He seemed so desperate that Carlotta gave in. She and Uncle James went

into a roped-off area just below and to the left of the platform.

Uncle James didn't seem to mind. He sat quietly, lost in dreams of G.o.d

knows what moment of antique heroism, while Carlotta, standing behind

his chair, kept one eye on his systems reports and took in the sights of

downtown San Francisco with the other, the huge tapering buildings, the

radiant blue sky, the unusual trees, the shining bridge stretching off to

the east.

Uncle James said suddenly, "What are all these foreigners doing here?"

"Foreigners? What foreigners?"

"Look around you, girl."

She thought at first that he meant people from the neighboring republics

and kingdoms: San Jose, Santa Cruz, Monterey, Mendocino. It wouldn't be

surprising that they'd be here, considering that this was a celebration

intended to commemorate the signing of the Armistice that had ended the

war of everybody against everybody and guaranteed the independence of

all the various Northern California nations. But how could Uncle James

tell a Santa Cruzian or a Montereyan from a San Franciscan? They didn't

look any different down there. They didn't dress any different.

Then she realized that he meant visitors from the countries beyond the

seas. And indeed there were plenty of them all around the plaza, a lot of

exotic people carrying cameras and such, j.a.panese, Indians, Latin

Americans, Africans. They were wearing exotic clothing, most of them. Many

had exotic faces. The old man was staring at them as though he had

never seen tourists before.

"San Francisco is always full of visitors from far away, Uncle. There's

nothing new about that."

"So many of them. Gawking at us like that. They dress like gooks,

girl. Didn't we fight that war to keep San Francisco for the San

Franciscans? A pure nation of pure people. Look at them all. Look at

them!"

"It's the most beautiful city in the world," Carlotta said. "People

have been coming from all over to see it for hundreds of years. You know

that. There's nothing wrong with-"