Tatenda Marechera was a bit surprised at the invitation he’d received. He’d been in New York already for negotiations with North America and latinoamerica over creating passport-free travel between there and Africa. The negotiations had gone smoothly; the only real hang-up was over extended-stay visas, and even there, they had the broad outlines down.

He shook his head. When he’d been accepted into the JTSA, the United Muslim Alliances didn’t even have full right of travel between them. Now the UMA, Africa, and South Asia were forming a free-travel zone, as were Europe, the CIS, and North America; and ASEAN, China-Mongolia-Tibet, Japan-Korea, and Oceania. Tatenda wondered if he should be the leader to say out loud what they all had been saying in private – that it was time to end passport controls entirely. Well, on Earth, anyhow – they would continue to impact travel to the Empire.

But he was getting ahead of himself. His car had finished its drive down FDR drive – a stunning ride along the sea wall that protected Manhattan from the East River – and had pulled him up to the lobby of World Tower. Soon enough, he had been escorted up to a condominium on the 89^th and penultimate floor, the residence of the Secretary-General.

“Helluva view, isn’t it?” said Jimmy Ridgemont, handing Tatenda a glass of orange juice. “You know, this building was built by one of America’s very worst presidents.”

“I thought he was a Republican?” Tatenda said, taking a sip. Jimmy laughed.

“Yeah, we gotta live with him and Nixon. Democrats own Jackson and Davidson though, so it evens out.”

“Are you boring the First Minister with presidential trivia, Jimmy?”

“Not at all, Madam Secretary-General,” said Tatenda, turning to greet the woman who’d just entered the room. “And believe me, Mr. Ridgemont, I can name several African leaders even worse than any of your leaders.”

“Leopold II was quite awful,” Elaine Ridgemont agreed.

“I was thinking of Amin, Mugabe, and Touré, but yes, Leopold was worse than almost anyone save Hitler. Any time I get concerned about the Empire, I remember how poorly we’ve done on our own.”

“True,” Elaine said. “Jimmy, thanks for talking with the First Minister while I finished my call.”

“That’s my cue to leave,” Jimmy said, with a smile. “Good to see you, First Minister.”

“And you, Mr. Ridgemont. So,” Tatenda said, as Jimmy Ridgemont left, “to what do I owe this invitation, Madam Secretary-General?”

Elaine sat down on the couch, and gestured to an adjacent love seat, which Tatenda took. “I am wondering if you are considering a run for my office in two years.”

Tatenda smiled. “Well, there are probably many people who are considering it. But then, they would have to defeat you, and you have earned quite a bit of respect for how you’ve handled the Empire.”

Ridgemont smiled. “I remember you threatening to move heaven and earth to bring my government down during the Video Crisis.”

“And I would have,” Tatenda said, “if you hadn’t let me in on the bluff.”

“I appreciated that,” Ridgemont said, looking at her glass. “More than you know. I was concerned…not about you. Or your allies. But in that moment, we needed to hold together. They needed to feel our anger. They needed to know we were serious. More than that…we needed to be able to be angry. We needed to be able to spit in their face without fearing what happened next. Not because they are evil, but because if we did not see ourselves as strong….”

“I understood why you did it,” Tatenda said. “Even when I opposed it, I understood why you did it. And as I’m sure you’ve heard from Ambassador Bass, Floor Leader Armac, and many others in the Empire…they did, too. I might have chosen a different way to go about it, were I in your shoes. But you are very right, we are an ally of the Empire, and they are an ally of ours. Allies may not be equal in strength, but we must be equal in value, or we are not allies at all.”

Ridgemont studied her glass for a long moment. “First Minister, you and I disagree on quite a bit, so what I’m going to say may surprise you. I am trying to pull together a coalition that crosses party lines. As broad as we can make it. I hope to bring in the communists if I can manage it. But to do so…I have to be honest with you about what we’re trying to do. The socialist bloc has been looking to break into government for a long time, and there is a way to spin what I’m about to say into a formidable weapon.”

Tatenda leaned back in his chair. “I…am not sure I follow.”

“When I told you what I was trying to do, with the vote on the treaty, you gave me time to do it. I’m asking you the same favor today, First Minister. And in exchange, I’m letting you in on a secret – I am not planning to run for re-election.”

Tatenda leaned forward, a bit. “That is…surprising news. Especially since I doubt you want a socialist to succeed you.”

“I am a democrat first. I’ll shake hands with the person who succeeds me. If Earth wants a socialist, I’ll disagree, but they’ll get a socialist. Hell, history has a way of making socialism into pragmatism – the United States has a tremendous social safety net, one of the best on Earth. My party has been happy to build it up over the last fifty years. But go back two hundred years, and I’d be called a socialist, not just by the Republicans, but the Democrats as well, because I think that a basic income is a human right. The more wealth we have, the more we should make sure that all of us live in comfort – I just happen to think that if the rich also stay rich, that’s okay. But you know how I feel about economics, I won’t bore you. Point is, I can think of Socialists who would run Earth fine. Same with Alliance folks, the Greens, the Conservatives, even a Communist or two. The nationalists, the hard-core religious parties, the really hard left – they’re trying to rebuild the world of the past. They’re doomed to failure. Those of us trying to build for the future – all of us are trying to get to the same place, more or less. It’s just a question of what road we take.”

“Well said,” Tatenda said. “And I can think of socialists who I would not want within fifty miles of leadership. Amadou Touré and I agree on quite a bit, and I would vote for Mohammed ibn Abdullah before I voted for him. So what is it you are proposing?”

Elaine smiled. “First Minister, I know you’re a good friend of Gen. Martínez.”

“Closer to brothers. But then, all of us who were on the Lem are.”

“Exactly. Ted Martínez is a good man, and he’s done a good job with the JTSF so far. Ted Martínez is also fifty. But he doesn’t look it. And he won’t for a very long time. And I am already hearing of rumbles of discontent from those who fear he will hold that job for the next fifty years, without breaking a sweat.”

Tatenda leaned back in his chair. “You’re talking about life extension.”

“It’s available on Avalon to anyone who’s willing to pay for it. I know why Martínez went and got it, he had to – he wanted to have a child. So far, the availability of it has been limited to people like Martínez, who were in the JTSA and had a reason to go out and get it, or people like the 2013 Abductees, who were already living in the Empire and got it voluntarily. But there is increasing travel to and from Avalon, and we are likely to accept a bid from an Imperial carrier to begin an Avalon-to-Earth run, at least until we can build up to having private carriers of our own. There will be a lot of wealthy businesspeople traveling there, who will have the opportunity to go through therapy while they’re meeting.”

“It’s outlawed, though,” Tatenda said. “I mean, Ted only was able to get it because he was married to an Imperial citizen, that’s the current law, on Earth and Avalon.”

“Are the laws followed to the letter in Africa? If so, can you tell me how you make that happen? Can you tell me how you keep a rich woman from bribing the right people to get around regulations? To keep a rich man from making connections to skirt the law?”

Tatenda nodded. “That is a fair point. But by the same token…if this is made legal, it will be only the wealthy who benefit. That is no better. At least we have hope of stopping them now.”

“We don’t have hope of stopping it,” Elaine said. “Atlantis is already putting together easy biokits for shipment to Earth. The costs are going to be about Ɏ13,000 per person, even with medical care. That’s not cheap, but Ɏ1.5 trillion to cover every person on Earth is more than outweighed by the increase in lifetime productivity. They will make the formal proposal soon, and it will be impossible to say no.”

“Why would we say….oh my,” Tatenda said, as it hit him. “The population.”

“We’ve stabilized. It took us almost 500 years, but we’re pretty stable at 11 billion or so. Birth rates and death rates are almost equal. But if we start spreading this around, Earth’s population will explode.” She sighed. “We’ve made it through the Water Wars, and we’re repairing the damage, bit by bit. But if there are twenty, thirty, forty billion of us…the conflict that could spark would make the Water Wars look like a small border skirmish.”

“But like you said, you can’t say no,” Tatenda said. “People won’t stand for it. You’re talking about tripling, quadrupling life expectancy. How do you deny people hundreds of years of life?”

“We can’t. Not forever. But we can do something to mitigate the damage. We will need resources, and we will need energy. We will need them to come back to Earth. Which means we will need colonies. Growing, expanding, vibrant colonies. As we are building them, we will need our military and exploration resources to grow rapidly, to defend ourselves from the bugs and to allow us to ship more and more materiel. That infrastructure should be built before Earth gets life extension. And that will take time. Ideally, we would take centuries. Realistically….I believe that we can make it two generations before the pressure gets unbearable.”

“You’re going to give life extension to colonists and the military,” Tatenda said.

“Yes,” Elaine replied. “It will be voluntary. But 97 percent of Avalonians chose life extension. Undoubtedly, it will be similar here.”

“Undoubtedly,” Tatenda said. “I assume there will be a commitment of time required?”

“Twenty years,” Elaine said. “A long time, but not if you’re getting two hundred back in return. There are many details to work out, of course. The treatment will be up front, but we don’t want colonists to never be able to return to Earth. So we are working on penalties and plans for that. They will also likely be time-based. I’m a capitalist, First Minister…but this is not something money should determine.”

“No, it should not. But it still could be. We may not be the poor siblings we once were, but Africa is not as wealthy as North America or Europe or China. And the Muslim Alliance is not as wealthy as we are. I do not want to see my people denied a longer life because they live in a less affluent region. But as we begin the work of colonization….”

“I agree, First Minister. That is going to be the part I’m going to fight with my party the most on, but Batari already tried to raise objections to this and I’ve shot her down. We’ve tried to make the JTSA look like Earth. We haven’t always been successful, but it’s been a goal, and I’m proud of how we’ve managed. The colonies need to look like Earth, too. And not just at the supranational level. I don’t want you giving Nigerians preferential treatment over Mandeans; the Canadians and Mexicans shouldn’t lag behind the Americans. This is about expanding humanity into the stars – and doing it somewhere we won’t be pets. We all have to hold hands and do it together.”

“That’s true of this policy in general,” Tatenda said. “If a party tried to go around this, promise free life-extension, right away, for everyone…it would boost them quite a bit.”

“It would. It would be good politically. It would not be good for Earth, or for the people of Earth, but that hasn’t stopped leaders from pushing ideas before. Look at how long they drug their feet over global warming. Saw it happening, but there were a lot of jobs in the oil fields, and change would be expensive. My country was one of the worst at that.”

“Not the only one. My country built its wealth on our oil fields,” Tatenda said.

“Right. We can’t repeat mistakes. Not here, not on the cusp of something so grand.”

“Well, it’s possible we will,” Tatenda said, “but I will support you, Madam Secretary-General. And I think Chairman Yu will agree.”

“Oh, he does. But he’s decided to retire at the next International. He told me to talk to you. He’s planning to ask you to succeed him, if he hasn’t already.”

“He…has, Madam Secretary-General,” Tatenda said. “But I haven’t decided yet. I’m not a politician, I’m a scientist.”

“You’re First Minister of Africa. At this point, you’re a politician. Accept it. Embrace it. You’re a good one. You’re one of the socialists that I wouldn’t mind as a successor. You won’t get my vote, mind you….”

“You didn’t get any of mine,” Tatenda laughed. “But like you said…policy isn’t the only thing. You’ve been a good Secretary-General, for a conservative. The only thing I don’t understand is why you’re planning to retire.”

“Well, someone is going to have to take the short-term hit for this. And I’m willing to take it. I don’t think history will be angry with me…and to be honest…I would like to get life-extended myself. And being an honest politician, that means I need to be a colonist. I know, I’m a bit old, but my understanding is that the treatment sets your clock back a bit…and if I’m miserable, then maybe I move back to Earth after fifty years away. And run to replace you.”

“I’ll be old by then,” Tatenda said.

“Not remotely. You flew on Matumaini I back in what, 2134? And you were commanding the Lem in 2156, I know that. That’s twenty years of exploratory service. You qualify for life extension, and under the draft legislation, so does Lesedi.”

Tatenda blinked. “I…do not need that to convince me.”

“I know,” Ridgemont said. “If you did, you wouldn’t be worthy of my time or your peoples’ trust. But you don’t. And you are.”

* * *

“How are you still awake?” Ryan said, stifling a yawn. “I’m barely managing.”

Alex grinned. “Your old man has an iron constitution, my boy. Also, azadafinil.”

“Bless you.”

“They haven’t given this to you guys yet?” Alex said, pulling out a small pillbox. “It’s a Terran eugeroic, guess it’s reasonably new. Guy from Nyandoro Pharmaceuticals shared it when he was through Atlantis. I hear they were talking about how to bring life-extension to Earth.”

“Oh, Zadafin! Sure, we used that at Tau Ceti. Don’t overdo it, though.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I only pull it out if I’m at an event like this, where I need to keep up with your mom. And I only ever take enough to get me, like, twelve more hours. I know, they say you can stay up a full Titan day with this, but….”

“Yeah, Dr. Babatunde warned us about it. You can’t hack yourself to a permanent Titan wakefullness schedule. You can pick up a nasty dependence on them though. That’s why I’m kinda surprised to see you with them.”

“Don’t worry, they’re prescription,” Alex said. “I wouldn’t take drugs that mess with my brain without checking with Nick first. And Nick wouldn’t prescribe ’em without talking to Thio first, and Brinn made sure to tell your mom I was taking them, and your mom has already warned me again, so long story short, I’ll be careful.”

Ryan shook his head. “Dad, if there’s one thing you won’t be, it’s careful. Doesn’t mean you’ll abuse Zadafin – you won’t, you’re smart. But you’ve never been careful.”

“No, I’m not. You get it from me,” Alex said. He was quiet a moment. “Ryan, did Thyllia ever tell you how worried I was about you?”

“Thyllia said you talked her down,” Ryan said. “But she didn’t have to. You all were worried. I knew when you only made like three Two-Face jokes….”

“Not after you were back,” Alex said. “Not after you were home. You were alive, and I trusted Brinn and Nick and everyone else to keep you alive. I didn’t know how well they could fix you, but if you were alive…if you were alive, it was okay. But before that, when I found out you were at Tau Ceti, when I didn’t know if you were going to survive, and when I was pretty sure you wouldn’t….”

Ryan pulled his dad in, and hugged him. “I’m sorry,” Ryan said. “I didn’t…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Alex said. “You got my recklessness and your mom’s bravery. Both your moms’ bravery. And I am so damn proud to be your father. I’m just…really glad I get to tell you how proud I am, and how much I love you. Because more than anything, I was afraid I wouldn’t. Too many people didn’t get to. But your dad is selfish, Ryan. And I’m glad I don’t have to know what that’s like.”

“You know, I’m still going out on the Prince Antero, dad….”

“Well, if something happens…I got to tell you this. And you have to go…it’s what you were meant to do. I was meant to be with your mom, you were meant to go charge off and defend the galaxy.”

“I’ll be careful,” Ryan said. Alex grinned.

“I just told you that you won’t be, son,” Alex said. “But you’ll do what you can to come back. You’re smart. Now, is Thyllia ready?”

Ryan sighed. “She isn’t, but she needs to rip the bandage off and get on with it. You know?”

“I do,” Alex said. “Your mom and I will still be on Archavia for another week – I have to find out what shoebox I get as my office, and then I have a meeting in Sobrylucicer with Rixie’s Aement AA. So if she needs anything, you tell her to call us. Whatever happens…we’re her family too.”

* * *

 

“You’re lucky I’m not the jealous type,” Joseph said.

“How could you possibly have ended up the jealous type?” Sorcha replied. “Your family couldn’t exist if your parents were prone to jealousy.”

“Still, Moze is….”

“Moze is busy at the moment, and you aren’t helping, Sorcha,” Moze said, from his perch on the upslope of her left breast. “And Joseph, you’re in my light.” He looked carefully at the tattoo at his feet, frowning. After a long moment, he nodded. “Good,” he said, grabbing his pad and stylus. He zoomed in on the design and added just a bit more of a neon blue to the edge. “Okay, bot – resume pattern.”

The long arm of the medical injection bot swung back over and once again danced over Sorcha’s skin, adding the new ink to that which had already been deposited directly above her heart.

“You’re lucky I’m not the jealous type,” Lessy chuckled, from a spot on the table adjacent to the bed. “But I know that look. He’s painting. Moze could be arse-deep in Sorcha’s pussy and he wouldn’t notice it.”

“I might,” Moze said. “Though it would be to wonder how I’d gotten there and how I’d keep you from hitting me.”

“Not worried about me?” Joseph said.

“Like you said, you’re not the jealous type, and at least it would be over quickly. Lessy would make me suffer. All right. Okay. That…that’s it. Take a look.”

Joseph handed Sorcha a hand-mirror, and she gazed into it. The design on her chest was a swirling, roiling explosion in blues and greens, centered on a point of near-white. A random observer might think it to be a pretty, abstract design made up of spirals and lines. But anyone who’d been on Tau Ceti for the battle, and had looked up into the sky at that moment…they would recognize it instantly. It was stylized, it wasn’t just a photograph transferred to skin – Sorcha had considered that, and rejected it. She had asked Moze for advice, and he had done better than just advise – he’d asked permission to design it himself. And because of that, it was somehow even more real than a photograph could capture.

“It’s perfect,” she murmured. “Just perfect. Thanks, Moze.”

“It was the least I could do,” Moze said, as Joseph removed him carefully from Sorcha’s breast. “If not for you…for you both….”

“None of that,” Sorcha said. “Lessy and I have already been through this, I owed her so many that I had to pay it back.”

“Exactly,” Joseph said. “And I’m the guy dating Sorcha, so that means I’m on the hook for half of her debts. Isn’t that how it works?”

“Something like that,” Lessy said, looking up at her friend as she put her bra back on. “Though if I were you, I’d look into a pre-nup – she tends to rack up a lot of debt. Gorram, Moze, you are good at art.”

“I try,” Moze said. “So what are you two up to the rest of the day?”

“The usual,” Joseph said. “We almost have the second recycling center up and running, but that means we’re going to need another power plant, so after sunrise, I have to go up to the mountains and see if the site the UNDP is recommending will work for Boundless Fountain and the Planetary Defense Corps. I mean, it should, but we have to be sure before we break ground.”

“And I get to meet with the Mentorship Committee to discuss whether we build the second settlement right by the main one or whether we go to the other side of the mountain, but you know that, Moze, you’re due to be there.”

“That’s tomorrow though,” Moze said with a grin. “You’re on a human world, Sorcha, just because you won’t sleep before that doesn’t mean we won’t.”

“Okay, fair,” Sorcha said. “In which case Joseph and I are both free for the rest of the evening.”

“Good,” Lessy said. “Since we’re already at the administration complex, we figured we’d do it tonight.”

“Do what tonight?” Joseph asked.

“Register our marriage.”

Sorcha was briefly and remarkably speechless. “Your…your mom and dad, are they coming in from the city?”

“We told them to meet us in…let’s see…about an hour. You two should change.”

“Us? What about you?”

“We have our clothes in my office,” Moze said. He shook his head. “My office. That still seems odd.”

“Only to you,” Joseph said. “And if your parents will be here in an hour then you’d better get a move on.”

“We have time,” Lessy said.

“We do not!” Joseph said. “Have you ever been around Sorcha when she’s trying to pick out an outfit? It takes her forever!”

“Oh, like you don’t enjoy watching me change my mind,” Sorcha said.

“Beside the point!” Joseph said.

“So you’re just registering it?” Sorcha asked.

“No, we’ve got an officiant,” Lessy said, getting onto her hoverpad. “All right, we’ll meet in Conference Room C in an hour then?”

“An hour it is,” Sorcha replied. “And guys…both of you…I’m…this is the best, you know.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Lessy said with a wide grin. “It really is.”