Free Foundation by Marco Guarda Page B

planet’s environmental integrity—who first realized that the uncontrolled toxic waste and the savage exploitation of the ores was destroying Meridian Island and contaminating Aquaria.
    Fearing that Aquaria would soon follow Earth’s destiny, the natural Aquarians founded a political party for the safeguard of the planet. They demanded a binding vote for the Aquarian administration to curb immigration first, and then to enforce strict regulations to stop waste production and force the companies to clean up both the land they had polluted and the water they had fouled.
    Strangely enough, there were more who cared for the blue planet than the big corporations thought and the vote passed with big numbers.
    The largest mining corporations shut down—it was more convenient to leave the planet than comply with the Aquarian directives. Many companies decided to move to the increasingly remunerative tour-operator business. “Expensive as an Aquarian cruise” had soon become a true-enough simile. It didn’t look like it at first, but people from all over the colonized planets were willing to pay good money for a glimpse or, even better, a close encounter with one of the many huge and bizarre marine dwellers of Aquaria.
    Time went by. By now, all Aquarians had become fervent environmentalists who believed in the sacredness and the uniqueness of their planet.
    Aquarian immigration policies were now possibly the strictest in the whole universe. Only selected individuals who were going to be an asset for Aquaria would be granted Aquarian citizenship.
    The rest could apply for a weekly visa.

    Trumaine moved past the rows of dark-blue stylish, high-backed chairs that were arranged on either side of the hall, arriving in front of a tall haughty-looking attendant wearing an aquamarine suit. The two spoke briefly, then the attendant motioned Trumaine to one of the many booths on the far wall, above which a caption read: Visa and Requests of Citizenship.
    With a resigned sigh, Trumaine queued up in a long line of applicants.
    Only now that Starshanna had gone for real had he realized how much he missed her. Even if he could see her anytime he wanted by summoning her on the large monitor he had installed in the living room for that purpose, it wasn’t the same thing as having her around; alive, sweet-smelling and warm between his arms. What worried him most was that she hadn’t been gone for a year, or a month; she’d been gone for one week.
    Trumaine looked at the clock hanging on the far wall. The second hand crawled along slower than a dozing snail, while the minute hand didn’t seem to move at all. When, at long last, it did, Trumaine thought an hour had gone by.

    He didn’t know exactly how many hours had passed since he had entered the embassy, but when the man in front of him had finished, Trumaine was relieved beyond telling and stepped forward eagerly.
    The clerk behind the booth was a perfect sample of what a natural Aquarian was: tall, strong, wide-shouldered and tight-waisted as only hard swimmers are. The clerk wore a tailored suit the color of bright silver woven with blue threads that, depending on the way the light fell on them, kept shifting from silver to blue.
    He held his fingertips joined in a sort of absent, meditating stance. He looked up, revealing dark-blue, inquisitive eyes, and smiled vaguely.
    “May I help you?” he asked with a supercilious note.
    Trumaine handed over the folder in his hands. The clerk took it and threw a fleeting glance at the first page.
    “May I inquire as to why you intend to become Aquarian?” he asked, giving Trumaine the once over.
    “Because of my wife. She works and lives on Aquaria as a marine biologist, but my marrying her has not made me an Aquarian.”
    “Indeed. Our immigration policies are very strict. As are our resources, Mr. Trumaine. We do evaluate carefully every single request we receive, before we can give out one more citizenship.”
    The clerk inspected the