Ultimate Nyssa Glass by H. Burke (ebook reader browser txt) 📗

but serviceable set of clothes—trousers, stockings, shirt, vest, even shoes—hanging in a cabinet beside the desk. When she returned to the other room, Ellis was sitting up with the sheet draped around his middle. He had one hand to his head but a faint smile on his face. The robot loomed over him, clasping the now-disconnected tubes.

“I’m already feeling better. The robot got me unplugged.”

Her hand clenched around the envelope.What if whatever it is only makes things worse? What could his father say or do that would make this better?

She laid the garments and the briefcase beside him. “I'll leave you alone so you can dress.” She resisted the sudden, strong urge to lean over and kiss him on the cheek.

Soon Ellis was dressed. He reclined on the table. “I’m sorry to send you about like a gofer. I’d do everything myself, but I’m afraid that’s not an option.”

I can't hide this from him. Drawing a deep breath she held forth the envelope.

His brow furrowed. “What's that?”

“It was in your father's desk. It's … it's addressed to you.”

Ellis's mouth hardened. “Throw it out.”

“You don't even know what it is.”

“It doesn't matter. Whatever he …” His voice grew husky, and he cleared his throat. “This is my chance to get away, to make a clean break. I can't think about him any more. He's gone. It's over.”

“I suppose you're right, but ...” She stopped, hesitating over her choice of words.

“What?” he asked. “Out with it.”

“It's like you said: we're well past the point of ignorance being bliss. Could whatever this is really make things any worse?”

He closed his eyes. “Open it. You're right. Worst possible outcome, it just reinforces what I already know.”

Nyssa tilted the envelope, and a small black disc slipped out. “It's a memory wheel.”

“Put it in the big computer.”

When the disc slipped into the slot, the computer hummed back to life. A sepia toned image of a dark eyed gentleman with sunken cheeks flickered onto the screen. Ellis rolled onto his side for a better look and gave a hiss. His shoulders shook.

“I can turn it off,” Nyssa said.

“No, let it play.”

The image spoke in a wavering voice, with the same underwater quality as Mr. C's videophone, “My dearest boy, if you are listening to this, I ask for your forgiveness, for my endeavors have failed. My desire was to preserve your mind until I could restore your body, creating a new temple, the best parts of man and machine. However, I grow feeble. My mind lacks the clarity of my youth, and the voices in my head have grown so dark.”

Nyssa slipped her fingers around Ellis's and squeezed. He stared at the screen, his face stoic, but his eyes hard.

“For so long, I believed their whispers, that I acted in love, that making you whole and strong again would be worth the damnation of my own soul—If such a thing exits. More and more I pray it does not,” Dalhart's recording continued, his voice husky. “I envy your mother her faith, kept pure until her tragic end. I envy you your conscience, for I have slaughtered mine in the name of your restoration. I even envy those I destroyed in my campaign, for they now have peace.

“The voices who once led now taunt. I see now their traps, and as darkness approaches, I have only the hope that your mind, your precious thoughts, will live on within the workings of the manor's computer … though if you have found this, chances are even that hope is crushed. May you remember me in better days, when you were sound of body and I of mind.”

The image blinked out. Nyssa touched Ellis's spindly arm. “Even in his twisted state, he still loved you.”

“I know.” He glanced back at the computer. “It seems wrong to ask for redemption for such a man, but I do wish him some peace. I'm thankful the judgment is not mine to make. I feel well enough to sit up now. Let's get away from here.”

Nyssa wrapped an arm around him and helped him upright.

“How bad was your accident?” she asked.

“Bad, but I survived. After a few weeks, I got my father to let me into his workshop, and I made this.” He flicked the latch on the briefcase. It flew open. Metal rods and gears extended upward, unfolding and reshaping into something that vaguely resembled a hand cart. It rolled off the table and landed on the floor with a squeak of pistons. Then it adjusted again, changing into a mechanized wheelchair.

“Wow.” Nyssa whistled. “You made this?”

“You pick up a few tricks as the son of an eccentric inventor.” He winked. “Help me into it?”

She slipped an arm around his torso. Leaning against her, he half-fell, half-slid into the chair.

“Like I said, I used to have decent upper-body strength. In between that and the chair, I didn’t need a lot of help getting around. I hope I can get back to that point before too long. In the meantime, thanks for putting up with me.” He sank into the seat. “The chair actually has a leg brace setting that lets me stand and move upright. I don’t think I have the torso strength for that, though. Not now.”

“You’ll get there. Right now you look like you could use a big bowl of chicken soup and some sunlight.” She rested her hand on top of his.

He glanced around the laboratory. “So do you think those two were really working for Rivera or was that just a story they told to get you to go along with it?”

Nyssa exhaled. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“I knew Rivera. Never liked him. More interested in quick profits than my father’s legacy … though my father made enough of a mockery of that on his own.” Ellis rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Most of my father’s work isn’t something I want continued. We need to destroy as much as we can. If someone else comes for it,