After Earth: A Perfect Beast by Peter David Michael Jan Friedman Robert Greenberger

response.
    Lyla felt better about that than she’d ever felt about anything in her life. Although talking to a dashing young cadet, actually
talking
to him, might come in a close second.
    “I used to play a little cageball myself,” he said. “My dad played it, too. He was better than I was. But I still liked it.”
    “You don’t play anymore?” Lyla asked.
    The cadet shook his head. “Too busy trying to be a Ranger.”
    There was something about the way he smiled, sort of joking but serious at the same time, that seemed familiar—even more so than his voice. Lyla got the feeling that she had met the cadet before.
    Then she thought,
No. A guy who looks like he does? I’d have remembered him without a doubt
.
    “Anyway,” he said, “my name’s Conner. Conner—”
    Oh, my God
, she thought.
    That was why he seemed familiar—because he
was
. Because he had been Lucas’s best friend when they were kids. Because he was the one who had had a boxing match with her brother right in the middle of their barracks.
    “Raige,” she said, interrupting him.
    He looked surprised. “Yeah. How did you know?”
    “I’m Lyla Kincaid,” she blurted. “That’s how.” Thenshe walked away as fast as she could even though Pietro would glance at her spot at some point and wonder what had happened to her.
    She would explain it to the kid later.
Conner Raige. Doesn’t it figure?
She had felt so comfortable talking to him, so at ease with herself. And out of everybody he could have been, everybody on the planet, he had turned out to be …
    Conner Raige
.
    “From time to time,” the Primus said, his voice echoing impressively, “the world gets remade. Sometimes it is done for us. Sometimes we do it ourselves. Back on Earth, we were foolish. We destroyed God’s creation, our home. But we were given a chance for redemption, brothers and sisters.”
    The Primus cast his gaze over his congregation. Most of the time, his goal was simply to comfort them so they were better equipped to face life’s trials. This time, he had an entirely different agenda in mind.
    “Before the Earth died, we were permitted to slip its bonds. But we needed to do so in an orderly way. The Rangers provided that order, and for half a millennium they have continued to provide it. Twice they repelled hostile forces that sought to cast us from this new world of ours, this second paradise. They have tended to the sick, to the injured, to the wronged. For that, we owe the Rangers a measure of thanks.
    “However, it is time to remake the world again. The hour of our need has come and gone. A more modest Ranger Corps is required to meet our more modest needs.”
    Rostropovich paused and let the words settle like fine incense over the crowd. His most trusted augurs were mixed in with the congregation. They led the murmurs of agreement. What was more, cameras and soundequipment were carrying his message from building to building, city to city.
    True, it was Trey Vander Meer who had unleashed the first salvo at Wilkins and the Rangers. But the Primus had known an opportunity when he saw one, and he would use it to expand his power as far as he could.
    After all, the Rangers had had their day. It was high time that Nova Prime embraced a different sort of leadership, one that focused on the spiritual rather than the mundane.
    “We still need a force,” he allowed, “to maintain the peace and ensure that the laws of this world are followed. We still need someone to protect the streets, inspect the goods being manufactured, and respond to natural disasters. But for these purposes, the size of the Ranger force is an untenable one.
    “A debate has sprung up among the people. Many say that the Rangers should be downsized, made more efficient. While no change has been made as yet, I have listened. I have heard from my augurs and from you, my brothers and sisters in faith.
    “I want to move the dialogue forward. That is why I suggest today that Prime Commander