Auberon (The Expanse #8.5)

by James S.A. Corey

The lights all glowed with the full spectrum of sunlight to say that this darkness was daytime, and would become dimmer and warmer when consensus night came.

He’d woken on a ship under burn. He would sleep at the bottom of a gravity well.

“Don’t make me raise my voice. This is my house. And there are a lot of armed people in the compound right now,” Biryar said. The man smiled. “There are. And some of them are probably pretty loyal to you. Others, maybe not as much. You a gambling man?”

“Just cream.” “Good choice. I like it black myself. The older I get, the more bitter shit suits me.

There’s this thing when you get older where you have to make a choice. Everyone does. You have to decide whether you care more about being your best self or your real one. If you’re more loyal to who you ought to be or who you really are.

It’s the basic problem with religion, be it Jesus or Vishnu or God Emperors. Ideological purity never survives contact with the enemy.”