Read Online Lacuna: The Prelude to Eternity by David Adams - Free Book Online

capacity—then there’s a pronounced ostracisation that occurs from within their own community. It’s a dark part of the community and the culture there. If you’re arrested, that’s a compliment. They say you have ‘cred.’ What you really have, though, is a criminal record that further isolates you from society. It’s bullshit, frankly, how much American blacks venerate thug culture as something good, and because of it, they all suffer.”
    “Interesting,” said Liao. “I don’t know anything about that. I’ve always lived in very homogeneous societies.” She paused. He seemed frustrated, as though despite his protestations, that was something personal for him. “You okay?”
    “Yeah. I’m just worried about this new melting-pot city we’ve created. We have Chinese, we have Brazilians, we have Iranians, we have Americans… we have some South Koreans, a handful of Germans, scattered people from all over the EU, we have a few Australians, we have Israelis. We have so many people, languages, cultures… What are the long-term products of this? What negative cultural kinks are going to express themselves over the coming years, and how can we work on fixing them before they start?”
    It was a very interesting set of problems. “Maybe we need to start with… with something a little simpler. Toning down our now-antiquated national boundaries. There’s no China anymore. There’s no United States or EU or anything like that. We are all Humans. That’s all.”
    “I think that’s a noble ambition. I’m not sure everyone will be on board with it initially.”
    “The Chinese will be the hardest,” she said. Might as well get that out there first. “Americans have a strong national identity but it’s one that’s built on an artificial country made from the blood of the world; Chinese culture is heavily influenced by the Han ideal. Every beauty store in China, without fail, stocks skin-whitening cream. White skin is the ideal. There’s even a saying: ‘A woman can be ugly, as long as her skin is white . ’ It’s crazy.” A sly grin spread over her face. “I never really agreed with that.”
    James grinned back. “You don’t say.”
    “Fortunately, you have a lot more going for you than your skin colour.”
    He snickered. “Feel free to tell me more about how attractive I am.”
    She wanted to. She wanted to tell James how much he meant to her, but the words stuck in her throat. All she could think of were the burns on her face and body and her metal arm. He couldn’t love a half machine, half woman, could he?
    James’s expression changed, becoming more reserved. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’s just you and me to the end, right?”
    “You and me and the railguns,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. “That’s how it’s going to be.”
    “It is.” James’s sincerity was clear and forceful, but no matter how hard she tried, there were doubts.
    A device on James’s belt beeped. He read it, a frown crossing his features. “I should go,” he said. “Work, work.”
    She wanted to ask about Scarecrow , but Keller had been clear. “Take care,” she said, suddenly wishing he could stay longer.
    “I will.”
    And then she was alone again.

    She slept, woke, and then slept again—sixteen hours. When she woke again, she had a new visitor, Captain Anderson, his United States Navy uniform clean and well attended, grey hair stained green through the liquid. Despite his hair, Anderson always looked younger than she expected—his tan face had retained a youthful visage that Liao found remarkable—but she could have sworn the months had treated him like years. It was visible around his eyes. Something had been his burden.
    He seemed to study her with a quiet intensity that Liao did not understand.
    “Good morning,” he said, his quiet American Southern accent seeming to reverberate in the med-bay. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”
    “No apologies are necessary,” she