Spheres of Influence-eARC Read Online Free PDF Page B

your…unusual metabolism certainly helped, but—”
    “No buts! If DuQuesne came here, it’s time to move! I need my clothes!”
    She looked at DuQuesne. “After fifty years, his clothes—”
    “—Had better be right where I locked them up.” DuQuesne said. “Hang on, Wu, I’ve got the only key code to unlock ’em. Except you ought to shower off, first. Nanos or not, there’s nothing like a real shower to get a guy going after a long sleep, and you’ve been playing Rip Van Winkle for about five decades.”
    Davison looked reluctant as his erstwhile patient (still clutching a sheet around him) made his painful way into the indicated bathroom. “I’m not sure…”
    “It’s okay, Doctor.” DuQuesne spoke surprisingly gently. “This is what I always hoped might happen. You’ve done your part. He’ll be fine, I guarantee it. You know what he is.”
    The serious face suddenly gave a boyish smile, and Davison shook his blond head. “Yes, I do, and I suppose that’s part of it. I would give…a great deal…to see what happens next.”
    DuQuesne nodded. “Maybe you will, Doc. If that’s really what you want. You proved you’ve got what it takes. There aren’t many people I’ve ever trusted in the last fifty years, but I’ve had to trust you with Wu every single day. And you did good. If you want, I’ll recommend you for any damn job you want, including the one we aren’t talking about right now.”
    Davison smiled back. “Thank you. And I will think about it.” He turned to go, obviously recognizing that they’d have private things to discuss, then paused. “Out of curiosity—when I first started, I got records of…Wu Kung’s condition, but you’d sanitized all the records. How many of us were there?”
    “Taking care of Wu, you mean? There were four before you, not counting the years I did it myself at first. You were the fifth.”
    “One every ten years. I see.” Davison nodded, the minor question answered, and left.
    DuQuesne watched him go, then nodded. “Come on.” He led the way to a door panel at the rear of the room. As he opened it, Ariane could see that it, and the entire structure of the vault behind it, were reinforced ring-carbon composite, the toughest material available outside of the Arena. “A vault like that for some old clothes?”
    DuQuesne shook his head. “Very special clothes.” From within he pulled out a surprising folded mass of clothing, edges glittering with gold, red, purple, and other shades. The big man reached back in and pulled out a long, bright-red enameled staff with gold-capped ends and a slender circlet of gold. He strode over to the closed shower doorway, knocked, and opened it. Wisps of steam drifted out. “Hey, Wu; I’m putting your clothes here on the counter.”
    Wu Kung said something she couldn’t quite catch, but it seemed satisfactory because DuQuesne came out empty-handed and closed the door. They waited.
    A few minutes later the door suddenly opened and Sun Wu Kung tumbled out, bounding to his feet and halting before the two with a gesture at once so grand and comical that Ariane found herself laughing and clapping at the same time. Wu Kung’s outfit was something that had never existed outside of Hyperion, a strange cross between the robes of a Chinese Emperor, the simplicity of the martial-arts gi worn by countless students of karate and kung-fu, the formal dress of the Japanese Samurai, and the fancies of any number of writers. It was layered and colorful, with formal lines yet open design for movement, symbols and patterns stitched across it in rich, deep colors, imperial crimson and royal purple and majestic azure and immortal jade. His black-red mane of hair was bound back by the golden circlet, a single water-clear diamond like a glittering eye in the very center of the circlet, and his clawed right hand gripped the staff. He bowed extravagantly low, and then grinned up at them both. “Behold the Monkey King, reborn into this