Read Online Asimov's Science Fiction: June 2013 by Penny Publications - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Penny Publications
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would surprise everyone, including the captain who let them roam.
The peace had held for months.
But Pamir had been strangled and packed away with the luggage, and every day, without fail, he considered the smart clean solution to his worries. Three minutes, and the problem would be finished, with minimal fuss.
Kill the crew before they killed him.
Temporarily murder them, of course.
But those cold solutions had to be avoided. Despite temptations, he clung to the idea that kindness and compassion were the paths to prove your sanity.
Everybody seemed to hold that opinion. G'lene still flirted with the only available man. Maxx offered to drink heavily with his friend Jon, once his hard work was done. And just last week, his sister tried defining herself to this tyrannical captain: Rondie and her brother shared very weak but wealthy parents. They had wanted strong children. Genes were tweaked, giving both of them muscles and strong attitudes. Rondie said that she was beautiful even if nobody else thought so. She said that her parents had wisely kept their wealth away from their children, which was why they joined the military. And then in the next breath, the girl confessed to hating those two ageless shits for being so wise and looking out for their souls.
At that point she laughed. Pamir couldn't tell at whom.
He said, "In parts of the multiverse, both of you are weak and happy."
"A Luddite perspective," she said.
"It is," he agreed.
"Who are you really?" she asked.
"I'm you in some other realm."
"What does that mean?"
"Think," he said, liking the notion then and liking it more as he let it percolate inside his old mind.
That was a good day, and so far this day had proved ordinary.
The twins slept, but that didn't keep them from conversing—secret words bouncing between each other's dreams. Tailor was on a high platform, muttering old words that his translator didn't understand. G'lene was the quiet one. She studied. She fell asleep. Then she was awake and reading again, and that was when the pulse engine fell silent.
Pamir lifted from the gangway. Then he caught himself and strapped his body down, focusing on the white-hot shard of hyperfiber before him.
The airlock opened.
He didn't notice.
Three average people, working in concert, could easily outthink the weary fugitive. Pamir saw nothing except what his eyes saw and what the compromised sensors fed to him. The twins slept, and while studying, G'lene played with herself. Pamir looked away, but not because of politeness. At this point, those other bodies were as familiar and forgettable as his. No, his eyes and focus returned to the brilliant slip of hyperfiber that had almost, almost achieved perfection.
From a distant part of the cabin, Tailor called out.
The shout was a warning, or he was giving orders. Or maybe this was just another old word trying to subvert the security system, and it didn't matter in the end.
The ex-soldiers had cobbled together several shop torches, creating two weak plasma guns. The first blast struck Pamir in his left arm, and then he had no arm. But Maxx had responsibility for the captain's right arm, and the boy tried too hard to save the plasma gun. Wounded, Pamir spun as the second blue-white blast peeled back the life-suit's skin, scorching his shoulder but leaving his right hand and elbow alive.
Quietly and deliberately, Pamir aimed with care and then fired.
Charged and capable, his weapon could have melted the ship's flank. But it was set for small jobs, and killing two muscular humans was a very small thing.
The first blast hit Rondie in her middle, legs separating from her arms and chest. Cooked blood exploded into the frigid vacuum while the big pieces scattered. Maxx dove into the blood cloud to hide, and he fired his gun before it could charge again, accomplishing nothing but showing the universe where he was hiding.
Pamir turned two arms into ash and a gold-white light.
But where was G'lene?
Pamir spun and
The peace had held for months.
But Pamir had been strangled and packed away with the luggage, and every day, without fail, he considered the smart clean solution to his worries. Three minutes, and the problem would be finished, with minimal fuss.
Kill the crew before they killed him.
Temporarily murder them, of course.
But those cold solutions had to be avoided. Despite temptations, he clung to the idea that kindness and compassion were the paths to prove your sanity.
Everybody seemed to hold that opinion. G'lene still flirted with the only available man. Maxx offered to drink heavily with his friend Jon, once his hard work was done. And just last week, his sister tried defining herself to this tyrannical captain: Rondie and her brother shared very weak but wealthy parents. They had wanted strong children. Genes were tweaked, giving both of them muscles and strong attitudes. Rondie said that she was beautiful even if nobody else thought so. She said that her parents had wisely kept their wealth away from their children, which was why they joined the military. And then in the next breath, the girl confessed to hating those two ageless shits for being so wise and looking out for their souls.
At that point she laughed. Pamir couldn't tell at whom.
He said, "In parts of the multiverse, both of you are weak and happy."
"A Luddite perspective," she said.
"It is," he agreed.
"Who are you really?" she asked.
"I'm you in some other realm."
"What does that mean?"
"Think," he said, liking the notion then and liking it more as he let it percolate inside his old mind.
That was a good day, and so far this day had proved ordinary.
The twins slept, but that didn't keep them from conversing—secret words bouncing between each other's dreams. Tailor was on a high platform, muttering old words that his translator didn't understand. G'lene was the quiet one. She studied. She fell asleep. Then she was awake and reading again, and that was when the pulse engine fell silent.
Pamir lifted from the gangway. Then he caught himself and strapped his body down, focusing on the white-hot shard of hyperfiber before him.
The airlock opened.
He didn't notice.
Three average people, working in concert, could easily outthink the weary fugitive. Pamir saw nothing except what his eyes saw and what the compromised sensors fed to him. The twins slept, and while studying, G'lene played with herself. Pamir looked away, but not because of politeness. At this point, those other bodies were as familiar and forgettable as his. No, his eyes and focus returned to the brilliant slip of hyperfiber that had almost, almost achieved perfection.
From a distant part of the cabin, Tailor called out.
The shout was a warning, or he was giving orders. Or maybe this was just another old word trying to subvert the security system, and it didn't matter in the end.
The ex-soldiers had cobbled together several shop torches, creating two weak plasma guns. The first blast struck Pamir in his left arm, and then he had no arm. But Maxx had responsibility for the captain's right arm, and the boy tried too hard to save the plasma gun. Wounded, Pamir spun as the second blue-white blast peeled back the life-suit's skin, scorching his shoulder but leaving his right hand and elbow alive.
Quietly and deliberately, Pamir aimed with care and then fired.
Charged and capable, his weapon could have melted the ship's flank. But it was set for small jobs, and killing two muscular humans was a very small thing.
The first blast hit Rondie in her middle, legs separating from her arms and chest. Cooked blood exploded into the frigid vacuum while the big pieces scattered. Maxx dove into the blood cloud to hide, and he fired his gun before it could charge again, accomplishing nothing but showing the universe where he was hiding.
Pamir turned two arms into ash and a gold-white light.
But where was G'lene?
Pamir spun and
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