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

in the NAC. So why not? Speaking of rich, I need to double our security and outsource a few mercs for missions I’ve got in mind. Will probably take me all morning to see it through without Pat but …”

He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “One: Shut the fuck up. Two: We’re gonna worry about that shit tomorrow. Three: I love you, and I’m going to be right here every step. But if we’re going to be on the same page, we need to clear the air. You get …?”

“Yes, Michael, I get your speed. What do you want me to say? That Pat was shot in the chest five times while she was holding my hand? That the assassin aimed at me first then made an intentional move in Pat’s direction? That killing her was all part of his message? That somehow, he knew enough about my life to know what killing Pat would do? That everything on Vasily was timed down to the second, as if they were following me? Even listening to me? That there are people in the Chancellory who think I’m one of his agents?”

She broke away and paced. Michael gave her a moment.

“Actually, I’ve already asked most of those questions since Finnegan’s first intel came in. Seems pretty obvious it was a setup. But anyone with half a brain knows how you feel about that piece of shit. Sam, here’s what I haven’t heard because you danced around it on the circastream: His message. The reason the Guard asked for you. What did those kids say?”

She sipped wine. “Things that make no sense, that won’t happen.”

“Like?”

“He said he’s going to ‘realign the Collectorate.’ What can that even mean? He also said I’ll stand at his side, and I’ll do it willingly.”

Somehow, those details never made the intel briefing.

“Hold the phone. He says you’ll join him … like a volunteer?”

“I know. It’s insane. But everything in his message and after … Michael, he forced those children to recite words intended for no one but me. I’m sure he killed their parents. The entire Collectorate is wondering about his next move but can’t track him. So, what does he do? He lures me out to Vasily to hear his nonsense and watch him assassinate Pat and hundreds of other people. It was like he’d been planning it for months.

“He had operatives embedded in the station in key positions where they could inflict the most damage and escape before we knew what hit us. Security identified the assassins. They were mechanical engineers who used to live on an Ark Carrier above New Caledonia. Chancellors. No known connection to the hybrid program or the immortals. On top of everything else we don’t know about his group, apparently, he’s very good at recruiting. Why would Chancellors ever be a part of something like this?”

“Beats the hell out of me, Sam. Pretty much every Chancellor I’ve ever known – except maybe you and Pat – wants to stand at the top of the heap. And I get it – yeah, it’s a helluva brain-buster … but babe, that ain’t what’s tearing you up. Not really.”

The light in her eyes faded as tears pooled. Her voice shook.

“He killed seven hundred twenty-two people just to get to me. If I’d said no to the Guard, those people would be alive today.”

“You don’t know that. He might have done it just for spite.”

When he hugged her, Sam trembled. She was ready to implode. He felt her grief, guilt, and rage.

“We thought this would all go away,” she murmured. “We thought the Guard would track them down and … why does he even care about me anymore? There’s nothing I can do for him.”

“You remember when I partially blamed us for SkyTower? I was so damn freaked out back then. But I get it now. He and his brother and that Ukrainian chick made a choice. Right? It was on them all the way. We can’t let those assholes tear us down.”

“You’re right. I know you are. But it’s not like SkyTower. We didn’t see it fall. Sweetie, I was inside Vasily. Those bodies floating in space, Pat being torn apart in front of me … her blood drifting in the zero-g like …”

He kissed her on the forehead. “Enough. I’m so damn sorry. I just needed you to talk about it. This is what we have to do. No holding back, or it’s going to eat right through us.”

She sniffled. “Of course, you’re right. I need air. We both do.”

She grabbed her wine glass and bottle and marched outside the suite. Michael threw on a shirt with the tri-crest and followed.

In pursuit, he passed Solomon staff along the way, offering an awkward smile as if nothing were wrong. He saw genuine concern, not the rumor-mongering glares that long ago accompanied the knowledge he was sleeping with a Chancellor.

As he expected, Sam led him to the garden gazebo off the southern veranda. She loved this spot – surrounded by immaculate beds of blooming annuals in rainbow stripes.

“Look, babe,” he said when he reached her side. “I told myself to keep things simple today. I didn’t want you to go through it again.”

She waved him off. “No, Michael. It’s fine. Really. I’ll have nightmares the rest of my life, whether we talk about it or not. But something you said was true: We have to clear the air. And that means it’s time for you to come clean about what’s eating you up.”

The pit in his stomach grew threefold. “About?”

“Entilles Club. I heard every word on the Scram – including what you and Finnegan Moss didn’t say. I still don’t know exactly how you and Rikard saved his life.”

He thought these details would sleep until another day.

“I … um … see, what happened was …”