turned to him and leaned toward him and away from the console and said, "Time for grub." and there was none of the joviality in his voice. It was tired now, with the rest of him. Outside he could hear the hissing chorus of air pockets departing the storage hatches that opened along the tower and the whir of the drones housed behind them fluttering out. On the hardlight monitors he saw the ornithopters buzz frantically about and then settle in new places to bellow commands at a new pack of inmates that shuffled forward silently.
Leargam rose from his Maglev chair and Tezac with him. The rookie followed the man who went stocky and pale beside him to the door. It opened at their presence and they went out onto the narrow trestle beyond and had thus begun to retrace Tezac's steps to the barracks. But he knew not where the prisoners went somewhere behind him and feared that he might never know, though out of sight and out of mind must have been a thing pined for there. But for him it was the seeing and the minding and the doing of the thing that made the thing not so bad. And it was idleness that made for bad things.
Day 4
Tezac bent double over the bowl of Nutripaste set before him and gripped the edges of the table and shook his head sharply.
"You alright?" Leargam asked, pointed at him with his spoon. "Or is the couisine not to your liking?"
"Preservifluid." Was all the man across from him could say, who took a deep breath through his nose before straightening up again.
"They're still pumping that shit into you boys, huh?" Leargam said and dove back into the grey putty of his meal and shook his head at it. "Well it is a simple fix to complex living."
"It's cheap and it's quick. Fine for the Mini stry, and even better for BiotiCorp." He said and tensed again, closed his eyes. "But you never get used to it."
"And you've had enough to get used to it."
"Virtuous Order." Tezac said and waited a moment for another pang and when it did not come he picked up his spoon from the table. "Twenty-seven years. Give or take. Most of it in stasis."
"Well I'll be fucked," Leargam said and swallowed another moutful. "I'm sitting with a living breathing Lord-Knight. Not that I needed you to tell me, your size and all. And not a scratch on him too, fighting like that in those wars. Impressive."
"Not entirely." Tezac said and raised his right hand to him before passing his spoon into its fingers.
"Cybernetic?"
"Wrist-down."
"Cut off or shot off?"
It seemed to Tezac as though he had the practiced air of one used to asking such questions. Of one who had made such commentary before and perhaps had sat where he had sat then and making it a hundred times. The only constant in a hundred lifetimes, populated by the remains of expectation. And the man before him now did not enjoy being only the next, only the last in a long unfortunate line.
"Cut off." Tezac said. "Clean. Raylic warblade. Organic, self-producing acid."
"Rayl," Leargam said and chuckled as he swallowed again, but there was no mirth. "Man the stories I head about that swamp-covered shithole."
"Did you serve?"
"Me? No."
"And you weren't conscripted?"
"I was way out here when it broke that another Reclamation was brewing. Back when this place was just a backwater mining operation, and all we had to deal with was a few smugglers. Then the Concilium ships touched down and that was that. Pay was good. Hell, better than what we were hauling ourselves. So most of us stayed on. You going to eat that?"
"Not hungry." Tezac said and pushed the bowl away. "What the hells is it?"
"Nutripaste. Bioticorp's latest invention. Didn't they feed you this edible waste?"
"Intravenuous Preservifluid flow." He said, inspecting a spoonful of the muck that refused to fall away back into the bowl. "STIM cockstails when morale was low."
"That's why this is free." Leargam said and scooped out what was left of his own into a soupy mass that made Tezac's stomach churn.
Leargam rose from his Maglev chair and Tezac with him. The rookie followed the man who went stocky and pale beside him to the door. It opened at their presence and they went out onto the narrow trestle beyond and had thus begun to retrace Tezac's steps to the barracks. But he knew not where the prisoners went somewhere behind him and feared that he might never know, though out of sight and out of mind must have been a thing pined for there. But for him it was the seeing and the minding and the doing of the thing that made the thing not so bad. And it was idleness that made for bad things.
Day 4
Tezac bent double over the bowl of Nutripaste set before him and gripped the edges of the table and shook his head sharply.
"You alright?" Leargam asked, pointed at him with his spoon. "Or is the couisine not to your liking?"
"Preservifluid." Was all the man across from him could say, who took a deep breath through his nose before straightening up again.
"They're still pumping that shit into you boys, huh?" Leargam said and dove back into the grey putty of his meal and shook his head at it. "Well it is a simple fix to complex living."
"It's cheap and it's quick. Fine for the Mini stry, and even better for BiotiCorp." He said and tensed again, closed his eyes. "But you never get used to it."
"And you've had enough to get used to it."
"Virtuous Order." Tezac said and waited a moment for another pang and when it did not come he picked up his spoon from the table. "Twenty-seven years. Give or take. Most of it in stasis."
"Well I'll be fucked," Leargam said and swallowed another moutful. "I'm sitting with a living breathing Lord-Knight. Not that I needed you to tell me, your size and all. And not a scratch on him too, fighting like that in those wars. Impressive."
"Not entirely." Tezac said and raised his right hand to him before passing his spoon into its fingers.
"Cybernetic?"
"Wrist-down."
"Cut off or shot off?"
It seemed to Tezac as though he had the practiced air of one used to asking such questions. Of one who had made such commentary before and perhaps had sat where he had sat then and making it a hundred times. The only constant in a hundred lifetimes, populated by the remains of expectation. And the man before him now did not enjoy being only the next, only the last in a long unfortunate line.
"Cut off." Tezac said. "Clean. Raylic warblade. Organic, self-producing acid."
"Rayl," Leargam said and chuckled as he swallowed again, but there was no mirth. "Man the stories I head about that swamp-covered shithole."
"Did you serve?"
"Me? No."
"And you weren't conscripted?"
"I was way out here when it broke that another Reclamation was brewing. Back when this place was just a backwater mining operation, and all we had to deal with was a few smugglers. Then the Concilium ships touched down and that was that. Pay was good. Hell, better than what we were hauling ourselves. So most of us stayed on. You going to eat that?"
"Not hungry." Tezac said and pushed the bowl away. "What the hells is it?"
"Nutripaste. Bioticorp's latest invention. Didn't they feed you this edible waste?"
"Intravenuous Preservifluid flow." He said, inspecting a spoonful of the muck that refused to fall away back into the bowl. "STIM cockstails when morale was low."
"That's why this is free." Leargam said and scooped out what was left of his own into a soupy mass that made Tezac's stomach churn.
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