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

not deserve another chance for redemption? A new life free from their genetically designed purpose?

Ophelia adhered to those stubborn notions even as bloodstains thickened, kidnappings intensified, and James and Rayna wrapped themselves inside a blissful madness. I can save them.

She thought it two years later, as she tutored Rikhi Syed, an immortal boy recently recovered during an attack on Brahma. Ophelia recognized Rikhi’s insecurity whenever they met. Not every child embraced the transition his new masters required: Surrender all conceits of mortality and prepare for pain without end.

Today, she tried a new approach with the boy, stripping the Transition Room of everything except two large pillows, upon which they sat, legs crossed. Ophelia launched a holocylinder twenty feet in diameter, ceiling-high. Images of flowers in bloom and sounds of waves lapping against sand overwhelmed their senses. Rikhi studied them with frustrated eyes.

“I don’t understand the symbolism,” he said. “Why does it have to be so hard?”

“Come now, Rikhi. You can’t offer an educated guess?”

“No. The flowers are beautiful; they dance in the wind. The waves lap the sand in and out, in and out.”

“What does the contrast suggest?”

“Back home, I ran the edge of the Omanpuri Shelf. Sometimes, there were waves as tall as this ship. I almost fell a few times. The waves, they would’ve taken me out to sea and buried me.”

She’d seen these symptoms often: Initial euphoria blended with intense curiosity after arriving at Salvation followed by lingering doubts and homesickness. Worst, an inability to conceive what “limitless life” implied. She supported hundreds of others through the worst of the transition. As with Rikhi: I can save you.

“Rikhi, the contrast should be obvious. Flowers show their best colors for a fleeting period then wither and die. The water laps against the shore for thousands of years. It is as endless as the planet itself. As it is with limitless life. Do you understand?”

“I think so. I am both these things now?”

She answered Rikhi’s question according to a script Valentin prepared more than a year ago.

“The water is your mind’s capacity. The flowers are the cycles of love and loss.”

“I tried to love, but I was hated. My whole family was hated.”

“You must never think about them, Rikhi. Do you understand? They were not your family.” The script, which answered every new immortal’s potential defiance, played in Ophelia’s head. “They were thieves who denied you the truth. Admiral Valentin and Brother James are your only truth. They will give you purpose so you will find fulfillment in limitless life.”

“I don’t understand. If I cannot die, haven’t I already been given the greatest gift?”

Most immortals asked this question.

“The fear of death motivates the living. Remove it, and life loses all sense of urgency. You must find a reason to live. Legacy is what mortals stake during their brief journeys. Legacy is not essential to immortals. There is no competition, no race, no hierarchy. An immortal is a witness to the expanse of history.”

Ophelia recited the words so often she’d become immune to their allure. At a philosophical level, she did not disagree with the ideas. Rather, the notion that children might appreciate them while dealing with recent trauma made little sense. What Rikhi said next, she heard only twice before.

“Is there any way I can die and never come back?”

“We shouldn’t talk like that.”

“Don’t I deserve to know?”

She veered off-script because Valentin never wrote a response.

“I suppose there are ways. If you died in the vacuum of space and no one retrieved your body, perhaps. If you were atomized or incinerated at a genetic level, perhaps.”

“So, if I ask Brother James to kill me …”

“Rikhi, do you want to die?”

The boy looked away, his eyes landing on the holocylinder.

“No. But I’m not sure I want to live, either.”

Her neck hairs stood up. “Listen to me, Rikhi. Listen carefully. Do not ever say those things outside this room. Admiral Valentin and Brother James expect absolute loyalty. More than this, they demand gratitude for saving you.”

“I didn’t want to be saved. The other children, they’re excited. They plan to fight and die over and over for Admiral Valentin and Brother James. They say there’s no greater honor.”

Ophelia choked on her pride. “Maybe they’re right, Rikhi. One day, the Jewels and the immortals will have a home world of their own. Isn’t that worth fighting for?”

“I miss Brahma.”

She sighed. Although Rikhi was not the most stubborn new immortal she transitioned, Ophelia lacked the patience or resolve to see this through. And what exactly was she saving him for?

She didn’t mind when her admin stack tripped with an incoming message. Ophelia double-flicked her eyes and stared into Valentin’s cold, elusive features.

“I’m outside. Make an excuse and join me. Leave the boy.”

She tapped away from the stack.

“Rikhi, you will have two minutes of peace. Reexamine your feelings. I’ll expect a more agreeable stance when I return.”

Valentin dove straight into business after the door slid behind her.

“I’ve been monitoring his sessions. You are not doing your job.”

Ophelia chose her words with care. “As always, Valentin, I try to adhere to script. I have suggested you make changes for the defiant ones. You’ve never provided the wording.”

“Because I never thought you mindless. You are perfectly capable of adapting. However, your response about incineration and the vacuum of space was unnecessarily blunt. You are losing your touch, Ophelia. We’ve had the conversation before about what happens when your usefulness disappears.”

“Did James threaten to incinerate me again?”

“My brother is on a mission today. More indigos to turn.”

“Yes. The great crusade to achieve … what exactly?”

“Enough, Ophelia. I’ll take over Rikhi Syed’s case. I’ll leave you to contemplate what this means for your future.”

She neither wanted to argue nor beg for another