The funny thing is, it’s got nothing to do with the people or the city. It’s just who she is. And these peoplelikeher. They don’t tolerate her. They don’t see her as the new shiny thing they need to get in on. They like her.
Clara finally feels my gaze and when those spark-colored eyes of hers meet mine, she smiles. She doesn’t display, though. It’s weird. Even though the air in Delta is filled with spark, she’s in control of it now. Like somewhere along the way she mastered the subtle art of spark-witching without even joining a cult, or whatever.
There’s so much spark in the air here in Delta City, even I can see it. I don’t even need the overlays anymore. I just concentrate a little and kinda feel for it, and then… there it is. Floating all around me. Like I’m standing in a whole sea of spark.
People walk through it like they don’t even know it’s there.
I haven’t asked anyone yet, but I’m pretty sure theydon’tknow it’s there.
It’s like a secret world just under the one we live in.
My augments have come back online, little by little, ever since the train came roaring out of that tunnel and at three weeks out, I’m fully functional. Like I’m nineteen again. Whichis crazy, because even if I didn’t lose my capabilities ten years ago, at thirty years old I’d still be nearing operational termination.
Nothing lasts forever, after all.
Except me, apparently. I seem to get better with age.
This makes me smile and I hold up my glass of champagne to Clara. She holds hers up back, duplicating the gesture from across the room, then turns back to her friends so she doesn’t come off as rude.
She’s such a fuckin’ kitten.
“Excuse me, are you Captain Tymothy Jarvinen?”
I turn, annoyed, and look at the man who’s askin’. “I might be. Why?”
“The god would like to meet with you.”
“Hmm. Tonight, of all nights?”
The messenger just shrugs. He’s got no idea of the subtleties playing out here. He doesn’t care, either. “Who can explain the whims of gods.”
I feel like this is his standard answer. Something he has learned to say without even thinking. So I just let it go, down my champagne, set the glass down, and invite him to lead the way with a wave of my hand.
He leads and as I follow, I text Clara and let her know I’ll come back to walk her home once my meeting is over.
She sends me a kissing smiley face as a response. A month ago, she didn’t even know emojis existed. Today, she sends me text kisses.
Life, man. It’s a fuckin’ trip.
It has been sixteen yearssince I last took this walk to the God’s Tower at the edge of Delta City and it just now occurs to me that I’ve lived away from him two years longer than I lived with him.
I got augmented. I got deployed. I worked in Sweep. I saw between worlds. I killed people. I saved people. I got kicked out. Brand-new name that came with a pension and a brand-new life.
And still, I’m back here. Right where I started.
Did your god plan this?
Of course he did. Was it from birth? Dunno. But there’s no way that the set of circumstances that put me through all those things lands me right back here without some kind of divine intervention.
Did Delta get me accepted for augmentation?
Certainly. Yes. There’s no way I’d be one of the chosen if my god wasn’t on board. So that’s a given.
But did he kill my career just when it was taking off?
Did he infect my unit so I was forced to kill them?
Did he feed me secret information so I could use it against Sweep command and demand a new name and a pension after I was discharged?
