Sullivan Saga 2: Sullivan's Wrath by Michael K. Rose

another marker: “Let death and exile and every other thing which appears dreadful be daily before your eyes, but most of all death, and you will never think of anything mean nor will you desire anything extravagantly.”
    Kate closed the book and meditated on these words. She recalled how such trivial things had seemed so urgent in her previous life. She remembered how she had been so angered by the petty jealousies and bickering of the other girls in Silvanian society. She remembered how shallow she had been, how much importance she had placed on material goods, on status.
    It was true that her father had possessed many expensive things and had lived an exceptionally luxurious lifestyle, but unlike the parents of her friends, he never seemed to place much importance on it. Knowledge and art were the things he prized. She supposed he had been a different man when he was younger, when he was building his empire. But after he turned control of the company over to the board of directors, he was able to spend time on things other than making money.
    That was why he had spent a fortune on the hyper-hyperspace technology. Most others would have seen it as an incredible waste of capital, considering the enormous technological obstacles that had to be overcome. Had the technology proven practical, had his pilot not encountered the hyperspace entity, he would have realized enormous profits from it, of course. But in speaking about it with Kate, he had only mentioned what it would mean for science, for technology, for the future of the human race as the travel time between planets was reduced from weeks or months to just days.
    She turned to the book again and found another marker: “If I can acquire money and also keep myself modest and faithful and magnanimous, point out the way, and I will acquire it.”
    Kate smiled. Of course her father would have found this passage of interest. Had he achieved that goal, or was it merely something he was striving toward, to have money and yet be modest, be humble, to not let it color how he viewed and treated other people?
    Kate gently set the book on the table next to the bed. Her head still throbbed, and she wanted nothing except for Rick to return and wrap his arms around her. She closed her eyes and pulled a pillow to her, hugging it. She felt cold. She felt alone.
     
    THE WAREHOUSE APPEARED to be abandoned. Most others wouldn’t have given it a second look, but Sullivan noticed the security cameras, just as Frank Allen had. Sullivan scanned the roof. It looked clear. He checked the roof and windows of the nearby buildings as well.
    Sullivan took a deep breath and jogged across the street. He tried the personnel entry to the side of the big bay door. It was locked.
    Sullivan took the gun from his waistband and chambered a round. This was the address Allen had asked Sullivan to meet him at, but he’d left the front door locked. That meant he wanted to guide Sullivan toward another entrance, probably where Allen would be in a better position to ambush him.
    Sullivan crept around the side of the warehouse and found another entrance. The space between the two warehouses formed a narrow alleyway. A cement block wall spanned the alley at the far end, too tall to climb. Sullivan only had one way out.
    He looked up and made sure the roofs were still clear before trying the handle on the side door. It was also locked. Even before it happened, Sullivan knew what Allen had planned. The whine of an electric motor came from the mouth of the alley. A small forklift appeared and scraped against the metal siding of the warehouses as it sped down the narrow alley, sending sparks flying.
    Sullivan glanced at the entryway; the door wasn’t recessed enough to shield him. He raised his gun, but the vehicle’s fork was raised, blocking his view of the driver. The headlights further blinded him. Sullivan was about to desperately empty his magazine at the forklift when it stopped.
    As Sullivan tried to see