Under A Winter Sun by Johan Dahlgren (ink ebook reader txt) 📕

never manifested in a situation like this before. Is he getting stronger? Winger warned me my implanted mind was volatile. I hope it's not slipping. I enjoy being me too much.

“Yes, we heard about that incident. Was it a fine watch?”

“No,” the General answers with my mouth. “It had some sentimental value, that's all.”

I got that watch from Gray when I was young. When Meridian was young, I mean. This is fucking weird.

“There's no place for sentimentality for people like us. I thought you knew that.”

“Sometimes I like to pretend to be human.” Damn it, Meridian, I am human.

She frowns like she's trying to figure out a riddle. Her hair moves like snakes on morphine in the light breeze from the air recycler. “You are such a strange character, Perez.”

Like a dislocated shoulder, something clicks back into place in my mind and I'm in control of myself again. That was odd.

I wipe a hand down my face to exorcise the General's lingering presence from my mind.

“If only you knew half of it.”

It's like a putrefying snail has oozed over my soul.

“You are the most powerful human man who ever lived, and yet you like to pretend you're human. Why?”

“I don't pretend. I am human. It's my body that's immortal. On the inside, I'm just a rebel kid from the streets someone dropped into a Rolls-Royce.”

“A what?”

I sigh. “It's a car. An old car.”

“Never cared much for old stuff. Old stuff is boring. I prefer the latest and greatest.”

Are we talking about me here? “But there's a certain charm with old stuff.”

“Old stuff breaks.”

“That's part of the charm.”

“Tell that to the men in the tank that exploded and tore me open. They said it was a hardware malfunction. Took out my entire platoon of human grunts. That's what old stuff does. It kills people.”

“Not all old stuff.” I pull her closer. “Some old parts are still working fine.”

“Perez. Don't.” She puts a hand on my chest. Her cool fingers soothe my burning skin.

“Don't what?”

“Just don't. We don't have long until we go under thrust again and before we do, I need to brief you on the specifics of our mission. There are things you need to know. And there are things I need to know.”

And here I was, thinking she made up this briefing to get me into bed. I let her go. “So, brief me.” I search for my underwear, but I can't find it.

“There's a suit for you in that locker.” Jagr points to a locker in the wall. I push off lightly against her and float over to the locker. Jagr floats off in the opposite direction. I open the locker and inside is a combat suit, like the ones the girls wear. I pull it on, being careful with the zipper. Regeneration or not, there are injuries no man wants to suffer. The suit fits me like a glove. It looks cool too. I can understand they wear them all the time.

“I told you we had a man on Nifelheim and that he disappeared. What I didn't tell you was why he was there.” Jagr hits the opposite wall, pushes off and drifts back into the middle of the room.

“Why was he there?” I grab my black T-shirt where it floats and pull it over my head.

“What the Goliaths are planning might be connected to something else we're investigating.”

The Prince of Their Little Winter Kingdom

“What?”

“The communication spikes we've seen coming out of Nifelheim.”

“Comms-spikes?”

So, they know about those.

“Yes. Powerful enough to cause brief data outages throughout the system.”

“Still think it's a coincidence, Perez?”

I ignore her. “And what are the Goliaths saying?”

“We don't know.”

“You don't have anyone who can translate Norse?”

“We do, but the transmissions are encrypted. On a level we've never encountered before, and, so far, we haven't been able to crack them. Even our best AIs failed, and we have some illegal shit in our arsenal. All we know is they broadcast stupendous amounts of raw data to someone in the system. Since the recipient is not transmitting anything in return, we can't locate them. This has got the Terran intelligence community nervous. They don't like unidentified entities with unknown tech operating from an undisclosed location. Our job on Nifelheim is to make all those unknown entities known.”

“Where are the transmissions coming from?”

“No idea. They bounce them around the planet and it's impossible to tell where they originate.”

“And you think this project Hokey is connected to the comms-spikes and your agent going AWOL?”

“Project Jotun.”

“Whatever.” I grab the boots from the locker and pull them on. The motion sends me into an awkward spin.

“Yes, we think so.”

“Sounds simple enough. We go in, find the source of those transmissions, locate your agent, and extract him. We should be out of there in time for tea tomorrow.” I get the boots on and pull the straps tight. Like the suit, they're a perfect fit.

“Do you honestly believe that?” She stares at me like I claimed priests could turn wine into human blood.

“No.” When the Goliaths are involved, nothing is ever simple.

“Maybe you are smarter than they said. Now you.”

She curls up into a ball, hugs her knees and rests her chin on them. She's still naked. “Are we good?”

“I'm all good.”

I smile.

“Not you and me, Perez. You and us. The immortals. We need to know we can count on you and that you won't stab us in the back at the first opportunity.”

I think for a while, while I regard her beautiful backside as she spins around her axis.

“Yeah. We're good.” I nod and scratch the back of my head. “We're good.”

“Good.” She seems to relax. “Now tell me about your friend, Thorfinn Wagner.”

“Finn? There's not much to tell. He is the oldest son of Jarl Ragnwald and the rightful heir to the throne. He is also one big ugly motherfucker and the second-best fighter I've ever seen.”

“They call him the Skullfucker. Why is that?”

“Funny story that. When Goliaths come of age, they must prove themselves in single combat. They