Vortex
“Every garden and gateway along the way was freighted with memory (her memory). It was hard not to grieve. Vox was dying and there was nothing I could do about it—nothing I could do for lost friends or the family that had ostracized me or the city I had once loved. Nothing except carry my memories and misgivings to a safer place, worlds away.The aircraft bay was an open terrace, protected from the toxic atmosphere by an electrostatic roof. Voxish aircraft were aligned across this vast flat acrea...ge as if they had been planted there, silvery crops in a mechanical garden. The maintenance and flight crews had all gone home to be with their families. My footsteps sounded like water dripping in a vacant room.I found an inconspicuous place at the base of a light tower and sat down and waited. An uncomfortable amount of time passed. I began to think Turk might not show up. That he might have been prevented from showing up. That he might have chosen not to show up. The node had finally infiltrated the parts of his brain that governed love, loyalty, needs, and desires, and with every passing moment the neural webwork grew more subtle and efficient.MoreLess
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