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Time to do your job.” “My—” “Survive and bear witness.” “A drone—” “Can deliver the data—
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
The Captain
Jukka Sarasti—purple-faced, stiff-limbed—was foaming at the mouth.
He’s having a seizure, I realized.
A two-by-three matrix of insets, bordered in black, floating over the main ConSensus display: two big interlinked crosses right in front of where Sarasti had been hanging.
Maybe this wasn’t the Captain at all. Maybe it was pure reflex: a dialogue tree, spouting public-service announcements. Maybe Theseus had already been lobotomized. Maybe this was only her brain stem talking.
Lateral maxillipeds began nibbling at the base of Sarasti’s skull.
pithed
I’d known. I’d imagined it. I’d seen it coming. He hadn’t believed me.
Rows of glassy eyes reflected back at us down the passageway, passing in and out of shadow.
“Who do you think shut it down, Keeton? The fucker went rogue. I could barely even get it to self-destruct.”
“What is hitting us?” “Lightning. EMP.”
“She said she was trying to escape—”
“I think there’s someone new in there now.
whatever’s in charge, I think it’s just panicking.”
Sarasti.
“Can’t leave yourself a back door, Keeton. Defeats the whole purpose.”
But it wasn’t Sarasti at all, of course. It was the Captain—whatever was left of the Captain, this far into the fight—commandeering a peripheral interface for its own use.
Charybdis’s
Charybdis had been refitted for high g and long distance. And me.
U DISLKE ORDRS FRM MCHNES. HAPPIER THS WAY.
Theseus
Rorschach
Big Ben
how many tonnes of antimatter would it take to match something that could squeeze the power of a sun from a gas ball barely wider than Jupiter?
had each side opted for a kamikaze strike on the other?
Big Ben got in the way just minutes before the explosion. That’s probabl...
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
Perhaps Sarasti was right, perhaps some of it is vital. I don’t know what any of it means.
Chelsea
I live for only an hour of every ten thousand now, you see.
So there you have it: a memoir told from meat to machinery.
It’s been almost fourteen years now.
any. He spoke uneasily of increasing unrest back home.
The lack of closure must be driving them crazy.
I thought he even sounded troubled by the news that the birthrate was rising again,