Ildarim's Arrow - Part 1

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It was sweltering outside, a typical late-December day in Montreal, and Lucien Voss watched through the airport windows as the skimmers loaded their passengers, separated from their gangways, and leapt into the sky, bound for wherever they may be bound for: Mumbai, Beijing, Buenos Aires, or the IOS - International Orbital Station - and here he was, for reasons difficult to explain, stuck on a flight to Greenland for an uncertain job on uncertain terms while his friends were either on vacation or just kicking back and enjoying the semester break.

It was irony, Lucien thought, for all things in his life right now were ironic. He would be the only one in his department working during break. He jogged through his visual interface (his VI) for the Cat Pollution video his friend Robert Hothic had sent him, and leaned back and closed his eyes. Either Cat Pollution was the most brilliant band in history, or they were master con artists. For the moment, he decided that their grunts and banging and screeching were infectious genius, and he raised the volume two clicks so that the noise from the busy airport faded into the background. Cat Pollution—non plus ultra!

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