Billy looked down and licked his lips. He frowned. “I don’t understand—”
“Clearly,” I replied. “Let me make this simple enough so you get it. I am not looking for rejuvenation. I want crush juice. Period.”
He swallowed. “Your cells are too old for crush juice.” His voice was strained.
“In that case, we have no common ground upon which to do business. I suggest you leave. Quickly.”
He rose to his feet, scraping the chair across the floor. He straightened his shoulders. “You will be back,” he told me. “You will come back when you have figured out that mine is the only way. And then, the people I work for will not be as understanding as they would have been now. Think on that.” He turned and moved away.
Juliyana watched him go, then dropped the steak knife on the table with a grimace. “As much as I hate to say it, he may have a point, there at the end.”
I didn’t answer her. I understood both their perspectives and I didn’t like either of them. The idea of selling half my life to gain the other half made me feel sick. Slavery has always offended me, despite the fact that in tens of thousands of years of human history, we have never managed to fully eradicate the disease. It keeps returning—a new name, a new strain, each time with restored virulence and persistence.
What was worse about this modern version was that people sold themselves into their own slavery to gain long life. They seem to feel it was worth the trade.
I did not. I looked at Juliyana. “There is a reason I look the way I do right now,” I pointed out to her. “Our family has a long history of military service, for the same reason.”
Juliyana rubbed her temples, frowning. “I don’t understand,” she said. “You formally resigned. You should have got back pay, hospital bonuses, vacation pay, decoration and honors bonuses, time served… It should have been more than enough for rejuvenation, even if you ate algae pseudo food for a decade.”
I cleared my throat. “Are you done with your steak?”
Juliyana’s eyes narrowed. “You did have the money, then…” She looked up at me as I stood up. “What did you do with it all?”
“I’m tired,” I said, making my voice waver querulously. “I want to lie down.”
Juliyana considered me for a moment, her fingers tapping the handle of the steak knife. Then she got to her feet. “Is there anyone mixed up in this who isn’t holding back a fuck-ton?” She stalked off.
The dreams were bad, right from the beginning. They gripped my head and my heart and squeezed. Noam refused to look at me properly, no matter how much I strained to see his face in the full.
The sensation of something coming, some nameless and formless dread, was more intense, more certain than it had ever been. I felt that if I could peer over my shoulder, I might see it right behind me, its teeth bared.
Only, I couldn’t look. All I could do was hold my breath, while my old, thin heart tried to cope.
The worst of it was that even though he would not look at me, Noam was not just asking me to stay, this time. He was trying to warn me. In the wordless way of dreams, he was trying to make me see the menace behind me.
Also in the way of dreams, I was helpless to turn around.
When I woke, I found I had sweated through my clothes and the sheets beneath me.
It was almost a relief to haul my exhausted body into an upright position. I reached for my pad, under the pillow. I knew I was reaching for distraction but didn’t care.
At least one ship must have come through the gates while I was sleeping, for communications and newsfeeds had been updated. I had dozens of messages. Even for an old woman hiding away in an apartment on her family barge, I always received a ton of mail. Most of it was to do with family administration. As a major shareholder, I was legally entitled to copies of any communications to the Board from the CEO or anyone with family related business.
Most of the mail I read once, then deleted. I was still going through them, when Juliyana stirred and pushed herself up on one elbow.
“It’s the middle of the night,” she pointed out.
“Yep.”
She sat up properly and scrubbed at her hair, then wound it up and tied it into a knot at the back of her head. “Now I’m wide awake, too.” She moved to the edge of the bed and stretched. “Most people use their implants for messages,” she pointed out, looking at my pad.
“Uh-huh.”
She studied me. “Using your implants gives you headaches, too?”
“Something like that.”
I thought I had shunted her aside, for the silence stretched while I opened and discarded two more messages.
“How can you stand it?” Juliyana asked softly.
“Stand what?”
“Having your body break down like it is? Watching it happen. Feeling it.”
I looked up at her. “I should take Billy up on his offer, then?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. There have to be alternatives. There has to be a way. Anything is better than just giving up.”
“I’m not giving up. I’m here with you, aren’t I?”
“Only you’re obsessed with not rejuvenating. It’s like you’re punishing yourself for something…” She grew still. “Really? Is that what you’re doing? Do you think dying will make up for what Noam did?”
“Back off, Ranger. Right now.”
Juliyana stiffened. “Yes sir.” She grabbed her sack. “I’m going for a shower.” Her voice was tight.
I let her go. I might’ve argued, or even tried to apologize, except my attention was suddenly and sharply grabbed by the message I had just opened.
It was from the Carranoak accounting department, sent directly to me, with no copies to anyone else. It was a request for me to approve the dispersal of this year’s dividends for the Board and the major shareholders. All
