Brierson had read the GreenInc summary on the man. Kim Tioulang was born in 1967. That was two years before Man began the conquest of space, thirty years before the war and the plagues, at least fifty years before Della Lu was born. In a perverse sense, he was the oldest living human.
Tioulang had been born in Kampuchea, in the middle of one of the regional wars that pocked the late twentieth. Though limited in space and time, some of those wars were as horrible as what followed the 1997 collapse. Tioulang's childhood was drenched in death — and unlike the twenty-first-century plagues, where the murderers were faceless ambiguities, death in Kampuchea came person to person via bullets and backings and deliberate starvation. GreenInc said the rest of Tioulang's family disappeared in the maelstrom... and little Kim ended up in the USA. He was a bright kid; by 1997 he was finishing a doctorate in physics. And working for the organization that overthrew the governments and became the Peace Authority.
From there, GreenInc had little but Peacer news stories and historical inference to document Tioulang's life. No one knew if Tioulang had anything to do with starting the plagues. (For that matter, there was no absolute proof the Peace had started them.) By 2010, the man was Director for Asia. He'd kept his third of the planet in line. He had a better reputation than the other Directors; he was no Christian Gerrault, 'Butcher of Eurafrica.' Except during the Mongolian insurrection, he managed to avoid large-scale bloodshed. He remained in power right up to the fall of the Peace in 2048 — and that fall was for Tioulang less than four months past.
And so, even though Kim Tioulang predated the rest of living humanity by scant decades, his background put him in a class by himself. He was the only one who had grown up in a world where humans routinely killed other humans. He was the only one who had ruled, and killed to stay in power. Next to him, Steve Fraley was a high-school class president.
An arcing shot lifted the glowball above the crowd, putting Tioulang's face back in the light — and Wil saw that the Peacer was staring at him. The other smiled faintly, then stepped back from the crowd to stand beside Brierson. Up close, Wil saw that his face was mottled, pocked. Could old age alone do that?
'You're Brierson, the one who works for Korolev?' His voice was just loud enough to be heard over the laughs and shouting. Light danced back and forth around them.
Wil bridled, then decided he wasn't being accused of betraying the low-techs. 'I'm investigating Marta Korolev's murder.'
'Hmm.' Tioulang folded his arms and looked away from Wil. 'I've done some interesting reading the last few weeks, Mr. Brierson.' He chuckled. 'For me, it's like future history to see where the next hundred and fifty years took the world.... You know, those years turned out as well as ever I could hope. I always thought that without the Peace, humankind would exterminate itself.... And maybe it did eventually, but you went for more than a century without our help. I think the immortality thing must have something to do with it. Does it really work? You look around twenty years old —'
Brierson nodded. 'But I'm fifty.'
Tioulang scuffed at the lawn with his heel. His voice was almost wistful. 'Yes. And apparently I can have it now, too. The long view — I can already see how it softens things, and how that's probably for the best.
'I've also read your histories of the Peace. You people make us out as monsters. The hell of it is, you have some of it right.' He looked up at Wil, and his voice sharpened. 'I meant what I said this afternoon. The human race is in a bind here; we of the Peace would make the best leaders. But I also meant it when I said we're willing to go with democracy; I see now it could really work.
'You are very important to us, Brierson. We know you have Korolev's ear — don't interrupt, please! We can talk to her whenever we wish, but we think she respects your opinions. If you believe what I am telling you, there is some chance she may too.'
'Okay,' said Wil. 'But what is the message? You oppose Yelen's policies, want to run things under some government system with majority rule. What if your people don't win out? The NMs have a lot more in common with the ungovs and the high-techs than you. If we fall back to a government situation, they are more likely to be the leaders than you. Would you accept that?'
Tioulang looked around, almost as though checking for eavesdroppers. 'I expect we'll win, Brierson. The problems we face here are problems the Peace is especially well equipped to handle. Even if we don't win, we'll still be needed. I've talked to Steven Fraley. He may seem rough and tough to you.. , but not to me. He's a little bit of a fool, and likes to boss people around, but left to ourselves, we could get along.'
'Left to yourselves?'
'That's the other thing I want to talk to you about.' He shot a furtive glance past Wil. 'There are forces at work Korolev should know about. Not everyone wants a peaceful solution. If a high-tech backs one faction, we —' The swinging light splashed over them. Tioulang's expression suddenly froze into something that might might have been hatred. .. or fear. 'I can't talk more now. I can't talk.' He turned and walked stiffly away.
Wil glanced in the opposite direction. There was no one special in the crowd there. What had spooked the Peacer? Wil drifted around the court, watching the game and the crowd.
Several minutes passed. The game ended. There were the usual cheerful arguments about who should be on the new teams. He heard Tunc Blumenthal say something about 'trying something new' with the glowball. The random chatter lessened as Tunc talked to the players and they pulled down the volleyball net. When the new game started, Wil saw that Blumenthal had indeed tried something new.
Tunc stood at the serving line and punched the glowball across the court, over the heads of the other team. As it passed across the far court out-of-bounds, there was a flash of green light and the ball
