Page 61 of Venomous Throne

Inside the compound, the world smelled of ozone and disinfectant. The path forked, one way toward the computer lab, the other toward the living quarters. The compound was shaped like a set of parentheses, the buildings hugging the wall in a defensive crescent, leaving a bare patch of scorched earth in the center. The grass was either dead or synthetically green, depending on how recently someone remembered to turn on the irrigation. I cut across the courtyard, bypassing the kitchen.

Chase was waiting for me, his hands buried in the pockets of his slate-blue jumpsuit. His hair was comically neat, as if the act of maintaining order on his scalp made up for the chaos everywhere else. He gave me a half-wave, not even pausing his conversation into the headset clipped to his jaw. It was impossible to tell who he was talking to. With video games, it could be anyone, anywhere. He peeled it off as I approached, grinning without warmth. “Did you have a nice run, Pestilence?”

I glowered at him. “Where the devil is Sidorov?”

“Well, I missed you too, arsehole!” Chase scratched his neck beard. Hair refused to grow in patches on his chin and cheeks, but the poor guy tried to grow a beard like mine. “Maxim Sidorov is in Cockburn Town, just a few hours’ plane trip away.”

Chase’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he delivered the news.

I swiped a hand over my face. When he told me that I would want to return to take care of an old score, a hit that escaped me time and time again, I knew I wouldn’t rest easy until I accomplished the goal.

“Come this way,” Chase urged, trailing down the hall to the spacious patio that overlooked the jungle.

“What?” I grumbled.

On a table was a bottle of expensive champagne and two flutes.

“We’ve had a good run, you and I,” Chase said, uncorking the bottle. “Since we escaped the convent, we’ve been buddies.”

“Did you seriously lure me halfway around the world to get sentimental on my arse?” I snapped, the accent I gained when I learned English slipping out. I clenched my jaw, struggling to suppress it.

“Look, you did a lot for me!” Chase’s tone grew insistent. “I knew when you didn’t finish the job that it was the end of us. You took a chance on me, and I am a better man, afreeman, for it. I just wanted to say thank you in person. And….”

He paused.

I shifted. Reaching out, I took the champagne flute. “And?”

“I wanted to say goodbye,” he said with a shrug. “Before you turned into a ghost.”

A ghost. Is that what he saw me as? Someone who would drift away when the fates pulled me in another direction.

“I came back, though,” I insisted.

‘More than anything.’

She wanted me to stay.

“Pestilence. You don’t have to hide it from me. This job was different. Look at you, man! You’re miserable!”

I shook my head. “You’re impossible.”

“Emotion, Pestilence, emotion! You’ve come back a changed man. You’re not some unfeeling robot anymore, much to my dismay. How will I ever improve the algorithm for sentient life if I don’t have your zombie ass around to model it after?”

I gave him a dry look. “I don’t belong there.”

“What? In Chicago?”

“With people.”

“You are people,” Chase argued. “You’re human, I mean.”

Am I?I felt things. That was a big change. Places deep inside my chest—places I thought were broken long ago by the devils who raised us—moved, ached, and pulsed with life.

Was that enough to build a life outside this fortress of death?

“Let me finish the job with Maxim, settle the score, and then we’ll see,” I hedged.

“Oh, quit farting around. You’ll off Sidorov and then you’ll be on the next flight to Chicago. You won’t even stop back to see me. This is goodbye, my friend.” Chase sniffed dramatically. “Your girl needs you more than I do.”