Read Online Starlight(Pact Arcanum 4) by Arshad Ahsanuddin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Arshad Ahsanuddin
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will be nice to be able to talk to Antonio in the flesh. I know Layla has been looking forward to seeing him again for years.”
“So have I,” answered Revenant in his ears.
“It’s been a century. Have you given any thought to my suggestion?”
“I can’t tell them, Rory. I just can’t.”
Rory sighed. “I think you’re taking honor too far. Just because you promised to keep your existence a secret—”
“It’s not that,” said Revenant.
Rory cocked his head as he regarded the image of Toby and Layla, arm in arm. “What then? You know how much it would mean to Nick and Layla to be able to talk to you again, not to mention Antonio.”
“That’s just it, Rory. I am not Tobias Jameson. He’s dead. I was created to be a shadow of what he was, and I’ve had a long time to become my own person. I can’t offer them false hope by telling him that he survived. I made that decision as soon as the Nexus created me, and I won’t change my mind now.”
Rory took a deep breath and let it out. “All right. We’ll play it your way, but when they finally find out, they’re going to be pissed.”
“They won’t find out.”
Rory snorted. “Nothing stays secret forever. You should know that by now.”
“There’s no one left alive beside you and the Nexus who knows where I came from. I want to keep it that way.”
Lorcan moaned loudly from the next room. I guess sleep is overrated.
The AI laughed. “It sounds like you’re missing the party. You’d better get in there and take care of business.”
“Very funny,” said Rory. “This isn’t over, Revenant.” Then he walked out of the study, back toward the bedroom.
“Nothing ever is,” answered the AI.
C HAPTER 13
September 2141; Jumpvessel Singularity , interstellar void; two years later
Antonio Jameson stretched out in bed and looked at the window, watching the stars that were still visible through the coruscating glow of recursion drive. He was fit without being muscular, the bronze of his skin highlighting his shoulder-length, white hair. At ninety-nine years old, he looked like he was in his mid-twenties. His aging had slowed to a crawl since he reached physical maturity, gaining only a year over the course of each decade. Which was a plus, given the nine years of travel time between Chiron colony and the Solar system.
I don’t know how the Sentinels and humans can stand to emigrate either way, given their brief lifetimes. Armistice scientists were still working on the technology to put the mortal colonists in stasis for the length of the trip, but so far, the power demands of maintaining a temporal ward on top of environment and propulsion for that length of time remained prohibitive.
In the meantime, Antonio was the leader of a miniature city in flight, completely self-sufficient, and home to over thirty thousand inhabitants. During the flight, the entire population operated as members of the crew, and they all answered to him: human, Sentinel and Daywalker alike. There were no Nightwalkers, of course. The Children of Darkness were always denied passage out of the Solar system, in order to facilitate the Great Work.
Besides, it would have been too much of a burden on their fragile ecosystem to maintain a supply of bloodwine to feed them. It’s hard enough to keep up the rations for the Daywalkers, and they need to feed only once a month.
His own physical need for blood was even more limited, being more recreational than required, so he restricted himself to a small bottle on special occasions. He was a bit of a lightweight, though, and the indulgence always gave him a hangover the next day. Today was no exception.
He climbed out of bed and stumbled to the small washroom. He dug some painkillers out of the medicine cabinet and swallowed them dry. Then he splashed some water on his face and checked the virtual clock hovering to the side of the mirror. Ten minutes. He considered shaving, but decided not to bother. They
“So have I,” answered Revenant in his ears.
“It’s been a century. Have you given any thought to my suggestion?”
“I can’t tell them, Rory. I just can’t.”
Rory sighed. “I think you’re taking honor too far. Just because you promised to keep your existence a secret—”
“It’s not that,” said Revenant.
Rory cocked his head as he regarded the image of Toby and Layla, arm in arm. “What then? You know how much it would mean to Nick and Layla to be able to talk to you again, not to mention Antonio.”
“That’s just it, Rory. I am not Tobias Jameson. He’s dead. I was created to be a shadow of what he was, and I’ve had a long time to become my own person. I can’t offer them false hope by telling him that he survived. I made that decision as soon as the Nexus created me, and I won’t change my mind now.”
Rory took a deep breath and let it out. “All right. We’ll play it your way, but when they finally find out, they’re going to be pissed.”
“They won’t find out.”
Rory snorted. “Nothing stays secret forever. You should know that by now.”
“There’s no one left alive beside you and the Nexus who knows where I came from. I want to keep it that way.”
Lorcan moaned loudly from the next room. I guess sleep is overrated.
The AI laughed. “It sounds like you’re missing the party. You’d better get in there and take care of business.”
“Very funny,” said Rory. “This isn’t over, Revenant.” Then he walked out of the study, back toward the bedroom.
“Nothing ever is,” answered the AI.
C HAPTER 13
September 2141; Jumpvessel Singularity , interstellar void; two years later
Antonio Jameson stretched out in bed and looked at the window, watching the stars that were still visible through the coruscating glow of recursion drive. He was fit without being muscular, the bronze of his skin highlighting his shoulder-length, white hair. At ninety-nine years old, he looked like he was in his mid-twenties. His aging had slowed to a crawl since he reached physical maturity, gaining only a year over the course of each decade. Which was a plus, given the nine years of travel time between Chiron colony and the Solar system.
I don’t know how the Sentinels and humans can stand to emigrate either way, given their brief lifetimes. Armistice scientists were still working on the technology to put the mortal colonists in stasis for the length of the trip, but so far, the power demands of maintaining a temporal ward on top of environment and propulsion for that length of time remained prohibitive.
In the meantime, Antonio was the leader of a miniature city in flight, completely self-sufficient, and home to over thirty thousand inhabitants. During the flight, the entire population operated as members of the crew, and they all answered to him: human, Sentinel and Daywalker alike. There were no Nightwalkers, of course. The Children of Darkness were always denied passage out of the Solar system, in order to facilitate the Great Work.
Besides, it would have been too much of a burden on their fragile ecosystem to maintain a supply of bloodwine to feed them. It’s hard enough to keep up the rations for the Daywalkers, and they need to feed only once a month.
His own physical need for blood was even more limited, being more recreational than required, so he restricted himself to a small bottle on special occasions. He was a bit of a lightweight, though, and the indulgence always gave him a hangover the next day. Today was no exception.
He climbed out of bed and stumbled to the small washroom. He dug some painkillers out of the medicine cabinet and swallowed them dry. Then he splashed some water on his face and checked the virtual clock hovering to the side of the mirror. Ten minutes. He considered shaving, but decided not to bother. They
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