Last Guard (Psy-Changeling Trinity #5) - Nalini Singh Page 0,4
it would haunt him till the day he died.
“Fruitless obsession will lead you to your grave, Canto,” he muttered, repeating words his grandmother had said to him.
Ena had also added: “Mercants have a gift for obsession. It’s led to prison sentences, epic heroism, great works of art, and madhouses. Choose your path.”
Turning to the screen to the left of his workstation with a scowl, he brought up the Trinity Accord Convention newsfeed. As he watched, Silver delivered her speech with poise and confidence. She gave no indication that she was in any way intimidated by being in a physical forum filled with the intelligentsia of all three of the world’s races.
Psy. Changeling. Human.
Neither did she appear the least ruffled by the knowledge that her speech was being broadcast to every corner of the globe. As director of EmNet, the worldwide Emergency Response Network, she’d learned to live in the spotlight and use it to advance the aims of EmNet.
“We will fail if we permit petty squabbles and power plays to divide us. There are those who are counting on your minds and hearts being small and mean and without generosity. They intend to break the world by putting pressure on those fracture points. Do not allow it.”
She walked off the stage on that crisp order.
Pushing away from the main workstation, Canto rolled back the wheels of the chair designed for his long and solid frame. It had a hover function for those times when access was otherwise impossible—but as he’d wanted a streamlined chair devoid of armrests, those controls, as well as his backup computronic brake controls, were on a small side panel on the right-hand side of his seat.
Black on black, the panel mimicked the curve of his wheel and looked at first glance to be nothing more than a design feature. As it was, Canto rarely used the hover mode, far preferring to manually operate the chair.
The constant physical motion helped keep his upper body strong. Not that he relied only on that. He’d set up a full gym in another section of his home, complete with a robotic physiotherapy device that helped him exercise the legs that were a part of his body, but that he couldn’t feel.
He had, however, long ago rejected the full-body robotic brace designed for bipedal motion. Of a far more streamlined design than in its original iterations, the brace worked well for many. Canto wasn’t one of those people. The few times he’d tried it, he’d felt as if he had insects dancing on his spine and buzzing in his brain.
“Electro-biogen-feedback loop,” the robotics expert had muttered. “Might be caused by the innovative wiring in your spine.”
Whatever the cause, Canto far preferred his sleek black chair with its highly maneuverable wheels. Heading to another area of his large, windowless, and temperature-controlled office area—a place Arwen had termed his “computronic dungeon”—he picked up his phone and sent a message to Silver: You were brilliant.
Pride was a conflagration inside him.
Canto had said “fuck it” to Silence long before its official fall. That was what happened when a child empath lived inside your airtight anchor shields, and the PsyNet flowed through your mind in an endless river, bringing with it the flotsam and jetsam of the lives of millions of people, powerful and weak, brave and cowardly, good and bad.
Then there’d been his childhood—the school had been the final part of a play that had run since his birth, and it had nearly broken him. Without 3K, without the example of her stubborn fury and refusal to surrender, he might have given up. But if she, so small and physically far weaker, could fight on, he had no excuse. But the fight had burned any hope of Silence right out of him—he’d run on pure rage.
Sometimes, in his dreams, he still heard 3K laugh, though he’d only ever heard it once in real life. In a moment when their teacher had turned his back and Canto had made a face mimicking the man’s bulging eyes and puffed-out cheeks when he laid down the rules.
Bright, brilliant laughter, unafraid and wild.
She’d been the strongest of them all. And the people in charge had hurt her for it.
Not expecting a quick response from Silver, he was turning his attention to one of his multiple screens when his phone chimed. He glanced at it to see: Zdravstvuyte, Canto. Silver’s talking to the brains. She was dazzling, wasn’t she? My magnificent Starlight who takes no prisoners.