Read Online Final Solstice by David Sakmyster - Free Book Online Page B

matter her age. “Something that can wait.”
    Shelby frowned as Lauren wheeled up behind her and settled into the chair lift. “After pancakes?”
    “After pancakes,” Mason set, even as his phone kept vibrating.
    He risked a glance, expecting to see more about the tsunami, but apparently that wasn’t enough for this morning.
    Freak tornadoes rip through Minneapolis causing massive devastation. …
    And before he could read further, his phone rang.
    It was Pamela, and he knew what she wanted. They would be running a special, prepping him to talk about all this weather, giving his take, breaking down for their viewers what could cause such mayhem.
    He raised a finger and shook his head as he put the phone to his ear. “Sorry ladies, looks like I may have one last broadcast to make.”
    Going out with a bang.
    “Hi Pam,” he said somberly. “I saw, and I’ll be right in. But there’s something I have to tell you first.…”
    O O O
    The blue screen weatherboard switched off as Mason unclipped his earpiece and microphone.
    “So that’s it,” Pamela said, arms crossed over her chest, watching from behind the main camera. “It’s really your last one?”
    “I said I could stay on a bit, do a few more. But it’s Friday, and they want me to start.…”
    “Monday, I know.” Pamela looked at him sternly. “Well, we both know that this is it. An impassioned and well, damn impressive final broadcast. It was your swan song, and it was brilliant.”
    “But I didn’t say goodbye.”
    “Not in so many words, but you don’t need to. We’ll take it from here—or if you prefer, we can tape a quick segment where you sadly take your leave after profusely thanking your producer of twenty-four years, the one responsible for giving you a shot, and a name in this city, and …”
    “And the one who’s made me everything I am today, yeah yeah.” He sighed and handed over the mic and earpiece. Glanced around, and let his view fall once more on the blue screen. “I’m going to miss this place. And these people.” Turned to her and saw her eyes trembling. “You.”
    In a surprise move, trumping anything else he might have said, Pamela threw her arms around him in a crushing hug.
    “Oh just get out of here, go. Save the world, conquer the elements.” She backed away and stared into his eyes, locking them in place. “Become like Aeolus and bag the winds, bend them to your will like I know you can. I saw the potential in you. You don’t just predict the weather, you are the weather.”
    Mason chuckled nervously, and his skin prickled as if he were back on the Solstice rooftop before the storm. “I really am going to miss these pep talks, and your endless trove of anthropological tidbits, weather lore and mythology.”
    “Yeah well if you ever need a walking almanac, you’ve got my IM address.”
    “That I do.”
    Setting his station ID card in her open palm along with his mic, feeling like a detective handing in his badge and gun, he waved to the camera guys chewing gum and watching the scene with little more than their normal interest.
    “Now go save some lives or something,” Pamela added, looking away now to the news on the small screen at her console, where the replay of twin vortices were slamming into buildings and running wild down a modern street.
    We’re a long way from Kansas, Mason thought, still unable to get those images out of his head.
    “I always imagined you’d go into something bigger, Mason.” She was speaking now, as if from a long way off, reading from pages written ages ago. “The Storm Prevention Center, the World Meteorological Organization, or hell, maybe some top secret CIA weather control service like—what was that in the ’70s—Project Stormfury?”
    Mason risked a smile. “How do you know I haven’t been doing that all along, and this has just been my civilian cover?”
    She flashed a smile back to him. “Well, in any case, good luck. And oh, if your daughter ever gets