He wished she wasn’t wearing mirror contact lenses. It made her a little threatening. “It’s based on true events.”
She thought of the vid’s story, and how the characters had coped or died. “They got some of it right.”
His ordinary face lit up with excitement. “You know about this?”
“I’m a historian.” Nowadays a dubious occupation, but she doubted the man would be upset. “Kara Jones wasn’t so sympathetic in real life. Tatia was an airhead. Marc a failed artist. They just got very, very lucky. Any idea who made it?”
He looked nervously around, as if there was an Originator lurking in a corner. “They say it was an AI. Not a personal one, but one of those that used to run things, back when...”
Back when humans voyaged to the stars, she thought. They still could, but city staters could only use Originator ships to planets considered safe. Everything so damn safe. “Any idea which one?”
“Someone said – Twist?” he said hesitantly. “Make sense?” “Never heard of it.” So Twist was looking to cause mischief. But why? “I must go. Thanks.”
He saw her to the front door of the apartment in a rundown building on the outskirts of Bristol. “That Greenaway character fascinates me.”
She was silent for a moment. “He was a ruthless bastard.”
“But brave. The shoot-out by the Severn! Love it. Too bad he had to die.”
“You’re not happy with your life?”
He looked worried. A bootleg vid was one thing. Expressing dissatisfaction another. “The Originators provide everything we could possibly want...”
“Except freedom,” she cut in.
“Freedom to starve, to kill, to be unhappy is a curse,” he quoted.
“You believe that?”
He took a deep breath. “No. But we’re a minority.”
Which was true. Since the Originators began giving away high tech, three things had happened. The old world order vanished. The new world was run by pre-cogs – dedicated to the greater good – who could somehow communicate with the Originators. And most people were happy to eat lotus for the rest of their lives.
“Is it... do you think... I mean, one day...” he tailed off, unable to articulate the secret hope that never left him.
She half smiled, the mirror lenses vanished and for less than a second all the colours of hell reached into his mind. The lenses reappeared.
“Anything’s possible,” Kara said.
The jitney was waiting for her in the street. She got in and reached to kiss the driver on the cheek. “Missed you.”
“How was it? Who made it?”
“Twist, apparently.”
The jitney rose up and headed for the M6 Airway. “I’ll be damned,” Anson Greenaway said. “The kids okay?”
She nodded. “Being spoilt by Tatia.”
“And the vid?”
“Mostly accurate. You’re dead by the way. Angry nature entity by the Severn.”
He remembered the scene. “Angry’s an understatement.”
“Sex scenes were good,” she said and touched his thigh.
< Can’t you wait until we get home?
> Shut up. Anyway, you don’t exist.
< Me and several million others.
The jitney slotted into the queue waiting to join the M6. The queue moved forward every minute as a jitney was fed into the main traffic.
“So what do you think, Kara? Do we go live in Seattle? Or stay in the Forest of Dean?”
“How was your trip?”
“I visited all the Wilder planets. They’re in favour of breaking away. On Earth it’s around seventy–thirty. You and Tatia and Marc bought us the time we needed. Thing is, though, break away from what? Not as if the pre-cogs have formed any kind of government. Would they even notice – or care?”
Anson was right, she thought. Government at local level – garbage collection, police, everything necessary for day-to-day life. Above that, nothing. Except the occasional edict which often made no sense, but was still obeyed unless you planned to die. Aside from the Wild, the majority on Earth were happy and wanted the status to be quo for ever. They might not understand the edicts – oh, those aliens, such rascals – but would make sure everyone obeyed them.
“What about our pre-cogs?” she asked.
“Not happy. Overwhelmed.”
Kara sighed. “We never understood the sheer size of Originator space. How many there are. Their scientific and industrial abilities. We killed the wrong race.”
“We were always meant to,” he said flatly.
Kara glanced sharply at him. “You too?”
“It’s possible the Originators wanted rid of the jellyfish creatures. They got us to do it for them. That’s why they came past when you were in orbit. The Originator version of paying their respects.”
Kara nodded. “Don’t know about the last, but otherwise, I think you’re wrong. If we were manipulated it was by someone, something we don’t know. Maybe whoever put that AI in Tatia’s head. I love her dearly, but no human is capabable of blasting an alien race by thought alone. Not without help. Any other happy news?”
“The Gliese are dying out. Like that planet you found.”
She knew a moment’s sadness. Bred to be the Originators’ links with other races, discarded when they no longer matched the pre-cog plan. “Maybe it’ll happen to humans one day.”
“Could be. The Originators lack creativity, need to steal science and tech. As long as we’re part of their plan, fine. If that changes, we no longer matter. Or might even be in the way.”
“You weren’t really asking where I wanted to live,” Kara said. “But if I wanted to continue. Well, I do.”
The queue moved forward then suddenly stopped. At its head a jitney hung half in and half out of the slow aerial lane. Suddenly the local info net was jammed with people asking what the hell, protesting that this never happened before.
Kara and Anson glanced at each other. “End of an empire?” Kara joked.
“Funnily enough things are fucking up all over. The great pre-cog, all must be cosy and safe society isn’t working as well as it did.”
“I wonder what Marc would say.”
“Something cutting. Still miss him?”
Kara nodded. “Not as much as Tatia. She has her lovers but Marc is still the only one.”
“And so we carry on.
