Coming of Age: Part I
Chapter One
It was paradise. Fortuna licked her ice cream as she walked down the beach, sand between her toes. Contessa was a vague memory, the nightmare of Gold Morning was behind her, and she was going to sunbathe. After a hard morning of leisurely swimming, and an ice cream brunch, she deserved it.
Unlimited power and resources were available to every person on the planet, a scant two billion. There was no place here for the tragedies of Earth Bet. Anyone who tried to topple this world would be taken down by the ceaseless surveillance of the ruling class before they could even begin. For the first time in her life since Edenfall, Fortuna felt safe.
Finishing her cone, she looked out to sea, safe under the shadow of the giant metal disc that hovered over Buenos Aires, one of the many in geostationary orbits over each of this world's other cities. The giant metal ships in the sky, the unlimited food and power, and the pristine, unburned, world was everything she had hoped for. The ice cream was nice as well.
She hadn't quite discarded Path to Victory on arrival: Path to Finding Utopia and Path to Fitting In had been needed at first, but now she was settled. She was Fortuna, she was home, and for the first time since she was a child, she was happy.
It was definitely time for a snack lunch, something she could eat on the beach and not have to worry about sticky fingers. The crepe stand down the beachside where she'd had her unhealthy and delightful breakfast was an immediate and welcome solution, and there was only one person already waiting.
"Ah, and one for you?" The stallholder greeted her.
"I'll have a sweet one, please," she asked, automatically reaching for a wallet and then remembering that currency had been abolished the year before. The stallholder laughed.
"You're not the only one that does that." He was pouring the batter onto the hotplate as he spoke, shaping it with fast arcs of the paddle. Fortuna watched fascinated as the crepe began to brown, wondering if she could learn that. It would be easy to do, but learning how to do it all by herself would be something new.
"If no one pays, why are you still out here?" she asked.
"I love it." He smiled, "What else am I going to do?"
"Well they taste amazing." He winked at her, flipping the crepe in half and half again into its paper cone, passed it to the waiting customer, and poured the next.
"Any filling?"
"No, no thanks, just the crepe." She smiled, stretched in the sunlight as the customer walked off. The stallholder grinned.
"You here for anything special, or just a holiday?"
"Seeing the sites, enjoying the sun."
"Ah, we get a lot of those, since the Overlords opened up travel." They both looked up briefly towards the great ship in the sky. "I think of it as the world's biggest beach umbrella." Fortuna giggled. She hadn't known she was going to, and she enjoyed it. It was nice to not know exactly what she had to say, terrifying but nice.
"How do you get to go up there?" she asked.
"Be an Overlord." The stallholder peeled her crepe off, folding it, and passed it over. "Want another?"
"Yes please." She nibbled on the edge of hers as he poured the next crepe, still looking at the ship. It would be interesting to be up there, but to take on the responsibility of running a world wasn't something she envied them. She'd done it once. Never again. "I don't think I'd like the job."
"Well, they travelled halfway across the galaxy to do it," the stallholder gestured with the ladle to the ranks of holiday makers on the pristine beach, "and I'm not complaining about the results." Fortuna gasped, a quick intake of breath that surprised her.
"The Overlords are not human?" she blurted out. The stallholder gave her an odd look.
"No one knows." he said. The prickling down her spine was uncomfortable, something she did not want to remember.
"Have you never seen one?"
"No, no one has." The stallholder was looking at her closely now. "Have you had too much sun?"
"Possibly. I don't feel very well." She rubbed at her shoulder where the skin was hot and reddening. "Can I have a bottle of water with that?"
"Yeah," he handed it to her with her second crepe. "You can get refills from the tap. There's a bench in the shade over there."
"Thanks." She fumbled open the bottle and drank, sitting down in the shade to clear her head. Her thoughts were racing. Aliens were new to her. The only aliens she knew were Zion and the other, and both those things were dead. Fortuna looked at the water bottle, examing the reflection of the ship above as it twisted and distorted. If no one had ever seen the strange aliens, what were they really like? She'd promised herself that she would never use the Path again, but she was curious. What could it hurt to use it for herself for once? The question was easy:
Path to finding out what the Overseers intend without them knowing.
Thirty-eight steps. None were particularly arduous, and she could do it in a couple of days. Fortuna shrugged. She finished her crepes first.
#
She had expected research, or contact with the aliens, but the Path took her to the airport and a plane ticket to Finland. In the airport she subscribed to a journalist's course registering as a student. Her identity documents would be ready at the far end. One phone call arranged a taxi from the airport to a bus stop near a quiet suburb. She walked from the bus stop into the area, ten metres, then turn left and half a mile to the the outskirts. Then to the small retirement house with 'R. Stormgren' on the gate.
Fortuna opened the gate, and knocked as the Path required. The old man who opened the door was still spry despite the cane.
"Mr. Stormgren, I'm pleased to meet you."
"And you. What brings a lovely lady like you to an old man's door?" The deprecating humour in his tone took any offence from the words. Fortuna smiled, because the path did not say she could not.
"I'm Fortuna Milan. I'm doing a journalism course, and I need to get an interview with a public figure. My last one fell through and-" she stammered to a halt and he smiled.
"I'm surprised you think this old fossil has anything new to say, but company is always welcome." He stepped back, pointing his cane at the lounge. "Take a seat."
"So what do you want to talk about?" His English was rusty from disuse, but serviceable enough
"Your career." She flipped open her notebook one-handed and leaned forward, pen at the ready. "You were the Secretary-General of the United Nations."
"So I was."
"And the Overlords?" she shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry but everyone's going to ask."
"They've done so much for us," he said, the consumate politician under his age.
"There were some rumours that you saw one."
"I didn't."
"Oh?" she frowned. "There were rumours that during your last meeting, you took a device onto the ship with you specifically to see them?"
"It failed," he said, regretfully. "I saw nothing."
"A shame," she said, dismissing the comment as the Path required. "You worked with them for years. What did you think of them?"
"It is well known, though you might be a little young to have read it. I only spoke to one, Karellen." The name of the Overseer, the ostensible head of the Overlords was known to everyone on Earth. It was the only one of his kind's who was.
"How did he seem to you? The old man stretched his bad leg out, smiled reminescently.
"A friend. You know they saved me when I was kidnapped?" She nodded, the next step on her Path. It was why he hadn't needed any of the security she would have expected for a head of state no matter how retired.
"It is famous. So, back to the question, how would you describe Karellen?"
"Intelligent." He paused, thinking. "A planner." That description could match anyone in the position of power, but there was only one more step on the Path. She took it.
"And personally?" She smiled, and he matched her expression.
"Personally? Friendly." He grinned. "A tolerance, a humorous affection for us little creatures below."
And in Fortuna's mind, an echo of memory whispered in sheer, numb, horror:
Above all, it had looked kind...