“Lies?” asks Elias. “Or legend?”
“Vergen, bring the telepath. Let us press forward and deal with these misbegotten rioters.”
Kristanson’s plan is flawed on many levels. Not only does he fail to account for Kajo being asleep, but he assumes Kajo controls the rioters.
We’ll be okay? asks Hattie, surprising me.
Hattie. I’d forgotten you were there. You’re so quiet in your head.
Compared to real life? I know. I just get nervous, so I guess I talk to fill space. Probably the same way I pick my nose too much.
She’s even consciously aware of her little personality ticks. Maybe she belongs in the category of the most unusual minds I’ve ever met. And her nose is rather itchy, now that she mentions it. For her birthday I will get her a bottle of shampoo and a pair of nose hair clippers.
Oh, that would be lovely, Miss Kwan. But how can we save Elias?
Kristanson will soon learn that Kajo does not control the mob. We’ll escape with Elias during the chaos. Stay there, I’m on my way .
Won’t you stay with me? I don’t wanna be left here with these bullies .
Not keen on it . While I occupy Hattie’s mind I can’t move about on my own. I could never concentrate enough to walk at the same time, much less speak to people and seek transportation.
On the other hand, I’d be leaving Hattie alone with Vergen if I dissolved the merge now. I will stay then. And if he raises a hand to her, I will fry his mind.
You won’t. I can sense it.
No, I won’t, but he’ll have a long nap.
Hattie flashes me a burst of happiness-relief and retreats into the back of her head. It still amazes me that she, a non-telepath, can do that so easily. I must remember to ask my grandfather about it.
Kristanson walks us forward three blocks to where the mob has reformed. They’ve overturned two cars which now burn, silhouetting the gathered people in glaring red light. About fifty people block the road. They carry bricks and bottles. One even has an expensive gas-powered chainsaw.
The unmistakable metallic clumps precede a ‘Canoid rounding the corner. It has a single arm with a drill attached at the elbow. The drill-bit is twice as tall as me. Made for auguring lampposts in packed stone.
“Foolish peasants,” says Kristanson. “Let me reward you for that surprise attack on me.”
He points at the crowd and a series of bolts jump from his finger. One strikes the man with the chainsaw, sending him sprawling as it explodes in his hand. Two bolts dart into the crowd and quick death follows. The rioters scatter in panic.
A brick lands in front of me and rebounds off the cobblestones to graze my shin. Vergen yanks my arm when I twist in pain.
“We need to fork weaves on the mechanoid,” says Elias. “You go high, I’ll go low.”
Together, they attack the ‘Canoid. Kristanson scores a hit on the powercore, which bursts into tall thin flames like a large propane torch. The telekinetic pilot passes out under a bolt from Elias, but there’s a telekinetic in the retreating crowd who takes control of the ‘Canoid and has it follow them.
“Got it,” says Elias.
“They’re sending it back for repairs,” says Kristanson, frowning. “Let’s keep after it and try to finish it off.”
The mechanoid is able to move at normal human speeds even with its burning powercore, thanks to the telekinetic’s hand. It spews white ash from its smokestack, which the wind scatters our direction. It’s like a weird summertime snowfall.
I can’t tear my eyes from the swaying metal monster. The pilot’s body in the chest-cavity cockpit is thrown side to side with each lurching step. The poisonous smoke venting from its core is burning his lungs. Why won’t someone in the crowd try to help him?
The Coalition group follows the crowd closer to the tax office. I see a large mob of rioters forming. Perhaps as many as two hundred yelling, angry
“Vergen, bring the telepath. Let us press forward and deal with these misbegotten rioters.”
Kristanson’s plan is flawed on many levels. Not only does he fail to account for Kajo being asleep, but he assumes Kajo controls the rioters.
We’ll be okay? asks Hattie, surprising me.
Hattie. I’d forgotten you were there. You’re so quiet in your head.
Compared to real life? I know. I just get nervous, so I guess I talk to fill space. Probably the same way I pick my nose too much.
She’s even consciously aware of her little personality ticks. Maybe she belongs in the category of the most unusual minds I’ve ever met. And her nose is rather itchy, now that she mentions it. For her birthday I will get her a bottle of shampoo and a pair of nose hair clippers.
Oh, that would be lovely, Miss Kwan. But how can we save Elias?
Kristanson will soon learn that Kajo does not control the mob. We’ll escape with Elias during the chaos. Stay there, I’m on my way .
Won’t you stay with me? I don’t wanna be left here with these bullies .
Not keen on it . While I occupy Hattie’s mind I can’t move about on my own. I could never concentrate enough to walk at the same time, much less speak to people and seek transportation.
On the other hand, I’d be leaving Hattie alone with Vergen if I dissolved the merge now. I will stay then. And if he raises a hand to her, I will fry his mind.
You won’t. I can sense it.
No, I won’t, but he’ll have a long nap.
Hattie flashes me a burst of happiness-relief and retreats into the back of her head. It still amazes me that she, a non-telepath, can do that so easily. I must remember to ask my grandfather about it.
Kristanson walks us forward three blocks to where the mob has reformed. They’ve overturned two cars which now burn, silhouetting the gathered people in glaring red light. About fifty people block the road. They carry bricks and bottles. One even has an expensive gas-powered chainsaw.
The unmistakable metallic clumps precede a ‘Canoid rounding the corner. It has a single arm with a drill attached at the elbow. The drill-bit is twice as tall as me. Made for auguring lampposts in packed stone.
“Foolish peasants,” says Kristanson. “Let me reward you for that surprise attack on me.”
He points at the crowd and a series of bolts jump from his finger. One strikes the man with the chainsaw, sending him sprawling as it explodes in his hand. Two bolts dart into the crowd and quick death follows. The rioters scatter in panic.
A brick lands in front of me and rebounds off the cobblestones to graze my shin. Vergen yanks my arm when I twist in pain.
“We need to fork weaves on the mechanoid,” says Elias. “You go high, I’ll go low.”
Together, they attack the ‘Canoid. Kristanson scores a hit on the powercore, which bursts into tall thin flames like a large propane torch. The telekinetic pilot passes out under a bolt from Elias, but there’s a telekinetic in the retreating crowd who takes control of the ‘Canoid and has it follow them.
“Got it,” says Elias.
“They’re sending it back for repairs,” says Kristanson, frowning. “Let’s keep after it and try to finish it off.”
The mechanoid is able to move at normal human speeds even with its burning powercore, thanks to the telekinetic’s hand. It spews white ash from its smokestack, which the wind scatters our direction. It’s like a weird summertime snowfall.
I can’t tear my eyes from the swaying metal monster. The pilot’s body in the chest-cavity cockpit is thrown side to side with each lurching step. The poisonous smoke venting from its core is burning his lungs. Why won’t someone in the crowd try to help him?
The Coalition group follows the crowd closer to the tax office. I see a large mob of rioters forming. Perhaps as many as two hundred yelling, angry
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