Free The God Mars Book Three: The Devil You Are by Michael Rizzo Page A

of us in that
time, including the original him that started this. That’s the
unbeatable paradox: As soon as the timeline changed, none of us—the
way we were—would exist anymore in that future, so none of us
should still exist to be here now (including Chang), since we came
from versions of ourselves that are now undone. So—by
extension—killing Chang early wouldn’t erase the one that’s already
here doing damage. However the paradox got broken, it’s done.
    So what the hell are we doing here? The best we can
do is limit the damage. We can’t undo what he’s done. (Unless
Chang’s still got the time-splice tech, and we can take it from him
and jump further back, ahead of his arrival, then kill young Chang,
and… owww …)
    Every way I run it, I collide with the broken
paradox. And make my headache worse.
    The only thing I can do that makes any sense is track
the fucker down and hurt him. End him. And that makes sense because
that’s exactly what I’m good at, what Star is good at.
    Pointless justice.
     
    A pair of the new light AAVs fly over my head,
heading east, possibly for a look at Tranquility, possibly looking
for Chang. They ignore me—a quick hack of their Link feed confirms
they didn’t even see me, despite how low they’re flying. (And I get
a flash of wishing they did, just so my rage can prove that Burns
can’t hurt me, can’t stop me if I ever decide to collect for
Lisa.)
    I really don’t know what to do. But I apparently know
where Chang will be, thanks to Star. (Assuming I trust her.
Assuming that is Star. It could be a convincing fake. So
could Chang. Maybe some unknown is doing this to play me, to play
everybody.)
    (But I need to play to find out.)
    Tranquility is still a good two day’s walk from here.
Last time we tried visiting, we lost two men, got two more hurt
bad. All we did was show up, try to tell the locals we came in
peace, wanted to help them. Now Burns is going to do the same
thing, just with a lot more guns. But no matter how many guns he
brings, he won’t be able to take the place without major bloodshed,
and the locals certainly won’t go quietly just because a supposedly
superior force says so. At least I could walk in without
much fear of getting hurt, and, if I’m lucky, not hurt anybody
else. But what good would it do? How are they going to receive a
freak like me? (Maybe better than a freak like Chang. But at least
Chang has something to offer. What am I selling?)
    What would Lisa want me to do?
    No. That falls apart as soon as I remember the look
of absolute horror on her face at the sight of me. I realize: she
must have woken up, rolled over, saw this long-haired child that
barely looks like the young me she fell for, and managed not to
scream while she snuck out of my quarters and called for the
cavalry.
    Lisa would have wanted me not to be what I am.
    The backlash of anger I get at that thought—angry at
Lisa for being so terrified of me—just shows I’m lashing out about
her death (even at her for dying, or for calling in the
troopers—Burns—that led to her dying). But I also consider the
words I’m beginning to use, even to myself:
    What I am.
    This is what I am . And not just what I am now.
This is what I’ve been , at least in that other time. And in
that other time, this is what I chose to be.
    I remember the me from this timeline, not long
ago, in an idle conversation with Paul, hypothetically coveting the
gifts that the ETE have: Immortality, healing, resilience,
strength, speed, interface. And tools that can manipulate the
binding forces of matter. Godlike power. The Nomads call them Jinn.
And what could I do with such power, hypothetically, if the ETE
would ever give it? Would I dare take it? Would I do good with it?
Save the world? Or make it worse?
    Now I’ve got more than the ETE, and without asking.
Unfortunately, I’ve also got memories that say I didn’t do
good with it, didn’t save the world. I abused it and wasted it