Hard Magic

1932

Sullivan pulled his hand away as dozens of memories flooded into his mind all at once. He remembered frustration riding in pursuit of Pancho Villa, confusion at the aftermath of Wounded Knee, the bitter soul-crushing sadness of losing his wife and three young daughters in a terrible fire, everything, the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat, and finally three years of unbearable suffering, but those were blurry, and had probably come over by accident. Others had been very specifically stamped into him, as harsh as the light of day. "What are you?"

Pershing appeared even weaker than before, if that were possible. "I'm a very weak Reader. I barely qualify as an Active, but I've been saving up a lot of Power… I thought it would only be fair to try and answer your questions while I answered my own… Thank you. I finally got to see the Power… It all makes sense now."

"You read my mind?" Sullivan asked.

"Yes…" he closed his eyes. "I was right about you. And now I must rest…"

"Why'd you show me all those things?"

Pershing's breathing had grown shallow and erratic. "Because… someone must know the truth… Only a handful of us knew… about the Geo-Tel… I need you to destroy the final piece… Don't let him get it… Because we have a… traitor in our midst… I can't even trust people who are like my… children… Whoever it is… they're too strong for me to Read… Because…"

Pershing moved slowly, pushing something toward Sullivan. He took it, and found that it was one of the Grimnoir rings.

Because you are the man for the job. Carry on.

Pershing sent that last thought with his Power, then let out his final breath.

"General?"

His chest had quit moving. It was as if he'd found someone to pass the torch to, and had finally moved on. Sullivan sat there for a moment, stunned. Jane arrived a moment later, studied General Pershing's still form and began to cry.