“We prefer the term ‘gender expansion.’ ”
“Whatever. The material benefits of post-scarcity shouldn’t be wholly dependent on pimping the DNA of your children.”
“But, dear child, the formation of Utopial society was never just about physical rewards. The Universal culture provides much to its citizens—to a great many of them, in fact. Today there are fewer living in relative poverty than ever before.”
“So why insist on the omnia-only clause?”
“Because I seek more from people. I seek universal equality. And the most basic inequality is that caused by a binary gender. It fuels every disparity and bigotry present in the so-called Universal culture. It condemned our history on Earth to variants of the same mistakes because, before genetic modification, it could not be eradicated. I know this. In my youth I experienced it in ways you should be thankful you will never encounter. It is worse than any of the miseries brought about by the old foes of religion, capitalism, communism, and tribal nationalism. Those can all be cured in time with education and love, but genders would remain unless we took action.” Hir hand was extended palm outward toward Kruse. “And now…even that problem has been solved. Quite beautifully, too.”
Kruse beamed worshipfully. “Thank you.”
“Nice theory,” Kandara said. “But all you’ve done is set up an admittedly worthwhile society that exists in parallel to the majority society. You’re not changing anything.”
“The Universal factions are in constant conflict,” Kruse said darkly. “They will fall as we will rise.”
“Which is why I’m here,” Kandara concluded. “Not falling the way you hoped, huh?”
“Their hostility is unremitting,” Jaru acknowledged with a profound sigh. “And recently they have advanced that enmity to a level it is impossible to brush aside as petulance. They seek to inflict physical harm. Much as I would wish it, I am not Gandhi. My father’s pragmatism remains strong in me.”
“Tell me what you need,” Kandara said.
“A group of Universal activists has been sabotaging our design bureaus. Some of the most promising research has been stolen and our results corrupted. They are damaging us, Kandara, quite badly—though that cannot be admitted in public. We don’t know where they came from or who sent them. They elude us. Find them. Stop them.”
Kandara nodded solemnly. “It’s what I do.”
—
“We’ve put a team together for you,” Kruse said as they walked back through the trees.
“Oh, really? What kind of team? And who’s we?”
“Our Home Security Bureau. We brought in a variety of experts and advisors. It is their task to track down the physical location where the attacks come from.”
“Okay, that’s good.” Kandara had been expecting to use some of the specialists she was familiar with, but she was prepared to give Kruse’s people a chance.
A portal door in the habitat’s endcap took them down to a hub on Akitha. Seven hubs later, they reached the central metrohub of Naima, a city of some 700,000 inhabitants sprawling across the southern side of a large island. From there it was ten hubs around a metro loop to the street where Kruse had assembled the team.
Kandara stepped out of the hub and immediately dabbed at the sweat that was starting to bead on her brow. Naima was part of an archipelago in the equatorial zone, making it considerably hotter and more humid here than it had been back in Nebesa. They’d emerged into a white stone plaza that was several hundred meters above a calm indigo ocean. Naima occupied the rugged slope on all sides, comprised of modest stone-and-glass buildings that Kandara felt were a little too similar. It put her in mind of the Tuscan villages she’d visited in her childhood, when her parents had spent several weeks in Italy on management courses at their employer’s head office. Pretty and peaceful, if bland.
They walked along the broad road with its central sentry line of tall palm trees, her bagez rattling over the authentically uneven cobbles behind her. A minute later they arrived at the villa. It squatted at the top of a small cliff, with a glass-walled living room presenting a magnificent view across the broad, curving bay below the city. In the distance, a clutter of small pillar-like rock islands stood proud from the sun-sparkled water. Beyond the open doors, a paved patio stretched out to an infinity pool. When Kandara walked over to it, she realized most of the pool must be supported on pillars; only the house itself was sitting on the terraced cliff.
“Okay, this will do,” Kandara admitted.
“The team is in the kitchen,” Kruse told her.
Naima might have been Italianate, but the kitchen clearly followed a more Nordic tradition—a minimalist spectacle of black-and-scarlet marble, with a dozen worktop recesses from which various culinary devices could slide out as required, looking more like sculptures than practical machinery. She tried not to show any envy, but it made her little kitchen seem quite tired in comparison.