Read Online Deadly Relations: Bester Ascendant by J. Gregory Keyes - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: J. Gregory Keyes
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second,” Milla grumbled.
“We could have taken them all. What’s the point of having superior brains if we can’t use them?”
“Because that would be selfish,” AI muttered.
“We’re supposed to protect and serve, not use our powers to satisfy our own needs.”
“You believe that?”
AI looked up at her, startled. Not so much that she had thought it, but that she had said it.
“Yes,” he replied. “We’re supposed to protect and serve guys like Antoine? Give me a break.”
“Look it up,” Al said.
“It’s in the handbook.”
“Normals wrote the handbook, Al.”
“The Corps wrote the handbook. The rules are good.”
I just screwed up, he thought. I could have taken him. Next time… He sighed. He had already replayed the fight in his head a hundred times. It wasn’t helping. What stayed with him was the sick feeling of fear, the awful realization that there was a real difference between facing someone on the dojo floor and facing someone who really wanted to hurt you. The physical blows hadn’t really damaged him - he doubted that he would even bruise. But the memory of his fear was like a dead star in his belly, and everything in him was falling into it. He looked up at Brett.
“Anyway, thank you.” He hated saying it.
“We have to hang together,” Brett said. “Cadre Prime.”
Al remembered his boast, earlier that day, about Cadre Prime being able to handle anything, and Brett’s remark about how they must be invincible if they had Al Bester, winner of the Karges award, along with them. The dead star ate another bite, and Al suddenly felt queasy.
“I’m going for a walk,” he murmured.
“I’ll be back soon.”
He wound his way up through the trees, skirting the edge of a twilight meadow, found a spot in the violet-brocaded field and lay on his back, watching a cloud skewered by twin contrails with dull eyes. It was vaguely heart-shaped, salmon bruised mauve by the shadow of the Earth crushing down upon it. For a moment he felt absolutely still, and there were no voices at all.
He experienced an unexpected, melancholy peace, watching the sky fade. His body felt heavy, as if he were becoming stone, and as he petrified he could sense the ponderous, slow wheeling of the Earth through space. He had lost track of time, somewhat hypnotized by the feeling, when he heard voices near, hushed ones, whispering. The sounds were too faint, but he knew from their surface thoughts that it was Brett and Julia. They were excited about something.
Looking for him? Worried?
He closed his eyes, trying to get them clearer, and suddenly - Warm lips, pressing against his, and arms reaching around. A body, prickly - warm, slim, a joy in the arms, breath tickling against his neck… He shut it out, blocked and locked, returning to a now artificial silence. Julia and Brett. Of course. The stars came out, and still he didn’t move or relax his blocks.
He did not want to feel, even for an instant, what he had just felt or what might follow. He waited until he was sure, as the air chilled, and his rock body lost even its Human warmth. Finally, tentatively, he opened again, blessedly to silence. Feeling sore and weary, he stood and made his way back toward camp. He stopped when he saw the firelight.
They were all there, their faces picked out in fine detail, even at this distance, like a faraway painting by a Dutch master. They were smiling and laughing, and he could sense something emanating from them. He tightened his control, and suddenly knew beauty. He could never explain it to a normal. He could barely explain it to himself. He could sense the signature of each individual, but there was something more, a tapestry of thought and feeling they wove together, impossibly intricate and familiar.
Like the mants they had done as kids, but infinitely more complex, more practiced, and yet at the same time more natural. They were different, each of them, but they were also one in the thing they created
“We could have taken them all. What’s the point of having superior brains if we can’t use them?”
“Because that would be selfish,” AI muttered.
“We’re supposed to protect and serve, not use our powers to satisfy our own needs.”
“You believe that?”
AI looked up at her, startled. Not so much that she had thought it, but that she had said it.
“Yes,” he replied. “We’re supposed to protect and serve guys like Antoine? Give me a break.”
“Look it up,” Al said.
“It’s in the handbook.”
“Normals wrote the handbook, Al.”
“The Corps wrote the handbook. The rules are good.”
I just screwed up, he thought. I could have taken him. Next time… He sighed. He had already replayed the fight in his head a hundred times. It wasn’t helping. What stayed with him was the sick feeling of fear, the awful realization that there was a real difference between facing someone on the dojo floor and facing someone who really wanted to hurt you. The physical blows hadn’t really damaged him - he doubted that he would even bruise. But the memory of his fear was like a dead star in his belly, and everything in him was falling into it. He looked up at Brett.
“Anyway, thank you.” He hated saying it.
“We have to hang together,” Brett said. “Cadre Prime.”
Al remembered his boast, earlier that day, about Cadre Prime being able to handle anything, and Brett’s remark about how they must be invincible if they had Al Bester, winner of the Karges award, along with them. The dead star ate another bite, and Al suddenly felt queasy.
“I’m going for a walk,” he murmured.
“I’ll be back soon.”
He wound his way up through the trees, skirting the edge of a twilight meadow, found a spot in the violet-brocaded field and lay on his back, watching a cloud skewered by twin contrails with dull eyes. It was vaguely heart-shaped, salmon bruised mauve by the shadow of the Earth crushing down upon it. For a moment he felt absolutely still, and there were no voices at all.
He experienced an unexpected, melancholy peace, watching the sky fade. His body felt heavy, as if he were becoming stone, and as he petrified he could sense the ponderous, slow wheeling of the Earth through space. He had lost track of time, somewhat hypnotized by the feeling, when he heard voices near, hushed ones, whispering. The sounds were too faint, but he knew from their surface thoughts that it was Brett and Julia. They were excited about something.
Looking for him? Worried?
He closed his eyes, trying to get them clearer, and suddenly - Warm lips, pressing against his, and arms reaching around. A body, prickly - warm, slim, a joy in the arms, breath tickling against his neck… He shut it out, blocked and locked, returning to a now artificial silence. Julia and Brett. Of course. The stars came out, and still he didn’t move or relax his blocks.
He did not want to feel, even for an instant, what he had just felt or what might follow. He waited until he was sure, as the air chilled, and his rock body lost even its Human warmth. Finally, tentatively, he opened again, blessedly to silence. Feeling sore and weary, he stood and made his way back toward camp. He stopped when he saw the firelight.
They were all there, their faces picked out in fine detail, even at this distance, like a faraway painting by a Dutch master. They were smiling and laughing, and he could sense something emanating from them. He tightened his control, and suddenly knew beauty. He could never explain it to a normal. He could barely explain it to himself. He could sense the signature of each individual, but there was something more, a tapestry of thought and feeling they wove together, impossibly intricate and familiar.
Like the mants they had done as kids, but infinitely more complex, more practiced, and yet at the same time more natural. They were different, each of them, but they were also one in the thing they created
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