The Impossible Future: Complete set by Frank Kennedy (mini ebook reader .txt) 📕

tapped the black pipe until it glowed. The first inhale of poltash felt more satisfying than any meds. He could throw back the liquor, finish the pipe, and sleep right there.

Awkward silence fell as more pipes lit and glasses tinkled.

His eyes darted between the singer and the assassins’ target. When he lingered on the singer, she spoke.

“Maya Fontaine,” she said. “I would have introduced myself after you came off stage, but you were in such a hurry.”

He took a puff and spewed a long dart of smoke. To Moss he said, “I hope you gave her the proper credit. She finished off the head douchebag. Saved my life.”

“Oh, yes,” Moss said. “Miss Fontaine and I spoke at length. She’s a fascinating woman. Not much of a singer, but I’m sure her true ambitions lie elsewhere.” They shared a knowing smile. She seemed indifferent to the insult. “In fact, this entire team of Solomons is fascinating. Your movement is willing to push a dangerous edge in the service of your agenda. Yes?”

Michael turned to Rikard and Matthias, who sat together, hands joined. They nodded to Michael, as if expecting him to respond, but Moss did him a solid.

“Mr. Cooper, while you have been recovering, your associates and I have been reviewing certain logistical matters. We have agreed to keep Solomon involvement in the execution and prevention of the attack from public view. My security apparatus cleared Entilles of most of the bodies before DayWatch investigators arrived and secured the sight of the Lutrium Burst. All other histories are being constructed.”

Michael choked on the smoke. “What’s a Lutrium Burst? What do you mean by histories being constructed?”

“Ah. I see you weren’t told. Lutrium is an airborne toxin. Kills on contact. The assassins propelled an MR40 casing through the floor and ignited the Lutrium in my landing about three seconds after we vacated on your warning. As for the histories, not for you to worry. We control the narrative.”

Michael’s team nodded in tacit agreement.

“So, basically, you’re sweeping this shit away?”

“An odd analogy,” Moss smiled, “but yes. In return, I have agreed to consider the Solomon platform for universal equity. This is what your colleagues hoped to achieve. Yes?”

He couldn’t argue the point but also didn’t think four people needed to die to reach this position.

“Sure. Yeah. You’re right, Mr. Moss. We need help from Chancellors like you.”

Moss pulled slow on his pipe and blew smoke through his nose. “We’ve all experienced a difficult night. Michael, I realize you’ve been through the worst of it, but if you can tolerate me a while longer, perhaps we could talk alone? The view from the balcony is exquisite. Yes?”

His team’s body language was clear: Go. Do. Make a final pitch.

“Why not?” He raised an empty glass to the servant. “Another?”

“Excellent,” Moss said. “Everyone else, please commiserate, celebrate, inebriate. Whatever suits. We live another day.”

Moss was right: The view from the balcony rocked. Stretching far out onto the grounds, a still lake illuminated from beneath the surface, creating the illusion of stars twinkling from a subterranean galaxy. Beyond the forest, Boston Prefecture lit the sky in golds, reds, and silver. This view beat the Pynn compound hands-down.

“What do you think?” Moss asked.

“I still think it’s all a damn dream, to be honest. This is the cool part. Back at the club, not so much.”

Moss stunned Michael with a supportive rub on the shoulder.

“It’s a great irony, Michael. We created a paradise, but we live in a nightmare.” Moss set down his drink on the balustrade and dropped his pipe into a jacket pocket. Then he sighed. “Listen, I want you to know something from my heart. What you did tonight ranks up there with the greatest raw courage I’ve seen in my life.

“I was in the Guard for eight years – only two of which were satisfying – and this idea of warriors built of superhuman courage is a myth. It’s not courageous to wear an impregnable bodysuit, fire weapons that render you invincible, and slaughter an enemy incapable of winning. But tonight, from the moment you made yourself a target on that stage, right to the very end, you displayed something I haven’t seen in a man in a long time. Thank you, Michael.” He extended his hand. “Thank you for my life.”

Michael took his hand, the grip resolute. He was too tired for the proper words, and the moment had no precedent.

“I don’t know what to say, Mr. Moss. You’re welcome? It’s just … nearabout every Chancellor I’ve ever known was … well …”

“Well, what?”

“Kind of an asshole, to be honest.”

Moss smiled crooked. “I’ve noticed you throw that word around.”

“Can’t think of a better one. Look, I trust one Chancellor. The woman I love. We’ve been through it all together. But even she had some of that asshole gene till I got to know her better. You … dude, you almost seem like you mean what you say.”

“Almost? Hmmph.” He sipped his drink. “I understand, Michael. You and I stand on opposite ends of a long bridge. We won’t cross it in a single night. You won’t trust me until I fulfill my promise.”

Michael pulled on the pipe and inhaled. “So, uh, what you said back in there? You’re going to take our platform seriously?”

“My debt demands it. And frankly, it’s something we should have done as a Chancellory long ago.”

“Then why hasn’t it happened?”

“Take a seat.” He led them to a pair of high-backed chairs. “Michael, I know shards of your story and what you sacrificed by coming from an Earth that does not officially exist. But I have two questions, and I need honesty.”

“Reckon I’ll do my best, Mr. Moss.”

“Finnegan. Please. You’ve earned the right. Now, to question one. Why do you fight and kill for