I’ve been watching the feed from the drones I’ve strung across the mouth of the canyon, having set their frequencies so my internal Mods can pick up the signals directly so I don’t have to stay inside the ship staring at monitors. I’ve even gotten used to getting video and graphics piped directly into my eyeballs—it’s just a matter of selective attention. I can’t stay inside the ship. Peter may be immortal, but I know I’m living on a clock. He’s tried to slow the physical conversion, but my skin is definitely changing color, my hair is getting darker and straighter, my face is less and less mine. I think it happens when we sleep—and we still have to sleep, despite all the other super-human wonders of Modded immortality. Peter may not be able to maintain control of his Seed’s default programming when he’s not conscious. (I also notice that when we sleep our dreams are less my dreams—the dreams I’m used to dreaming—and more his: abstract scrambled memories of Earth, of his life.) I know I need to stay close to Eureka, but my impatience keeps taking me east, out of the South Blade, like the wandering I can manage in a day’s light will take me to wherever Asmodeus is.
What do You think about The God Mars Book Five: Onryo?
