Free The Breath of Suspension by Alexander Jablokov Page B

apartment on Beacon Hill. I had the world, such as we knew it in those days, at my feet.
    It was with trepidation that I entered the old building, leaving my escort in the street, and was led up to Aya Ngomo.
    The room was completely dark. I stumbled in, almost tripping over power conduits. “Aya! Are you in here?”
    A tiny light came on, illuminating her face. She shouldn’t have been on Earth at all. She seemed barely human, tied intimately with her devices. Her eyes were still the same though, bright and intelligent.
    “Ah, Vikram. Come to say goodbye?” I should have guessed then, I suppose.
    “Just to see you.”
    “Thank you.” She looked at me. “You’ve made a success of yourself. You’ve come quite a ways from St. Theda’s.”
    I laughed. “That’s true enough. Yes, I do well.”
    “Is it what you wanted?”
    “Do you want me to tell you that I have found wealth and earthly power worthless? Not at all.” I spoke resonantly. “It’s just what I wanted.”
    She reached out her hand and took mine. “I tried to tell you when we were in the Asteroid Belt. I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you, Vikram.”
    “What you’ve done? I don’t understand.”
    “For the greater good. That’s the phrase, isn’t it? I sacrificed you for the greater good. My greater good. I won’t change it, understand, not for anything, but I want you to know that I don’t hold sacrifice to be meaningless.”
    “Aya, you’re not making any sense at all.” I was getting irritated.
    “You could have been something important to me. Because you refused, I allowed, no I encouraged, you to become something quite else. Because I needed that. I needed it. And it’s not what you should be.”
    I was a ruler known for my equable disposition. I took a breath and smiled at her. “No need to apologize. No need at all.”
    She closed her eyes and the room grew dark again. “I hope you will understand later. And forgive me.”
    A few months later we all gathered in orbit, kings above the Earth. Our power and glory was incredible. The Patriarch of Moscow himself blessed Aya’s voyage. It was the culmination of all of our efforts.
    And on 13 April 2146 Aya Ngomo said, “I’m sorry, but I have to go home,” and blasted off for the Galactic North at an acceleration of three gravities. There was no way anyone could stop her. She is going that way yet. I can see her up there.
    Half a year later, our careers in shambles, I met Tergenius, no longer Dispenser or Master, but simple Donald Tergenius, at his country home in the Berkshires of Massachusetts. He had been forcibly rusticated. He would not live more than another year there, unable to survive without the breath of power.
    “The woman was clever,” he said, admiration in his voice. “From day one she was clever.” He gave me a sideward glance and, with shaking hand, topped off my glass of bourbon. I favored that drink, since I could taste Laurena, and victory, in it. “She knew she could turn my eye on you.”
    “Aya? How?” I was a trifle queasy. We’d been sitting in Ter-genius’s stone-flagged living room all afternoon, and he had not offered me so much as a single cracker.
    He pulled at his moustache, a gesture he was to keep to the end. “Don’t you remember? I met you both the same day. Back when I ran Patriarch Simon’s secretariat. Aya recognized that I wanted to get out, make my career.” He belched. The man had lost a lot of dignity over the years. “She pointed out your family connections. After your expulsion from St. Theda’s I called on your Uncle Cosmas. A most useful man.”
    I hadn’t thought about him in years. “He was my favorite.”
    “You were his as well. He pulled some strings. I got my position in Utah. And I got you as my assistant.” He looked dolefully at me. “I’ve never regretted it. Even with everything, I still don’t.” I didn’t want him to get maudlin. “Why Utah?” I asked, more or less at random.
    “That’s the