Treading carefully, we began to relax as we continued our way south."So Ilias," Abigail asked. "How was your month?" Super busy. I spent half my time at Bandar Arenas." I paused for a moment and then laughed. "And it felt as if I spent the rest of the time in supersonic jets. I was in a dozen different townships, often for only a few hours at a time."Abigail nodded and laughed back. "I suspected as much! Mudar?" Yeah. And it wasn't just negotiations with Royalty. For me, it was also a crash course in inter-Guild diplomacy. I was often the only CL-12 in the room. All the top commanders in the other Guilds wanted to know that the deals had my personal approval. It was driving my superiors crazy!"Abigail chuckled. "Your ride on the Lion?" Yeah. My Guild tried to keep it quiet for a while, but word finally leaked out. There was one other person in history who tried a full ride, back within a hundred years of the Great War. His name was Raghib, and he didn't make the gate at CL-13. I'm. Did I know you then? No, I don't think so. I would remember.I knew you were near, though. I could feel you. I know that now.All I knew then was that there was ... something ... incomplete ... about the way I was living.And behaving.My parents would never have understood. Or even recognized me. During that time.Sex. And drugs. And rock and roll. There was fighting in the street. I was a street-fightin' man. I was living a songwriter's dream.Marching and getting maced and looking at Hell's Angels dressed up as "security" and crying for the fallen here at home and cursing the fallen across the sea in another world and then going back to our little places to drink and eat and smoke and lose ourselves in sweat and saliva and secretions.Am I remembering?I think so.Nothing succeeds like excess. And I excelled at excess.A dozen or so of us in a small 2-bedroom apartment, a few in the kitchen fixing dinner for all of us, the rest in the main room, no lights on, candles everywhere. Groups of.
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