The Long War

“What wider issues?”

“Whether you like it or not, Mr. Valienté, there are questions of national security involved here. This isn’t about animals, for cripes’ sakes. I’m talking about threat. That’s what concerns my constituents, here on the Datum. The threat of the unknown. It wasn’t so bad when all we had to think about was aliens coming at us from another planet, like in the movies! Shit, at least we’d get warning, you’d think. At least we’d have a chance of shooting them out of the sky. But now we have open borders, it seems to me. Now the aliens could just walk in!”

The Irishman—Jackson had to check the name again, Bill Chambers—spoke for the first time, all but. “Senator, you’re talking about these mad military twains you’ve sent out all over the place, aren’t you?”

Starling leaned forward.

Jackson tensed, ready for trouble; he knew the warning signs when his lord and master was getting pissed.

“Yes, sir,” said Starling. “That’s one response. Somebody must plan for the worst eventuality. That’s the job of a responsible government.”

To Jackson’s horror, Chambers actually blew a raspberry. “Ah, come off it, Senator. Are you kidding? This is just another boondoggle, a spending free-for-all, like the missile gap after Sputnik, like 9/11, like Madison. The vaguer the threat the more money you get to chuck at it, right? Look, I live out there, and here’s what I say. I say you can’t have one government for a million Americas, and this proves it. It just can’t work, it would be one god-awful bureaucracy. Well, so it is already. Hell, after all those centuries the fecking English never even managed to run Ireland properly. How are you lot going to manage this?”

Valienté laughed. “You’d better not go repeating that when those Navy airships show up over our town hall, Bill.”

“Yeah. Maybe you should hold that thought, pioneer guy.”

But Chambers wasn’t quite done. “You know, before Step Day one world was enough for you characters. Because you didn’t even know the rest existed, did you? Now we’ve gone out there and made something of it all, and you lot who stayed at home want a piece of the fecking pie. Suddenly one world is no longer enough for you. Can’t you just leave us alone?”

Starling just looked at the man, steadily. Then he sat back and turned to Valienté, to Jackson’s relief; at least it didn’t look as though there’d be any actual physical violence, not this time.

“You know, Mr. Valienté,” Starling said now, “I have nothing to say to your companion here. I’m kind of disappointed in you, however. I understand you are known to be a truthful man, a careful man. I have seen depositions commending you for valour when you were younger, on Step Day. Quite a number of young people owed their lives to you. Then came that episode when you went charging off into the Long Earth—going where no one had gone before, right? All very admirable. Now you come in here with these ridiculous demands, this bullshit about these animals… I’d have thought you’d see a bigger picture. Ah, what the hey.” Then he grinned, unexpectedly. This was often Starling’s way, Jackson knew, to become good-old-boy expansive having mauled his opponent to his satisfaction.

“Listen. Let’s not part on bad terms. I believe you to be brave but naive, just as you probably believe that I am a mere tool of the military-industrial complex. Nevertheless you have spoken your piece and done it well, and I enjoyed disputing with you. I suspect your Sister Agnes would be proud of you, if I may say so.”

That caught Valienté short, as no doubt it was meant to. Jackson was impressed Starling had read that far in his briefing.

“Oh, I know all about the Home that used to be on Allied Drive, Mr. Valienté. It’s become part of your legend, for better or worse. And I met Agnes once, when she came into this office to harangue me about a different issue. I was very sorry to hear about her death. I know she meant a great deal to you and other former inmates.”

Valienté actually smiled, which was a measure of Starling’s charisma. “Well—thank you. She had a calm death. There was even a representative of the Vatican at her funeral.”

“A nod of respect to a worthy foe, I imagine, from what I understand of her career.”

“Yeah. Even though they used to say she was the worst Catholic since Torquemada, or so she claimed. You know, Mr. Starling, I don’t exactly miss her. Somehow it’s as if she never died…”

25

Helen was waiting for him when he got back to Jansson’s house in Madison West 5. To their shared relief she was out of custody now, but under house arrest, here at Jansson’s.

She listened to his frustrated account of his meeting with Starling.