Shadow World Read Online Free PDF Page B

I thought is that StarBridge students would be eager to talk about their school and their lives here, proud of what they're doing. Not defensive. And certainly not
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    downright rude." Glaring at him, she finished sarcastically, "Is that what they teach you here? To be nasty?" As soon as the words left her mouth, Cara was instantly
    ashamed. A good journalist was supposed to be objective, but she'd let Mark's attitude get under her skin. As her taunts
    penetrated, he actually flinched.
    "I'm sorry," she began hastily. "I didn't mean to--"
    But Mark was already moving. He mumbled something at her, something that sounded like "not the school's fault," before he disappeared out the door.
    A nightmare woke Mark again that night. He jerked up in the bed with a stifled shout, his heart pounding violently. It took a second or two to realize he was awake, and then, shuddering, he waved up the lights.
    He rubbed his eyes blearily, then managed to focus. Look at this mess, dammit! He used to be reasonably neat. Now there were clothes, cassettes, dirty laundry, and half-eaten snacks everywhere.
    With a long sigh, Mark crawled out of bed and began to pick up the stuff littering the floor. Better to straighten up the mess than to dwell on his problems.
    But his mind wouldn't cooperate, and when he found the message-cassette on the floor under the desk, his memory played it back to him with cruel clarity:
    "Mark, honey, I received your hologram yesterday," he could almost hear his mother say. "So much nicer than just an audio, even if it is more expensive."
    But she had sent only an audio message herself. That alone should have made me suspicious, he thought. He was sure now that she had not wanted him to see the ravages of her illness in her face.
    Shit, Mom, you didn't have to work so hard to hide the truth. I probably wouldn't have noticed, no matter what kind of message you sent ... unless, maybe, you'd held up a sign.
    In his hologram Mark had told his mother he'd decided not to take the long break StarBridge allowed at the end of his fourth year, as they'd originally planned. "The trip to Earth takes so long," he'd said. "And if I forgo the break, I can start right into my last year; it'll move the whole program and 26
    graduation up earlier. Mom, I'll definitely come home for a good long visit after that," he'd promised, knowing how much she'd missed her only child these past four years.
    How comfortless, bitter even, that promise must have sounded to her! Mark clenched his fingers on the cassette until his knuckles whitened. It hadn't been until weeks later, when Rob Gable called him in to gently break the news, that he'd learned that his mother knew--had known all year--that she was dying.
    It didn't matter that even had he taken his break, he wouldn't have made it home in time. What mattered was that he had taken away her hope of seeing him for the last time. What mattered was that in all her messages during that last year, he'd never once picked up on her desperation and the need behind her increasingly frequent references to his trip home. What mattered was that he'd even missed the ring of finality in some of the things she'd said in her last communication.
    How can I be a hotshot interrelator, someone who specializes in understanding the other person's viewpoint, if I can't even figure out that my own mother is dying?
    Mark flung the cassette against the far wall so hard its cover cracked. He froze, wondering if he'd damaged it ... then decided he didn't really want to know, not right at the moment.
    He had to get out of that room. Cautiously Mark opened his door and stepped into the living area he shared with Hamir. It was empty and silent, and the door to the other bedroom was closed. With a sigh of relief that his suitemate hadn't awakened, Mark slipped out into the main corridor.
    He took a long walk through the dimly lit hallways of the Academy's artificial night. Night wanderings had become almost routine these past