Oh mother tell your children, not to do what I have done.
Cable could be called a great deal of things but he wasn't a coward. He wasn't scared of physical pain, or death, or of what people thought of him or of making the hard choices. He wasn't afraid of anything, really.
So when he opened his eyes to find that the trees and sun of Tabula Rasa had turned into stone dark tunnels and the birdsong replaced by the familiar march of pounding feat, he reacted more with annoyance then fear. This was another trick by his hosts, presumably, and he intended to treat this one just like he treated any other. He would sit patiently in a comfortable seat and wait for it to be over with as little fuss as possible. He'd long since grown tired of other people trying to make him dance on their strings and didn't like to give them the satisfaction of reacting.
It wasn't until he heard the voices that he knew that something was wrong. Around him were soldiers, which wasn't unusual and they were looking at him expectantly, which also wasn't unusual but, in this case, he recognized them. They all wore faces and voices that should have been forgotten over the years but somehow never had been.
"Dayspring," he heard himself being addressed by a name he'd long discarded and realized, vaguely, how much younger he must be, "do you think the Autosystems are still on line?"
And that was when he knew which day it was. And for the first time in a very long time, he was afraid of what came next.
So when he opened his eyes to find that the trees and sun of Tabula Rasa had turned into stone dark tunnels and the birdsong replaced by the familiar march of pounding feat, he reacted more with annoyance then fear. This was another trick by his hosts, presumably, and he intended to treat this one just like he treated any other. He would sit patiently in a comfortable seat and wait for it to be over with as little fuss as possible. He'd long since grown tired of other people trying to make him dance on their strings and didn't like to give them the satisfaction of reacting.
It wasn't until he heard the voices that he knew that something was wrong. Around him were soldiers, which wasn't unusual and they were looking at him expectantly, which also wasn't unusual but, in this case, he recognized them. They all wore faces and voices that should have been forgotten over the years but somehow never had been.
"Dayspring," he heard himself being addressed by a name he'd long discarded and realized, vaguely, how much younger he must be, "do you think the Autosystems are still on line?"
And that was when he knew which day it was. And for the first time in a very long time, he was afraid of what came next.