Infante

The Infante walked with his hands clasped behind him, drawing in a deep breath.  His throat and lungs prickled with plague and the responses of the implanted countermeasures fighting it off.

> > [...]

“I am hyperaware of my own function,” the Infante said.  “I can turn my mind’s eye inward and I’m aware of every component, of temperature and nutrition levels.  I am intimately aware of every weapon stored within me.  I am very much aware that the plague has not found root in me.”

“The exposure level you just endured was unprecedented, Lord Infante.”

“Others have faced the same,” the Infante said.

“If you mean the ones who now lie dead, then I have to protest, My Lord.”

“I will take that under advisement,” the Infante said.

Interlude 18y