The Impossible Future: Complete set Frank Kennedy (freenovel24 .TXT) 📖

Sam none of this when they spoke. Even over thirty-four million kilometers, Michael heard the desolation in her voice. She wasn’t the cocky Chancellor-in-waiting he fled alongside in Alabama; the confident but softer girl he fell in love with; or the spirited firebrand who shook up her Presidium. In short, the Sam Pynn he loved had morphed into a woman who was numb, devoid of answers.

The circastream lasted twenty minutes, but they spent half that time in silence. She was lost. Come home on the first ship, he told her. No, she insisted. Not until I finish my business here.

That was seven days ago. Now, from his berth on the Level 6-G platform, Michael watched the STS Hadrian enter the port. A tidy liner at seventy kilometers long, the Hadrian came in escorted by a pair of personal Scrams hired by Finnegan to intercept the ship at high Earth orbit and shadow it to the ground. Finnegan insisted they take no chances. Rumors were already spreading about Sam, why she was on Vasily, and why her Chief of Staff was assassinated instead.

“Too early to tell if she’s compromised,” Finnegan said when he ordered the escort. “Once we have the official UG mission report, we’ll have a solid picture. In the meantime, Michael: Prudence.”

He hated the word. It aligned too closely with how all the Chancellors seemed to be responding to the threat. Prudence. Caution. Discretion. Like paralyzed politicians and frightened old men. Michael thought all their bravado and arrogance masked a race of people who were scared shitless about the fight in front of them.

“What we need to do,” he told Finnegan in a hushed tone, “is kill these bastards because they sure as hell ain’t done with us.”

“The day will come, Michael. I promise. My teams are still searching, and I’m sure the intel from Vasily will open new doors. In the meantime, channel your energy to support Samantha.”

Michael spent all day bouncing off differing emotions, unsure how to greet the woman he hadn’t held in fourteen days. His heart danced at the prospect of wrapping her in his arms and later taking her to bed. The smell of her hair, the sweet moisture on her lips, her fingers caressing his beard. She could seduce him without trying. Call me a chump, he once told Rikard, but as long as I know she’s gonna be there at the end of the day, I’m all in.

He couldn’t explain the depth of his love, how it came over him in such a rush after they entered the Collectorate, or how he’d come to believe their fates were tied together until death. His grandmother would have said it was part of God’s plan, but Michael was torn. He grew up in the church but never took it seriously, and no one on this Earth believed in a higher power. Yet he stood next to Sam five times and faced certain death.

It’s gotta be more than luck, he told Rikard. Look at you and me. Two dudes from difference universes fighting the same revolution. What are the odds?

If there was a plan, Michael didn’t expect to have answers until after his last breath. Today wasn’t about destiny, luck, or even love. No, this was about being a man who had to keep it together for his woman and pull her through this tragedy. It was about fighting anxiety despite not having a drink in three hours – the longest he’d gone in weeks. It was about being a goddamn grownup, something Michael hadn’t much figured out.

When the Hadrian’s starboard passenger doors pixelated and disappeared, Sam was not among the first to exit. A steady stream of refugees – a blend of Chancellors and colonial tourists – filtered out onto the platform. Some encountered waiting friends or family, while others seemed disoriented, unsure of their next steps. One man bent down and kissed the ground. Medics and customs staff ignited holocubes to process the unscheduled arrivals.

A few dozen survivors moved beyond the ship before a pair of children exited with tentative steps. They hid their eyes behind dark glasses. A doctor intercepted both, applying a holo-injection into their necks. Michael heard about this protocol. Visitors who spent their entire lives in space needed shielding from direct sunlight at first and medicated as they fought Earth’s gravity.

Sam departed last. Wearing a black-and-brown bodysuit Michael never saw before, Sam leaned into the doctor and spoke briefly to him and the children. She gave the boy and girl a smile and a wave. A day earlier, she sent a message to his stack about children she was bringing back from Vasily. Twins. Likely orphaned. She didn’t explain why, only that they’d soon be living at the Pynn Compound.

He couldn’t worry about that now.

Just be the man she loves, he thought. Keep it simple.

Finnegan’s security shadowed him as he strolled toward the ship. Sam dropped her smile after the doctor led away the children and wiped her eyes. When she saw Michael bearing down, Sam froze. Michael wasn’t sure what to make of it. It was as if … surely, she expected him to meet her at Hinton. Was she steeling herself against more tears? Putting on a brave Chancellor face?

He didn’t wait to find out.

Michael coursed a hand through her hair and brought her close. He whispered in her ear.

“I’m so sorry about Pat. I’m so sorry, babe.”

Her arms wrapping around him, she said, “We’re still here. How are we still here?”

He heard his grandmother’s voice, thought about his latest narrow escape at the Entilles Club, and relied on his first instinct.

“I reckon there must be a plan for us.”

They kissed, tender and fleeting.

“What plan, sweetie?”

“Don’t think the Man Upstairs has a habit of spelling out His plans. At least, that’s they taught what me in between ‘Hallelujah!’ and