human.
“Our young hero shows great concern for the fate of the nonoperatives,” Cousin observed. “If only he showed such concern for the fate of his bodyguard, eh?” He brushed Liam’s shoulder and then rested his hand against the door to Syd’s room. “You could have been punished terribly for letting him run off this morning. Do you think Syd would swoon to see you destroyed like he did for those nopes?”
Cousin spoke just loudly enough for Liam to wonder whether Syd could hear him through the door, but just quietly enough that it didn’t seem deliberate.
Liam shrugged.
“One would think mistakes like today’s would be impossible.” Cousin smiled. “Given how closely you watch him.”
“It’s over,” said Liam. “I made a mistake. I confessed to it.”
“I have always been more interested in silences than in confessions,” said Cousin.
Liam kept his mouth shut.
Cousin laughed, his face pulling away from his big white teeth. His smile was indistinguishable from a grimace. “I do appreciate your sense of humor!”
He patted Liam on the back, sucking air in through his teeth.
Looking at Cousin’s face for too long conjured violent fantasies in Liam. It was the kind of face that made a person want to throw a punch. Liam took a deep breath, thought of the waterfall, emotion flowing down and away.
“We’ve work to do tonight,” Cousin told him. He waved his hand and a holo projection appeared in the air in front of him.
Cousin was one of the few who was still allowed to use the old technology. While there was no network anymore, some databases had been rebuilt for the Reconciliation’s own purposes: recorded messages, propaganda broadcasts, surveillance. Liam was allowed to look, but not to touch.
Like so much else in his life.
The image floating in the air before him showed a woman in profile. She had long flowing braids of dark, wiry hair. Her skin was black as the smoke of burning cities. She wore a white smock over her green uniform, her hands were sealed in blue synthetic gloves, and she was working on a collection of holo projections in the air in front of her. She paused, looked straight out of the projection and spoke.
“My name is Dr. Adaeze Khan, and if you are receiving—” she began and Liam detected a Nigerian accent, but then the holo jolted and wobbled; the loop began again. She was working, focused. She turned, looked out, smiled. “My name is Dr. Adaeze Khan, and if you are receiving—” The loop started again. Cousin let it play.
“Dr. Khan,” Cousin said. “Reboot High Command, now a chief medical supervisor for the Reconciliation.”
“My name is Dr. Adaeze Khan, and if you are receiving—”
Liam cleared his throat. “Why her?”
“Tsk, tsk.” Cousin wagged his finger in the air.
“I don’t recognize her,” he said.
“Curiosity is a form of greed, young Liam.” Cousin sighed with mock theatricality. “Acquisitiveness is a thing of the past. We do not lust for material wealth nor do we lust for information we do not require.”
“You don’t need to quote dogma at me,” Liam answered. “I was there when it was written.
You
weren’t.”
Cousin’s face broke again into a smile. “The past is past. Only the future matters now. A future where no one is more privileged than anyone else. Even those who were there at the beginning.”
Liam clenched his jaw. He wouldn’t argue. Cousin didn’t care about the ideological purity of the revolution. He just liked to argue.
“Done already?” Cousin shook his head. “You won’t deploy that rapier wit of yours for a parry?” He glanced back to Syd’s locked door, ran one thin finger along the frame. “Or do you prefer the thrust to the parry?”
Liam glowered. Why did he alone among the Reconciliation have to suffer Cousin’s sense of humor?
“As you wish.” Cousin shrugged. He hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “Shall we be on our way?”
“I can’t leave my post.” Liam turned