(Shot of statue, held for some time, angle moving slowly. No narration. Assuming that emotional-projection notion—and I think we must—the timing here is such that I believe they first project what they seem to think a human female would feel, looking at it. I tried women on staff here. They focused more on phallic than female component, but were just as positive in reactions as males. ???? Anyhow, like I said, no narration. What follows, though out of parens, is my own reaction.)
It seems more a return than a venture.
The Woman waits, as she has waited ... always?... to greet her sons, welcome us ... home?... She sits in beauty, in peacefulness, perfect, complete, clean and fresh-colored ... new?... no, forever ... open, welcoming, yet so impervious ... warm and ... untouchable?... rather, untouched ... almost but never, forgotten Goddess ... Allmother, Woman of Earth ... enveloped, enveloping, in warmth and peace ...
One stands back a bit: this is the peace of loving insight, of unquesting womanhood, of great age and undying youth ... the peace of the past, of life that is passed, of that immortality that nothing mortal can ever achieve except through the frozen impression of living consciousness that we call art.
The young men are deeply moved and they make jokes. "Allmother," one hears them say, sarcastically, "Old White Goddess, whaddya know?"
Then they look up and are quiet under the smiling stone eyes. Even the ancient obscenely placed spaceship in her lap is not quite absurd, as it will seem in museum models—or tragic, as is the original overhead.
(Prof. Eel goes on to summarize the conclusions that seem obvious to him. Something is awfully wrong; that's obvious to me. How did they manage to build something so powerful out of total miscomprehension? What are we up against, anyhow? And, to get back to the matter of channels, what do you think this little story would do to Spaserve brass egos? Do you want to hold it top secret a while?)