Ragnarok by Ari Bach Read Free Book Online Page B

pleasure, being free of pain for the first time in so long, standing for the first time in so long, was radiating from him like steam. She stood and smiled, and regretted deeply how obviously she must have blushed.
    The rest of that day passed quickly. It was all tests, which he performed perfectly, and scans, which showed a surgery gone well, flawlessly. She didn’t dare to ask any questions. She was scared enough when he laughed or spoke a stray word. Every miniscule fiber of information she could glean from him was a treasure. He had been crushed by an animal. He had been awake because he lost his business empire and busily ordered his men in black to reassemble what they could from his meager Venusian holdings into something worth investing in.
    As days went on, she heard more and more snips and bits about his enterprises. She wasn’t a businesswoman by nature or education, but she could grasp his skills. Back on Earth he had a great company, and for every euro of it he kept one cent on Venus. Though he had no interest in sulfur mining, he gradually paid for repair and improvement work on Iwo Donatsu. Over the years he replaced so much of it that he owned it. He never told a single Earthside employee about the venture. He never even made a profit on it. In fact, once he owned the mine, he made certain its output never improved.
    So in time he had an off-planet resort, staffed by 200 or so men loyal to him and nobody else. Filled with supplies to start anew should the need arise, not only lawyers on the strangest retainers in history or investment bankers ready to activate other hidden accounts but more. She asked what the “more” was once, and he almost told her before one of the black rubber men interrupted to dissuade him from answering, and raised a stranger question—he called the man “Little Boots.” And the patient did indeed wear shorter boots than usual to fit his Spetsnaz feet. But lacking his real name, the nickname struck her as oddly childish.
    As much as she listened to him, he seemed interested in her. What can a common programming physician say to compare with stories about conquering another planet? Every day she felt more and more inadequate, socially. Like she had nothing to offer. His recovery was so flawless she had no need to be there, so she thought. She was there as company and began to wonder why. She couldn’t be so lucky as to have caught his eye. Not like that. He didn’t give any hint of interest either and finally in passing mentioned that there was someone back on Earth. Though she wasn’t sure it was his wife. She pushed for a little more about her, called the lady back home a lucky woman, but he shook his head.
    â€œNo,” he told her, “I wouldn’t say that at all.”
    After a month he asked her to take a walk with him to a disused part of the balloon. They passed some things she didn’t expect to see. One was a giant mining drill. But this was a floating mine that collected rare, short-lived sulfur isotopes in the rain. She knew a little about Venus, but she had never heard of any purpose or even capability to mine the surface. Nobody had ever even stepped out onto the surface, she read in school, leading to a broken line of memorable first statements. “That’s one small step for a man; one giant leap for mankind,” on Luna, “I wish that the peace I see here could bless the Earth again,” from Mars, “This one’s for you, Mark Twain,” on Halley’s Comet. And from the only manned landing on Venus, “Oh my holy fucking shit I think we’re on the fucking ground! Get us up we’re gonna fucking die!”
    She was surprised, almost disappointed that he let her in on so much. Even worried that he might not let her leave knowing what she knew. But she wouldn’t tell him to stop. She wanted anything she could get of this man. No matter the cost.
    They came to a storage bay set aside