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

“He was, Admiral. He was … Finnegan was living with her. He was in her bed. If you contact David Ellstrom, he’ll confirm it all.”

Poussard nodded, but looked up, beyond her desk. Sam realized the Rear Admiral was not alone.

“Maybe he will, but I don’t think this helps your case. He could very well be working both sides to maintain leverage. He could confirm the story himself if …”

“No, he can’t,” Sam interrupted. “He’s dead.”

Gasps raced through the room as eleven faces bore down upon her. She didn’t want them to find out this way, not when they might have had a chance to pull back earlier.

“I’m sorry, everyone. I only found out just before we arrived. Admiral, I’m certain Celia Marsche killed him. Finnegan was a very smart man. He wouldn’t have …”

“Please. Ms. Pynn. Just. Stop. This is a remarkable story you’re telling me, but it also seems like a diversion. If we were to put everything on hold to investigate these allegations, nothing would change in your status or in the Guard’s redeployment. Even now,” she glanced to someone beyond her, “I am receiving reports that the UGT Desolation is preparing to suppress an uprising in Harrisboro Prefecture and stabilize the city. The Supreme Admiral issued the order himself. We will see many episodes like this play out in the coming days. And then what? I do not have the leverage to reverse Grandover’s orders. Again, I do apol …”

Sam needed only to hear the words Harrisboro Prefecture to know she’d been left with no choice. She had one card to play, and she didn’t even know what it looked like. What was David Ellstrom seeing on Finnegan’s stack before they were cut off? Was it an ace? A joker? Was this the end she always deserved?

“I’ll give you the leverage,” she shouted. “Please. Listen. I know you want him gone. You wouldn’t be speaking to us if you didn’t hope we could hand you a stronger case. Yes?”

Poussard leaned forward. “I’m listening, Ms. Pynn.”

“I can’t tell you what it is. I have to show you. If you can restore my amp, all I need is to contact David Ellstrom.”

“Not possible.”

“Yes, please. I’ll concede anything. I’ll … if I can’t prove to you why Grandover has to be stopped, you can execute me.” Lucinda tried to interrupt, to talk Sam down, but she refused to listen. “Tell Grandover to have me killed but allow the others to return home. Please, Admiral. This is all I ask.”

Poussard sat back in her tall, plush chair and said nothing.

A sudden, unexpected wave of peace abided Sam. She did not mind putting her faith in a longshot. She felt buoyed, as if she now stood in the intersection created by all the choices she ever made, from the moment she learned her true identity, to freeing Jamie at the lake house and finding Michael near death. This was, Sam determined, for the best.

68

Harrisboro Prefecture

W E CAN’T GO UP AGAINST THE GUARD,” Michael said. “Capt. Doltrice, clear a path for us. Now.” He turned to Oliver, the pilot. “We got one chance, dude. Get ready.” As Oliver swung the uplift about, Michael’s comrades found something strong to hold onto. Michael reached for the next inward hook and prepared to step away from the port.

“Might be a good idea to close the …”

Michael didn’t finish his sentence before three DayWatch uplifts exploded nearby. The fiery light of their decimation, bigger than he might have expected for such small vessels, filled the hold. In the same instant, the uplift concussed as a massive sheet of shrapnel pounded the starboard bulwark and flipped the vessel on its side.

The open port did not close soon enough.

His feet suddenly out from under him, Michael realized one hand on a hook was not good enough.

He plunged.

The descent felt apart from life or death. For Michael, it was an instant when all his foolishness caught up to him at last. “I am no damn hero,” he told Hans. Michael knew he was right because heroes did not go out like this.

He didn’t have time to think about the end, about Sam, or if anyone would remember him after this war. He didn’t have time because his fall broke when he crashed onto the rooftop balustrade. He fell over the side … onto the roof.

His lungs felt as if they expunged every molecule of air, and his ribs … something had to be broken. His amp, however, remained active, and Capt. Doltrice was demanding Michael respond. For the moment, that wasn’t possible.

Michael contorted, tried to find life-giving oxygen, and fought through the agony that spiraled out through his chest. This ain’t how I go out. No. Fucking. Way.

Above him, the chaos dissolved into order. The DayWatch vessels – including the Scram – understood reason and flew away. But his uplift was struggling to right itself, the portside nacelle flickering.

Maya Fontaine amped into him. He didn’t have the strength to throw open a cube. Her words were enough.

“Michael, we see you. Hold on. We’re coming, sweetie.”

Again, there she was using Sam’s special language. But she wasn’t Sam, and he wasn’t going to see any more of his brothers and sisters killed tonight.

His breath returning in gulps, he replied. “Leave me. Tell Hans. Get away and keep … keep fighting.”

Doltrice intervened. “I hear you, Mr. Cooper. Tell the uplift we’ll handle this. We are better equipped and all ex-Guard.”

Michael tried to push himself up against the balustrade but coughed without control. He tasted blood.

“Go, Maya. I got a ride. Hook … hook up with our team.”

When she didn’t respond at once, he feared she was making Hans and Oliver do something outrageous in