The Burning Skies

You suffered head trauma in that fucking slugfest, and before that you’d been cowering on the bottom of the Moon for a fucking decade trying desperately to think of anything but her.”

“I’m not going crazy!”

“Who said anything about crazy? You’ve just been under a lot of stress.”

“Shit, man—”

“What did your armor’s cam-feeds show?”

Sarmax hesitates.

“Have you even looked?” asks the Operative.

“They were junked. They showed fuck-all.”

“Can I make a suggestion?” says Lynx.

“What the hell are you doing on this line?” asks Sarmax.

“That’d be hacking it.”

• • •

So you’re still tripping,” says Spencer. “So what?”

“Would have thought you’d be a little more concerned.”

Spencer gestures at the view in the window. “It’s all relative,” he says.

“But after the Jaguars dosed us, InfoCom erased my systems and rebooted me. The Manilishi probably did the same.”

“So?”

“So how come I’m still tripping?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to answer that?”

“And why aren’t you still flying too?”

“Maybe the Jaguars gave you a heavier dose.”

“Fuck, Spencer, I saw the way your eyes looked back in that goddamn temple. The Jags were trying to interrogate us both, weren’t they? No reason they would have given you the lightweight version.”

“There’s every reason. You’re twice my size, Linehan. Maybe they were trying to account for it and fucked up. Maybe you’re just highly receptive. What’s your normal dosage on combat drugs?”

“I don’t take combat drugs.”

“You’re kidding me. I thought all mechs did.”

“My officers always said I was a natural born psycho.”

“No arguments there. Look, I take a lot of shit to let me run zone. Razors are used to altered states, that’s all we’re ever in. No wonder you’ve been having such a hard time.”

“It’s getting harder by the moment.”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell InfoCom the ayahuasca was proving so persistent?”

“I figured your team wouldn’t be that happy.”

“We could have given you an antidote.”

“Assuming you let me live, sure.”

“One rogue factor gets past the conditioning, maybe there are others?”

“Exactly.”

“Not of the sort that would matter,” says Spencer. “The InfoCom reconditioning wasn’t aimed at any recreational drugs you might have taken—”

“Recreational?”

“Whatever. Point is it was aimed at your loyalties.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

“Because you no longer feel like fighting for the Throne?”

“Fuck, man, as long as I was fighting, I was loving it.”

“So what’s your problem?”

“There’s no combat.”

“And?”

“And the suspense is getting to me.”

“You never struck me as the type to get scared.”

“Precisely why I’m getting so freaked out.”

They’ve emerged from the riverbed, forged on into fields purged of all harvest. Dead valley stretches all around, with two more like it stretching far overhead … all three converging on the shattered city that dominates the northern end of this cylinder. Call that city capital of memory, because that’s all it holds now. And the men now approaching it have the same problem.

“I’m going to rip your head off,” says Sarmax.

“Not so fast,” says the Operative.

“He’s right,” says Lynx.

Of course he is. Combat inside the Remoraz would be insane. Sarmax would have to blow one of the vehicle’s hatches to even turn around to face Lynx. But Sarmax seems so angry right now the Operative’s not taking any chances.

“Anyone starts anything, I’ll take ’em out myself,” he says. “Lynx, you’ve got some explaining to do.”

“I’ve got some explaining to do?”

“So start talking,” growls Sarmax.

“What’s there to explain? Guess Carson’s not as good a razor as he thinks he is. I hacked his ass, and got my cock right up in it.”

“Or Carson let you do it,” says Sarmax.

“Why the hell would I do that?” asks the Operative.

“Maybe some misguided attempt to get us all on the same page.”

“Man,” says Lynx, “you do not want to tell him any secrets. Look, Leo, sorry to hear that you’re having problems with your woman, but—”

“Watch it.”

“I am. I’m watching you lose it and I think you might be missing the point. You’re too wrapped up in it, man. You need to think about this from the only perspective that matters.”

“Which is?” asks Sarmax.

“Autumn Rain’s,” says the Operative.

Keep talking,” says Spencer. “About what?” asks Linehan.

“About what the hell is going on inside your head.”

“You are.”

“No kidding?”

“I can see straight through you and you’re hollow.”

“That’s what I called you once.”

“What?”

“That’s what I called you once,” repeats Spencer. “The original hollow man.”

“Maybe you were right.”

“I’m your handler, Linehan. I’m supposed to be right.”

“So tell me what the fuck you think is going on.”

“I think the basic core of your personality is probably disintegrating. Essentially what you are is just