Abysm (40 page)

ROMANE

C
ONNOVA
I
NTERSTELLAR
O
FFICES

Noah lay on the couch and watched Kennedy work on spreadsheets and schem flows, acting like everything was all back to normal. It wasn’t—not exactly—but it felt like maybe it would be soon. A new normal, in some respects, and possibly a better one.

He was so busy watching her, in fact, he was startled when she tossed an idle comment at him over her shoulder. “You know, your Dad did really well.”

He propped up on an elbow. “So he spent a few days in a high-class confinement facility. Who hasn’t?”

Her hands withdrew from the screens. She closed the distance to him, then knelt beside the couch and him. “Hey, he’s still an insufferable ass. But he did well.”

“He did.” But Noah wasn’t necessarily ready to ponder on it yet, so he kissed her instead. “Speaking of troublesome parents, a birdie told me your dad came by earlier.”

She instantly pulled away—which was cool, he expected that. “What birdie?”

“The entrance security cam. Do you want to talk about it?”

She glanced at him dubiously before standing and walking away.

He rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “At least tell me what he had to say. Or what the result of the conversation was. These are things I kind of need to be made aware of, if only so I know how much nurturing you need tonight.”

“All the nurturing. But I always need all the nurturing—I assumed it was the default assumption.” She groaned. “Fine. He wanted to make bygones be bygones. Water under the bridge. An unfortunate necessity of the circumstances. A dark period best forgotten.”

“He wanted to un-disown you.”

“Pretty much.” She took to meandering in an aimless circle around the room, dismissing the work screens when she passed them.

He geared up to try to craftily maneuver his way through this multi-level, booby-trapped minefield…and stopped. He trusted her. Her judgment and her decision on the matter would be the right one, whatever it was.

“You won. You made the right choices, in all the ways, and this proves it.”

She looked over her shoulder to beam at him. “I did, didn’t I?”

“You bet you did.” Emboldened by her reaction, he leapt up and swooped in to whisk her into his arms. “So, what did you tell him?”

Her lips pursed in contemplation. “I told him…I was touched he’d make the effort to reach out in such a personal manner, and I was grateful he was willing to welcome me back into the fold. I told him how much our family had and would always mean to me—because it does and it will.”

She paused.

“Then I told him to go fuck himself.”

“What?” He almost dropped her in shock. “But you could regain everything from your old life, while keeping all you’ve built since. Why give that up?”

She gave him a dazzling smile. “I already have everything I want.”

Oh man, way to melt his damn heart…. His lips had just met hers when he pulled back in suspicion. “You’re screwing with me, aren’t you?”

Her jaw dropped in indignation—
mock
indignation. “I can’t believe you’d suggest I would do such a thing. I mean, granted, ‘Go fuck yourself’ might not have been the
exact
words I used.”

“And the exact words you used were?”

Her eyes grew unfocused, as if she struggled to recall them. “ ‘Thank you for the apology’…‘no, I don’t need any help, financial or otherwise, we’re doing great’…‘I’m not certain if we can make it for Christmas dinner or not, but I’ll be in touch soon.’ ”

“That’s what I thought.” The idea of formal Christmas dinner at her parents’ estate was nightmare-inducing. It was okay, though. He’d survive it. “We should go to Christmas dinner. As a nominal peace offering.”

She nodded pensively. “All right. On one condition: your father comes, too.”

“Oh, that is low. Below-the-belt dirty fighter is what you are.”

She grinned, brazenly pleased with herself. “So you’ll ask him then?”

40

EARTH

M
ANCHESTER

D
EVON SKULKED DEEP IN THE SHADOWS
of a cluster of verdant ferns nestled in the far corner of the Ernest Simon Conservatory.

Despite the controlled environment inside, the air remained chilly, excusing his trench coat. Shadewraps would stand out in the overcast, damp weather, but his irises had shifted to an amethyst so dark they’d be mistaken for black from a distance—which was where he intended to stay.

It probably wasn’t safe for him to be on Earth, not quite yet. The official government raids against Prevos had been halted, but BANIA wouldn’t be repealed until the Supreme Judicial Court overturned it or the Assembly had a new law ready to take its place, and neither was going to happen for a few more days. Many ordinary, uninvolved people still believed him to be as much of a terrorist as any OTS activist.

So he didn’t advertise his presence. But he needed to be here.

Abigail hadn’t enjoyed a large circle of genuine friends, but she did have a lot of professional acquaintances on Earth and across settled space, as well as extended family here in Manchester.

The arboretum hadn’t struck Devon as being to Abigail’s tastes, but he turned out to be wrong. He’d never known she loved flowers. Well, he supposed he must have known it in the smallest way; the detail must have been buried somewhere in the morass of knowledge Annie had acquired from Valkyrie or in the information now strewn throughout the Noesis.

I have decided I dislike intensely this human custom of funerals. Valkyrie agrees with me. She refused to attend.

She forbade Alex from coming?

Perhaps ‘argued strongly against’ is a more accurate phrasing. In retrospect, I should have done the same…but I realize you feel as strongly about the importance of being here.

I can’t fault you for your perspective, Annie. But do you understand why we do this?

I’m well-versed in the history of the ritual and its professed purposes. Yet I cannot help but think of Jules, of how we stood together with Abigail at her funeral, and now here we are once again. It is distressing to me. They should not be gone to us, either of them. Not so swiftly. Humans need to devise a way to live forever.

He chuckled under his breath.
I’m sure we’re working on it. But have you ever considered the possibility that life won’t be as meaningful if you know it will never end?

Considered and discarded.

Okay, Annie, fair enough. We can talk about it more later. In a better setting.

Ostensibly a private ceremony with an exclusive guest list, the spacious conservatory was nevertheless nearly full. People he didn’t recognize spoke in strings of accolades, praising Abigail’s intellect, her persistent quest for knowledge and the dividends that quest had provided to humanity as a whole and to innumerable individuals.

Devon perked up when someone he did know stepped to the podium and spoke, bluntly but truthfully, about matters closer to his own heart.

As she made her way back to her seat, Miriam Solovy zeroed in on him so quickly he may as well have a spotlight over his head.

You shouldn’t be here. It’s still too risky.

I’m being careful.

She let it drop, but he took a half-step deeper into the ferns for good measure.

Final solemn words were spoken by a man who claimed to be a member of Abigail’s family. Final rituals were intoned, and the guests began filing out. He slipped in among them and let himself be carried out into the cold, wet morning.

When the departing crowd began to disperse he veered off to the left and across the park.

He’d catch a levtram to the spaceport, then hop over to San Francisco and have some drinks with Ramon and Sayid before heading to…Romane? It seemed as good a place as any—better than most—to serve as his next temporary home. Besides, Annie preferred it to Pandora.

“I thought I might find you here.”

Devon froze. The voice cut straight through him with a power no shield could withstand.

Slowly, cautiously, he turned around.

Long blond hair spilled over her shoulders to mat into tangles in the rain. Did she not have a rainshade? Why not? At this rate she would soon be soaked to the bone.

A clover-hued dress billowed around her legs in the gusting wind. Once upon a time the dress would have complimented her lovely green eyes, but now….

Her lips rose in a tentative smile as radiant white irises stared back at him. “Hi, Devon.”

He breathed in and swallowed past the panicking coward of a lump in his throat. “Emily?”

V
ANCOUVER
EASC
H
EADQUARTERS

Alex reached the top floor of the shiny new EASC Headquarters tower—new to her anyway—and strolled with increasing curiosity across the atrium.

The décor, the ambiance, it was all…pleasant. Warm, bordering on welcoming. Had the Alliance military bureaucracy’s sensibilities changed this drastically in a year? Or had hers?

The door to her mother’s suite was open, and she walked in without trepidation. Her gaze swept around the office appreciatively. “This office is fantastic, Mom. So much better than the old one.”

Miriam fretted over the antique texts on the bookcase, rearranging them just so, then just so again. “That’s right, you didn’t get to see it before you went back through the portal. I agree. It is fantastic, and I’ve missed it these last weeks. Thankfully, Major Lange kept it locked up tight, and no one dared try to take it for themselves.”

The better for their health, she suspected. “Have you installed Thomas in here yet?”

“No, but don’t think I’m not considering it.”

She chuckled. “I’m not surprised. How did the hearing with the Ethics Council go? I assume well enough since you’re here.”

Miriam considered the texts with a critical gaze; presumably deciding they passed muster for the moment, she went around to her desk to fret over a few more objects.

“Embarrassing—for them. The number of allegedly moral people in leadership positions who lined up to kiss Winslow’s feet out of sheer cowardice is shocking. I think perhaps I’ll be encouraging a number of retirements in the coming weeks. It’s time for new blood in the ranks.”

“Good.” Alex stopped in front of a visual of her dad on the wall. He was smirking at the cam, the picture of self-assured, roguish charm.

Recent events had been marred by destruction and death, by so much darkness, yet she imagined he’d have found a way to add needed levity, were he here.

“David would’ve been a much better leader for Volnosti. And oh, how he would have relished the fight.”

“No, he would’ve been a more entertaining leader. Mom, I’ve seen the footage from your showdown with Winslow at the Assembly. You were spectacular, and
I
bet Dad would’ve rushed to cede the stage to you then proceeded to watch on in awe.”

A pleased, if slightly wistful, smile grew on her mother’s lips. “Maybe so.”

Alex, with the recent breakthroughs the Prevos and…Abigail have made, I expect to soon be able to revisit the difficulties involving your father’s neural construct.

I don’t…I mean that’s great to hear. You should absolutely work on it.

But?

I’m not quite ready to have my father in my head again yet. I need some time.

I understand. It’s possible there will be other options. But we’ll consider the best approach later.

Thank you.

“How was Abigail’s funeral?”

Her mother grimaced. “What do you want me to say? It was solemn and reverential, as such things are meant to be.”

The shadows of those lost to them crowded in to stifle the air in the office, and Alex wandered out onto the patio in the hope of brightening the mood.

It was a chilly afternoon, but too nice not to be outside. Beyond the patio, shuttles and skycars sped across the Strait to and from the mainland; the waters sparkled beneath a sun unmarred by clouds. People strode purposefully across the courtyard, as if trying to reassure themselves normality had returned.

A few seconds later her mother came out as well, and they sat at the small table nestled amid blooming morning glories and astilbe. Absurdly delightful, all of it.

The fresh air and sunshine had the desired effect as she idly surveyed the surroundings. “Is it true a fistfight broke out during one of the Assembly hearings yesterday?”

“It is. Much gnashing of teeth both preceded and followed the scuffle, complete with wailings of the sky falling and predictions of the end of the world. It was all rather overdramatic.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Don’t they realize? Never mind, obviously they don’t. They’re politicians. But the sky isn’t falling—the world is turning. It’s a new dawn.”