December 05, 2361 AIA
Rising’s Home Base
It was the middle of the night, but Reyer had put off the call long enough. When the ache in her back and the chill from Adan’s absence woke her up, she left their tent on the chance Ciro might still be working in the otherwise empty computer lab.
It was a good chance. Almost a certainty, really.
“It’s ready for you, Alix,” Ciro said, looking over the top of his monitor.
Reyer stared at the screen for a long time. Much longer than it should have taken to check the destination.
“Do you want me to leave?”
Alix roused herself. “No, Ciro. It’s fine.” She dropped her finger onto the button to confirm the connection.
A minute later, Dr. Mullen’s face came into view.
“Reyer.”
“Doctor.”
There was a painful silence between the two women.
“Sipos escaped—” Mullen started.
“We already ran into him. He won’t be a problem anymore.”
At first the doctor looked relieved, then her expression darkened. “You killed him?”
“We did.”
Mullen looked away from her screen. “Yeah, I guess he won’t be a problem anymore. And you were right. He was a murderer.” There was a brief pause, then she said, “How’s the boy’s leg doing?”
Reyer glanced over the top of her screen. Ciro grimaced and used both hands to frantically slice the air in front of his throat. “He doesn’t seem to want me to talk about it.”
Mullen let out an irritated sigh. “Is there a competent doctor wherever you’re hiding now?”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“One or two.”
“I don’t suppose I could ask you to drag him over to them?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.”
“Dr. Mullen, can you tell me about Emery Gardner?”
Mullen sounded weary. “I’m sorry, Reyer. He was poisoned by Moric Sipos the same day you left. By the time we arrived, there was nothing that could be done to save him. After we confirmed Gardner was dead, we scanned his face to establish his identity and informed the Supremacy. I got a rather strange call from a peacekeeper. We had to report it as a murder, but the peacekeepers didn’t want to step on MI’s toes, and apparently, you can’t be murdered by someone who doesn’t exist.” The surgeon drew in a long breath. “Anyway, I think it’s over now. They’ve already started to deal with his estate.”
Alix forced herself to nod.
“Reyer, do you want the body?” When there was no response, Mullen went on, “There’s no one to claim it. He didn’t have any close friends or family. I’ll have to dispose of it soon, but if it’s not spoken for, it’s going to be flushed. I know most people don’t like that.” The doctor stopped when she saw the expression on Alix’s face. “Was he a friend of yours?”
Reyer stared at the white ceiling above her. The exposed pipes and joints were all painted to match. Her eyes traced a shadow as an unexpected laugh escaped her. “That man wouldn’t know a good book if it bit him on the ass.”
She tried to figure out why she was smiling. It was easier than trying to understand the dull, sick ache in her chest.
“Alix?”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Mullen. I can’t.” Reyer looked back at the screen. “You understand.”
“Yes.”
“It’ll have to be good enough for him—no, it serves him right. If he’d had any sense, he would’ve ordered himself bottled in whiskey and shot into a sun.”
There was a rueful smile on Mullen’s face. “He didn’t take very good care of his body in life, so it fits that he wouldn’t think to take care of it in death.”
“I’m sorry I put you through all that. Thank you for everything, Doctor.” In a sudden rush, Reyer added, “I can’t call, but I think of you a lot. I hope you know that.”
“Me too, Reyer.”
Neither of them felt that there was anything they needed to add before they cut the line.
Ciro let the screen in front of him absorb all his attention, to give Alix as much silence and space as she might need.
“Ciro.”
He looked up.
“Who was it who said, ‘No one’s as good or bad as you think they are?’”
Ciro dropped the stylus he’d been fidgeting with. “I don’t know. But since you’re asking out of the blue, chances are it was some old philosopher.”
“Yes. But I can’t remember which one.”
“Is it important?”
“Not really. It was something Gardner recommended I read.” Reyer forced herself to stand up.
“Was he trying to defend himself?”
At first Reyer seemed confused, but then she shook her head. “No. Gardner never bothered to defend himself. He was trying to justify how he could write off the entire fantasy genre. He said he didn’t like the bad-guys—the antagonists.” The corner of her mouth ticked up when she remembered the pompous tone the general unconsciously adopted on occasion. “He said they were unrealistic because there was no such thing as pure evil.”
“And that meant you shouldn’t read them? Because—let me get this straight—because a fantasy book is unrealistic?”
Alix’s smile softened. “I suspect he just didn’t like them.”