Children of a Dead Earth Book One by Patrick S Tomlinson Read Free Book Online

top floors. Even in the Ark’s designed utopia, society had found ways to stratify itself.
    The elevator at the far end of the bar chimed, bringing Benson’s attention back to more practical matters. The doors opened, and Lieutenant Alexopoulos emerged from their embrace. Benson’s jaw nearly hit the bar at the sight of her. She wore a blood red dress, the color of which set off her Mediterranean tone and features beautifully, while its low cut set off her other, more tangible assets just as successfully.
    Theresa spotted him at the bar, and Benson stood up involuntarily as she approached. “Ah, um. Hi Esa,” was the best he could do with so much blood suddenly rushing away from his brain.
    Theresa smiled warmly. “Hi yourself.”
    â€œYou’re, um, a little late.”
    â€œI’m sorry, it took me longer than usual to get ready. It’s not a problem, is it?” Her lower lip puffed out just a little bit at the end of the question.
    â€œNo, of course not. You cleaned up nice.”
    Theresa huffed. “Honestly, Bryan. I spend an hour pouring myself into this dress and wrestling with my hair, and you make it sound like I barely managed to throw on a clean shirt.”
    â€œNo, that’s not what I meant!” Theresa’s glare bore into him expectantly. “I mean, you look–”
    She put a hand on her hip. “Amazing, ravishing, stunning?”
    â€œâ€“like a fireplace on a cold night. Warm, inviting, and with a hint of danger.”
    She continued to glare at him for a long moment before her face softened. “All right, that was a good recovery. Is our table ready?”
    â€œI’ll let the host know you’ve arrived.”
    A few minutes later they sat next to the railing overlooking the entire length of Avalon. The view was spectacular. The lights above had finished cycling into night some twenty minutes ago, casting the scene in the dim twilight of streetlamps and windows that wrapped around them like constellations of stars. Or, Benson reflected, maybe more like a warm blanket. As massive as Avalon’s habitat was, it was still a finite, comprehensible quantity.
    He, along with everyone else born in the last two hundred and twenty odd years, had grown up knowing exactly how big the world was. Nothing lay “just over the horizon”, because there was no horizon. What must it have been like for the countless generations of humans born before the Ark? What was it like to grow up beneath an infinite sky? Personally, Benson suspected it was the reason early man had sought the comfort of caves, and why people through the centuries had spent so extravagantly to construct artificial versions.
    Theresa selected a pod from the bowl of edamame and pinched the beans into her mouth, then shared the view with him for a time.
    â€œYou’re awfully quiet.”
    â€œHmm?” Benson looked back from his introspection. “Sorry. It’s been a long couple of days.”
    â€œHave you learned anything new about our missing man?”
    â€œOh, just that he was a model worker that everybody loved, despite no one really knowing anything about him, except that no one would ever dream of harming him.”
    â€œSo, nothing useful.”
    Benson shook his head. “Not really, no.”
    â€œAny word on the painting? Is it real?”
    â€œDevorah is still running her tests. She’s supposed to call me as soon as she has an answer.”
    Their waiter reappeared with their orders and a fresh carafe of sake for the table. Bryan’s plate was loaded down with perch, tench, and catfish rolls. Theresa had opted for bluegill and a veggie roll. Hardly “traditional” sushi fish, but due to the Ark’s lack of saltwater oceans, chefs had adapted their recipes to the few species that were used in the hydroponic farms and water reclamation ponds.
    Benson picked up his chopsticks and was about to dive in when a single piece