Read Online The Deep Link (The Ascendancy Trilogy Book 1) by Veronica Sicoe - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Veronica Sicoe
Ads: Link
banter,
oblivious of their hypocrisy, and I hate each and every one of them. If it
weren't for our common goal of taking out the TMC, I'd never willingly share
the same air supply with them. My hands start shaking and I press them flat
against my thighs.
I lower my eyes and make for the self-service food counter
running along the wall. I grab a casserole, pick up a vitamin juice, and some
cutlery. I make my way between the tables and see Denise and Viktor sitting
with two kids I don't know. So I head toward them.
"Pull your head out of your ass next time," Vik
tells the blond boy next to him. "It's just a simulation, but it's fucking
serious to me ."
The boy doesn't look older than fifteen. But he's
apparently training to become a combat pilot. He looks frail, sitting next to
mountain-sized Vik with his square shoulders, clean-shaved head, and
perpetually motor-oil stained fingers.
Did Vik always look like this? Did anything here look as
it does now? It's like I've landed in a parallel dimension, where things appear
the same but they're fundamentally different. Or maybe I'm the one who's
changed. I don't much like either prospect.
Denise gives me a hug. She's the only one who tried to
befriend me since I joined Preston's crew, apart from good old Jade. Didn't
work though. I don't feel close to anyone here. That's not likely to change
either, not with this link fucking with my mind.
I sit down.
"I hope Preston's not giving you a hard time,"
Vik says with a smile.
"Not yet."
I inspect the casserole in front of me. Protein extracts
and bio-engineered vegetable stew, with dry crackers and algae concentrate. I
don't think I'm hungry after all.
Denise is slurping a cream soup that looks like
gobbet-filled tar, and Vik is sipping something thick and yellow through a
straw. It reminds me of Dorylini blood. And there goes my attempt at breakfast.
"So how was it?" The blond boy leans over the
table to gawk at me. "The rumor mill here's already grinding stone. Let's
get the story from the source."
"I heard they experimented on you." The other
boy spreads a buck-toothed grin at me. "Is it true? They probe you?"
Denise scowls at them. "Don't, guys." But her
voice is meek. She's curious too.
Vik minds his own business, pretending not to pay
attention. But I know he's dying to hear it. They all are. Let the freak talk about her alien abduction.
"I heard they tortured you," Blondy says.
"Rigged your synet with some alien subroutine. But you hacked your way out
and ran."
Vik grunts at him. "Yeah, she ran all the way
here through space."
"The Ticks will definitely think you're a spy,"
Hamster-Face says from across the table. "They'll hunt you down and pick
you apart, cell by cell."
"Like they did to that Ashmore guy on Procyon,
remember? They'll process your body through the fungi food-farms to get rid of
all the evidence. And the colonists will have no idea what's in their
food!"
Vik slams his hand on the table. "So that's why you
scored so bad on target practice—your brain's full of shit."
"Stop it," Denise says. "Leave Taryn alone,
she's had a rough time."
"She doesn't need your help," Blondy throws
back. "She's an alien infiltrator. She can just kill us all if she
wants to."
"You're such an asshole," Denise says.
I stare down at my untouched food. Blondy has it all
wrong. I can't kill anyone if my life depended on it. I could try stabbing
people, but with my luck that'd just get me linked to everybody and my
head would explode.
'Scatterbrain', my post-mortem nickname.
My heart climbs into my throat, and my hands turn cold and
sweaty. "Let them speculate," I tell Denise, and rub my jittery
fingers under the table. "They can imagine whatever they like."
"I think there's a grain of truth in every
rumor," Hamster-Face says snottily.
"So it's true, then?" Blondy asks. "They
turned you?"
I try to think of some witty response, but my pulse is
drumming loudly in my ears. I shouldn't have come here. I'm not just
oblivious of their hypocrisy, and I hate each and every one of them. If it
weren't for our common goal of taking out the TMC, I'd never willingly share
the same air supply with them. My hands start shaking and I press them flat
against my thighs.
I lower my eyes and make for the self-service food counter
running along the wall. I grab a casserole, pick up a vitamin juice, and some
cutlery. I make my way between the tables and see Denise and Viktor sitting
with two kids I don't know. So I head toward them.
"Pull your head out of your ass next time," Vik
tells the blond boy next to him. "It's just a simulation, but it's fucking
serious to me ."
The boy doesn't look older than fifteen. But he's
apparently training to become a combat pilot. He looks frail, sitting next to
mountain-sized Vik with his square shoulders, clean-shaved head, and
perpetually motor-oil stained fingers.
Did Vik always look like this? Did anything here look as
it does now? It's like I've landed in a parallel dimension, where things appear
the same but they're fundamentally different. Or maybe I'm the one who's
changed. I don't much like either prospect.
Denise gives me a hug. She's the only one who tried to
befriend me since I joined Preston's crew, apart from good old Jade. Didn't
work though. I don't feel close to anyone here. That's not likely to change
either, not with this link fucking with my mind.
I sit down.
"I hope Preston's not giving you a hard time,"
Vik says with a smile.
"Not yet."
I inspect the casserole in front of me. Protein extracts
and bio-engineered vegetable stew, with dry crackers and algae concentrate. I
don't think I'm hungry after all.
Denise is slurping a cream soup that looks like
gobbet-filled tar, and Vik is sipping something thick and yellow through a
straw. It reminds me of Dorylini blood. And there goes my attempt at breakfast.
"So how was it?" The blond boy leans over the
table to gawk at me. "The rumor mill here's already grinding stone. Let's
get the story from the source."
"I heard they experimented on you." The other
boy spreads a buck-toothed grin at me. "Is it true? They probe you?"
Denise scowls at them. "Don't, guys." But her
voice is meek. She's curious too.
Vik minds his own business, pretending not to pay
attention. But I know he's dying to hear it. They all are. Let the freak talk about her alien abduction.
"I heard they tortured you," Blondy says.
"Rigged your synet with some alien subroutine. But you hacked your way out
and ran."
Vik grunts at him. "Yeah, she ran all the way
here through space."
"The Ticks will definitely think you're a spy,"
Hamster-Face says from across the table. "They'll hunt you down and pick
you apart, cell by cell."
"Like they did to that Ashmore guy on Procyon,
remember? They'll process your body through the fungi food-farms to get rid of
all the evidence. And the colonists will have no idea what's in their
food!"
Vik slams his hand on the table. "So that's why you
scored so bad on target practice—your brain's full of shit."
"Stop it," Denise says. "Leave Taryn alone,
she's had a rough time."
"She doesn't need your help," Blondy throws
back. "She's an alien infiltrator. She can just kill us all if she
wants to."
"You're such an asshole," Denise says.
I stare down at my untouched food. Blondy has it all
wrong. I can't kill anyone if my life depended on it. I could try stabbing
people, but with my luck that'd just get me linked to everybody and my
head would explode.
'Scatterbrain', my post-mortem nickname.
My heart climbs into my throat, and my hands turn cold and
sweaty. "Let them speculate," I tell Denise, and rub my jittery
fingers under the table. "They can imagine whatever they like."
"I think there's a grain of truth in every
rumor," Hamster-Face says snottily.
"So it's true, then?" Blondy asks. "They
turned you?"
I try to think of some witty response, but my pulse is
drumming loudly in my ears. I shouldn't have come here. I'm not just
Similar Books
