“Lisbeth Weller, GrünWeisheit . It seems to me that your whole approach to these issues reflects a male, Western, reductionist, left-brained mode of thought.” Weller was a tall, sober-looking woman, who sounded genuinely saddened and perplexed. “How can you possibly reconcile this with your struggle as an African woman against cultural imperialism?”

Mosala said evenly, “I have no interest in surrendering the most powerful intellectual tools I possess, because of some quaint misconception that they’re the property of any particular group of people: male, Western, or otherwise. As I said, the history of science is one of convergence toward a shared understanding of the universe – and I’m not willing to be excluded from that convergence for any reason. And as for ‘left-brained modes of thought’, I’m afraid that’s a rather dated – and reductionist – concept. Personally, I use the whole organ.”

There was loud applause from the fans, but it sounded plaintive as it died out. The atmosphere in the room was changing: becoming strained, polarized. Weller, I knew, was a proud member of Mystical Renaissance – and although most journalists here would have no cult affiliation, the minority with strong anti-science sentiments could still make their presence felt.

“William Savimbi, Proteus Information. You speak approvingly of a convergence of ideas which has no respect for ancestral cultures – as if your own heritage were of no importance to you at all. Is it true that you received death threats from the Pan-African Cultural Defense Front, after you publicly stated that you didn’t consider yourself to be an African woman?” Proteus was the South African branch of a large Canadian family company; Savimbi was a solid, gray-haired man, who spoke with casual familiarity, as if he’d been covering Mosala for some time.

Mosala struggled visibly to contain her anger. She reached into a pocket and took out her notepad, and began typing on the keyboard.

Without pausing, she said, “Mr. Savimbi, if you find the technology of your profession too daunting, perhaps you should look for something less challenging. This is the quote, from the original Reuters story, filed in Stockholm on December 10th, 2053. And it’s only taken me fifteen seconds to find it.”

She held up the notepad, and her recorded voice said: “I don’t wake up every morning and say to myself: ‘I’m an African woman, how should this be reflected in my work?’ I don’t think that way at all. I wonder if anyone asked Dr. Wozniak how being European influenced his approach to polymer synthesis.”

There was more applause – from more of the audience, this time – but I sensed a growing predatory undercurrent. Mosala was becoming visibly agitated, and however sympathetic the pack were – in principle – I had no doubt that they’d be overjoyed if she was provoked into losing control.