The Impossible Future: Complete set Frank Kennedy (freenovel24 .TXT) 📖
- Author: Frank Kennedy
Book online «The Impossible Future: Complete set Frank Kennedy (freenovel24 .TXT) 📖». Author Frank Kennedy
47
T HE LAST TIME ANYONE SLAPPED JAMES, he was in full meltdown after Tom and Marlena Sheridan were shot to death. Ben, the brother who was not, tried to bring him back to reality after Jamie stormed to the jail, baseball bat in hand, set upon vengeance. Ben succeeded, if only for a time. Frances Bouchet did not.
James reacted to the stinging blow with one of his own.
He didn’t realize the damage at first, so consumed in making an instant statement to the mother who bore him to be a monster. Not until the pain on his cheek subsided did James realize she was lying flat on the floor, Valentin reaching for her.
She did not accept her youngest son’s hand.
“You had your chance to kill him,” she told Valentin. “You failed.”
He felt the bitterness in Valentin. This was why he stopped loving her. You’ll see, he told James when asked to describe their mother. Two observations struck James at once: Had he met his mother as a stranger on the street, he would have admired her beauty. She wore her years well, her coiffed strawberry blonde hair draping over her shoulder like a work of art. Her sons carried her eyes. Second, he realized Emil never made a move to defend her against a violent, murderous son. James grabbed Valentin and backed them away before either made another mistake.
“I’m sorry,” James whispered. “I couldn’t help myself. What is wrong with these people?”
Valentin nodded with empathy and came close to tears.
“People?” He tried to laugh. “Is that what they are? I’m the one to be sorry, brother. I’ve made every manner of excuse for them. They are horrible humans, but they gave me the life of a god. How was I supposed to reject them?”
James saw a sudden light in Valentin’s eyes. His brother found a truth worthy of sharing. Valentin pivoted to his mother. Frances massaged her jaw as she returned to the first tier.
“You’re right, Mother,” Valentin said, drawing closer. “You gave us life. Then Father gave us a gift we can never repay. By sacrificing your sons, you made certain we could never become like you.
“You’re right about something else. I did not kill James. He killed me.” He drew a hand against his neck. “And when I was given a second chance, did I thank my creator?” He glanced to Emil. “Not for a second. Instead, I found the brother you deprived me of. I saw the truths you locked away. This is the last day we will ever speak to each other.”
Frances muttered something indecipherable before sharing an alert, comfortable gaze with Emil, who took her cue by offering applause.
“The last day? Very dramatic, son, as if you rehearsed the moment.” When he had everyone’s attention, he continued. “I suppose this means you intend to murder us?”
“James and I have discussed the possibility.”
“I see. Parricide. So, what would be the methodology? You could shoot us. Whoever is standing outside would never reach us in time.” He zeroed in on James. “But I understand you have an especially unique disposal technique. Hot to the touch, I hear.”
As James listened to Emil, he recalled Tom Sheridan, a distant and passive man he now rated as Father of the Year by comparison.
Again, he showed Emil his right hand. “I could burn you to a crisp in seconds. Or I could drag it out, make the pain linger. I could pull it back and start over again. What do you prefer, Daddy?”
“You will make a fine torturer. Your mother and I have long preferred cremation to burial. Do your best, James.”
“You’re not afraid, are you? Don’t matter what we say.”
Emil tipped his brow like the teacher who couldn’t believe the student just asked such an outrageous question.
“Fear is a concept for the timid and the ordinary. Bouchets have no fear. Look at us, James. Look carefully. We are all despicable creatures. You and your brother are killers because you were born into a family of them. Your Mother and I long ago stopped keeping count. Yes, James. Our experiments produced many casualties. However, you have laid waste to thousands in a few days’ time, and you crave more. Valentin has slaughtered how many innocents in the Guard’s name? Oh, he’ll say he did it within the legal framework, but they were just indigos. And now, he has committed to stand at your side, blood in blood. And the Ukrainian girl? The two of you cannot wait to join each other in madness. No, James. Fear is not for the Bouchets.”
Valentin jumped in. “This is why you haven’t left SkyTower in twenty years. The people out there … they know what you are. You’re a disgrace to the Chancellory. To all humans.”
“Quite a declaration, son. Two points of clarification. First, I have not left in twenty-two years and four months. Your mother did make a day trip fifteen years ago. Second, those people you reference have no idea what we have done for them.”
“For them?”
Emil rose as if walking to the front of the stage under the spotlight, expecting rapt wonder from this audience.
“Be a man, Valentin. Open your eyes to reality. If not for our family and the empire we built along with your grandfather, there would be no hope for the Chancellory. Our kind rose to power three thousand years ago, but we have not innovated for centuries. Chancellors have lived off the produce of generations long gone. Satisfied. Complacent.
“You grandfather, Elian, had a different vision. He saw the Chancellory reach out beyond the Collectorate. He expected us to redefine our humanity and embrace the secrets of the expanse. He financed the missions that discovered the Jewels of Eternity drifting beyond our colonies.
“Without those Jewels, Hiebimini would not have fallen, and the Chancellory
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