The simulated sunlight and birdsong are convincing today, especially to someone who has lived with the real thing. It makes him wonder if he’s been away from planets too long. He does nine more documents before dipping into the fish food again. At least the fish are real. The plaque says Cyprinus rubrofuscus, which is Chinese carp, or koi. These ones are first-generation from Earth and twenty-two years old – about as old as Lawrence’s daughter, Joké. He returns to the boring work. Though they are legal documents, amendments to by-laws and eyes-only acknowledgements, he does not read before signing. They can’t change them without his authorisation, although he is never consulted on the actual changes. Ceremonial guy.

He is meant to be here with Joké, but she doesn’t show. This is not unusual for her, and the reason he brought fish food with him. He finds himself renewed by the carp. Cheaper than a massage, easier than therapy. He gets a notification for a meeting with Beko. Odiferous Beko. The only thing Lawrence finds more boring than a meeting with Beko is document ratification.

This meeting invitation seems more insistent than others, making Lawrence wonder what the problem is. The sky has not fallen, or he would have heard about it. The integrity is good, the miners aren’t on strike, otherwise, the news feed would have told him. Lagos is not at war with anyone – not that they ever have been, but you never know. So far, war has been restricted to the home planet, Earth. No wars in the Brink, and all the systems would like to keep it that way. No huffing and puffing, no brinksmanship, no posturing; remarkable for Homo sapiens, really. If only they behaved that way on Earth. Lawrence has attended the congresses, and he agrees with their wishes broadly, but he knows that war is one of those inevitabilities like cancer or an asteroid strike. Most Lagosians don’t feel that way, but most Lagosians have never left the space station.

His IFC pulses with the need to respond, but Lawrence hesitates. He watches the carp and, when the urge comes upon him, feeds them from the bag. Not many people come to this level any more, and the signage is in Yoruba and English. Most of the people on Lagos are spaceborn, Generations of the Brink. The Earth language Yoruba is still prevalent, along with French, Arabic, Cantonese and Mandarin. Lawrence himself speaks Yoruba, pestered by parents who half-remembered and supplemented their knowledge with network feeds. Lawrence is the only one of his family to have visited Lagos – the original Lagos, in Nigeria, on Earth – where they laughed at his space-learned Yoruba and took him to parties and clubs every night of the week he spent there. Lawrence tells people he’s from Earth, but it isn’t true.

Lawrence grew up in the Waikiki system, on a planet called Skeem.