build colonies up there, but such a thought seemed so remote as to be irrelevant. But I knew that wasn’t the answer the professor wanted to hear.
“Professor Donnelly, I…I think the moon is a fascinating celestial object and studying it up close with robots and someday with humans may very well help scientists unlock the secrets of the solar system.”
He stared at me blankly for a moment or two, than let out a huge laugh, followed by a coughing fit, as if he finally got the punch line to a joke I just told. Still laughing, “That’s the biggest bunch of horseshit I ever heard. Forgive my French. I’m not sure what you just said has to do with my question, but it sure sounds like a good way to avoid giving me a straight answer. You should do well in politics, I suspect.” He gave me a warm smile to let me know he was only kidding with me and not to take him seriously.
I was still flustered, and before I could formulate a response he said, “Never mind, John. Just take that question as something to ponder.”
Taking the opportunity to bring clarity to the subject, I offered, “So, from your point of view, it is the prospect for human settlement of space that excites you most about the space program?”
“Yes…but, I want to be clear that I am not fixated on the particular structure of a colony that we might build on the moon or Mars or in free orbiting space. What I am most interested in is the quality of life for the settlers, wherever they make their homes. I’ve always seen space colonization as an opportunity to restart civilization with a clean slate. That includes the full range of social interaction, but perhaps the most interesting is in the area of governance. Colonists will have an opportunity to adopt only those parts of our democratic systems that work, and do away with the less functional parts. Each new colony will be like the birth of a new continent—a new America—with renewed opportunity to start all over -- to refine and improve governance. Eventually, we can hope, the governing structure will evolve to the point that it is so interwoven with the tapestry of the space settlement society that it ceases to even be noticeable.
“What this means for us down here is that we will benefit from lessons learned by our space settler brothers and sisters. We will adopt their ways, just as much of the world adopted the ways of democracy established by our Founding Fathers. Jefferson and Adams are good models for our future space colonists. They seized the chance to take a fresh look at governance, and out of a sincere desire for freedom and ensuring individual rights, they created a remarkable form of government.
“Our government has served us well over the years, hasn’t it? And we will likely go many more decades and even centuries with the Constitution remaining largely intact. But let’s be honest. Our democracy is showing signs of wear and tear after over two hundred years. If we could start from scratch again today, would we come up with the same system? Probably not. The Constitution, as brilliant as it is, was written by men in the eighteenth century. We are approaching the twenty-first century. We can’t pretend to say that what was important and essential to the people in 1776 is just as important for people today, and especially not for tomorrow’s generations. So that’s where our new colonists come in. They will reconsider anew what it means to govern a free and open society that encourages and brings out the best contributions from each of its members. If we’re lucky, the new ideas of social engagement will make their way back to Earth for the benefit of the entire human family.
He paused and smiled at me as if to give me an opportunity to ask questions. As intrigued as I was, I had nothing to say.
“Let’s just say I think it’s much more exciting to conceive a future for humanity that is expanding out into the limitless regions of the universe, than a future where life remains here on Earth. Doing so is who we are. It is an extension of the settler nature that has always been part of our collective psychology. You see?” He looked at me again with raised eyebrows. I nodded.
At that moment I noticed a pair of undergraduates loitering outside of the professor's office. When I turned back to him he gave me that you-know-how-it-is look again.
As he signaled the students to wait a moment longer, I said, “Well, I think I’ve gotten quite a bit of useful information from our talk. You’ve been a great help.”
“Thank you for giving me the chance to indulge in a favorite topic of conversation. I truly do hope I have given you something you can use. If Congress is planning to look at space settlements again, I would be more than ready to assist.”
I detected a visible slumping in demeanor as he brusquely ushered the undergrads into his office.
As I was leaving, something familiar caught my eye. Partially covered by papers, I spotted a simple wooden plaque lying flat on the window sill. Could it have been a copy of the one in Mr. Grant’s office? I turned to ask Professor Donnelly if I might have a look. But he was already in conversation with his students, and I decided against it.
As I stepped out the door, he called to me. “And, John, don’t forget. Tell Congressman Grant that we discussed the Settler Endowment.”
***
The following Monday, I got word from Cheryl Gordon that Mr. Grant had agreed to speak at the climate change conference in Arizona. This bit of news created a perfect opportunity to reach out to Tara and attempt to make things right after the Saturday night fiasco. I had left her two voice messages and gotten no reply. I assumed the worst. It was over between us. But I wanted to hear from her, and not draw that conclusion from her silence. Rather than call her about Mr. Grant’s decision, I decided to catch up with her that afternoon at the HUD-IA committee hearing that I knew she’d be going to.
I spotted her in the third row of the hearing room. The Administrator of the Environmental Protection Agency was giving testimony before the sparsely represented committee. Just five committee members had bothered to show up. Not unusual, but certainly a little embarrassing for both the Members in attendance and the Administrator.
I took a seat three chairs away from her. When she saw me she gave a quick shake of her head and with pursed lips looked straight ahead. I passed her a note, which she reluctantly took. “I have news about the climate conference invite,” the note said. She let out a sigh and looked at me.
I followed her into the hallway during a break. She allowed me to approach.
“Good news,” I said. “Mr. Grant can make the conference.”
She looked to the side with arms crossed. “Great. The conference committee will be glad to hear that.”
“And about Saturday. I really feel awful. Can’t we rewind? I thought things were going pretty well.” I put my hand on her arm and she looked at me, and relaxed her posture a little.
Before responding, she pulled me away from potential eavesdroppers. Very close she said, “It’s not just about the party and pushing Kyle. Different things are important to us. I thought we could make it work, but it just didn’t. Not for me at least. And there’s nothing wrong in that. There’s nothing that says we have to date.”
“There’s nothing that says we can’t, either. We can make it work if we want to.” I knew there was too much desperation in my voice.
“But, this whole space station thing you’re into. It’s just too far away from what I’m all about…”
“So what? We can disagree on issues and still be together.” I stepped closer, unconcerned about stares we were started to attract. “The question is not about the space station? The question is do you want to be with me?”
Our eyes locked for a few moments of silent communication. Her features softened further, a flush came to her cheek, and a tear formed in her eye. “I…I don’t know…I can’t think about this now.” She broke away, wiping her face, and followed the crowd that was moving back into the hearing room.
It was hard to tell if that was tear of longing or thepain of suffering I represented.
***
I didn’t really have much time to think about failed relationships, and I welcomed the deadlines that dampened my feeling of being a fool for wanting Tara so much. At the top of my list were two speeches I had to write: the floor speech Mr. Grant would give to the Weinstein amendment, and a climate change speech for the World Conservancy Alliance.
Also not far from the front of my mind were the words of Chip Johnson and Professor Donnelly and the mystery of the Six Endowments and the Obligation. Thinking on this puzzle was the only distraction from work I allowed myself. Could I see the moon as a place for a space colony—or even Mars, as the professor had asked? What did he mean by the note he wrote in my copy of his book, “Look closely and you will find the purpose in humankind’s desire for space?” I wondered what it was all about. Why was Mr. Grant even interested in such things? I looked forward to talking with Mr. Grant about Professor Donnelly and find out who else I would interview. Who would represent the next Endowment?
Organizing my workload, I decided to focus on the Weinstein speech first. The House floor vote on the HUD-IA bill was just three weeks away, and I wanted to prepare as complete a draft as soon as possible to have plenty of time to address any revision Mr. Grant might want to make. After several days of research and consulting with NASA, aerospace contractors, advocacy groups and other sources, my desk was a pile of reference materials and a note-filled memo pad. Finally sitting down to write the first draft, I struggled with how to include some of what Chip and Donnelly had told me, which didn’t fit easily into the policy arguments. Ultimately, I included just a smattering of their insights and, after a long evening at my computer, I was satisfied that the document strongly represented Mr. Grant’s political view on the amendment. At least I thought so. The floor speech began:
“Mr. Chairman, I rise in strong opposition to the Amendment offered by the gentleman from New York, Mr. Weinstein, that proposes to cancel the space station program. First, let me say emphatically, I respect the views and position of my colleagues who support this measure. I align myself wholeheartedly with the spirit and intent of the goals this amendment aspires to achieve. I too believe that additional funding should be made available for the other worthy programs to which space station budget could be put. However, I must state without hesitation that now is not the time to turn our back on human spaceflight capability. Since the first flight of Alan Shepard, the first American to pierce the atmospheric veil and touch the heavens, human spaceflight has been part of the fabric of our democracy, and this capability that has been, and continues to be, a source of awe and envy to every other nation on the planet. To shrink from the space station program, the next logical step in space, would send a clear and dangerous signal to international partners and competitors alike that the United States is no longer serious about human space exploration.
In my humble opinion, there are three paramount reasons why we cannot afford as a nation to turn away from the space station: technological competitiveness, national defense and international prestige…”
The remainder of the speech gave supporting data for each of the three reasons. I knew the statement was sound from a conservative political standpoint. Yet, the whole time I was writing, I kept asking myself, ”Where does the Obligation fit into this debate?”
***
Several days had passed before I would find the opportunity to discuss with Mr. Grant my lunch meeting with Professor Donnelly. I had completed the draft speech and placed it on his desk earlier in the day, and thankfully Tara Bingham was nearly out of my head. It was after 6:30 PM. Most of the other staffers had left for the day, and I could hear Mr. Grant rustling in his office.
With one hand leaning on his office door frame, I intruded, “Mr. Grant. I don’t want to disturb you, but I’ve been hoping to speak with you about… Professor Donnelly at some point.”
His stern face softened as the purpose of my interruption became apparent.
“Yes, John. Yes. I’m glad you’ve finally got around to mentioning that. Come in, let’s talk a little. Tell me, what did he have to say?” There was an eagerness again in his voice.
As before, Mr. Grant did not interrupt and waited a few beats before commenting once I had finished, “Well, what Endowment did he represent to you?”
“He was quite clear on that point. The Settler Endowment.”
“That’s right, of course, the Settler Endowment.” He expanded, “Like the Wanderer, the Settler is not far from the primal instinct of nesting that protects animals against the elements and predators. The Settler Endowment that emerged in human consciousness enabled the long march from huddling cave dwellers to the mega civilization we are today. Simply put, it is the urge to not only create a settlement wherever new and desirable real estate has been discovered by the Wanderer; it is also the desire to employ the most advanced resources and knowledge to create those settlements.”
“I didn’t expect Professor Donnelly to talk about space colonies, but once he did I was surprised he didn’t speak of colonization as being an obligation. Is the Settler Endowment the key to understanding why space colonization is humanity’s obligation?” I hoped I could jump to the heart of the matter.
“The Settler Endowment is actually no more or less relevant to the Obligation than any other Endowment. Good question, but once again, you’re getting ahead of yourself. You still have four Endowments to go. The next contact is Dr. Judith Falk, a research scientist at JPL, the Jet Propulsion Laboratory.”
“Isn’t that in Pasadena? Is she in Washington?”
“I’m afraid I’m not sure if she is or not, but I don’t think so.”
“Then how am I going to meet her if she’s on the west coast?”
“Hmm, that will be difficult. But, remember, it is essential that you meet face-to-face with these individuals, otherwise you lose more than half the value.”
While I puzzled on his response, he added, “Oh, by the way. Good speech on the Weinstein amendment. Nice and safe.” I offered a weak smile of appreciation, not certain Mr. Grant had in fact paid me a compliment.
“And, when will you have the World Conservancy Alliance speech for me? Isn’t that just a little over a week away?” I winced. I was terribly behind on my draft of that speech. My tenuous situation with Tara hung over the project as a major disincentive. I gave a weak assurance that he would have it within a day or so.
I barely had time to ponder how I might ever interview Dr. Falk when events conspired to resolve the dilemma.
The day after my talk with Mr. Grant, Cheryl Gordon informed me of his decision to send me to the district office in southern California. As it happened, the chief of staff, Tom Rogers, was forced to cancel a planned trip to the district at the last minute. Rather than pay the airline penalties for canceling the flight, Mr. Grant thought it would be a great idea if I went in his place and got to know how things worked at the local level. I quickly made the connection that the Jet Propulsion Laboratory and Dr. Falk were an easy drive from the district office.
As fortuitous as this turn of events was, I couldn’t help raising objections that my workload could not bear my being away for any length of time. Tom Rogers was unmoved, and explained that “...There is never a convenient time to visit the district. The piles of work are always going to be there no matter what. You have to take the opportunities when they arise and keep on top of your work as best you can.”
Inwardly I was energized by what lay ahead for me on the west coast. Nonetheless, that meant I had less than two days to prepare for a week-long trip. I was glad to have completed a draft of the Weinstein amendment speech, but worried about getting back with enough time before floor action on the amendment, expected in less than two weeks.
Even more pressing was the speech Mr. Grant was to give in just one week at the WCA global climate change conference in Tucson. I had already gathered some information, and worked on an outline, but to do justice to the piece, I knew I would need to speak with Tara Bingham about the details of the meeting and the audience. With a knot in my stomach I called her intending to keep it as brief and professional as possible. But instead of being cool, Tara was surprisingly eager to talk and insisted that we meet later in the day. I resisted the invitation, but was excited about seeing her despite some apprehension.
***
We met for a beer at Bullfeathers on First Street. The conversation started out well. Almost too well. Tara apologized for perhaps overreacting about the scuffle on the night of the party. She told me Kyle had explained to her that his falling to the floor had more to do with a wet spot and not as much to do with my pushing him. I insisted it was still all my fault. Though we might have succeeded in neatly getting our apologies out of way, the distance that remained between us was obvious. I assumed we just needed a little time to get used to each other again.
We came to a pause in the apologizing session and the air became thick. Finally, I said, “So, tell me more about this climate change conference.”
She smiled as she exhaled, “Yes, the conference! We need to talk about that. Will you be traveling with your boss by the way?”
“No, unfortunately. But, it turns out I will be in California putting in some time in the district office. I leave the day after tomorrow, in fact.”
“Well, if you can get down to Tucson it would be great to see you there.” It was a courteous reply empty of any desire. At this point, I couldn’t tell why she wanted to meet. She was not giving off any romantic cues. We could have handled the conference details on the phone.
Clearing her throat she continued. “What can I tell you about the conference? There’ll be three to four hundred people attending, mostly from the U.S. with some international participation. Mr. Grant has twenty minutes with another fifteen or twenty for Q&A. Perhaps he can give an overview of potential for legislative action on climate change, and offer suggestions on how advocates can influence the progress of that legislation. That would be a good place to start.”
“And what about the Weinstein amendment? Can he expect any questions on that?”
“The amendment will be on everyone’s mind, for sure. Mr. Grant may want to speak to it in his remarks, though in general, the amendment is peripheral to the main topic. Either way, he certainly should be prepared to respond if asked.” Then she hesitated before adding, “And I should also mention, John,” she said, touching my arm, “There are a few scientists who plan to use the opportunity of the conference to seek to change Mr. Grant’s position on Weinstein. I told them it was a long shot, but they plan to buttonhole him just the same.”
“I imagine Mr. Grant considered all that before deciding to do the speech.”
“But… there is still a possibility that he’ll change his mind, isn’t there?” I gave her a questioning look. She elaborated. “I mean, his position isn’t final until the day of the vote. You said yourself that he is feeling pressure from all sides. Isn’t it possible he’ll change his vote?”
A cold feeling went through me. “Sure, it’s possible, but I haven’t seen anything at this point that would change his mind.”
“I don’t have to tell you how great it would be if you could help convince Mr. Grant to support the Weinstein amendment.” Though the suggestion came out casually enough, I instantly recognized the calculation in it.
“Mr. Grant is an important swing vote,” she continued. “With the right encouragement we feel he might reconsider his position.” Coming out of my amorous fog, her true intentions were finally starting to register with me. She must have misread my reaction, because she continued to press the subject.
“We realize that you alone couldn’t change his mind, but your involvement could help as part of a coordinated effort.” She paused and looked at me directly, “John, I know from our time together that you have strong feelings about environmental issues.” The sensation of Tara’s clumsy attempt at manipulation filled me with anger and embarrassment.
“Kyle says we have a good chance of winning the House vote if Grant and a few others come over to our side. I just need to ask you straight out if there is any way you could work with us on this.”
My emotions were spiking. Before I could say anything, Tara reached across the table and put her hand on mine. I let her touch me, but every fiber wanted to recoil.
“Tara, this is really out of left field. You know how I feel.” I could see stress lines appear on her face. “I...I may have different ideas than Mr. Grant, and I might try to express those ideas once in a while. But, the bottom line is I work for him. It’s my job to help him put his agenda forward. Not my own, and certainly not yours… or Kyle’s.” Her eyes widened slightly.
“If all you intended to do tonight was try to convince me to persuade Mr. Grant to vote for the amendment, then I’m sorry you’ve wasted your time. I had this stupid idea that we could get back to where we started. I’m sorry for being such an idiot.” As I was speaking I could see in her face the anguish of realizing she had made a terrible mistake.
“No, you’re taking this the wrong way.” I could hear the pleading regret in her voice, but it didn’t matter. All of my longing for her and frustration came to a head and I suddenly wanted nothing more to do with her.
I stood up without responding.
“John. Wait.”
I dropped a twenty on the table and left.
***
I was over her. Just as well. Realizing there was nothing left with Tara was surprisingly liberating. I was free to focus on preparation for the district trip. There was work I needed to complete, not the least the climate change speech, the one thread that still connected me to her. But, I could go about all of this activity without the gnawing preoccupation of my future with or without her.
Fortunately, that climate change speech would be easier than the Weinstein speech. With Tom Rogers’ help I found a similar speech Mr. Grant had given just prior to my joining the staff, providing me a template from which I could generously crib. Though easier, I knew I wouldn’t finish the draft until after my arrival in California.
Scheduling a meeting with Judith Falk at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory proved more of a problem than I expected. She could only be available on the day after my arrival in California. That was perfectly fine with me until the district manager, Dotty Rodriquez, took issue with the timing. I had called Dotty to go over my itinerary during my time in the west coast office. When I mentioned my plans to visit JPL, she made it clear that this “side trip” was not appreciated. Not expecting such an objection, I struggled for a convincing answer when she wanted to know the purpose of the visit. I improvised a story that Mr. Grant wanted me to get some first-hand knowledge of the JPL research so I would be better able to manage his space policy agenda. This only seemed to spark more displeasure. My visiting JPL, I would discover later, apparently fed the stereotype that Washington staffers were interested only in policy issues and politics and couldn’t care less about the needs and concerns of the constituents who put Mr. Grant in office. I was certainly not getting off on the right foot with my west coast coworkers.
***
It was on the plane trip that another vision or dream came to me. I worked on the climate change speech for most of the cross country ride, but did take time to gaze out the window and admire the scene from thirty thousand feet. I was reminded vividly of my recurring dream of orbiting the globe. Immersed in the view of the cloud dotted panorama, the sun reflected brilliantly off of lakes and rivers. I began to feel a calm sensation sweep through me, one not unlike that I had experienced on that first day of meditation with Tara. It was a deeply relaxing place. I took in the whole of the globe below me. At some point I lost sensation of my body, and even of the plane around me. I was above the clouds, naked and free. The ground receded even further, and I entered the vision of my dream once again. The world below me pulsated with light, and in the intensity of the moment, I saw the world as a single living being. This realization flooded me with awe. I recalled Chip Johnson's experience of seeing the whole Earth from space. He had called it the Overview Effect. That’s what I must have experienced, or at least a version of it.
Eventually, I came back to regular awareness, the plane and my speech notes. I collected myself and asked for glass of water from the flight attendant and resumed work on the climate change speech.
***
The flight landed at Ontario International Airport. I picked up a Ford Taurus rental and drove straight to the district office, a simple storefront on a quiet commercial strip. Everyone was friendly, though the conversations became awkward whenever the subject of my JPL trip came up. “That’s too bad. You just got here, and there’s so much we want to show you.”
Concern for inter-office courtesies dwindled to vapor the next morning on my drive to Pasadena as my anticipation in meeting with Dr. Falk grew with each mile. She met me at JPL’s main entrance. She was a short woman, barely over five feet. Her hair was snow white, though her features gave her age to be no older than mid-fifties. She talked fast, and she made no attempt to modify her pronounced New York accent.
Her demeanor was friendly but curt with a tinge of sarcasm. “So Harry sent you all the way from Washington. He must think you’re something.”
She gave me a brief tour of the facility, starting with the mock-ups of deep space probes on display in the entrance hall, including the historic Voyager spacecraft and Lunar Prospector. We walked through some of the labs where space hardware was under construction or being tested. The scientists we met were eager to talk about their research. She took me to an area where large windows allowed viewing of the clean rooms. Scientists and technicians in white hooded sterile suits talked to us about the projects through microphones. Dr. Falk’s explanation for everything she showed me was thorough and deadpan. She responded to my frequent amazed reactions and questions with what seemed to be indifference, although I soon detected a strong sense of pride beneath her tough exterior.
We finally settled in the JPL cafeteria. Her office, she explained, was no place for a meeting as it was a clutter of paper reports and hardware, which didn’t matter anyway because she spent so little time there these days. This was a slight disappointment as I had hoped I might spy another copy of the plaque.
The cafeteria was plain and functional. Forgetting my manners, I let my hunger get the best of me and loaded my tray with pasta, deli hero, coleslaw and a large chocolate brownie for desert. When I saw Dr. Falk’s small salad and roll, I felt a glutton and wished I had at least skipped the brownie.
We took a table near a window in the back of the room. We spoke for a few minutes about the Galileo space probe mission to Jupiter that she was involved with, but soon Dr. Falk steered to the conversation to the purpose of my visit.
“I’m supposed to tell you about the Inventor, aren’t I?” she declared.
“Inventor? No… as I said, you are one of the people Mr. Grant asked me to interview about what motivates humanity to venture into space.”
“And, so far you’ve spoken to Chip and Donnelly. The Wanderer and the Settler Endowments. Is that right?”
“Well, yes. Those are terms they used…”
“And now I’m to tell you about the Inventor Endowment.”
“The Inventor Endowment?”
Dr. Falk was not someone who suffered fools well. “I don’t know how much Harry has told you so far, but it seems he expects me to give you the point of view of the Inventor.”
“Well, yes. Mr. Grant is having me find out about the… Endowments. But he wants me to decipher the nature of each Endowment as they are represented by the people I am interviewing.” As I spoke her smile and clear amusement grew to the point of outright laughter. “I have to say, I feel a bit foolish sharing this with you. I know it sounds…eccentric, so I’ll understand if…”
Through her laughter, “No, no, John. This is fine. It’s just like Harry to do it this way.”
“What do you mean by ‘do it this way’?”
“Okay, I’ll give you a little clue, and then I’ll say no more about it. Mr. Grant is sharing with you some knowledge of which very few people are presently aware. He has chosen you, and you apparently are willing, to share this knowledge with in a manner that will allow you to most effectively grasp its meaning. I imagine this all started when you asked about the plaque?”
“Yes, but he swore me not to mention the plaque or its message with you or the others I’m speaking with. But, since you bring it up, perhaps you can tell me…”
“I will say nothing about the plaque,” she announced with finality. “But I will discuss the Inventor Endowment. And I suppose we can begin with your basic question. I can tell you simply I am passionate about space because of the challenges that it poses for invention.
“I am certainly interested and excited about exploration and settlement—the preoccupation of the Wanderer and the Settler. The Inventor excites me because he makes things easier for the Wanderer and the Settler. The Inventor is the one who creates the tools that will assist both the Wanderer and the Settler in their efforts. A wheel for the Wanderer; a hammer for the Settler. With each generation since the advent of the Inventor Endowment, Inventors have improved on prior inventions. Sometimes in an incremental way. Sometimes taking great leaps. But always solving problems in a way that’s never been done before. Sometimes technologies are lost to time, but many have remained and are with us today.
“The ability to invent or, more simply, problem solve, is of course what sets us apart from the animal kingdom. The Wanderer is actually just a short leap from the tendency to spread out geographically that we see everywhere in nature. A little overcrowding is all that is needed. In a similar fashion, the Settler trait is not much of an evolutionary change from the nesting habits found in nature.
“But, the Inventor,…” she used a big voice for emphasis, “The Inventor represents a big leap in consciousness for humankind. Once we gained the Inventor Endowment, our species took off and never looked back.”
From the pocket of the light jacket she wore, she produced a small wooden box.
“Here, look at this,” she placed the box on the table, and opened it. Inside, sitting on a bed of velvet cloth, was an oblong jagged rock.
“This was given to me by an archaeologist friend at St. Mary’s. He discovered a load of artifacts like this at the site of one of the oldest known human settlements in Kenya dating back two-and-a-half million years. He would be in serious trouble if anyone knew he gave this to me.”
Only seeing a stone, I was forced to asked, “What is it?”
“It’s a simple cutting tool.”
She carefully handled the object without inviting me to hold it. At first glance there wasn’t much to the piece of rock. But on closer inspection, it was clear that a sharp edge had been chipped into the stone on both sides. I could image how this stone might have been attached to a wooden handle.
“Whenever I look at this it reminds me of the earliest inventors. The first problem solvers who asked themselves, ‘How can we more efficiently remove the meat from the bones of the animals we kill or find?’” She took another admiring look at the tool before returning it to the box and her coat pocket.
“At some point early in our development there evolved in our consciousness the capacity to be an Inventor. It is the Inventor who enabled everything we know ourselves to be beyond our purely animalistic qualities. Every manufactured object was first conceived by the Inventor. Without the Inventor Endowment there would be no human civilization. We would still be scavengers and crude hunters--if we survived at all.
“And without the Inventor,” she paused and bore her eyes deeper into mine, “there would most certainly be no space program.”
She held a pause before continuing. My first reaction was to think her statement an obvious one, but her emphasis forced me to wonder what more there was to it.
“What truly excites me is finding ways to answer the big scientific questions. The inventor, in the way I am talking about it, includes all of science and technology. Invention is about gaining a level of understanding about a problem or challenge combined with a deep knowledge of natural laws and applying that information to address a practical purpose. With space exploration, for example, the challenge is getting your instruments, or people, to the part of the solar system you want to study and making sure those instruments, or people, are working properly so they can collect the information you need in a form that you can dump into your computers so you can get some idea what is going on out there.” She pointed her eyes upward with that. “Experimental scientists have to be inventors if they are to create the instruments they need to find the answers they’re looking for.
“Fundamentally, the Inventor represents the human capacity to understand the nature of his physical world and with that understanding manipulates his environment in creative ways to suit his purposes – whatever those purposes may be.
“You could say that the Inventor is like the Wanderer, but he wanders the ‘inner’ spaces of his mind rather than the ‘outer’ spaces of geography. Internally, she wanders, searching for the new linkages in order to advance her understanding of the physical world, and solve the problems she has set for herself or were set for her by someone or something else.”
I dared to interject. “But, tying this back to your passion for space…?”
“Well, that’s simple. Space is the realm of the biggest unanswered questions. Those questions inspire deep scientific inquiry. Each answer, or partial answer, creates a set of more refined questions. To answer these questions in a scientifically rigorous fashion requires the inventions of appropriate instruments. Rocketry is a prime example. As I mentioned, just getting people and equipment where we want it to be requires extraordinary creativity. From a technological standpoint, the challenge of space is irresistible. Goddard, von Braun and others were driven to solve the puzzle of building a vehicle to carry people into space. Yet, there is so much we don’t yet know how to do in space. As amazing as our progress so far may appear, we have barely begun to develop our capability in space, both in terms of the vehicles we use to get there, and how we will manage our activities once we do reach the moon, Mars and other destinations. If we expect to eventually conduct lunar mining operations or Martian habitat construction, we are looking at a scale of invention that dwarfs anything we’ve done so far. But it’s the vision of such possibilities that captures the heart of the pure Inventor. Such intense desire can be found in other terrestrial endeavors, but nowhere is it stronger than it is in the space arena.
“Ultimately, the biggest technological challenges we will face as a global society will be out there, not down here. I don’t mean to minimize the importance of terrestrial sciences and technologies in the least. Obviously the leading edges of information and biotechnology research are posing enormous challenges and yielding enormous benefits. But, when comparing the full range of challenges that technologists can take on, the space studies stands alone, in my opinion.
“But, it’s important to understand that the true Inventor in any field is driven by uncontrollable curiosity, always asking ‘what if?’ ‘How can this be done better?’ ‘How does that work and can it be improved upon?’ Such people exist in all walks of life, and most people exhibit some of the Inventor trait from time to time. Inventors are in business, the trades, technology, of course, academia, the arts. My mother, for God’s sake, was a great Inventor.” She laughed unexpectedly at the sudden recognition. “She made a science out of stretching a teacher’s salary to care for five kids. She was quite an innovator of her domestic world. We had schedules for everything. Coupon clipping was a family activity. And she never made us feel that we lacked for anything. Whatever any of we kids really wanted, she applied her Inventor traits to figure out how to get it for us. My friends were always amazed by what she could do, and had no idea how meager our household income really was.”
Dr. Falk was so animated at that point that I wondered if the entire cafeteria might be listening to her exposition. But, a discreet glance around the room revealed no sign of eavesdropping.
“Now, let’s get back to space development in particular. On the surface, it’s easy to conclude that inventiveness with regard to rocketry and space travel is merely an extension of humankind’s age old capacity to invent. In a way, all of our inventions down through the millennia have all been in preparation for our taking on the challenges of making our way into space. Does that make sense to you?” I wasn’t really sure, but nodded anyway.
She continued, “So the Inventor is endlessly intrigued by, and drawn to, the challenge of conquering the high frontier,” as she exaggerated latter words with mock bravado.
“Many, many other fields draw on the Inventor in all disciplines, but space remains the Holy Grail for the Inventor. It beckons us like no other. Like the wings of Icarus, we desire to build that which enables us to ascend to the sun. We don’t care if we get burned. Therefore, where the Wanderer and Settler Endowments create the initial yearning for space travel and migration, ultimately, it is the Inventor Endowment that provides the means by which the physical world can be manipulated in such a way that makes space travel possible. The Inventor is, in effect, an evolved version of the Wanderer. Very different, but similar on a basic level.” At this she stopped and studied my face.
“Each of us has some amount of the Inventor in them. They also have some amount of each of the other Endowments. So, let me ask you,” she said, pointing a finger at me, “In what way have you exhibited the Inventor Endowment? It’s not a trick question. Think about it.”
“Let me see. I’m not sure. It’s an interesting question.” I stalled, hoping an idea would come to mind. “I can’t really think of anything. I’ve never been mechanically inclined…”
“Remember, the Inventor is the creative problem solver. Mechanical technology is just one place where it can be exhibited. Your experience might be creating a piece of art, or solving an interpersonal problem, or addressing a home repair project.”
Suddenly something came to me. “Well, I guess one thing comes to mind. It will sound dumb…”
“Ah, ah, ah. In science there are no dumb ideas,” she admonished.
I continued, “In grammar school…I went to Catholic school…I had to make a diorama depicting a scene from the story of the Exodus—the Moses story. I got it in my head that I wanted to dress my G.I. Joe doll as Moses, but realized it would never fit in a shoe box that was always used for dioramas. So I created a diorama from a much larger box to fit my nine-inch Moses. Instead of paper cutouts and glue, I used papier-mâché over a wire frame to make the mountain Moses walked down carrying the Ten Commandments. I created trees and shrubbery using sticks and leaves from my backyard…Is that what you mean?”
“That’s a great example! Had you ever seen anything like it before? No. Did you solve a problem? Yes. Did you combine seemingly unrelated knowledge to create something new and functional? Yes…You would do well to continue to emulate the person you were in Catholic grade school.”
She smiled at me for a moment before continuing, “So now you know essentially everything I have to say about the Inventor Endowment.” She looked at the thick watch on her wrist. “Well, it has been wonderful speaking with you, John. I hope you got what you needed. If it is all right with you, I have a two o’clock briefing I need to get to. Can I leave you here? You should have no problem getting back to your car.”
We shook hands, lingering with eyes locked. “Consider yourself fortunate, John,” she said. As I watched her quick stride carry her from sight, I thought about that grammar school project. I recalled the excitement I felt working on it, as well as the praise I received from my teachers and classmates for going so far beyond the scope of what the assignment required.
***
Several hours later, I was pondering what I had learned from Dr. Falk while manning the front desk of Mr. Grant’s district office. Dotty Rodriquez said answering the office phone was a good experience that would give me a solid overview of the rhythm of how things worked. She explained the proper way to answer and forward incoming calls, and then left me on my own. I was happy to get into the swing of the office, and demonstrate my eagerness to be part of the greater Congressman Harrison B. Grant team.
Between phone calls, I skimmed through a stack of pending case files and thought about the Endowments. There were three Endowments that I had so far learned about: the Wanderer, the Settler, and the Inventor. On face value, I didn’t see anything particularly special about these human traits. Yes, these were important dimensions of human consciousness, and certainly discussing them with such extraordinary people was thought provoking—inspiring even. But, where would understanding all the Endowments ultimately lead?
I also wondered when I would have the opportunity to discuss the meeting with Mr. Grant as I had with the others. I knew he was scheduled to fly into to California from Washington the next day, but I had no expectation that I would be able to spend time with him to discuss the Endowments.
This thought reminded me that I needed to complete the draft speech for the global climate change conference. I was nearly done. I had taken a copy on a floppy disk so I could finish it on the district office computer.
The phone rang.
“Good afternoon, Congressman Harrison Grant’s office. How may I help you today?” I answered with a bit more cheery eagerness than was necessary. I had joked with Dotty that the way she instructed me to answer the phone made me sound like an order taker at a fast food restaurant.
To my surprise, the caller asked for me.
“This is John,” I allowed my voice to drop a few octaves in the hope of projecting more authority. It vexed me that that the caller might think I was the receptionist.
“I see…I’m calling from Evan Phillips’ office at Starblazer Launch Systems. Mr. Phillips asked me to call to see if you may be able to meet him at our engine-test facility out in the Mojave Desert tomorrow morning.”
I was baffled. “Are you sure you were calling for me? I haven’t been in communication with Mr. Phillips or Starblazer.”
“Mr. Phillips said he had gotten word from Congressman Grant that you should be called in for a meeting. Mr. Phillips thought you would find it interesting to see the facility. Do you think you can make it tomorrow?”
It all became clear. Evan Phillips was my contact for the fourth Endowment, though I wished Mr. Grant had given me some warning. Phillips was a wealthy entrepreneur who intended to make his next fortune selling rockets that could put satellites into orbit. Starblazer would serve the small satellite market, under five hundred pounds, which Phillips saw as a very lucrative niche. I had read that Starblazer Launch Systems was conducting rocket engine tests. Though he had not actually launched anything yet, Phillips had managed to raise significant venture capital and collected enough letters of agreement from prospective customers to create a stir in the space industry.
“What time?”
“Six AM,” she said. “And, for Mr. Phillips’ information, John, what is your exact title?” I cringed that she would ask the question, but was more than happy to set the record straight.
News that I was off again on another outing predictably didn’t sit well with Dotty and the other staff. A rushed call to Mr. Grant, however, confirmed that it was his wish that I keep the appointment. I assured Dotty that, because of the early hour of the meeting, I would be back in the office well before noon.
It also meant I would have to complete the climate change speech before leaving the office that evening.
***
There was a letter for me in the afternoon mail. From Tara. This was a bit of a shock. I assumed it was information she thought would be helpful for the speech. Maybe some final argument why Mr. Grant should vote in favor of Weinstein. Taking the page out of the envelope, I saw that it was a handwritten note.
John,
I need to tell you how awful I feel about last night. I didn’t mean to use our friendship as a means to gain your help on Weinstein. I knew it conflicted with your professional responsibility. I didn’t even realize what I was saying, or how it came out. I actually thought (or convinced myself anyway) that you might want to help. I was wrong for even thinking that way.
I just want you to know I’m sorry, and I wish I could take it back.
I miss you,
Tara
I read the note two more times. “I miss you,” were the only words in the apology that meant anything to me. As angry as I was that night at Bullfeather’s, those three words opened a renewed possibility for love I embraced without hesitation.