Chapters (56)
- PROLOGUE
- PART 1
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- PART 2
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- PART 3
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- PART 4
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- PART 5
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- EPILOGUE
It’s a static model, Kovacs. It’s a sculpture of despair.
I stared down at him. He was barely moving, he’d be easy to kill.
I stared at him.
Self hatred—
Shadow play—
Mother—
Out of nowhere, an image of hanging beneath the Martian eyrie at Tekitomura from a grip welded shut. Paralysed and suspended. I saw my hand clamped on the cable, holding me up. Keeping me alive.
Locking me in place.
I saw myself unhinge the grip, one numbed finger at a time, and move.
I got up.
I got off him and stepped back. Stood staring, trying to work out what
I’d just done. He blinked up at me.
“You know,” I said, and my voice jammed rustily. I had to start again, quietly, wearily. “You know, fuck you. You weren’t at Innenin, you weren’t on Loyko, you weren’t at Sanction IV or Hun Home. You’ve never even been to Earth. What the fuck do you know?”
He spat out blood. Sat up and wiped his smashed mouth. I laughed mirthlessly and shook my head.
“You know what, let’s see you do it better. Think you can sidestep all my fuck-ups? Go on then. Fucking try.” I moved aside and waved at the moored ranks of skimmers by the dock. “Got to be a few of those that weren’t shot up all that badly. Choose your own ride out of here. No one’s going to be looking for you, get moving while you’re ahead.”
He picked himself up a fraction at a time. His eyes never left mine, his hands trembled with tension, floating at guard. Maybe I hadn’t broke his arm after all. I laughed again, and it felt better this time.
“I mean it. Let’s see you steer my fucking life better than I have. Let’s see you not end up like I have. Go on.”
He stepped past me, still wary, face grim.
“I will,” he said. “I don’t see how I could do much worse.”
“Then fucking go. Get the fuck out of here.” I grabbed at the fresh anger, the urge to knock him down again and finish it. I cranked it back down. It took surprisingly little effort. My voice came out even again. “Don’t fucking stand here bitching to me about it, let’s see you do better.”
He gave me one more guarded look, and then he walked away, to the edge of the dock and towards the less damaged skimmers.
I watched him go.
A dozen metres away, he paused and turned back. I thought he started to lift one hand.
And a liquid gout of blasterfire splashed out from across the dock. It caught him in the head and chest and torched away everything in its path.