Non-aligned countries were found mostly in the Middle East and North Africa , in nations that had slipped past both the industrial and dataflow revolutions.

By the beginning of the twenty-second century, many Earth governments forbade the untherapied to work in sensitive jobs, unless they qualified as high naturals — people who did not require therapy to meet new standards. And the definition of a sensitive job became more and more inclusive.

There were only rudimentary Lunar and Martian settlements then, with stringent requirements for settlers; no places for misfits to hide. The romance of settling Mars proved so attractive that organizers could be extremely selective, rejecting even the therapied in favor of high naturals. They made up the bulk of settlers.

All settlements in the young Triple accepted therapy; most rejected mandatory therapy, the new tyranny of Earth.

Alice and I gradually moved from the stuffy air of an exam to a looser conversation. Alice made the change so skillfully I hardly noticed.

I wondered what it had been like to live in a world of kinks and mental dust. I asked Alice how she visualized such a world.

“Very interesting, and far more dangerous,” she answered. “In a way there was greater variety in human nature. Unfortunately, much of the variety was ineffective or destructive.”

“Have you been therapied?” I asked.

She laughed. “Many times. It is a routine function of a thinker to undergo analysis and therapy. Have you?”

“Never,” I said. “I don’t seem to have any destructive kinks. May I ask you a question?”

“Certainly.”

I was beginning to feel at ease. If Alice found me inadequate, she wasn’t giving any signs. “If Earth is so fit and healthy, why are they putting so much pressure on Mars? Doesn’t therapy improve negotiating skills?”

“It allows better understanding of other individuals and organizations. But goals must still be established and judgments made.”

“Okay.” I felt the heat of argument rise in me. “Say we are both operating from the same set of facts, and I disagree with you.”

“Do we share the same goals?”

“No. Say our goals differ. Why can’t we pool our resources and compromise, or just leave each other alone?”

“That may be possible as long as the goals are not mutually exclusive.”

“Earth is pressuring Mars, and conflict is possible. That implies we’re involved in a game with only one winner, winner take all.”

“That is one possibility, a zero-sum game. Yet it is not the only type of game in which conflict may result.”

I sniffed dubiously. “I don’t understand,” I said, meaning, I don’t agree.

“Hypothetical situation allowed?”

“Go ahead.”

“I will model the Earth-Mars conflict without complex mathematics.”

“I have the feeling you’ve modeled this at a much higher level…”

“Yes,” Alice answered.

I laughed. “Then I’m outclassed.”

“I don’t mean to offend.”

“No,” I said. “I just wonder why I’m bothering to argue.”

“Because you are never satisfied with your present condition.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You must never cease from improving yourself. From my point of view, you are an ideal human partner in a discussion, because you never close me off. Others do.”

“Does Bithras close you off?”

“Never, though I have made him furious at times.”

“Then go on,” I said. If Bithras can take it, so can I.

Alice described in words and graphic projections an Earth rapidly approaching ninety percent agreement in spot plebiscites — the integration of most individual goals. Dataflow would give individuals equal access to key information. Humans would be redefined as units within a greater thinking organism, the individuals being at once integrated — reaching agreement rapidly on solutions to common problems — but autonomous, accepting diversity of opinion and outlook.

I wanted to ask What diversity? Everybody agrees! but Alice clearly had higher, mathematical definitions for which these words were mere approximations. The freedom to disagree would be strongly defended, on the grounds that even an integrated and informed society could make mistakes. However, rational people were more likely to choose direct and uncluttered pathways to solutions. My Martian outlook cried out in protest. “Sounds like beehive political oppression,” I said.

“Perhaps, but remember, we are modeling a dataflow culture. Diversity and autonomy within political unity.”

“Smaller governments respond to individuals more efficiently. If everybody is unified, and you disagree with the status quo, but can’t escape to another system of government — is that really freedom?”

“In the world-wide culture of Earth, dataflow allows even large governments to respond quickly to the wishes of individuals. Communication between the tiers of the organizations is nearly instantaneous, and constant.”

I said that seemed a bit optimistic.

“Still, plebiscites are rapid. Dataflow encourages humans to be informed and to discuss problems. Augmented by their own enhancements, which will soon be as powerful as thinkers, and by connections with even more advanced thinkers, every tier of the human organization acts as a massive processor for evaluating and determining world policy. Dataflow links individuals in parallel, so to speak. Eventually, human groups and thinkers could be so integrated as to be indistinguishable.

“At that point, such a society exceeds my modeling ability,” Alice concluded.

“Group mind,” I said sardonically. “I don’t want to be there when that happens.”

“It would be intriguing,” Alice said. “There would always remain the choice to simulate isolation as an individual.”

“But then you’d be lonely,” I said, with a sudden hitch in my voice. Perversely, I yearned for some sort of connection with agreement and certainty — to truly belong to a larger truth, a greater, unified effort. My Martian upbringing, my youth and personality, kept me isolated and in constant though not extreme emotional pain, with little sense of belonging. I deeply wished to belong to a just and higher cause, to have people — friends — who understood me. To not be lonely. In a few clumsy, halting sentences, I expressed this to Alice as if she were a confidant and not an examiner.

“You understand the urge,” Alice told me. “Possibly, being younger, you understand it better than Bithras.”

I shuddered. “Do you want to belong heart and soul to something greater, something significant?”

“No,” Alice said. “It is merely a curiosity to me.”

I laughed to relieve my embarrassment and tension. “But for people on Earth…”

“The wish to belong to something greater is an historical force, recognized, sometimes fought against, but regarded by many as inevitable.”

“Scary.”

“For Mars in its present condition, very scary,” Alice agreed. “Earth’s alliances disapprove of our ‘kinks,’ as you call them. They desire rational and efficient partners, of equal social stability, in an economically united Solar System.”

“So they put pressure on us, because we’re a rogue planet… You don’t think Martians want to belong to something greater?”

“Many Martians place a high premium on their privacy and individuality,” Alice said.

“Frontier philosophy?” I asked.

“Mars is remarkably urbanized. Individuals are tightly knit into economic groups across the planet. This does not much resemble families or individuals isolated on a frontier.”

“Have you and Bithras discussed Earth’s goals?”

“That is for him to tell you.”

“All right,” I said. “Then I’ll tell you what I think, all right?”

Alice nodded.

“I think Earth has some greater plan, and autonomy of any part of the Triple stands in their way. Eventually, they’ll want to tame and control Mars as they’ve already done with the Moon. And then they’ll work on the Belters, the asteroids and space settlements… bring us all into the fold, until their central authority controls all the resources in the Solar System.”