Unity Carl Stubblefield (read book TXT) 📖

blow-back on me if it got out that I’ve told you what I have. And I would be very put out if that happened. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah,” Gus said, his throat suddenly feeling dry and parched.

There was a grunt of acknowledgement and BoJack stormed away.

Gus looked around the common room and was relieved that, for the time being, no one was there to witness the spectacle.

So stupid! You knew how guilty that made you feel when you did it, that should have told you it was wrong! Gus mentally berated himself.

The decision was cringe-worthy when he looked at it in retrospect. He battled with himself to justify how he needed to level to be a part of the team, and get to a point where he could actually contribute and not be a liability, but they all sounded hollow, even to himself. The shame made him want to avoid BoJack, but he knew he couldn’t do that. He was never good at apologizing and had lost friendships before by avoiding confrontation, just wanting to escape how uncomfortable the conversation would be.

Was he a “taker” like BoJack had said? The words stung, but they hurt all the more because as Gus reviewed his decisions, he found most were driven by selfish motives. All with the guise of getting to the place where he someday could help others.

But the headaches! Gus noted that his symptoms had disappeared. Blessed relief, but was it worth it? He wasn’t sure if he had learned or gained whatever “key” the Oracle implied Gus needed to get from BoJack, but a fundamental difference between them stood out in stark contrast. BoJack put others’ welfare before his own, and his focus was a mutual win for all parties involved.

And what about Prime? What was he supposed to learn from her? They both seemed like deep rivers that showed none of the turbulence underneath a calm exterior. Gus felt his own life was reckless flailing on an inner tube in the rapids, just trying to stay afloat. And now he probably just blew a chance to gain those skills he would have learned in the Academy. A willing mentor whom he just pissed off, probably for good.

Gus felt sick to his stomach. Yet another good thing I’ve screwed up…

Chapter Fifty-Four

Home Sweet Home

Seneschal dropped Gus off at a transit station near his home before the rest of the Crew made their way back to Faction headquarters. He was familiar with the neighborhood, but everything seemed… smaller, somehow. As if he had lived here as a child and then grew up and the dimensions were not as he remembered them.

He began walking to his apartment, becoming aware of the looks people were giving him. Usually he was in what he called “stealth mode” before he had abilities. No one noticed him, or ever paid him any mind in the past. Granted, his suit was torn a bit and a little ragged and smudged. The huge black polearm he was carrying was less than subtle as well.

Getting some new clothes wouldn’t be a bad idea.

He stopped at a nearby bank kiosk and pressed his finger on the screen and waited as his eye was scanned.

Biometrics evaluated… confirmed!

Welcome, Gus Vannett.

How may I help you today?

Gus checked his balance and was surprised to see the amount of money in his account. Without any expenses, he had accrued nine paychecks directly into his account as if he were still working on Graviton’s station. The process was most likely automated and with no one to change the system, it would continue in perpetuity. Whatever the reason, Gus was flush for the first time in a while. He withdrew some money and tried on some clothes in a nearby shop.

It took a while to find something in his size. He couldn’t get a thigh down the pants leg of a pair of jeans whose size was loose on him before everything had happened. After a couple tries, he found something that fit his new frame. He picked up a couple sweatpants and shirts, shoes and socks. Even his shoe size had increased from a 10.5 to a 12.

So weird!

He hadn’t thought about his physical changes in any real way, and was lost in thought as he walked back to his apartment, not realizing that he didn’t have a key until he was entering the parking lot. He stopped in to see the landlord.

At first, she was upset that he had disappeared without a trace, and that she should have sold his things. Her attitude was mollified as Gus paid his rent to current and an extra $50 on top of back rent to get another key. Pretty steep, considering she had a whole stack of them already made in that drawer, but Gus could care less.

He opened the door to his old apartment. A hot, stale smell like a thrift store hit him as he stepped inside. A layer of dust coated everything. He had lost everything he had owned of major value on the station, and the small room that greeted him was more spartan than he remembered. He looked at one wall and saw the empty wall mount where he had hung his favorite guitar. He walked around the tiny room; it seemed like forever ago that he had lived here.

He hit the air conditioning as he entered the small kitchen, which rattled noisily to life. He then pulled apart the yellowing curtains to open some windows in an attempt to freshen up things. The A/C always took a while to ramp up and get cold. He knew there was nothing perishable in the fridge, but he cracked it open anyways. Some condiments, a jar of pickles in the far back and a single soda. He grabbed it and opened it as he toured his old home, feeling like a stranger.

If he knocked all of the walls out, the whole thing was probably around the same size as the master suite back