“Unhappy. What has the Flying Voice told you?” “I am not unhappy, but perhaps I’m a bit disturbed by something Enduring Bias said—the way boiling blood is disturbed in a cauldron.” Ussa closed his jaws in a Sangheili smile. He liked the way Sooln expressed herself. Always a touch of the poetic. It was one of the qualities that endeared her to him. “Tell me what has your cauldron bubbling, then.” They were walking in a place that Sooln called Ussa’s Garden. It was an arboreal, rugged setting on t...he secondary shell of the shield world, far beneath the metallic sky, the high, curved protective surface, concave from this vantage beneath it. Enduring Bias had imparted to them that the Forerunners built the sheathing to protect this world from more than one sort of danger—and it had more than one sort of protection. There were variously shaped plants here—some twisted, some like frozen bomb-bursts—and there was an artificial breeze sighing from outcroppings of gray and gold stone.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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