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(1)
What kind of mind made all this possible? This building, these projects? Norel had to be rich. The rich have extra hours in their days. The rich can augment. The rich can build on their brain power simply by hiring more — uncredited servants, disposable geniuses, thousands of drifting, rootless flowers — not even flowers — the means to flowers — pollen.
Oh well. The rich boy went too far didn’t he? The gifted received too much. Norel had called the lightning. Norel had called the attention of the Colonel, and the Colonel had come and taken it all.
Still... still, what kind of mind could have done all this?
(2)
Miller spent, what would be his final hours, reflecting on bad decisions and life choices, and wondered if anyone within the consortium would realise he had been gone longer than he should. Why should he be the one to pay for the consortium’s greed? His mind flashed back to a time that didn’t involve the work he did for the consortium. A time of joy and happiness. A time from his youth. Everything came forward in his mind as he tried to block out anything related to his current situation - and then Hyde stirred.
(3)
“I didn't mix you up,” a small voice from within my hair said. “I can have the mommy I want.”
She let go of me slowly, and said nothing more as I helped her lower herself back to the bed. Instantly, she was asleep.
"Mommy." It's not a word that has any real meaning to a Succubus, we don't reproduce that way; but it pierced me to the heart anyway.
I turned out the light as I get to the door, and turned to her sleeping form. “You can call me that anytime you like.”
Human it is.
(4)
After little under an hour, Ian was content with the drawing. He looked over the small details in the face he just drew. Everything seemed accurate, a good representation of his memory. "Who are you?" he asked the girl in the image, his mystery girl in the floral dress. He cast the picture onto the wall, where it landed in a simple but elegant frame, next to the entrance. He walked over for one last look before he blinked out of Sight. It didn't take long after that for Ian to drift into a deep, but restless sleep.
(5)
“My naive Wil… I would never destroy that sacred place. The Forgotten Mountains are the birthplace of our almighty Kai, the Creator and Protector of the burning core of Rondure, the volcanoes and the everlasting fires. Surely you remember that, despite your fraternisations lately…” Bedelia purred.
I couldn’t help it any longer. I had to look at her; that older version of Wilona, that skinny, petite woman, with the ebony hair and the big, green eyes, the full lips and the huge scar, that was spreading from her left eyebrow, all the way down till her chin.
(6)
Rohan stopped in his tracks. Had that kiss really been his decision or was it Riley's? Many choices had been made the last few weeks that he now questioned. The prostitute certainly was Riley’s idea though Rohan had gone along with it. He knew without any doubt that he would not have chosen to buy three hours with a lady of the evening without Riley’s urging. Rohan also recalled the cook asking about preferences for dessert and he voiced his desire for cherry pie without a thought. Cherry pie had never appealed to him although it had been Riley’s favorite. Was Riley somehow invading all his thoughts and desires? Tea-length mother of the groom and bride dresses look vintage
(7)
This is the part where you stand quiet and still and don’t say anything, letting the uncomfortable silent scenario wash over you and become like a scream in its soundlessness. Much like survivalists suggest doing when encountering a hellcat of the Felifax system and you want to convince it you’re not prey. Except you’re not dealing with a wild alien animal with two rows of scissoring teeth and a bodyweight that is more than five times your own. This is much worse. You’re dealing with a crazy person.
(8)
The sky was cloudless and the familiar star patterns clearly visible. The eight-pointed Crown of Destiny graced the horizon, slowly rising to take its due place as ruler of the winter night. Not for the first time, Jariq wondered what it would be like to travel beyond the stars, to walk on other worlds under other heavens, to stand in an alien landscape and look up at strange constellations. What it would be like to live in a place which took for granted the amazing technologies he had seen and where people walked as little less than gods with the power to conquer the whole starry vault of the Universe.
(9)
"Quiet, Korac," I whispered, hoping to preserve the welcome reflection of my pre-teen bedroom. My father's vintage memorabilia adorned its walls. I saw the cherry red 1968 Chevy Corvette; the orange 1970 Plymouth Roadrunner; the green 2297 Dodge Marauder; and my favorite, the black 2817 Trinity Vanguard. I heard them rev, purr and exchange the disparate growls of mechanical perfection. I saw them lurch and shudder. I smelled their perfectly realized cologne of gasoline and motor oil. "Please," I begged, "I want to ride along." But it wasn't to be. Dr. Bishop's memory cocktail took us down a different road.
(10)
Once again I asked myself why I couldn't just fall in love with this kind, uncomplicated, strong, straightforward guy. Out of nowhere Aidan's face floated in front of my eyes, and I began to think the unthinkable. I put a lid on that pretty sharply I can tell you. Me? In love with Aidan smegging Stuart? I should bloody well think not. Charlie watched my face and laughed sympathetically.
"Life" he said "can be a crock of shit, n'est ce pas?"
"Oh aye" I agreed. "It smegging can. Breakfast? Full English?"
"Amen to that."
(11)
Saint Torin's Hold stood as a welcome relief from the Mirrorholds, with their endless, dizzying reflections. The reflective walls were in Saint Torin's also, but the Raedelleans of Lakehold and Shore had covered these walls with a variety of tapestries and other effects telling stories and legends of home. The Engineer blinked his eyes to clear away the residual optical effects of the outer Mirrorholds and paused in the entrance to survey the Hold.
(12)
Jonas glanced up to a sliver of sky. A single star blinked and vanished behind a bank of rolling clouds. He sighed and closed his eyes, allowing droplets of chilled water to kiss his cheeks. The dead air offered a necessary reprieve; from the city, from the public, from himself. The drums of commerce faded into the background, and for a time, the night stirred as any other.
(13)
Clyde pondered his hunting options. Ducks were sleeping near the small lake. Squirrels hopped around nearby trees. This creature was closer, and the snail shark could feel his stomach rumble as he studied the chubby hands. Penny’s words came back to him. ‘No cats, dogs, or babies.’ He had met babies. They stayed in wheeled contraptions or were carried in the arms of adult humans. Surely this was not a baby? And he was very hungry.
The creature moved, sending the sharp stench of urine across Clyde’s body. Babies, he recalled, sometimes smelled like this. This creature might still be a baby, and therefore on the banned list.
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