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it you couldn't call it a conscious decision but something in my head had
become so clever, it knew how to hide away my excess intelligence so I
wouldn't have to suffer. I packed up the memories too... just forgot them all.
Like a completely separate person I didn't want to be.
For twenty years, I went back to dumb old Edward. I might have stayed dumb
forever... except I got dosed with a new shot of venom. That woke something
inside of me the seeds of memories, plus that separate person I'd set aside so
long ago. Who was the spirit that kept possessing me? The spirit was me too:
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the brainy part of me, who saw I needed to be smart again. Bit by bit, Smart
Me worked to join back up with Slow Me. I couldn't tell if the process was
finished, but accepting my responsibility as king had sure closed a lot of the
gap.
There were still a lot of questions to answer... like why the clever half of
my brain had smashed the Sperm-tail anchor and marooned us all on Troyen. Why
trap us in a war zone? What kind of scheme had it worked out with Prope? Was
Smart Me so keen on a showdown with Sam that it cut off our only escape route,
leaving us no choice but to play this out to the end?
No way to tell. A lot of my brainy half's thoughts were still out of touch.
Nothing to do but keep going and hope I was suddenly smart enough to deal with
whatever happened.
But I didn't say any of this out loud. The last thing I wanted was Sam taking
me seriously. Let her keep underestimating me, the way she always had. That
might give me a tactical advantage.
In the back of my mind, some old-Edward part of my soul felt a twinge of
sadness: how I was already scheming, using deceit to get the better of my own
sister. The stakes were too high to do anything else... but I knew why, twenty
years ago, I'd decided I didn't want to be smart.
Sam waited a few more moments for me to say something. When I kept my mouth
shut, she sighed. "Well, brother, it seems I've exhausted your supply of
banter. Anyone else want to join the conversation? How about you with the
knife Festina Ramos, right? My father told me you were coming to cause
trouble. Do you really think I care whether you slit that man's throat?"
"Yes," Festina said in a steely voice. "He's your son. And your father. And
your brother too, for all intents and purposes he looks the same as your
beloved Edward. Quite a trinity in just one package." She slid the scalpel
lightly across Mr. Clear Chest's neck, like she was giving him a dry shave.
"And just one carotid artery. Which could very easily get nicked." Festina
lifted her head and stared straight at the projected image of Sam's face.
"Don't consider this an idle threat. It won't be the first throat I've cut."
Plebon and Tobit drew in their breaths sharply. Whatever Festina was talking
about, both of them must know the story... and their reactions were enough to
convince everybody else Festina wasn't lying.
"All right," Sam said. "You have a knife to my father-brother-son's throat. I
can match that."
Suddenly, the vidscreen vanished. In its place, the glass wall went clear and
a bright light came on inside the cube giving us our first view of what the
cube really contained. Samantha was there, wearing her dress golds the
showiest uniform a navy diplomat owns.
To Sam's left, a gentle perched in front of a control console, monitoring the
cube's flight computer.
And to Sam's right was a beautiful queen I recognized as Innocence. All
grown-up now, bright glossy yellow, shining with strength.
Samantha held a gun to Innocence's head.
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44
TAKING THE CUBE
Dade was the first to move. He grabbed the stun-pistol out of Tobit's holster
and fired at Samantha in the cube. Nothing happened. Not to Sam, at least. I
felt a tingle as the stunner's hypersonics bounced off the cube and echoed
back... but the effect was so thinned out by the time it returned to the
parapet, none of us got knocked for a loop. Nothing more than a scritchy
pins-and-needles sensation that passed in a heartbeat. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]