No one gets to ask us for anything more. Not now, not ever. When history looks our way—stupid, blind history, that judges everything and never gives a shit what we paid to get it—it better remember that no one had a right to ask us for this. No one.
—From Hail to the King, the blog of Shaun Mason, June 19th, 2040.
I wanted to tell the truth. I wanted to be the grand crusader who walked into the darkness and hauled
the answers, kicking and screaming, into the light. I wanted to be a savior.
All I succeeded in becoming was a fool.
I have paid enough; I have paid too much; I’m done And I’m sorry.
—From Images May Disturb You, the blog of
Georgia Mason, June 19th, 2040.
George walked out of the hall with her
shoulders stiff and her face so composed that I knew inside she had to be screaming. The skin around
her sunglasses was tight, a sure sign that she was transferring all the tension to her eyes, where no one would be able to see it.
Rick spoke first: “Georgia, what just
If she lashed out, I wanted to be the one who
drew her fire. I stepped minutely forward, adding my own patently idiotic, “George? You okay?”
