TWELVE
Wil was at the North Shore party later that week.
Virtually everyone was there, even some high-techs.
Della and Yelen were absent-and Tammy was more or less forbidden from attending these outings-but he saw Blumenthal and Genet. Today they looked almost like anyone else. Their autons hovered high, all but lost in the afternoon light. For the first time since taking the Korolev case, Wil didn't feel like an outsider. His own autons were indistinguishable from the others, and even when visible, the fliers seemed no more intimidating than party balloons.
There were two of these affairs each week, one at Town Korolev sponsored by New Mexico, the other run by the Peacers here at North Shore. Just as Rohan said, both groups were doing their best to glad-hand the uncommitted. Wil wondered if ever in history governments had been forced to tread so softly.
Clusters of people sat on blankets all across the lawn. Other folks were lining up at the barbecue pits. Most were dressed in shorts and tops. There was no sure way of telling Peacers from NMs from ungovs, though most of the blue blankets belonged to the Republic. Steve Fraley himself was attending. His staff seemed a little stiff, sitting on lawn chairs, but they were not in uniform. The top Peacer, Kim Tioulang, walked over and shook Steve's hand. From this distance, their conversation looked entirely cordial....
So Yelen figured he should mingle, observe, find out just how unpopular her plans were. Okay. Wil smiled faintly and leaned back on his elbows. It had been a matter of duty to come to this picnic, to do just what the Dasgupta brothers-and simple common sense-had already suggested. Now he was very glad he was here, and the feeling had nothing to do with duty.
In some ways, the North Shore scenery was the most spectacular he'd seen. It was strikingly different from the south side of the Inland Sea. Here, forty-meter cliffs fell straight to narrow beaches. The lawns that spread inland from the cliffs were as friendly as any park in civilization. A few hundred meters further north, the clifftop bench ended in steep hills shrouded by trees and flowers-climbing and climbing, till they stood faintly bluish against the sky. Three waterfalls streamed down from those heights. It was like something out of a fairy tale.
But the view was only the smallest part of Wil's pleasure. He'd seen so much beautiful country the last few weeks-all untouched and pristine as any city-hater could wish. Something in the back of his mind thought it the beauty of a tomb -and he a ghost come to cry for the dead. He brought his gaze back from the heights and looked across the crowds of picnickers.
'Hey, lazybones, if you're not going to help with the food, at least give us room to sit down!' It was Rohan, a big grin on his face. He and Dilip were back from the food lines. Two women accompanied them. The four sat down, laughing briefly at Wil's embarrassment. Rohan's friend was a pretty Asian; she nodded pleasantly to him. The other woman was a stunning, dark-haired Anglo; Dilip really knew how to pick 'em. 'Wil, this is Gail Parker. Gail's an EMC —'
'ECM,' the girl corrected.
'Right, an ECM officer on Fraley's staff.
She wore thigh-length shorts, with a cotton top; he'd never have guessed she was an NM staffer. She stuck out her hand. 'I've always wondered what you were like, Inspector. Ever since I was a little girl, they've been telling me about that big, black, badass northerner name of W. W. Brierson....' She looked him up and down. 'You don't look so dangerous.' Wil took her hand uncertainly, then noticed the mischievous gleam in her eyes. He'd met a number of New Mexicans since the failed NM invasion of the ungoverned lands. A few didn't even recognize his name. Many were frankly grateful, thinking he had speeded the disgovernance of New Mexico. Others-the die-hard statists of Fraley's stripe-hated Wil out of all proportion to his significance.
Gail Parker's reaction was totally unexpected... and fun. He smiled, and tried to match her tone. 'Well, ma'am, I'm big and black, but I'm really not such a badass.'
Gail's reply was interrupted by an immensely loud voice echoing across the picnic grounds. 'FRIENDS —' There was a pause. Then the amplified voice continued more quietly. 'Oops, that was a bit much.... Friends, may I take a few moments of your time.'
Rohan's friend said quietly, 'So wonderful; a speech.' Her English was heavily accented, but Wil thought he heard sarcasm. He had hoped that with Don Robinson's departure he would be spared any more 'friends' speeches. He looked down the lawn at the speaker. It was the Peacer boss who had been talking to Fraley a few moments earlier. Dilip handed a carton of beer over Wil's shoulder. 'I advise you to drink up, 'friend,' ' he said. 'It may be the only thing that saves you.' Wil nodded solemnly and broke the seal on the carton.
The spindly Peacer continued. 'This is the third week we of the Peace have hosted a party. If you have been to the others, you know we have a message to get across, but we haven't bothered you with speeches. Well, by now we hope we've 'sucked you in' enough so you'll give me a hearing.' He laughed nervously, and there were responding chuckles from the audience, almost out of sympathy. Wil chugged some beer and watched the speaker narrowly. He'd bet anything the guy really was nervous and shy-not used to haranguing the masses. But Wil had read up on Tioulang. From 2010 till the fall of the Peace Authority in 2048, Kim Tioulang had been the Director for Asia. He had ruled a third of the planet. So maybe his diffidence reflected nothing more than the fact that if you're a big-enough dictator, you don't have to impress anyone with your manner.
'Incidentally, I warned President Fraley of my intention to propagandize this
