The blinds were broken; there was no way to keep the search-lights from flooding into the room. They would blind you if you were facing the window at the wrong time, flashing through the missing slats, whiter and brighter than the sun. The Blimp was far enough away that its continuous blaring message could not be heard. But as the search-lights illuminated the room, Larry could hear the mantra in his head. "A new life awaits you," it always, always said, "in the off-world colonies!"
"Maybe when we get off-world, we should stay there," Larry said. With two fingers he pushed the blinds open a crack and peered out at the Blimp.
"No," said Bono. "I'm tired of seeing people get off the planet as soon as they get rich or famous. Maybe Earth is a rat-hole, but it's where we were born. It's our planet, and we should stay here. Earth is never going to get better if everyone just leaves."
"Earth is never going to be like it was," Larry said. "Maybe we should forget it, and start over somewhere else. I mean we, humans."
Bono got up from the stained, dusty sofa to stand next to Larry at the window. "Promise me," he said, "that when we're done playing off-word, you'll come home with us. Promise me you won't decide to stay."
Someone was knocking on the door. Bono went to unlock it, without checking the peephole. It was Paul, and behind him Edge and Adam.
"Lads," said Paul, "I have some distressing news." He had a sheet of onionskin carbon in his hand. "We're not going to be allowed to tour off-world. There was a…discovery, when they were reviewing our personal files for approval. It seems that one member of U2 is a replicant."
Each of the four boys looked at one another.
"Which one of you lot is a replicant?" Larry spat.
"Well, it's not me," said Adam.
"It's not me!" said Bono. They looked at Edge.
"Aw, come one you guys," Edge flinched. "I'm not a replicant."
Larry shrugged. "You're the one with the missing papers. We couldn't even go to America because you don't have a birth document."
Edge had had it with this particular topic. "I have explained to you, my birth document was destroyed during the War. There was a fire ---"
"Gentlemen!" Paul interrupted. "Everyone needs to calm down. It doesn't matter which one of you it is."
Larry reached for the carbon sheet. "Well, which one does this say it is?"
"It doesn't specify. This is not an official document. The police would never have given us a warning like this." Paul lowered his voice. "I have a friend who intercepted this transmission from an Aeroflot rocket station. A blade runner is on his way here to retire the replicant. But there's still time. The blade runner won't be here until morning. I'm going to try arranging an off-world transport. Not for the tour, but to hide."
The Blimp was closer now; as they stood there, silent, they could hear, faintly, its promises of a better life in the off-world colonies.
"I will come get you lads when the transport is ready. In the meantime, I suggest you pack your things. And try to get some sleep." With that, Paul left.
Adam spoke first, as soon as the door was shut. "I always thought there was something different about you, Edge," he said, but his tone was benign, as though it made no difference to him that Edge wasn't human.
"Why didn't you tell us you were a replicant?" Larry barked. "Did you think you could keep it a secret?"
"I'm not a replicant! Just because I lost my papers doesn't mean I'm not human! A lot of people lost their papers during the War!"
"Yeah, but no Irish people," Larry said. "No one dropped any bombs here."
"But I wasn't born here! I was born…off-world…" Edge stopped, blinked, swallowed. He had just convinced them. Now their surprise was gone, and they were all looking at him with contempt. With pity. Even if they couldn't get off-world, even if they were caught, the blade runner would only want him. His bandmates didn't want to hear any more about his missing papers. They were already thinking about how soon they could find a new guitarist.
*****
In the middle of the night, Bono came to Edge's door. It swung open slowly, creaking, as he put his knuckles on it. He walked right in. Edge was reading a pre-colonial book. It had a picture of a dragon on the dust jacket. When he heard Bono come in, he looked up expectantly.
"I don't care if you're a replicant," Bono said. "That doesn't change the way I feel about you."
Edge put the book away and invited Bono onto the bed. Bono was already getting out of his clothes. The sputtering lamp-light made everything in the room a sickly yellow. Bono and Edge were accustomed to this; yellow sheets, yellow skin. It was cold. Edge pulled the blanket over them.
"What do you want to do?" Edge asked.
"Everything," Bono said. "This could be our last night together."
"It's illegal to copulate with a replicant," Edge said.
"I know," said Bono. He put his hands on Edge's naked body, and thought about circuits, diodes. He knew these things were not inside Edge. They hadn't made androids like that in years. Edge had blood and viscera, just like a human. But still, Bono thought of those things. A blinking light. A circuit.
*****
Dawn had not yet broken. Orange flood-lights illuminated the launch pad. Everyone was harshly, blearily awake.
The wind was blowing hard, a falsetto accompaniment to the bass of the transport's exhaust draft. They all had to shout. No one heard the spinner land behind them. A blade runner got out. He had one hand in the pocket of his coat.
"Freeze!' he shouted, and only then did anyone notice him. Adam had only taken one step on the long ramp to the transport. The rest were behind him. Everyone dropped their bags and put their hands up.
The wind blew the blade runner's hair in every direction. He squinted. "Which one of you is Paul Hewson!?"
No one moved.
"I said which one of you is Paul Hewson!?"
Larry took a deep breath. "Run," he said, and they took off in different directions. Adam went north, to the hangar. Larry dashed east, into the sparse remains of the forest. Bono would not be parted from Edge, and followed him west, towards the city.
No one knew who the blade runner chose to follow. No one looked back. Bono and Edge darted through the city streets, down alleys, behind dumpsters. When they spotted an apartment building, its door hanging open, they ducked inside. The floor was strewn with garbage. The elevator didn't work.
"Do you think anyone lives in this one?"
Edge looked around the lobby. He recognized the dilapidated décor, from a pre-colonial picture-book he'd read. The building was Georgian. "Maybe," he said. "Most of the apartments in the city have at least a few people left in them."
They climbed the stairs, and picked a room at random. It was hopeless, now. Even if the blade runner didn't find them today, he'd catch them before they ever found Adam and Larry.
In the far corner of the room was an overturned table. They crawled behind it and covered themselves in newspapers. "I'm not a replicant," Bono said as they waited. "I've got photographs. I remember when they were taken. You know, when my family went to the beach. You've seen those photographs."
"And where is your family now?"
"Well, they're gone. I told you about that. How there was an accident." He sat very still for a moment, thinking about this. Suddenly he grabbed Edge by his shirt. "You knew! You've known all along that I was the replicant!"
Edge closed his eyes. "I never told you because I thought you'd be a better singer if you believed you were human."
Bono had to speak up, to be heard over the sound of the Blimp, flying nearby. "How did you know? Who else knows?"
"Paul might have known."
"How did I get to Earth?"
Edge shrugged. "It was before we met."
"I must be human. How could I not be human?" Bono was clinging to Edge now, and his words were muffled. "But, if I'm a replicant…" He looked at the floor. "They have in-built life-spans. How much time do I have? Do you know? I might only have a few months to live! Or days!"
"Oh, shorter than that," said the blade runner. He was standing in the doorway.