The reconnaissance had given him a good feel for the city, and he’d been impressed with what he saw, its wealth, neatness, and style. He’d been on a few Commonwealth worlds now, enough that he wasn’t completely intimidated by urban areas that covered hundreds of square kilometers. But this particular part of Los Angeles had threatened to undo all that acclimatization. He hadn’t been prepared for how shiny and clean it all was; after all, most of the cities on the new worlds had large districts that were crumbling into ghetto status. Here, where age had every chance to pour entropy and decay into entire neighborhoods, the residents had resisted. Money helped, of course, and there was plenty of it residing among the condos fronting Ocean Avenue and the exclusive houses between San Vicenti Boulevard and Montana Avenue, but there was more to it than that. It was as if Santa Monica had discovered how to continually rejuvenate itself just like the humans who built and lived in it. For all its age, it had a buoyant vivacious atmosphere, making it a fun and friendly place to be. Surprisingly, Kazimir thought he might actually be able to live here—if he was forced to live anywhere on Earth, that is.
Big city-owned tractorbots were slowly grinding their way along the beach just above the water, fluffing up the dense sand and leveling it ready for the day. Cyclists, joggers, power walkers, ordinary walkers, dog walkers, skaters, pedcrawlers, and n-scoots were starting to appear on the path that wound along the back of the beach. Kazimir was getting used to Commonwealth citizens and their eternal quest for looks and fitness, but the highest concentration of obsessive personalities surely had to be on Earth. Everyone on the path was dressed in high-fashion sportswear, no matter what age, from mid-twenties up to approaching-rejuve-fifty. It was an effort for him not to smile at them as they sweated their way along, faces intent and frowning.
As he watched them idly, he realized how few young people were using the path. But then that was true of Earth in general. The number of children he’d seen here so far was very small.
One of the early morning walkers left the path and headed over the sand toward him. It was an exceptionally tall man in his thirties, with blond hair that under the Californian sunlight was almost pure white. In contrast his eyes were very dark, making his face stand out rather than appear classically attractive. He was wearing a simple white V-necked jersey, knee-length shorts, and midnight-black trainers.
“Kazimir McFoster, I presume?” He put his hand out. There was no hesitancy, no caution that he might have got the wrong person.
“Yes.” It took every piece of self-control for Kazimir not to stammer or gawp incredulously. “You’re Bradley Johansson?”
“Were you expecting someone else?”
“About half the cops on the planet.”
Bradley nodded appreciatively. “Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for giving me the chance. It’s still kind of hard to believe you’re real. Alive, I mean. I spent so many years learning what you’ve done for us, the stand you took, what it cost you.” He waved an arm at the city above the cliff. “It’s an outrage they don’t believe you.”
“Let’s walk,” Bradley said. “We ought to try and blend in.”
Kazimir wasn’t sure if he’d offended the great man. More likely he’d simply bored him. How many times must Bradley have heard something similar from stupid, awestruck youngsters? “Sure.”
“I always forget what a shock places like this are for people who grew up in the clans back on Far Away. How are you coping?” Bradley asked.
“Okay, I guess. I’m very conscious of trying to appear blasé about everything.”
“That’s good. When you stop making the effort you’ll be taking it all in your stride, everything balances out. So now that you’ve seen the Commonwealth, or some of it, what do you think? Are we right trying to save it?”
“Even if it wasn’t worth saving, we are. People, I mean. Human beings, our race.”
Bradley smiled out across the ocean, taking a deep breath of the fresh breeze. “Right or wrong.” He shrugged. “Sorry, that’s a misquote from before your time. Before mine, too, actually. So you think it is worth saving, then?”
“Yes. It’s not perfect. I think they could have done a lot better with all the knowledge and resources they have at their disposal. So many things are hard for people, when they don’t need to be.”
“Ah, an idealist.” Bradley laughed softly. “Try not to let Adam corrupt you too much about what shape society should take when we’re victorious. He’s a disgraceful old revolutionary rogue. Very helpful, though.”
“What does he do?”
“You’ll find out when you meet him. He’s going to take over from Stig now.”
Kazimir stopped; they were still three hundred meters from the pier. People were wandering down onto the beach from the bridge road that connected it with the land. A whole section just in front of him had been roped off; a city lifeguard stood by the entrance gate. There was nobody inside it.
“Do you know who that’s for?” Bradley asked.
“No.”
“It’s for children, so they can enjoy the beach together without having to share it with a whole bunch of adults hanging around spoiling it for them. They’re getting to be a rare commodity on Earth these days. At least for the middle classes; who can’t really afford to have them anymore. Though they still do, of course, that’s human nature for you. It never ceases to amaze me what we’ll go through, the sacrifices we’ll make, so our kids can enjoy their childhood. That’s the one part of life which our technology can never reproduce; yet after porn it’s the most popular TSI genre. I guess none of us really forget the wonder and joy which that innocence brought us. Psychologists always say we crave the sanctuary of the womb—bunch of overeducated idiots, if you ask me. This is what we actually want. Times when every day is fresh and exciting, and the only worry is if the ice cream is going to last. It doesn’t understand that, you know?”
“The Starflyer?”
“Yes. For all its intelligence—and it is very clever, Kazimir—it cannot grasp this part of us. It has never understood how important our children are to us, the bond of love and adoration which exists between us. Partly because its life cycle doesn’t include offspring in our fashion, but mainly because it regards them with contempt. It believes they cannot affect it, therefore it ignores them. I seriously believe that could be its downfalclass="underline" our nature. The one thing it believes it controls because it does comprehend our greed and our fear. But we’re more than that, Kazimir, we are more complex than it thinks.”
“I’ll do whatever I can to help. You know that, sir.”
“I do. You’ve shown your loyalty to our cause many times.”
“You mentioned that this Adam person will take over from Stig. Does that mean I passed?”
Bradley turned back from the ocean to give Kazimir a broad urbane smile. “Passed? Passed what?”
“The test. Your approval, sir.”
Bradley draped a long arm around Kazimir’s shoulder, and urged him on around the back of the roped-off area. “Believe me, my dear boy, if I hadn’t approved of you, you’d still be standing on the beach wondering where the hell I’d got to. Or worse.”
Kazimir glanced around, seeing the flash of judgment in the old man’s eyes. It was more disturbing than any diatribe of threats and sneering.
“I need the strongest the clans can produce for the task ahead,” Bradley said. “You know that, don’t you, Kazimir? You will be asked to do many unpleasant things. If I deem it necessary, I will ask you to die so that we can grant Far Away its revenge.”
Despite the moist air blowing in off the ocean, Kazimir’s mouth was dry. “I know.”
Bradley’s hand squeezed strongly. “I don’t feel guilty. What I went through, everything I endured as that monster’s slave, left me with too much determination to feel that weak. Once this is over, I expect I will grieve for everything we have done, for the lives we have sacrificed. But it will be worth it, for we will be truly free again.”