Read Online Final Reckoning: The Fate of Bester by J. Gregory Keyes - Free Book Online Page A

deal.”
    “So you aren’t throwing in the towel, after all.”
    “I suppose not.”
    He nodded.
    She rose, steadying herself with the table.
    “I suppose I’ll catch a few winks.”
    “Good night-or morning, rather.”
    “Yes. To you, too. And… thank you.”
    The words surprised him so much he didn’t know what to say. That seemed to happen to him a lot, talking to Louise. What had he done to be thanked for? Had he been sympathetic ? To a normal?
    He went back over the conversation in his head and realized that he had. What had made him do that? He would think about it later. Destroying and rebuilding Jem had taken a lot out of him. He would be more reasonable after a few hours’ rest.
     

     
    He woke with the remains of a headache, something like a hangover, but otherwise felt pretty well. He got up, splashed cold water on his face, and began to plan his day. Well, he was a reviewer, now. So he needed something to review.
    And something to review it on-a desktop AI or something of the sort. His pocket computer could take dictation, but somehow he felt he ought to use an old-fashioned keyboard, if not pen and paper.
    Over the years, writers had generally agreed that the disjunction created by the mediation of fingers between thoughts and the written word was necessary. Writing was a different form of communication than speaking, a different way of thinking-a more considered one. It looked as if the day was going to be a warm one, and all he had was his leather jacket and black pants. Another thing he needed to do something about: he needed to acquire a wardrobe.
    Louise was downstairs, already scrubbing the walls.
    “Ah. Good morning,” she said, taking in his outfit with an up-and-down glance.
    “I have some work clothes I think will fit you.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “You are going to help me fix all of this, aren’t you?”
    “I distinctly remember that I did not agree to help you,” he replied.
    “And I distinctly remember you talking me into staying here, which makes you responsible. So. Are you going to help or not?”
    He eyed the room distastefully.
    “I would rather not,” he replied.
    “Too bad. The clothes are on the counter over there.”
    “I have things to do.”
    “You can do them later.”
    “But…”
    Bester frowned.
     

     
    Up went the brush, down went the brush. Bester watched the thick paint streak over the grey beneath. At this rate, it would take him all day to paint a single wall.
    “You’ve never painted before,” Louise said.
    It wasn’t a question.
    “No, as a matter of fact. Am I doing it right?”
    “No. You use the brush to do the trim work, then roll the large sections.”
    “Trim work?”
    “Here.”
    She stepped over and took the brush from his hand, then knelt down next to him.
    “See? I’ve put tape on the floor next to the baseboard. Now I paint the baseboard, like so.”
    Her hair, caught up in a kerchief, smelled clean, and faintly of lavender. Also of paint-she had managed to coat a few hairs with it, despite her head-cover. He realized that it had been a long time since he had been so close to a woman.
    He hadn’t had much luck with women. As a boy he’d had a crush on a girl-another telepath in his cadre. He had unexpectedly come upon her and another boy, kissing, and had the unpleasant experience of psionically sharing the pleasure they got from one another.
    Later, as a cadet, he had truly fallen in love, with fiery Elizabeth Montoya, whose passion for him had nearly swept him away. But she hadn’t loved him enough-not enough to stay in the Corps with him. She had tried to go Blip, to run away, and he had been forced to turn her in. He had been so angry at her, for forcing him to do that.
    Now he felt nothing at all. He couldn’t even remember her face. The Corps had arranged a marriage, of course, a genetic match guaranteed to produce telepathic offspring. There had never been love there, though for a time he had thought there might be at