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.He did not hold back, pushing forward he combined his mind with the cold intelligence.Power surged around him.The thrust of the engines, the trembling of his hull as weapons fired, the minds of the crew directing, commanding.He had almost infinite ability, knowledge, he could soar through the infinite reaches of the galaxy.He was the ship, cold calculating emotionless, but for the core that was still human.He looked at the puny minds connected to his systems.He ripped them apart, freeing himself.He turned his weapons on the ships threatening the Mylian ship, where his limited human body lay.He struck out with all the power at his disposal.He was faster and more accurate than anything around him.He was not directed by dozens of simple minds, he was just THE SHIP.The ship was dancing a deadly dance, turning the battle in favour of the Mylians.Still enough of Tristan’s essence remained to ensure only Sicceian ships were destroyed.There was suddenly a change, damage.There was no pain, should there be pain? He could not access all of his body, more and more parts become unavailable.The dance became slow and laboured, power draining from him.He manoeuvred himself into the centre of a group of Sicceian ships.He gathered together all the power at his disposal and released it all at once.There was a blinding flash, and his mind shattered into a million pieces.There was a brief sadness for what he had lost, then came the welcoming darkness of oblivion.Chapter Thirteen: Admiral Clayandrian.Vague shapes and lights moved around him, sensations and sound that meant… something? He groaned, then blackness.Lights returned, shapes moved.Someone touched his forehead with cool hands.Tristan’s head felt as if it was being beaten from the inside by a hammer.Voices and faces faded in and out and he had strange dreams.Sometimes they were pleasant ones, other times not.Many of his dreams centred on a beautiful alien with eyes of brilliant blue.He opened his eyes.He was lying in a sunlit room with a large window.There were chairs around his bed and a table to one side.He smelt a faint hint of spicy perfume and it niggled at his memory, but he could not place it.He touched the scar on his forehead.Was this the room they put him in after his transplanted interface had fused? Had they removed the failed interface? He shook his head but it failed to clear.He tried to rise, but the instant he did his vision flashed to intense white, as if his head would explode.He lay back down and sighed.The strange dreams he had been having of beautiful aliens, distant planets, powerful spaceships, were fading.He wondered if Sarah had been to visit him; he lay still and savoured the peace and quiet.Occasionally he heard voices outside his room, but he could not make out what they were saying.He was hovering just on the edge of sleep when the door of his room opened.Turning his head with an effort he tried to see who it was.The half formed smile froze on his lips.His heart jumped, his greeting turned to a faint gurgle in his throat.I’m still dreaming! It was not a nurse or Sarah as he had expected, but one of the aliens he had been dreaming about.She had an air of authority about her and was accompanied by the smell of spice he had been unable to place.She smiled a radiant smile at him when she saw he was awake and said something.He shook his head and said “I don’t understand” in English.She frowned at what he had said, walked over to him, and laid a cool hand on his forehead.Tristan lay rigid at her touch, watching.She was strangely beautiful but very alien; her skin had a slight green tint to it with darker patches running from her neck up either side of her face like large freckles.On her head, where her hair should, be were low ridges running from her forehead to the nape of her neck.The only hair he could see were long eyelashes over red albino like eyes.She said something else, but Tristan did not understand.With a shake of his head he asked where he was.The alien’s frown deepened; she ran her hand gently down the side of Tristan’s face and turned towards the door.A few moments later, she returned with another alien.This one looked male and had a higher central ridge on his head.He was dressed like a doctor wearing scrubs.He walked over to Tristan and said something.Tristan took a gulp of air, filling his lungs, feeling a scream building from the pit of his stomach he shook his head, his pulse racing, blood pounding in his ears.The scream came out as a faint croak.He could not breathe, he fought for breath trying to rise.Firm hands held him down.There was a stabbing pain in his arm the room wavered and vanished along with the strange aliens.When he woke the memory of the aliens was vivid.That was the most realistic dream I have ever had.He opened his eyes slowly.The ‘doctor’ was standing over him with a slight smile playing on his lips.It was no dream! He was living in a nightmare or some alternative reality.His heart started to flutter in his chest.He balled his hands into fists in an effort to control the returning panic.He took a deep breath forcing himself to relax.Wherever I am I will just go with it [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]