Giannotti sank back into his chair. “Oh, hell, let’s not rehash a stale argument,” he muttered. Louder: “I do ask you to put that pessimism and cynicism of yours aside and think again. When everybody can have your lifespan, you’ll have no more reason to hide.”
“Sure,” Hanno agreed. “Why d’you suppose I founded this place? But let the change come gradually, with forewarning. Give me and my friends and the world time to prepare. Meanwhile, you said it, the argument has long since gone moldy.”
Giannotti laughed, as a man may laugh when he can lower a burden from his shoulders. “Okay. Shop talk and gossip. What’s new with you?”
Time goes fast in congenial company. The hour was past six when Hanno pulled up in front of CauldwelTs house.
The unpretentious building on Queen Anne Hill had a magnificent view. He stood for a minute and savored it. Beneath a westering sun the distant mountains seemed to glimmer only half real, as if they rose in a dream or in elfiand. Southward, beyond the slim silhouette of the Space Needle, the light turned Elliot Bay to molten silver and touched treetops with gold. Farther on, Rainier bulwarked heaven, blue rock-mass and white purity. Air went cool into breath. Traffic noises were a whisper, and a robin loosed scraps of melody. Yes, he thought, this was a lovely planet, an Aladdin’s hoard of wonders. Too bad how humans mucked it up. Nevertheless he intended to stick around.
A bit reluctantly, he went inside. Natalia Thurlow was there and the door not locked. She sat before the television watchingthe news. A jowly face and beaky nose filled the screen. The voice was lubricated, sonorous:
“—join in your noble cause. It is the cause of men and women of good will everywhere. This squandering of untold wealth on weapons of mass destruction, while human beings go hungry and homeless, must end, and end soon. I pledge myself—“ The view panned back to show a packed auditorium. On the stage, American and Soviet flags flanked Edmund Moriarty. The United Nations banner was spread directly behind, and a streamer above read CONCERNED CITIZENS’ COMMITTEE FOR PEACE.
“Judas priest!” Hanno groaned. “Do you want me to barf on our nice new carpet?”
Natalia turned the set off and came to give him a hug and a kiss. He responded energetically. She was a rangy blond in her mid-thirties who knew well how to please him, not least by being an independent sort.
Having disengaged, she ran ringers through the hair he had rumpled. “Hey, big boy, you came out of that bad mood in a hurry,” she laughed. “Not quite so fast, if you please. Dinner won’t wait for more than a short drink. I expected you earlier.” Usually she cooked. Hanno was good at it, but she found it relaxing after a day of working on computer software. She cocked her head. “Of course, afterward—”
“Well, all I want is a beer,” he said. “Sam and I hoisted a couple at the lab.”
“What? I thought you had less fun in prospect.”
“So did I, but I got out of die Internal Reaming Service sooner than I feared.” He had mentioned he was in for such a session, though not the identities actually involved. He sought the kitchen. She had already poured herself a sherry.
Returning with his mug of Ballard Bitter to sit down on the couch beside her, he found she had gone serious, half angry. “Bob,” she said, “I insist you quit making nasty cracks about the government. Sure, it has its faults, including heavy-handedness, but it is ours.”
“’Government of the people, by the people, and for the people.’ Yeah. Trouble is, the three classes of people aren’t the same.”
“I’ve heard you on the subject before, in case you’ve forgotten. If you’re right about that being the nature of government, why bitch at this one? It is the only thing that stands between us and what is far worse.”
“Not if Senator Moriarty has his way.”
“Wait a minute,” she said sharply. “You’re entitled to call him mistaken, but not to call him … a traitor, the way I’ve heard you imply. He speaks for millions of perfectly decent Americans.”