The Curiosity Killers by K W Taylor Read Free Book Online

the incision, and almost cried. More stupidity delaying him from his release, getting to feel so much warm, coppery blood slipping between his fingers? No. He wouldn’t allow it.
    “Medical tests?” He stood, pounding a fist on his desk. “What the hell for?” There was no way some stupid, arbitrary thing was going to delay his power, his revenge, his feelings any longer. When he dreamed of murdering the London prostitute, Claudio felt alive, real, and in control. Having that control taken away now was not acceptable. He wanted to smell her fear, see her eyes cloud over and the light behind them flicker out like a candle.
    Ambrose gave his boss the rundown of cardiovascular considerations. When he finished, Claudio was still determined to avoid the test.
    “You’re going to believe some fucking Empiricist scum over me ? I’m fine , you idiot. Get that in me and send me back. Now .”
    “But, sir, if you die—”
    “If I die, then God intended it, and our citizens will understand. They already look to Spaulding, and I’m sure my team could advise him.”
    “If you die, Mister Florence,” Ambrose said, his tone a little more forceful than usual, “forgive me, but Mister Spaulding is an idiot. Who d’you really feature takin’ over for your real duties, hmm? Me ? I’d wager not. If you don’t want a medical test, then at least finally appoint a lieutenant.”
    Claudio studied the young man. He was educated—despite his woeful lack of street smarts—capable with his science, and his values were right. But he was a foreigner, born in the NBE, and despite his defection and apparent allegiance, one could never be quite sure of someone’s lingering feelings about his homeland.
    It occurred to Claudio that he himself was trying to get back to England—an England of centuries ago, but still the country of Ambrose’s birth. Still the seat of power of the NBE in present day.
    But I’m going back to kill one of them . An inconsequential one, but a citizen of that future nation nonetheless. I’m doing my work back there. I’m getting rid of a whole Empiricst bloodline, perhaps.
    He took a deep breath, urged himself to calm down for appearance’s sake. Claudio walked around his desk and clasped a hand on Ambrose’s shoulder. “Son, you know I value your contributions, no matter how much I point out your shortcomings.”
    “With great frequency, sir,” Ambrose said, narrowing his eyes and standing up straighter.
    “I’m just trying to challenge you,” Claudio said. “You have great potential.”
    Ambrose relaxed and smiled. “Thank you, Mister Florence.”
    “However, I can’t make you my successor. And you’re right about Spaulding. I appointed him because he’s malleable. You’re not. But you’re also not native born.”
    Ambrose shrugged. “Didn’t think it would be me, sir, but still. Fellow has to ask, right?”
    “Of course.”
    “But you have to appoint somebody,” Ambrose continued. “Won’t do it otherwise, unless you want to consent to the physical.”
    You aren’t immortal , but what if you could bring someone forward in time, someone who could really lead Rénertia to greatness? That should be your successor, someone bold who understands keeping this young country great, pure, and strong.
    “You’re right, boy,” Claudio said. “Go ahead and check my ticker. I’m sure you’ll see it’s in tiptop shape. I’ll draw up some paperwork about any necessary change in power.”
    Ambrose nodded and led his boss to the medical suite.

    Friday, August 31, 1888, London, England
    Polly Nichols wandered out of the inn when her rent was used up. “Oy, I got me a nice new bonnet, and it’s bound to earn me enough for tonight’s bed!” she shouted at the owner as she left.
    “We’ll see, girl. Now out with ya.”
    Polly adjusted her bonnet and headed for the pub across the street, but when she spotted the scrawny man who’d left her the night before she turned to head the other