Read The Star Whorl (The Totality Cycles Book 1) for Free Online

old
entertainments hold no savor, and there aren’t any new ones being made,
anymore. We could make our own, but why bother? This is all that there really
is, Krece. What alternative do we have to the Bustani ?”
         Is this all that there
is, though? Kreceno’Tiv wondered, hearing and feeling the familiar despair
in his friend’s words. Was Ro-Becilo’Ran so far sunk into that despair that he
would rather waste marks and marks standing in an endless line than face the
prospect of having nothing unique to do?
         Am I? he asked
himself, even as he held in a wince at a too-familiar chemi-scent, one that he
never wanted to experience again. He unconsciously moved, distancing himself
from the sphere of its influence. Ro-Becilo’Ran gave him a half-amused,
half-sympathetic look as he resumed his place beside his pre-mate. He raised a
hand in presumed farewell.
         Irritated beyond
rationality, Kreceno’Tiv flicked a vuu’erio tennae at him and turned to move
from the line. But he was brought up short by Gotra Pelani’Dun, who had placed
herself right into his path.
         “Oh ha,” she said brightly,
as if surprised to see him, as if she had not been subtly pursuing him all the
time he had been there. “I didn’t expect to see you here!”
         “I was just leaving,” he
said brusquely, angling his body to move past her. He felt the response to her
Gotra-pheromones, and hated the feeling. He purposely resisted it, fending off
the glyph of it from entangling with his. He was quick enough that there was no
outward change to his physique.
         “So soon? The dark-time has
just started!” she protested, moving subtly to intercept him. The glome of her
chemi-scent strengthened. “Why come all the way here, just to leave almost
immediately?”
         “I was wondering the same
thing myself,” he near-growled, casting a dark look over his shoulder at Ro-Becilo’Ran,
who was studiously ignoring the conversation.
         “So stay,” she said
cajolingly. “We should talk, you and I.” Her large eyes became beseeching in
the way that he used to find so enticing, but just made him feel irritated now.
         He sneered. “Nothing to talk
about.” He turned and worked his way around to the edge of the boulevard, where
he could glyph-conjure his transport. She did not follow, as near as he could
sense, though he did not turn to look. The ride home was long, even for the
single transport, and he vowed not to be talked into going back to the line.
         I won’t believe that
there is absolutely nothing else worth doing, he thought, leaning back and
closing his eyes. But the despair, ever-present, whispered otherwise.
     
    Whorl Eleven
     
         Kreceno’Tiv got off the
Secondus transport after Ro-Becilo’Ran. But this time he paid attention to how
the artifact-glyph of it changed as he disembarked, denoting his interaction
with it coming to an end, as his Long-Travel Proctor had made a parallel
between the two. Capturing the change on his view-glyphographic to study later,
he waved to his friend, went inside and immediately started on his assignments,
including the comparison between the transport glyph and the incomplete
Long-Travel glyph.
         After a late meal with his
parents, he went back to his data-trolling once he had finished his assignments
and had gone through his exercise regimen.
         The assignments took longer
than usual , because of that report, he thought. I’ll have to go
to sleep soon and I want to finish checking my forums before that. As he
sifted, he noted something – not quite right in the Spheres. Parts of the data
interlinks had gone – dark. Not many, and not very large, but there were
definite absences, unexplained and unremarked. The Crier was gone, as was the
Happy Hedonist. As were others, others who were not as verbose or profound, but
just as prolific.
         And almost all in the
lower ability strata , he thought,