War S D Perry

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As the transport began its ascent into Bunda's outer atmosphere, Lara and Jess moved forward, taking
seats near the piloting console..Noguchi glanced back and saw that they'd strapped the unconscious Ellis
to a bench, his arms folded across his narrow chest. It was amazing to her, how young he was. She'd
pictured him as much older, as a lined and weathered man, but the person Jess had pulled out of the suit
barely looked out
of his teens. With his face wiped clean, he seemed even more like a child, pale and fragile.
"How is he?" Noguchi asked.
Lara answered. "His pulse is good, but beyond that . . ."
She trailed off, and the three of them sat quietly for a moment. Noguchi could hardly believe that it was
over; not just their experience on Bunda, but her life with the Clan.
"So, where do we go from here?" Jess asked softly, his eyes closed, his voice thick with approaching
sleep.
"Home," Lara said, looking out at the approaching stars, her expression peaceful, tired, and a little sad
but at rest.
Home.
Lara was talking about Earth, but Noguchi thought there was more to it, the planet's name inspiring none
of the warm and lovely things that Lara's answer had inspired. It was the word for feelings she'd never
fully understood and she savored it, tasting it, wondering how it could mean so much now.
Home. Someplace I haven't been, yet.
They moved out into the void, the soothing lull of the engines putting her passengers to sleep, Noguchi
looking forward to experiences she knew would put the Hunt to shame, to a life that would be whole and
fulfilling and new; they were going home.
EPILOGUE
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He slept, and as he had before, he dreamed.
He dreamed in concepts, in pictures of ideas. That there was strength and heat in the cold emptiness,
that there was light in the dark, that time and thought were fluid, yielding to the pressure of his touch. He
dreamed that there was no loneliness, no pain and when the fabric of his dreams began to thin, when
shredded, ugly holes began to appear in the fine cloth, he fought bit-terly to keep his dreams close to him,
to keep himself whole.
It was no use. After what seemed an eternal strug-gle the beautiful darkness melted away, and there was
pain, and he was alone. The war was lost . . . but he thought that his name was Brian, and in thinking it,
felt that perhaps losing wasn't the end of everything good.
He settled into a deep and healing sleep, and did not dream anymore. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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