Harry Cavendish Read Online Free

oil, and sloshed around Proton’s glass viscously.
    ‘A sort of flamboyant bouquet infused with rose petals and chilly oakenness, redolent of gloomy lochs.
    Really rather delicate, unexpectedly, given its chilly provenance. Gives a sort of fructosal tickle on the tongue. You wouldn’t imagine a blend capable of such subtlety. Taste like that’s lost on a lot of people, Cormack. The non-connoisseurs. I should think most of them round here fall into that category,’ he said sadly, looking about the flight deck.
    Then he looked back at Cormack and a friendly smile formed around his slightly opened mouth.
    ‘You look like a chap that knows his whisky though,’ he said.
    ‘I do?’ said Cormack. He was flattered by the suggestion.
    ‘Yes. Read a lot too I expect?’
    ‘Yes, I do,’ said Cormack.
    ‘Went to university?’
    ‘Not yet, but I want to,’ he said, and there was a silence, which Cormack took to mean that Proton wanted him to volunteer more information so he added, ‘Probably York,’ quietly because he was ashamed.
    ‘That’s a good one, I suppose,’ continued Proton unfazed. ‘Liked to have gone to university myself - any university - but didn’t get the chance. Never really had the opportunities that a chap like you would have had. I come from a small mining town in the low valleys outside Manima in the Guerdan Province. My mother’s family - proud but poor. But it’s not stopped me, Cormack. I’m a natural auto-didact.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘A quick study with a love of the ancients. I could quote you whole passages of the Ancient Texts. I could regale you with many an antique tale of bucolic sharecroppers. Stuff I’ve found in those books, I don’t think many scholars would have come across. My background might not be the most privileged but it’s not stopped me from getting ahead.’
    Proton leaned back some more in his chair.
    ‘See, the Guard is just a means to an end, Cormack. Don’t let the rubberization and the laser guns and the executions and everything lead you astray. It’s not really me at all. I tend to live for the weekends.
    The kind of people you have to rub up against in the Guard, you have to put on a bit of a show. A chap like you would understand. Wouldn’t you?’
     
    ‘I suppose, Captain. Should I call you Captain?’
    ‘No, no, no. Proton’s the name. Call me Proton. I’d like you to hang around a bit up front. We can talk some more. Don’t get much chance to talk up here.’
    Proton mouthed the word, ‘Riff-raff.’
    Cormack looked about him at the crew on the flight desk - four men and three women wearing tidy bodysuits, efficiently drumming at consoles, reviewing hieroglyphics flying across computer screens, twiddling knobs. He sensed they were listening surreptitiously and busying themselves unnecessarily.
    ‘Keep the cow in the hold though,’ continued Proton. ‘She’ll be better off back there. We’ll take good care of her for you. Into politics, Cormack? Article I was reading on the uniSwarm last night on proportional representation. Couldn’t really get the gist of it but maybe you have an opinion? After you get some rest perhaps. Anyway, don’t let me prattle on like this too long. Heard you had a bit of an adventure…’ Proton raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes excitedly. ‘Met the Big Chap - that’s what it said on the communiqué.’
    He sipped a little more from his glass.
    ‘Course it wasn’t really Him, was it? It was His avatar, him being in the sixth fold and you in the seventh, but I suppose it amounts to the same thing. Did He seem friendly though? You know, we all have this impression of the Supreme Being, the Creator of the Universe, as being a bit intimidating but I bet He’s not when you get to know Him, is He?’
    Proton leaned towards Cormack.
    ‘I heard He touched you,’ he said. ‘Can I see?’
    ‘What do you want to see?’
    ‘Your burnt nipple.’
    ‘My what?’
    ‘Consider it a Zargonic affectation. See,