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"I'll brood if I want to," he says. "I didn't ever really get a chance to say goodbye to Pam, did I? Not after that time in Paris when the gangsters …" He shrugs. "I'm getting nostalgic in my old age." He snorts.

"You're not the only one," A

"That's the trouble with this damned polity." Manfred takes another gulp of hefeweisen. "We've already got six million people living on this planet, and it's growing like the first-generation Internet. Everyone who is anyone knows everyone, but there are so many incomers diluting the mix and not knowing that there is a small world network here that everything is up for grabs again after only a couple of megaseconds. New networks form, and we don't even know they exist until they sprout a political agenda and surface under us. We're acting under time pressure. If we don't get things rolling now, we'll never be able to …" He shakes his head. "It wasn't like this for you in Brussels, was it?"

"No. Brussels was a mature system. And I had Gia

"Democracy 2.0." He shudders briefly. "I'm not sure about the validity of voting projects at all, these days. The assumption that all people are of equal importance seems frighteningly obsolescent. Do you think we can make this fly?"

"I don't see why not. If Amber's willing to play the People's Princess for us …" A

"I'm not sure it's workable, however we play it." Manfred looks thoughtful. "The whole democratic participation thing looks questionable to me under these circumstances. We're under direct threat, for all that it's a long-term one, and this whole culture is in danger of turning into a classical nation-state. Or worse, several of them layered on top of one another with complete geographical collocation but no social interpenetration. I'm not certain it's a good idea to try to steer something like that – pieces might break off, you'd get the most unpleasant side-effects. Although, on the other hand, if we can mobilize enough broad support to become the first visible planetwide polity …"

"We need you to stay focused," A

"Focused? Me?" He laughs, briefly. "I used to have an idea a second. Now it's maybe one a year. I'm just a melancholy old birdbrain, me."

"Yes, but you know the old saying? The fox has many ideas – the hedgehog has only one, but it's a big idea."

"So tell me, what is my big idea?" Manfred leans forward, one elbow on the table, one eye focused on i

"I think —" A

Manfred blinks. A slim young guy, moving with adolescent grace, but none of the awkward movements and sullen lack of poise – he's much older than he looks, chickenhawk genetics. Gia

The gilded youth, incarnated in the image of a metropolitan toy-boy from the noughties, grins widely and embraces Manfred with a friendly bear hug. Then he slides down onto the bench next to A

"You're resimulated?" Manfred asks, unable to stop himself.

A



"Oh." Manfred shakes his head. "I'm sorry —"

"It's okay." Gia

"It was time to move and, well, the old body didn't want to move with me, so why not go gracefully and accept the inevitable?"

"I didn't take you for a dualist," Manfred says ruefully.

"Ah, I'm not – but neither am I reckless." Gia

"You invited him?" Manfred asks A

"Why wouldn't I?" There's a wicked gleam in her eye. "Did you expect me to live like a nun while you were a flock of pigeons? We may have campaigned against the legal death of the transubstantiated, Manfred, but there are limits."

Manfred looks between them, then shrugs, embarrassed. "I'm still getting used to being human again," he admits. "Give me time to catch up? At an emotional level, at least." The realization that Gia

Gia

Manfred gives him a long stare. "The whole idea of ru

"But if we run away, we are still going to be there. Sooner or later, we'll have the same problem all over again; runaway intelligence augmentation, self-expression, engineered intelligences, whatever. Possibly that's what happened out past the Böotes void – not a galactic-scale civilization, but a race of pathological cowards fleeing their own exponential transcendence. We carry the seeds of a singularity with us wherever we go, and if we try to excise those seeds, we cease to be human, don't we? So … maybe you can tell me what you think we should do. Hmm?"

"It's a dilemma." A waitron inserts itself into their privacy-screened field of view. It plants a spun-diamond glass in front of Gia