Leviathan Falls (The Expanse #9)

by James S.A. Corey

In the instant between deciding to call his valet for a fresh pot of tea and then reaching his hand out for the comm controls, the mind of Winston Duarte blew apart like a pile of straw in a hurricane.

“Just covering near-constant panic with light humor, same as anyone.”

The dysfunctions and idiosyncrasies of childhood became the self-evident norms of adulthood.

Everyone’s carrying something that their parents would have done differently if they’d known. Or if they’d been better people. Or if things had just been different. That’s all right. It’s normal.

We only know things until someone shows us we’re wrong.”

Amos said, and sighed. “You’re overthinking this, Cap’n. You got now and you got the second your lights go out. Meantime is the only time there is. All that matters is what we do during it.” “I just want to go out knowing that things will be okay without me. That it all keeps going.” “That you’re not the one who dropped the ball.” “Yeah.” “Or maybe,” Amos said, “you’re not that important and it ain’t up to you to fix the universe?”

his headache was probably just a headache. Strokes didn’t take that long.

There was something weirdly universal about her laughter, though. And Xan’s. The sound of young humans at play. Jim realized they were being quiet, all three of them, and listening to the kids like it was a piece of music.

“I feel like I came to cook a meal and it turns out it’s a poetry competition.

Jim seemed… not tired, exactly, but all used up. Like his fuel tank was empty and he was just trying to coast gracefully to the finish line.

Alex had heard the idea that a tool, used long enough and cared for well enough, developed a soul.

“I think about all the things we could have done, all the miracles we could have achieved, if we were all just a little bit better than it turns out we are.”

“When people don’t know anything,” Amos said, “they love having meetings to talk about it.”

“Until death all is life.”

The dead were still around him, because he couldn’t bring himself to believe that they weren’t.

“Optimism is for assholes,”

All the grimy, grubby bullshit that comes with being locked in your own head for a lifetime. That’s the sacrifice. That’s what you give up to get a place among the stars.”

“Fucked, flustered, and far from home.”

Are you sure this thing you’re about to do is the right one?” “I don’t have a fucking clue,” Holden said, and then did it anyway.