His name was Tomas Kensington. His girlfriend had ended the relationship because he seemed a little clingy, and he decided that shooting a well-known pacifist and proving that violence can change the world would impress her enough to change her mind.
My little public talks were getting somewhat bigger audiences, and Badi had called once or twice to ask me to tone down the anti-Earth rhetoric, but it never occurred to me that I was becoming “famous” until I stared down the barrel of Mr. Kensington’s weapon. Assassins don’t target the obscure.
“I never said you can’t change the world with violence, did I?” I said once my nerves had settled down enough to process what I was hearing.
“Violence doesn’t settle anything, because even if you kill the person you can’t kill their beliefs – I guess that’s a way of saying it can’t change the world,” Buffalo said, rubbing my shoulders to relieve them of the tight knots of terror.
“It can’t change the world for the better,” said the large man who by now had introduced himself as John Hemlock.
“It can win you some championships,” Buffalo said with an admiring tone. She apparently had heard about this man and his prowess on the field.
“Thank you,” he rasped. “But you need to leave the violence on the field – it can’t help you out here. Only peace can do that.”
“I appreciate your choosing this night of all nights to come hear me speak,” I told him. “You have impeccable timing.”
“It’s not my timing at all,” John Hemlock smiled. “But I didn’t come just to listen. You have a lot to say, and you need to be saying it so that people can hear and think about it. Can’t do that if you’re dead. I heard you lots of times on the link and read some of what you’re saying, and I came to Sirius 4 to see how I can help. I’m offering to be your bodyguard.”
“My –!? Oh, come on.”
“You obviously needed one tonight. You need someone to take the next bullet if it ever comes – and it might.”
Something about the night – the attempt on my life, the miraculous appearance of a rescuer, and now this offer – turned a switch inside me.
Entry 25. The day of the I-Bomb
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