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"They don't go on profession alone," he argued. "Sometimes psychological
profile's enough to get you in." Gabriella quieted him. They were announcing
the chosen.
Three people bought the GATE this time, Ortega informed his listeners. The
lucky ones were Sheila
Onlouyo of Nairobi, Kenya; Major Onapura, of Colombo, Sri Lanka; and Attali
Mataya of the Pacific
Confederation, Tongalevu.
A few groans of mock disappointment rose from the onlookers. The odds against
buying the GATE were enormous, though Charlie was right when he claimed anyone
could be picked. It was a lottery to end all lotteries, with a trip to
paradise as reward. Or to Eden and Garden, specifically.
Today it had gone pretty wide of the local mark. Not a single North American.
All Old Worlders except the last.
Ortega went on, giving the backgrounds of the fortunate trio. Two men, one
woman-the first an
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second a programmer, the third a biofisheries engineer.
"Just your average folks," Gabriella announced pointedly. "Sure, they pick
ordinary people. Sure they do."
Charlie struggled to regain the conversational high ground. "Look, don't tell
me you've forgotten about six months back when they picked mat bum off the
streets in Chicago?"
"What bum?"
"I remember that," said Adrienne brightly. "He was just a bum."
"Out of work?" asked Gabriella suspiciously.
"No, I remember that one, too," Eric volunteered. "He didn't seem to have any
special qualifications for off-world work. Hispanic, unmarried, not much
immediate family. They sent him off with two transport workers. Not an
advanced degree in the bunch."
"You see?" Charlie beamed triumphantly across at Gabriella. "Anyone can be
picked."
"Maybe so," she admitted reluctantly, "but it's damned unlikely. Maybe they
just do that to keep everybody's hopes up."
"That's not an unreasonable thought," Eric admitted.
"That's nuts, they have to hew to some standards," Charlie insisted. "There's
too much at stake."
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"There's a lot at stake in keeping us ordinary slobs convinced we have the
same chance of getting the pie in the sky as some guy with three degrees."
"Well... maybe. But I'm not holding my breath."
"Wouldn't it be wonderful, though," said Gabriella wistfully, leaning forward
and startling Eric by rubbing her knee against his. "Garden and Eden, the
paradise worlds. Where farmers get three crops a year, the scenery's so
beautiful it breaks your heart, and the weather is balmy all year round. No
dangerous animals, no pollutants to worry about, all the conveniences of
modern society shipped regularly through the GATE... and no taxes. I'd go in a
minute if I bought it." She gazed abruptly straight into Eric's eyes.
"What about you, Eric? Would you go?"
"I don't know," he said awkwardly, acutely conscious of the friction below the
table. "I guess so.
Everyone else does."
That much was true. The government didn't have to cajole. Hardly anyone
refused the GATE. Families were always kept together. In the 150 years of GATE
operation there'd been only two or three instances when someone selected had
refused the opportunity. Eccentrics. Everyone else went. Who wouldn't accept a
free trip to Eden if given the chance?
It was something for everyone to dream about. The lowliest of the low could
hope, for unimaginable psychological reasons, to be chosen. A poor man had the
same chance as a millionaire.
Sure he'd go, he told himself. Right now, though, there was promise of a more
immediate sort in
Gabriella's eyes and in the actions of her leg. It appeared he'd bought
something besides the GATE.
Halftime ceremonies concluded and the game resumed. The remote chance of
buying the GATE
vanished from the minds of those cheering and commenting on the action.
As the evening wore on Eric responded to Gabriella's game of footsie with
interest, if not with excessive enthusiasm. She was attractive enough, and as
Charlie claimed, she certainly seemed interested in him, but she was still a
bit aggressive for him. Time would tell.
The game stayed close. Much to everyone's delight Phoenix pulled it out in the
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