“I want to see him, Samantha. I would have wanted that even if Bruce were still alive.”
“All right then.” She stood on her toes and gave him a light kiss. “Thank you again, Kaz, you’ll make a wonderful uncle.”
He watched her walk off back to the village, a whole range of emotions messing his head around.
“Nice girl,” Harvey said. “I remember training her for a while.”
“Yeah,” Kazimir said.
“This is Stig McSobel,” Scott rasped in his damaged voice.
Kazimir shook hands with the stranger, surprised by how strong the grip was. He could look the man level in the eye, so he was no taller, but his shoulders were wide enough to stretch the fabric of his simple lace-up shirt. The McSobel was in his early thirties, with skin lighter than Kazimir’s, and a broad face that regarded the world with considerable amusement.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Kaz,” Stig said. “You’ve earned quite a reputation for yourself on your last few raids.”
Kazimir gave Scott and Harvey a sharp glance. “Is this another lecture?”
“About recklessness and personal vengeance?” Harvey asked. “Why should it be? Did you not pay attention last time?”
Kazimir started to push past. Stig put out a hand to stop him. Again, the man’s strength was very evident.
“If you can keep that temper of yours under control, I can use you,” Stig said. “Harvey here says you can. The ceremony should have been cathartic, and now you’ll start to accept his death. Is that right?”
“I saw Bruce’s death. I watched him die, and I could do nothing.”
“I know what that’s like. We all do; there’s nothing unique about you and your grief, Kazimir. You’re a McFoster, a fighter. One day you’ll die, and some other friend will watch it. Do you want their life to be blighted by that? We all have a right to live our lives as well, you know. There is more to us than the struggle against the Starflyer. This village shows that. Bruce’s baby should show you more than anything.”
“Well what the fuck else can I do?” Kazimir shouted. He was close to tears again, which would be an awful thing in front of the men he respected most. “I can fight, yes, and that’s how I help bring about this better time we’re all promised. If anger makes me fight harder, then good. Bruce would appreciate that.”
Scott laid a hand on Kazimir’s arm. “Just listen to what Stig has to say, lad. Where’s the harm in that, hey? We came to you with this because we’re worried about you. We don’t want to stop you fighting, but the way you are right now, you’re going to get yourself killed on one of these raids, and for no good reason. This way you can still carry on the fight without deliberately putting yourself in so much danger. Now how about you just stay quiet for a minute while Stig says his piece, huh?”
Kazimir gave a rough shrug, knowing he was being a hothead idiot. Not knowing how to stop. “Sure. Sorry. It’s just…” He waved at the memorial garden. “Today. You know.”
“I do,” Stig said. “If you felt nothing for him, you would not be a true clansman, you would be nothing better than a Starflyer slave. I respect what you’re going through.”
“What did you want?”
“You know the human starship has flown?”
“I heard, yeah.”
“Bradley Johansson believes its launch is the start of the Starflyer’s endgame. It will bring ruin to the human Commonwealth.”
“How?” Kazimir asked. He never had quite understood how the human starship could be involved in their fight against the Starflyer. It was just an exploratory flight.
“The barrier around the Dyson star was put up to contain a great evil. Johansson is worried that the humans will let it out. Some of the crew will be the Starflyer’s slaves.”
“What kind of evil?”
“We don’t know. But if the Commonwealth has to fight a war it will be badly weakened, economically and socially. Such an action would leave humanity vulnerable to the Starflyer as it gnaws at us from within.”
“But you said the starship has left. We can’t stop it now.”
“No. But, Kazimir, if the Starflyer is preparing to crush us, the time for the planet’s revenge will soon be here, possibly within a few years. That means the Starflyer will return to Far Away, and we must be ready.”
“I know that.”
“Good. Now this is where I can use you. There are a number of items which must be brought to Far Away so that the planet may have its revenge. Unfortunately, our supporters out there in the Commonwealth are being hunted down by the authorities that the Starflyer has corrupted. That means we have to set up alternative routes for the items we need. I’ve traveled around the Commonwealth, I know how it works. Now I have to go back and help our allies, but I’m going to take a small team of dedicated Guardians with me to help achieve our final goal. I’d like you to be one of them.”
“Me?” Kazimir asked in shock. Just the notion of leaving Far Away was awesome, let alone traveling around the planets whose names were closer to fable than fact. And she was out there… “Why me? I don’t know anything about the Commonwealth.”
“You can learn easily enough. Harvey says you are quick, which is good. Life there is very different, at least superficially. You must learn how to blend in easily. And you’re young; physically you can still adapt. You’ll have to train hard to build your muscles up to a point where your body can cope with standard gravity. There are drugs which can help, of course, and cellular reprofiling, but those techniques can’t do it all, you’ll need to commit yourself fully.”
“I can do that,” he said without even thinking.
“Was that a yes?”
“Yeah!”
“You will also have to obey orders. My orders. I cannot have you running around loose out there. This is the one operation that cannot be compromised, not ever. It is what the Guardians are, why we exist.”
“I understand that. I won’t let you down.”
“I’m sure you won’t, Kaz. But it will be Johansson who makes the final decision.”
Kazimir gave Scott and Harvey a confused glance. “What decision?”
“If you can help bring back what we need,” Harvey said. “The physical training is only half of your preparation. You really are going to have to learn how to behave like a Commonwealth citizen. I promised Stig you could do that, please don’t make me a liar.”
“Never, but… Johansson will decide?”
“Yes,” Stig said. “You’ll meet him before we begin the operation.”
Kazimir could barely believe what he was hearing. As far as he was concerned, Bradley Johansson was some remote icon that everyone quoted and deferred to, a historical giant. He wasn’t someone you got to meet in the flesh. “Fine,” Kazimir said faintly. “Where is he?”
“At the moment? I don’t know. But we’ll meet him on Earth.”
…
While she was being built, the Second Chance was the unisphere’s primary news story. Details of her design, stories about her construction, spun briefings on the politics behind the decision to build her, gossip on who would be picked for her crew, it all pumped up the ratings for any news media show. Then came the Alamo Avengers attack, and modest interest became outright fascination. It culminated with over seventeen billion people accessing her departure for Dyson Alpha in real-time. After that, as she traversed hyperspace for month after month, there was a distinct feeling of anticlimax, and even a little frustration. Commonwealth citizens simply weren’t used to anything that important being off-line; worse, it would be a year until they did hear what happened. Until then, everybody would just have to fall back on the old familiars of TSI soaps and dramas, squabbling politicians, badly behaved celebrities, and the Commonwealth Cup now moving into the quarter finals.
Then news of Morton’s arrest was released, along with the names of the arresting officers, and every train to Oaktier was suddenly full of reporters hungry for more information. The case was a studio editor’s dream: a Paula Myo investigation of an ice murder, a wealthy suspect with big political and business connections, a strong hint of financial scandal. And sex. What had once been idle Oaktier gossip about Morton seducing the beautiful young Mellanie and ruining her chances on the national diving team was pushed high up the coverage agenda, featuring heavily on every report and info-profile. His earlier conquests were soon tracked down and coaxed into telling their stories for respectable sums of money. Bribes were offered to Darklake City forensics officers to reveal exclusive insights into the evidence that the prosecution would present—which led to five subsequent contempt-of-court proceedings. Tara Jennifer Shaheef and Wyobie Cotal were forced to apply for nonharassment court injunctions against the swarms of reporters laying siege to their homes.
After a month’s buildup, expectations were running high. On the first morning of the trial, Darklake Superior Courthouse had to be cordoned off from the frenzy of media and public interest. Street barriers pushed the expectant crowd back half a city block. A long convoy of police cars and patrolbots escorted the prisoner van around to the secure reception area at the rear of the courthouse, its movements followed by cameras on a dozen helicopters. They never got a glimpse of Morton; the van vanished into a locked garage bay.
The trial venue was Court One, which the judicial authorities had hurriedly spent a large amount of their annual maintenance budget on sprucing up. With Oaktier about to spend at least a week in the focus of the entire Commonwealth, impressions were suddenly paramount. The rich golden brentwood paneling around the dock and judge’s bench was buffed. Both of the lawyers’ long heavy tables were resurfaced and waxed. The walls and ceiling were repainted, with the big justice symbol taken out for cleaning. Every polyphoto strip shone down brightly; the sound system was checked and balanced correctly.