Editing Waiting For Perfect
Warning: You are not logged in. Your IP address will be publicly visible if you make any edits. If you log in or create an account, your edits will be attributed to your username, along with other benefits.
The edit can be undone.
Please check the comparison below to verify that this is what you want to do, and then save the changes below to finish undoing the edit.
| Latest revision | Your text | ||
| Line 16: | Line 16: | ||
Dear God, I could barely hear Nika telling me not to give up, couldn't feel Joshua's hug before he turned away to take care of my family. All I could think of, all I could feel, was my failure to save my brother. Anger, despair, self-hatred—I couldn't breathe past the scream building inside me, clawing to get out. I beelined for the engine compartment so I could swear in peace. And cry where no one could hear. ''Stupid, stupid, stupid, paranoid idiot! You botched it. Six months. We were on Persephone six months ago. Why didn't you go home then? You could have saved Kolya before his tongue slipped, saved Mama and Papa and Grisha …. Just six lousy months. Six [[Waiting For Perfect#HOW TO SPEAK CHINESE|cào nĭ mā months!'']] <br><br> | Dear God, I could barely hear Nika telling me not to give up, couldn't feel Joshua's hug before he turned away to take care of my family. All I could think of, all I could feel, was my failure to save my brother. Anger, despair, self-hatred—I couldn't breathe past the scream building inside me, clawing to get out. I beelined for the engine compartment so I could swear in peace. And cry where no one could hear. ''Stupid, stupid, stupid, paranoid idiot! You botched it. Six months. We were on Persephone six months ago. Why didn't you go home then? You could have saved Kolya before his tongue slipped, saved Mama and Papa and Grisha …. Just six lousy months. Six [[Waiting For Perfect#HOW TO SPEAK CHINESE|cào nĭ mā months!'']] <br><br> | ||
| − | No one knew where Nikolai was now. Based on Joshua and Arden's findings, the Tower never held prisoners and kept no records of them. Like a stage magician misdirecting the audience, Anna had used the Black Tower as a distraction while she shuffled the prisoners out of sight into the Elect. Omar knew of the program and what he'd told us on Persephone was horrific—made moreso because we'd already found too much evidence that such a thing was possible. My memories of Arden's bar code tattoo and extra pineal gland, of Mike rendered helpless by Chempliant, of Valerie Samson wet-wired into an assassin-puppet, of Joshua's abilities as a Reader and Borrower, the Stitches on Pericles Station, the Hunters on Beaumonde, even the Reavers on Miranda were all were sign posts on the road to hell, with humanity being driven there by omnipotent moral busybodies convinced their tampering was justified by reasons that only they understood. Those reasons had ruined Mike, had created Joshua and Arden, and had stolen my youngest brother. There was a chance that Nikolai still lived, but it was slim to nonexistent that he remained self-aware, his old self intact. From what Omar showed us, men and women were subsumed by the process and came out vastly different. Did they retain their memories and personalities? There was no knowing. There were no reports of the victims ever being heard again by their families and friends. I saw again the liquid grace of the Hunters that Blue Sun had sent after us under the streets of Beaumonde, saw again their inhuman speed and stamina. I still bore the scars of that encounter, effaced by Kiera's skill with the knife, but still there. Not that I needed a reminder how incredibly | + | No one knew where Nikolai was now. Based on Joshua and Arden's findings, the Tower never held prisoners and kept no records of them. Like a stage magician misdirecting the audience, Anna had used the Black Tower as a distraction while she shuffled the prisoners out of sight into the Elect. Omar knew of the program and what he'd told us on Persephone was horrific—made moreso because we'd already found too much evidence that such a thing was possible. My memories of Arden's bar code tattoo and extra pineal gland, of Mike rendered helpless by Chempliant, of Valerie Samson wet-wired into an assassin-puppet, of Joshua's abilities as a Reader and Borrower, the Stitches on Pericles Station, the Hunters on Beaumonde, even the Reavers on Miranda were all were sign posts on the road to hell, with humanity being driven there by omnipotent moral busybodies convinced their tampering was justified by reasons that only they understood. Those reasons had ruined Mike, had created Joshua and Arden, and had stolen my youngest brother. There was a chance that Nikolai still lived, but it was slim to nonexistent that he remained self-aware, his old self intact. From what Omar showed us, men and women were subsumed by the process and came out vastly different. Did they retain their memories and personalities? There was no knowing. There were no reports of the victims ever being heard again by their families and friends. I saw again the liquid grace of the Hunters that Blue Sun had sent after us under the streets of Beaumonde, saw again their inhuman speed and stamina. I still bore the scars of that encounter, effaced by Kiera's skill with the knife, but still there. Not that I needed a reminder how incredibly wrong the Hunters were. And now my brother was numbered among them.<br><br> |
| − | + | Lagniappe needed no help from me and Nika was wasting no time getting us out of atmo for Equinox. I braced myself with a hand to either side and knowing the noise wouldn't make it past the compartment door, I finally let myself grieve for Nikolai, for my parents, and for everything I'd lost waiting for the perfect moment to come home.<br><br> | |
---<br><br> | ---<br><br> | ||
