Armor

EPILOGUE

We have never found the Coyote, of course.

Sure, it took us a long time before another ship came and we could even begin the search. And space is big and the ship was out of fuel anyway, so it doesn’t make much difference.

But still we looked.

So do the people from Golden. Yes, they showed. About a month later. Reluctantly, we told them the story from the beginning when we found the suit until the end when we lost it. And we said we understood how reluctant they must be to want to spend much time searching for the remains of the dead and fuel-less hulk. That we would be staying and if anyone ever reported anything we would be sure to let them know.

They looked at us like we were crazy.

“The Archon was not seen to die, is that not correct?” the representative asked Holly.

Holly said that, yes, that’s true, but… There was no fuel. Not to mention the terrible damage the ship undoubtedly underwent. “I mean,” Holly blustered on, red-faced, “There was a battle we didn’t even see.”

The Rep eyed him coolly. “But the Archon was not seen to die?” he asked again.

Holly looked at me and shrugged. “Well, no,” he replied.

The rep nodded. “So. We shall continue the search.”

And they have. They stop by here now and again.

A couple of other things:

We’re not a part of Fleet any longer. In no way. They’re mad about it. Fuck ’em.

We traced the rumor about “Lewis’s” rich-kid past to—surprise—Lewis himself.

We have a growing colony. A government. Holly and I are on what they call the Council of Elders. But they don’t call us much.

Lya is pregnant with her second. Her first is a girl with her looks and Holly’s brain.

Karen is not pregnant and won’t be. Yes, we’re still together. But we are not, repeat: not, happy. But I guess we’ll keep at it anyhow.

I never saw Eyes again.

The Antwar continues.

What about me? Besides the fact that I’m getting fat and thoughtful? Not much else. Both traits are, understandably, fulfilling.

What I eat is everything. What I think about…

The past, of course. My life and what it’s meant and what it will mean from now on. And Felix. I think about Felix a lot.

And about the Masao and what he said, about there being no protection from what you are and all. And I think I may have something to add:

There is no protection from what you want.

Hell, they keep searching, which is dumb enough. But when I think about the certain look in that Rep’s eye, in all their eyes when they drop by to question again and again. And when I think about all of it—from Golden, to Banshee, to Sanction…

When I think about it, I wonder.

Dammit, I cannot help but wonder:

Are you there, Felix?

Are you there?