Earth Thirst (The Arcadian Conflict) - By Mark Teppo Page 0,85
me to kill Hyacinth.”
Mere was right. I needed a trigger. I needed something to force my subconscious to remember what was buried.
And now, I remember too much.
Escobar starts to come out of his chair. Talus is reaching for me, and all I care about is Mere's reactions to my words. Her eyes are widening, and I can't tell if it is in shock or horror.
I hear the tiny plink of glass breaking, and then Talus's head explodes.
THIRTY
Talus is right about one thing, though. I know about efficiency. Escobar has been trying to confuse me, and I've been party to it enough times over the centuries that I should know better, but I let him get under my skin. Inside my head. This is the trouble with fractured memories—with all memory—you seek order. You seek structure. One of the most dangerous things an Arcadian can do is let himself be convinced something is true, because that's what will happen. We'll make it true. Our brains will fix these words—these images—into an unassailable truth.
Their mistake is to think that this confusion will be enough, but I've been a soldier too long. I don't think about fighting any more. It just happens.
Even before the jacketed rifle round makes a mess of Talus's head, I'm in motion. I kick at Escobar's chair, knocking it spinning. He's still half in it, and the sudden weight of the chair against his legs knocks him sprawling. I still have a hand on Mere, and I drag her with me as I back-pedal away from the mess that Talus's headless body is making on the hardwood floor.
Another tiny circle of glass falls out of the windows and Alberto spins around, roaring in pain.
I run parallel to the windows, toward the shelter afforded by the book-filled partitions. It's not Alberto I'm trying to hide from; if it were just him and me, I would stay and slug it out. No, I'm getting away from what I know is coming up in the elevator behind him.
He and Talus weren't going to kill me. They weren't going to risk getting hurt themselves. They were going to use Mere to hold me off until the strike team could arrive. And, as she and I reach the safety of the partitions, I hear the elevator ding and the sound of many boots on the floors. Alberto starts screaming at them to go after me.
The partitions are double-sided bookcases about three meters long with thick steel casters. Heavy, but mobile. Not a bad solution for breaking up large warehouse spaces. Useful if I was trying to build a fort.
The billiards table is equally impressive. Walnut frame with marble legs. The green wool cloth like a pristine glade of new grass. The balls are solid ivory, and I take several, stuffing extras into my pockets. The cues are nice too—solid pieces of lathed ash—but impractical against guns.
Mere, to her credit, is right behind me. I spot a hallway leading away from the billiards room and I jerk my chin toward it, telling her to lead the way.
The men are talking to each other as they approach the partitions, and I hear Alberto's voice in the background, maligning their inability to move quickly enough.
The trouble with rent-a-troops: it doesn't matter how well trained they are, Arcadians will always think they move too slowly. The strike teams come at us through two of the gaps in the partitions, and the first pair open fire as they spot me on the far side of the billiards table. Their bullets wreck a number of the television screens arranged along one of the few fixed walls in the penthouse as I run for the hallway.
The book-filled partitions form an L-shape, running from the windows for ten meters or so before making a right-angle and connecting with the wall. The narrow gap between the last partition and the wall allows access to an actual hallway, and I know it is a dead end, but it's a better space for Mere and me to be in than hiding under the billiards table, hoping no one will notice us.
Immediately on my left as I enter the hallway is a walk-in closet nearly the same size as the rec room, and a capacious master bath. The hallway turns to my right several meters ahead, and at the turn is the master bedroom. Around the corner are several other bedrooms, and Mere is standing in the middle of this hallway, looking at me as if