Read Online WebMage by Kelly McCullough - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kelly McCullough
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Fantasy fiction, Fantasy, Computers, Fantasy Fiction; American, High Tech
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of liar. I wanted to tell her everything, to let her know I hadn't hacked Atropos.web and crashed the mweb just for the fun of it. But I couldn't. Atropos hadn't just shut my mouth, she'd put an invisible cage around me. I was a prisoner of silence.
Cerice didn't say anything more either, and we lay quietly and held each other until the door banged open.
"Rise and shine," said Shara, poking her head into the room. "You've got a test to take." Melchior followed her in.
"That's my exit cue," said Cerice, rolling out of bed.
She started pulling on her clothes. When she got to the skirt with the missing button, she looked irritated. "I wish you'd let me handle that," she said, producing a safety pin from somewhere.
"I'm sorry. Do you want me to fix it?"
"I don't have the time."
"Maybe when I see you next," I said. I'd really enjoyed our day together, and I wanted a repeat as soon as possible.
"I'm sure it'll be fixed before that," said Cerice, without even glancing my way. "Shara, initiate ltp link; Mtp://mweb. DecLocus.prime.minus0208/harvard.edu~markhamdorm 217. Execute."
"Executing," said Shara. She worked quickly, getting an active gate up in no time.
Cerice stepped into the column of light.
"Wait," I called. "When can I see you next?"
"I don't know. My schedule's going to be awful for the next month or two. Drop me an e-mail, and we'll see if we can work something out. Ciao ."
"But, Cerice, I—" It was too late. She was gone, and I missed her already.
"Ouch," said Melchior, shaking his head.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing really, but the only other place I've seen a brushback like that was on a baseball field."
I wanted to argue, but found I couldn't. She had thrown her parting comment like a pitcher trying to move a batter away from the plate. That hurt. It also seemed perfectly emblematic of how things had gone ever since my little'tête-à-tête with Atropos about Puppeteer. I'd finally found a woman who I thought I might be able to build a relationship with, and she'd loved me and left me. I tried to go back to sleep, but being alone with the scent of lilacs lingering in the air was simply too much.
I decided it was time I stopped back at my dorm. I'd left some important things there in the escape from my cousins, like Melchior's backups, and my extra spell files and research materials. If I wanted to have another go at Atropos, I'd need all of it. Sighing wearily, I ordered Melchior to take us home. My knee felt like someone had put a burr under the cap, but I thought I could run if I had to, and I didn't know how much time I had left to stop Atropos.
As Melchior set up the ltp link, I sent a mental request to the faceless goddess of Necessity to allow my doppelganger ploy to have worked. Being dead for a while would come in mighty handy.
Before I left I recorded a quick message for Cerice, "Cerice, I don't think I'm going to say this very well. Glib is my natural style, and this calls for… something else. Today was special. I'm feeling things for you that I'd like to explore in depth. I want this to be more than just a passing fancy. I know you said you'd be busy, but please get in touch with me soon. I want to see you again."
"Sign it and send it," I told Melchior. "Then we're out of here." He looked as though he was thinking about adding some editorial commentary, but he must have read my look because he just nodded.
* * * *
My dorm had never seemed so appallingly dingy. Fifteen days had passed in the U of M Decision Locus and Rod hadn't taken the desecration of his beloved Toby Keith poster lightly. The beer he'd poured on my bed in revenge had had time to go completely skunky, almost masking the smell of Rod's widely scattered dirty clothes. Rod's cleaning skills were rudimentary at best, but he'd really outdone himself this time. I wasn't planning on staying, but if I ever wanted to return, I couldn't leave things as they were.
"Melchior, White Tornado. Execute."
Mel gave me a particularly
Cerice didn't say anything more either, and we lay quietly and held each other until the door banged open.
"Rise and shine," said Shara, poking her head into the room. "You've got a test to take." Melchior followed her in.
"That's my exit cue," said Cerice, rolling out of bed.
She started pulling on her clothes. When she got to the skirt with the missing button, she looked irritated. "I wish you'd let me handle that," she said, producing a safety pin from somewhere.
"I'm sorry. Do you want me to fix it?"
"I don't have the time."
"Maybe when I see you next," I said. I'd really enjoyed our day together, and I wanted a repeat as soon as possible.
"I'm sure it'll be fixed before that," said Cerice, without even glancing my way. "Shara, initiate ltp link; Mtp://mweb. DecLocus.prime.minus0208/harvard.edu~markhamdorm 217. Execute."
"Executing," said Shara. She worked quickly, getting an active gate up in no time.
Cerice stepped into the column of light.
"Wait," I called. "When can I see you next?"
"I don't know. My schedule's going to be awful for the next month or two. Drop me an e-mail, and we'll see if we can work something out. Ciao ."
"But, Cerice, I—" It was too late. She was gone, and I missed her already.
"Ouch," said Melchior, shaking his head.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing really, but the only other place I've seen a brushback like that was on a baseball field."
I wanted to argue, but found I couldn't. She had thrown her parting comment like a pitcher trying to move a batter away from the plate. That hurt. It also seemed perfectly emblematic of how things had gone ever since my little'tête-à-tête with Atropos about Puppeteer. I'd finally found a woman who I thought I might be able to build a relationship with, and she'd loved me and left me. I tried to go back to sleep, but being alone with the scent of lilacs lingering in the air was simply too much.
I decided it was time I stopped back at my dorm. I'd left some important things there in the escape from my cousins, like Melchior's backups, and my extra spell files and research materials. If I wanted to have another go at Atropos, I'd need all of it. Sighing wearily, I ordered Melchior to take us home. My knee felt like someone had put a burr under the cap, but I thought I could run if I had to, and I didn't know how much time I had left to stop Atropos.
As Melchior set up the ltp link, I sent a mental request to the faceless goddess of Necessity to allow my doppelganger ploy to have worked. Being dead for a while would come in mighty handy.
Before I left I recorded a quick message for Cerice, "Cerice, I don't think I'm going to say this very well. Glib is my natural style, and this calls for… something else. Today was special. I'm feeling things for you that I'd like to explore in depth. I want this to be more than just a passing fancy. I know you said you'd be busy, but please get in touch with me soon. I want to see you again."
"Sign it and send it," I told Melchior. "Then we're out of here." He looked as though he was thinking about adding some editorial commentary, but he must have read my look because he just nodded.
* * * *
My dorm had never seemed so appallingly dingy. Fifteen days had passed in the U of M Decision Locus and Rod hadn't taken the desecration of his beloved Toby Keith poster lightly. The beer he'd poured on my bed in revenge had had time to go completely skunky, almost masking the smell of Rod's widely scattered dirty clothes. Rod's cleaning skills were rudimentary at best, but he'd really outdone himself this time. I wasn't planning on staying, but if I ever wanted to return, I couldn't leave things as they were.
"Melchior, White Tornado. Execute."
Mel gave me a particularly
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