The Last Immortal : Book One of Seeds of a Fallen Empire

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  Alessia said nothing about his leaving until late one evening.

  He heard a knock on his door, almost a rhythm, even as the computerized monitor announced the name and ship rank of his visitor. He found it interesting that it always called her “Assistant Bio-specialist, Alessia Enassa”, when she had told him her name was something like Zadúmchov.

  “I’ve brought your uniform back to you.” She said seriously, as she laid his uniform on his bedside table. “You’ll need it if you’re going to return tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” He echoed, bemused, his cheerful mood vanishing. Staring at the familiar flightsuit, he had the disconcerting feeling that the man who had once belonged to it was no longer the same man. His past life on Tiasenne suddenly seemed like someone else’s.

  For a moment, Eiron struggled to accept his departure and what it meant; his heart was sinking for no apparent reason.

  “All right, tomorrow,” he repeated stonily.

  It was a shock to realize that he didn’t want to leave. Somewhere down the line he had convinced himself that he wouldn’t, that they, that Alessia, would keep him here.

  As he watched her, he felt a strange pang of emotion, what he thought was apprehension. Its intensity surprised him, and he realized that it was not fear about going back, he was afraid of losing what he had found.

  As if that could ever be his.

  He refused to allow the thought to form. He would not cross that line, even while his mind was tortured by the confusion. He managed to keep his emotion from his face, as Alessia watched him, waiting.

  She was beautiful, he thought so anyway. Not just strong but as strong-willed and independent as he was.

  His own senses had tried to keep him from thinking much about Alessia in any other light than as his rescuer. And if he did occasionally forget, he suppressed the thought. So why was he so disappointed that she wanted him to leave? That she didn’t seem very upset to see him go? What was this emotion he felt when he looked at her? After all, he had never before been able to center his thoughts on only one woman. He was not an emotional man in general. And why was it that he was suddenly no longer jealous of her unnatural powers?

  “Is something wrong?” He thought to ask. “You haven’t given me a whole lot of notice.”

  She didn’t answer him but regarded him impassively. He did not perceive her distress because she spoke calmly.

  “Yes, there is something.” She said. “I’ll need that favor that I told you I would ask for, if you’re willing to do it for me.”

  “Hey, I don’t forget my debts. You’re asking for it now?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, can you at least tell me what this is all about?” He asked.

  “I think it’s time to shake things up.” She said.

  Fere libenter homines id quod volunt credunt. Men in general believe what they wish.

  —Caesar

  Chapter Sixteen