LEGACY LOST Read Online Free Page B

high wind, but the weather tonight seems . . . strangely . . . peaceful.” Vector sighed, almost losing track of his trajectory, and then jolted, returning. “Still, be on the lookout for pirates, all right? Very important. Other than dehydration, pirates are my – our – biggest concern. If an unfamiliar ship seems to follow or attempts to dock with us, you ring that bell and wake every ass on board.” He gestured to a single, dangling brass bell erected in the forecastle. “Our barrel is full right now, so you don’t need to worry about finding a cloud. Just remember to keep her at an even twenty-five miles per hour. Okay?” He indicated the fluctuating gauge of her speedometer.
    “See?” Legacy said, however dull, taking the wheel from his reluctant hands. She smiled lifelessly. “Everything will be fine.”
    Vector glared quizzically, suddenly doubting his judgment in relinquishing the wheel. “Leg–”
    “Everything will be fine,” she repeated firmly. “Go get some rest.”
    She was privately relieved when Vector finally acquiesced and disappeared into the ship’s crowded berth. Now it was only her versus her thoughts, and that Taliko Castle in the distance, ensuring the battle was a weighted one.
    A month ago, she could’ve said that the castle was a symbol of oppression, the emblem of the monarchy, some doomed ideology clinging to its scepter with rubied claw. But now . . . that castle was the place where Kaizen Taliko had ripped her chains in half so that her hands could be free to roam his body.
                  A month ago, Exa Legacy could’ve said that she was only in love with Dax Ghrenadel, and she always would be.
                  Dax. Huh. Amid this maelstrom of new horror, the romantic wounds which riddled Legacy had almost gone totally numb.
    The twenty-three-year-old statistician had bright blue eyes which often sparkled with either wit or annoyance, a long, slender bone structure, and shaggy chestnut hair. He also always wore a rebreather strapped over his nose and mouth, a leather mask outfitted with a large oxygen gauge and a small metallic coil of potassium hydroxide. Parts from the damn thing needed constant refilling and/or replacing, which Legacy’s engineer father had been more than happy to cheaply provide – in life.
    A month ago, Legacy could’ve said that if she couldn’t be with Dax, she didn’t want to be with anyone. Due to his chronic lung disorder, he was “ineligible” for Companion Selection, which was the core of the Companion Law. You submitted your gene sequence and personality profile to the difference engines, and they paired you with the optimal complementary matrix. In Legacy’s case, this had meant Liam Wilco, a stout, stern descendant of Ireland whom she hadn’t even known at the time of their pairing. It was Legacy’s passionate defiance of the Compatible Companion Selection system which had led her to join the CC in the first place. But now . . .
                  Now, Dax Ghrenadel, Legacy’s best friend since she was twelve and the focal point of her burgeoning sexuality from the age of fourteen, was sleeping without her in their cabin downstairs. Although he had been the one to rescue her from certain death, fishing her from where she’d been caught in the gale of storm winds, he hadn’t stayed with her while she’d recuperated, or asked her when she was coming to bed, or even if she needed anything or if she was okay or . . . or anything. It was as if he’d only rescued her out of habit, and not desire. He radiated coldness, and they couldn’t even talk to each other without a jab or two from their memories, and he hardly looked at her anymore.
    “. . . I can only look the other way so many times,” he’d told her at Glitch’s House of Oil, where she’d been temporarily harbored following the manhunt from the Coronal Massacre. He made it obvious that he’d seen her with Kaizen. “Yes, I’ve known. I