The Arrows of Time

Agata struggled to animate the fixed expression she could feel on her face. ‘It’s very quick now, isn’t it? The recovery?’

‘I’ll be mobile in a day, they said,’ Serena replied. ‘It’s not just better drugs and better signal delivery; they really stress the target mass now.’ She started on a third loaf.

Vala turned to Agata. ‘I suppose you’ve been busy with the referendum?’

‘I sat in on three of the debates, after my own,’ Agata said. ‘I couldn’t make it to the others.’ In truth, she’d found it too frustrating to keep attending; as a former participant she wasn’t allowed to interject. ‘There were good speakers on both sides. No one can claim that all the arguments haven’t been aired.’

‘I wish they’d show them on the network,’ Vala complained. ‘Not everyone wants to be packed into a crowd like that.’

Serena said, ‘I think the traditionalists are afraid that if we start broadcasting the debates, they’ll turn into two people taking turns addressing an empty room. But maybe the Council will change the rules next time.’

Agata looked up at the news screen. The vote had crossed one sixth of the roll, and her side was still behind.

Medoro approached, catching her in the act. ‘Does it bother anyone else that a sharp-eyed observer might see which way you voted by watching those things?’

Agata said, ‘The scale’s never finer than a dozen people per pixel.’

Medoro was undeterred. ‘What if I already know how eleven of those people will be voting?’

The five of them spent the next half-bell arguing about the safeguards in the voting system. With Serena’s help they managed to empty both baskets of loaves before midday; Agata had eaten her fill, but she felt like a break so she volunteered to fetch some more.

‘I’ll come with you,’ Medoro offered.

‘How will you work on the camera now?’ Agata asked him as they left the voting precinct.

‘Serena told you about the children?’

‘Yes.’

‘She’s going to help look after them,’ Medoro said. ‘She and Gineto. I’ll still have time to work.’

‘You’d trust her with the job?’

Medoro buzzed, affronted. ‘I can’t believe you’d say that! You were raised by a woman single-handed, and you turned out all right.’

‘Did I?’

‘Better than the woman who raised you.’ He caught himself. ‘I shouldn’t criticise Cira; that whole generation was confused. And it’s hardly her fault that it took so long for the biologists to learn how to shed men.’

‘But now they can, and everything’s perfect.’ Agata hadn’t meant to sound bitter, but the words kept emerging that way.

‘So you’ve given up on making Pio an uncle?’ Medoro asked.

‘There’s nothing we agree on,’ Agata said. ‘It would feel like I was doing it for selfish reasons, and then the children would be stuck with all his crazy ideas.’

‘And you don’t want to try a Cira? Raise them yourself?’

‘No. I’d probably mess them up even more than Pio would.’

‘I don’t believe that,’ Medoro replied. ‘But if you don’t want a child, don’t have one. Pio will survive. Cira will get over it. And despite your rude remarks about Serena, if you ever feel like babysitting you’re welcome to join the roster.’

‘Thanks.’

‘You’re just worried that I’ll get more letters from the future than you,’ Medoro joked. ‘All that lavish praise for your theories of cosmology won’t cut it; you’ll be looking for mindless gossip from the descendants, just like the rest of us.’

They were approaching the food hall now. There was a news screen at the entrance; from a distance the two counts looked perfectly matched, though that impression was unlikely to survive closer scrutiny.

Agata said, ‘And if we don’t win today—’

Medoro reached over to thump her arm. ‘If we don’t win, it’s not going to kill you. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.’

‘Ha.’ Agata felt a pang of shame, but not enough to shift her perspective. ‘If we win, I’ll stop being jealous of your sister’s perfect life,’ she said. ‘How’s that for a promise?’

Medoro said, ‘I’m waiting to hear the second part.’

‘If we lose… I don’t know.’ If she had never imagined any of the miracles the messaging system offered, she would have lived happily enough without them. But it was too late for that now.

‘If we lose, you can leave behind a message for Eusebio,’ Medoro suggested. ‘Tell him how much you enjoyed flying in his rocket. We can carve it in an axial staircase, then no one will mess with it before it’s been sanctified by age. That’s contact with the ancestors, isn’t it?’

Agata said, ‘No, that’s graffiti. It’s only contact if he sends me a reply.’

11

‘It was so close!’ Rosita said consolingly. ‘You should be proud that you made it so close.’

Ramiro forced himself not to snap at her. She’d come to his apartment unbidden, to stand beside him through the final two bells of the vote. No one else in his family had even acknowledged his efforts.