“It’s good,” said Norton, which it was.
“Good?” said Travis. “No, it’s very good. But you’re not aware of it because you’ve never eaten food of this type and quality, yes?”
“You’re right, I’ve never eaten food like this before. As for quality, isn’t that a matter of… er… taste?”
“Taste has to be nurtured, developed, matured. Like so many other experiences, appreciation of good food increases with time.”
Norton wondered how much time he had. What did Travis want with him? He guessed he was about to find out.
“How old are you, John Wayne?” asked Travis.
“Three hundred and… er…”
Travis looked at him.
“I’m twenty-one,” said Norton.
“Had you bought a commission?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Were you an officer?”
“Yeah, sure. A police officer.”
“What rank? Lieutenant? Captain?”
“Were you a police chief?” asked Diana, with a laugh.
“This is serious,” said Travis, but he also laughed.
Norton wondered what was so funny.
“Whatever you were,” said Travis, “this is a new beginning for you, Corporal.”
“Corporal?” said Norton.
“Sergeant, then. You want to be a sergeant?”
“Yes, sir!” said Norton.
“Congratulations on your promotion,” said Diana. “Twenty-one. That must have been very young to be a secret agent, Sergeant.”
Norton looked at her—and he knew that she knew that he’d never been an agent.
“It would have been,” he said, “but I wasn’t.”
“You are now,” said Travis.
“Oh,” said Norton.
“You’re a complete unknown. You have no identity. No one knows you exist. Which makes you an ideal secret agent.”
“I am known; Mandy made a programme about me.”
“Yes, but transmission was restricted,” said Travis, “to a single screen and an audience of two. Any questions?”
It seemed he’d gone to a lot of trouble. Norton had plenty of questions, but he didn’t want to ask them.
“How did Las Vegas,” he asked instead, “get lost?”
“It was abandoned, reclaimed by the desert,” said Diana.
“The biggest city in America, you said, and it was abandoned?”
“That’s why it was abandoned. It was too big. It ran out of water.”
“Where did the water go?”
“World warming. Global pollution. Change of climate. You missed all that.”
“Yeah. Last I heard, there was another ice age on the way.” Norton shivered. He’d had his own personal ice age.
“You also missed the Reds taking over,” said Travis.
“The Reds!” said Norton. “The Reds took over America?”
“They started in Las Vegas.”
“What! The Commies invaded Vegas?”
“Commies?”
“Communists. The Russians, the Chinese, the Viet Cong.” Norton glanced at his drink. “Was it the Cubans?”
“It was the Redskins,” said Travis, “who took control of Las Vegas.”
“Red Indians?”
“They ran all the gambling in your country,” said Diana.
“The Indians? Operating casinos? Never.” Norton shook his head. “You’ve got that wrong.”
They had seen too many clips of old movies—disjointed and jumbled up, backward and at the wrong speed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Kiru had imagined that the convicts of Clink survived in primitive conditions, eking out a miserable existence in ragged tents or mud huts. But the old man, whatever his name was, and whoever he was, lived in an imposing villa with spectacular views. To the north lay the dense forest, to the west a jagged range of ice-capped mountains, to the south a vast lake.
As Kiru and her host sat on the east verandah, her rescuer brought a tray with two glasses of iced tea and a selection of cream cakes.
“He seems to like you, son,” said the old man, watching him go back inside the house. “How odd.”
“I’m not your son,” said Kiru. “I’m not anyone’s son. I’m a girl. Haven’t you realised?”
“You think I care what sex you are? You think I care anything about you?”
If he did, it would be a first.
“Who is he?” asked Kiru. “Or don’t you care?”
“That’s Grawl. He’s from Earth. We Terrans have to stick together.”
“Help each other out, you mean? So when you stole my clothes and supplies, you were helping me? I should have realised. I thought you were just helping yourself.”
“Shouldn’t jump to conclusions, son.”
“My name is Kiru.”
“You think I care about your name? You know how many people I’ve met in my life?”
“No. And I don’t care.”
“Neither do I. You’ll be dead within a few weeks, like most of the others.” The old man paused. “Or maybe not. Why does Grawl like you, I wonder? I’m sure it’s not because you’re a—what’s the word?—a girl.”
“He doesn’t have much to say for himself,” said Kiru.
“Not much. What has he said to you?”
“Nothing. Not a word.”
“Exactly. Not a word. Grawl can’t speak. That’s one reason for having him around. Silence is a great social asset. It’s a pity there aren’t more like him.” The old man stared at her.
“Is that why you killed twenty-three people? To silence them?”
“I was tried for twenty-three murders, which isn’t the same as killing twenty-three people.”
“It isn’t?”
“No. I’ve killed far more than twenty-three. Plus aliens, of course.”
“Who are you?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“I do.”
“You don’t. Everyone who knows who I am is dead. And if you ever find out, it means you’re about to join them.”
Kiru stared into the man’s eyes. They were cold and empty. He’d warned her not to believe what she was told, but she knew every word was true.
“More tea?” he asked, as the alien sun slowly set in the east, sinking behind the huge pile of discarded technotrash.
CHAPTER NINE
Wayne Norton used to think driving through Nevada was boring, but even in the desert there was always something to look at. And whenever he wanted, he could stop and get out.
It wasn’t like that on a spaceship.
He’d never even been in an airplane, but now he was on his second space flight. At first he was very nervous, and the journey to the Moon wasn’t long enough for him to get bored. He’d also been nervous at the start of his second voyage, but that anxiety was soon replaced by tedium.
Because he was travelling on a cheap ticket, he was denied access to the time-passing pastimes of those in the more expensive berths. Those who had paid the most, however, needed no such entertainment. The premier-class passengers spent the entire voyage in deep sleep.
Even if the budget allowed, Norton wouldn’t have risked it. He had a tendency to oversleep, and the last thing he wanted was to wake up and find another three hundred years had slipped by and he was in the far future. Or an even further future. The first time, he’d woken up on his own planet. This time, he was heading out across space, his destination an alien world.
The far future.
Across space.
An alien world.
It was funny how life worked out.
He’d never imagined he would become a policeman, for example, but that was about the only thing which hadn’t changed. Norton was still in the police.
A member of GalactiCop.
He didn’t feel like a police officer, however. Maybe because of the uniform. There wasn’t one.
It just wasn’t the same being in plain clothes. Not that his clothes were very plain. It had been difficult to find an outfit which wasn’t some weird combination of colours, a pair of pants which weren’t cut off at the calf, a jacket with cuffs which didn’t cover his fingers. His clothing was relatively restrained, which probably made him appear conspicuous. It was either that or feeling very self-conscious. Why did everyone on Earth wear a clown suit?