Tag Archives: tales of the final fall of man

A Railgun Brain, Part XVIII

He became aware, weirdly, of having eyes and eyelids before he was aware that he was once again seeing things in the usual way. He lay and looked at the clean metal ceiling of C. Sentinax’s medical bay for several … Continue reading

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A Railgun Brain, Part XVI

The pain didn’t flash and fade, didn’t give way to the numb juddering of a body in shock, didn’t wink into the nothingness of a body deceased. It went on, a roaring bonfire through his every boiling fragment, rising beyond … Continue reading

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A Railgun Brain, Part XV

He slept, but not well. When he woke, and stepped out of the slightly preservative-scented guest quarters, the Colossus was heavily silent around him. “Um, good morning, C. Sentinax?” he called. “Good morning, MagaXidh Ende,” C. Sentinax’s voice came from … Continue reading

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A Railgun Brain, Part XIV

They ate again, Viator apologising for his lack of familiarity with human patterns of digestion and rest. Once upon a time, he claimed – again without confirming anything specifically – he’d been quite well-versed in primate upkeep. But the skills … Continue reading

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A Railgun Brain, Part XIII

“The Repositorium led me to it,” Viator said, “or at least revealed where it had been placed as part of a relic storage effort. Basically a mothballed lab that had run the full gauntlet of shady-fuck ownership. I’m talking the … Continue reading

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A Railgun Brain, Part XII

“Welcome back, Commander Broker,” a gravelly human-male voice spoke from a dark, chilly corner of the landing bay as they disembarked and headed for the back of C. Sentinax’s throat. Elan looked up, then turned to Broker and jerked a … Continue reading

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A Railgun Brain, Part XI

The darkness beyond the Hades line was complete, once again making Elan irrationally glad of his mum’s cardigan. With Þursheim’s sun far, far behind them and the closest stars – if he had to guess, from the slightly larger pinpricks … Continue reading

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A Railgun Brain, Part X

Sometimes I ponder the [chalice / urn], and the unquiet [evil, poison, also markers for a struggle, the fight between grace and damnation, check the Old Sloane Concordance for notes on the Angelic and the Demonic, facets of human nature] … Continue reading

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A Railgun Brain, Part IX

The Fleet cruiser Broker had somehow finagled for his personal use was really very nice. Elan didn’t think he’d been aboard any private or pleasure vessel that was more luxurious, not that he had been aboard that many. He moved … Continue reading

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A Railgun Brain, Part VIII

They talked long into the night, going back and forth over the Butterfly’s strange story and the seemingly endless interpretations enabled by the accompanying texts Elan had collected. Broker, of course, had no need of sleep but was actually beginning … Continue reading

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