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Book online Ā«Sword of Minerva (The Guild Wars Book 10) Mark Wandrey (e novels to read .TXT) šŸ“–Ā». Author Mark Wandrey



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narrowed his eyes and ran the diagnostics on his pinplants. The new ones made from a design that had just appeared in his mind one day were far, far more advanced than the standard Winged Hussarsā€™ pinplants. Those were based on a design dating back to the Great Galactic War, created for some long-gone simian species that had been similar to Humans.

Standard pinplants sat just above the ear, lined up with the ear canal, on either side or both. Woven into the skull with nano-wires, they provided a good location to access both the temporal lobe, where short term memory resided, as well as the frontal lobe, which tied together many higher brain functions the pinplants augmented. It was connected to other areas, as well, though mainly for the monitoring of auditory input.

The new design was behind the ear, directly behind the ear canal, and tied directly into the Wernickeā€™s area, which dealt with written and spoken language. It was linked to the temporal and frontal lobes, too, but had major connections to the hippocampus and anterior cingulate cortex, both areas associated with long term memory in Humans. The new design had made Nemo quite excited, but heā€™d never explained why. Heā€™d just taken the new pinplant nano-infrastructure Sato had provided and installed it.

The pinplants said they were fine. Well, thatā€™s good. Next he ran a feature not found in standard pinplants: real-time recall. He could play back exactly what he was seeing, thinking, hearing, even tasting. The playback showed him walking down the promenade, talking with Rick, when he suddenly stopped. Stopped andā€¦nothing. He hadnā€™t thought about anything.

The image of the university lab was a fresh echo in his mindā€™s eye, despite the pinplants not showing the memory. No record meant the memory hadnā€™t fully formed in his cognitive center. Then where had it come from, and how had it gotten into his consciousness? It had been Talus. He was sure of it. But heā€™d never been to Talus. Had he?

Rick was still looking at him with his glowing blue eyes, no doubt analyzing his physical condition. ā€œIā€™m fine,ā€ he said. ā€œI think itā€™s the new pinplants.ā€

ā€œThe ones Nemo installed before you left the Hussars?ā€

ā€œYes,ā€ Sato said.

ā€œTheyā€™re unusual, from what I understand.ā€

You have no idea. Sato stood, steady in the light gravity. ā€œSee, no problem.ā€

ā€œOkay,ā€ Rick said and gestured to the promenade. ā€œLead on.ā€

As Sato continued, he could feel Rickā€™s gaze on his back, watching. For the first time, he wondered where his new companionā€™s loyalties might lie and whether he was grateful for being brought back to life. Youā€™re better off with me than the other copies of you, Sato thought. Heā€™d gotten Nemo to agree not to bring the other clones to life. Only Nemoā€™s word wasnā€™t worth the flashes of light it took to convey them. Nemo always did what Nemo wanted to do.

An image of a Wrogul floated toward him as if out of a dream. He was screaming something.

Sato shook his head to clear it, then reached up to brush his hair to the side to cover it. Rick didnā€™t speak, so he must have bought the cover. Trying not to think about much except their destination, Sato led them toward the merc pit district.

ā€œItā€™s funny,ā€ Rick said as they passed the gaudily marked facilities.

ā€œWhatā€™s funny?ā€ Sato asked.

ā€œI was a merc for more than a few years, but Iā€™ve never been to a merc pit. Funny, huh?ā€

ā€œI suppose,ā€ Sato said distractedly. He was looking for signs of what must exist near any merc pit, especially in a relatively out of the way place like Karma. Once again, he didnā€™t know how he knew what to look for; he just did. What he didnā€™t notice was how many eyes tracked them intently as they passed.

* * *

Rick couldnā€™t quite figure Sato out. In so many ways, he was as knowledgeable and smart as any of the great scientists from Earthā€™s past. But he seemed to have the wisdom and street smarts of a 12-year-old boy from Terre Haute on his first visit to the Houston startown. Heā€™s going to get himself killed.

Not long after Satoā€™s ā€˜incidentā€™ on the ringā€™s promenade, he found what heā€™d been looking for. It looked to Rick like the door that used to lead into a merc pit or maybe a little restaurant. At some point in the past, there had been a fire. Space stations took fires very seriously, like any spaceship. Fires could devastate a space vessel in ways a terrestrial fire could never do.

Whatever the cause, some basic repairs had been done, though the storefront had never been reused. Now as he considered it, Rick had noticed a lot of empty storefronts, and not just in the merc pit area. Heā€™d heard there was a small city down on the planet and wondered if it was in relation to an economic issue. Space stations that dealt in trade were usually immune from local economic fluctuations.

Sato leaned against the wall just down from the burned storefront and seemingly watched the crowds shuffle past. Rick took up a position a short distance away to limit the possibility of anyone noticing them together. His electronically enhanced hearing began to pick up sounds inside, and Rick thought he understood now. What didnā€™t make sense was how Sato had known to look for something like this. It didnā€™t fit with his behavior.

After a short time, an elSha stuck its reptilian head out of the crumbled doorway and looked at Sato with a single independent eye. ā€œWhat do you want?ā€

ā€œThought we could do some business,ā€ Sato said casually.

The elSha looked Sato over dubiously. Sato was dressed in a Winged Hussars-style uniform, minus the patches and name tape. Black coveralls werenā€™t exactly distinctive, but another Human might have noticed the green stripes down the arms and legs. ā€œWhat do I

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