"Your technology." She snorts. "Your fathers' technology, you mean."
“Same difference.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “You sound so human at times.”
“I am human.”
“I mean Earthling.” She glances at me and then away. “Gas. Gasoline. That’s what our cars used to need.”
“That couldn’t have been healthy.”
“No, not really.”
“And that couldn’t have been a reusable source.”
“No.”
“I’m glad we came along then to help you.”
“Yes, Novans helped us, but we’re helping in return, aren’t we? Or else Kurians wouldn’t exist.”
My cock stirs, and I wonder what it would be like to settle down, to have a baby, with her. But that's ridiculous. Both of us are far too daring and reckless with our lives to even consider bringing another life into the world. No. Isabella and my romance must be short-lived.
I can’t even think about the future. A few hours from now, days, getting to the scrapyard, that I can think about, but the rest of it? My hopes, my dreams, my aspirations for the future? Those I cannot and will not have because I know my father, and he will ruin my chance at happiness at every turn.
Because I’ve failed him. He wanted a son who was just like him, but he doesn’t realize that I am precisely that. My father likes to give orders, and he likes to be obeyed, but he does bend the rules at times, and I do the same. I bend the rules maybe a bit more than he would care for, but we are one and the same.
Maybe that is why he gets on me so much.
Isabella won't let me even touch her during the ride back, and we go back to taking turns sleeping and driving. We're awake when we eat, but neither of us has much to say. Is she getting bored? Is she sick of me? I want to ask her question after question about her life, her past, her present. Does she have a place near the mountain? Does she have many places because of her being a nomad? Or does that mean she doesn't have a house at all? Does she see herself ever settling down roots anywhere? Why, though? She has so much freedom, and she lives off the land. She lives outside of the social constructs most everyone else subscribes to, something that I appreciate. I often felt separate and apart from the other Kurians and Novans, despite even having my twin around. People did naturally wonder if I would one day become the overlord. AI don't know how long father has been the overlord, but I'm fairly certain that no other overlord has maintained that position for as long as he has.
If someone was going to challenge him, they would’ve done so long before now. Father’s going to be the first overlord to die of natural causes. I’m sure of it. Well, I suppose that maybe once he gets older and weaker, someone might start to think differently, maybe, but Father has too many friends and allies. And attempt on his life wouldn’t even reach him.
Which would suggest that the next overlord should be appointed. If that’s the case, Father will choose… I don’t know. Maybe his commander, but the two aren’t that far apart age-wise. It makes sense for him to choose a Kurian, but Father doesn’t trust me. I know he doesn’t. That’s why I’m here.
It is a punishment. Even if I've managed to elude the authorities here so far, I am punished all the same. The mental anguish I'm feeling, the tug-o-war on my heart and emotions with Isabella… Did Father have any idea how much pain and misery he would cause me when he sent me here?
Finally, we arrive at the scrapyard, and I go to work, examine everything, collecting pieces of equipment, making sure to find and spend time with Isabella as much as I can, but I can tell.
She’s bored.
So when she tells me that a few days later, my heart sinks. “I just need a little time. Just give me a little more time. I’m almost—”
“Time’s up,” she says.
Does she mean that time’s up for my proving myself a daredevil? Or that time’s up on our becoming something more than just friends?
10
Isabella
There’s one thing I hate more than anything, and that’s being bored. Actually, I think I might hate my life. Yes, I do whatever I feel like doing, but I have no drive, no ambition. The one thing I wanted, I failed out, so what’s the point? All of this daredevil crap, yes, it’s thrilling, but I’m going to get older. I’m not going to be able to survive if this is all I do. At some point, I’ll die, maybe even from one of the stunts I’m attempting, and what will I leave behind? Nothing. I want to have a legacy. At least if I had been able to join the military, I would've done something worthwhile with my life.
Just sitting here is making me brood far too much. Strol is busy doing whatever it is that he’s doing, running around here, there, and everywhere, and I have no idea what he’s doing. He’s hiding the stuff he’s fathering where I can’t see it, and I’m leaving him to it. If he wants to surprise me, I’ll let him, but I don’t know how happy I am anymore.
To distract myself from my misery, I look around to see what I can find, and eventually, I find an old radio. It doesn't work, and now I'm the one doing some rooting around and searching. It's actually the third radio I find that has the most parts to it, and I take from the first two. Now, the radio works, but I can't hear anything, so I end up climbing one of the mountainous piles of discarded crap to get a better signal.
Some songs play, some really old stuff, as in before the Grots. Some new music, which is a bit
