Redemption Protocol (Contact) Read Online Free Page B

nodded.
    The Professor glanced at him.
    “You don't have anybody?”
    “Not any more.”
    “Everybody has somebody, surely?”
    “I wanted to kill someone.”
    “Oh.” The Professor paused, trying to come to terms with such a bizarre concept. “You can't live your life that way, can you?”
    “Your life had love, Professor. Not everybody has that.”
    “You hate this person?”
    Havoc laughed. It was agony.
    “Was it worth it?” the Professor said.
    “It's all I had left.”
    “Who was this person?”
    Havoc paused. What did it matter now?
    “Forge, Claudius Forge.”
    “The General?”
    “That's right. General Claudius Forge.”
    “Didn't he...?”
    Havoc nodded.
    “Four years ago, after his coup failed.”
    “But you don't believe he really died?”
    “Not a chance.”
    “So what would you do? If he was dead?”
    “I’d die a contented man.”
    “Ah.”
    They continued to lie together. Birds flew overhead and strutted up and down the shore. A solid block of sunlight advanced most of the way toward them. It neared their feet, promising warmth.
    Havoc coughed something up. Lung? He felt like he was being tortured. His mental resources were depleting. One shot left. Not yet. Soon though.
    The Professor turned to him. Havoc could see the pain creeping back in to him. He could see it in his eyes.
    “It hurts, John. The pain. It's bad. I'm sorry.”
    They looked at each other.
    The Professor's voice sounded strained as he tried to keep it level.
    “Do you have any more? I mean, spare?”
    Fuck you, Havoc thought, fuck you. He was only human, after all. So much pain, one shot, two addicts. The difference between a good death and a terrible one. But the response of his value system, beneath his surface reaction, was axiomatic. You don't make a dying man beg for drugs. He reached abruptly for the Professor's hand.
    “Here you go, Professor.”
    “Thank you, John. Thank you.”
    Two ducks floated past, quacking at each other comically. The Professor groaned. The poison induced pain was terrible at the end. Without the hytelline the Professor would have screamed himself hoarse.
    The shot took effect and blurred things even more for him. It would be pretty dark in there now.
    “I'm scared, John.”
    “It's ok.”
    “I never thought...”
    “I know.”
    He reached and took the Professors hand in his own. He squeezed to communicate his presence and the Professor squeezed weakly back. The Professor's skin was dark now, his face and hands a purplish black as his prisoner implant killed him. The damn pickup was late, probably wasn't coming. They were dying. And that bastard was still alive, Havoc was sure of it.
    The sun reached them across the water. They were bathed in morning light, soaking in the warmth as they slumped on their rock together. The lake glowed as the water lapped gently against them. The light breeze was fresh and pure.
    The Professors eyes opened suddenly.
    “John Havoc? The John Havoc? From Jemlevi?”
    “Yes.”
    “Gosh.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Did you really...”
    The Professor stopped as he realized what he was about to ask.
    “Kill all those people, Professor?”
    “Well. Yes.”
    Havoc ignored the question. It was meaningless to him now, eleven years later. He knew the futility of explanation. People are judges, it's hard wired. And some questions don't have a yes or no answer.
    The Professor’s voice was gentle.
    “I will believe you, John.”
    The Professor sounded as though he’d decided the answer – he knew that Havoc was a good man and simply awaited the confirmation.
    Havoc twisted his head and stared at the Professor with his single eye.
    “Yes, Professor, I did.”
    It felt good to come out and say it, unqualified, without trying to explain. The Professor took some time to process this unexpected response. Or maybe he just didn't have an answer.
    “This General was involved?”
    Havoc grunted assent as the Professor relaxed back, drained. Havoc tried to clear his