Mourning Dove by R.R. Campbell

Author:R.R. Campbell [campbell, r.r.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: NineStar Press, LGBT, sci-fi; bio-tech; science fiction; action/suspense; political/legal thriller
Publisher: NineStar Press
Published: 2019-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Five

PETER

It was as if she was in the room—not beside, but rather surrounding him. Her spirit buzzed in the electrical currents in the walls; it flickered and shifted in the pixels of his amphitheater’s screen.

And now it was time to distill her into something with which he could interact, something through which he and Heather could begin setting things to rights.

Peter swept his hand over the digipanel before him, rearranging the windows on the display above it. “Transfer all data to sub-location X-5693, please.”

An automated voice responded through his home’s sound system. “Transferring.”

“When complete, run distillation and condensation cycles through Evamore.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Indicate completion time.”

“Transfer time remaining: three minutes, forty-eight seconds.”

Peter remained still. “Indicate completion time including distillation and condensation.”

“Total transfer time: ten minutes, thirteen seconds.”

The tendons of his fingers groaned as he curled his fingers into fists. Peter shook them out. He’d put them through too much of that lately, it seemed, what with every test of Evamore so far having left him with nothing more than raw, undecipherable code from his mother’s EMPATHY install.

It shouldn’t have taken him this long to reach a point where he could distill, where he could condense the raw data into something resembling his late mother’s consciousness. It shouldn’t have taken so many tweaks, so many trials to reach this point, which, in all likelihood, would bear as little fruit as every previous attempt.

These, he supposed, were some of the many consequences of having lost Gary.

No, of Gary having gone astray.

Peter retreated from his living room workstation and fixed a digipen between his teeth. After a few steps, he removed it. Too much like his father. He paused halfway to the kitchen, staring at the digipen between his forefinger and thumb. Was the universe calling to him the same way it had called to his father? Was he meant to return the pen to the space between his teeth?

No. A foolish thought. Wyatt Halman wasn’t a summation of simple gestures. Wyatt Halman had been more than that, an ethic, a dream, an ever-burning flame warming those near him, leading the way through a technological abyss. Wyatt Halman had been a man. He had been Peter’s father.

And they had killed him.

Peter stepped toward the kitchen as he shook the thought, Heather’s words fresh in his mind. Even if the NAU hadn’t killed him—and they most certainly had—she was right in that it made little practical difference now. Besides, his assailants made sure there would be no proving his murder. Peter’s months of attempting to do so had been wasted, time that could have been spent on Project Evamore, on helping Heather steer Human/Etech back to sea.

In the kitchen now, a sudden awareness of hunger pangs struck him. He swung open his refrigerator door before fumbling through it. Turkey? Expired. Lettuce? Wilted. Orange juice? Not food, but worth a swig.

He tipped back the carton and gulped down the citrusy beverage, the pulp hitting him all at once. Should have shaken it. He lowered the carton and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he eyed his pocketab.

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