Heather rested her chin in her palm. "Of course he's trying to manipulate you, Tom."Tom blinked, surprised she'd just admitted that."General Marsh even ordered me to come here and talk you into it, just as you guessed. Can you blame him? He doesn't want you to turn this down after you've found out the big secret about the neural processors." She tapped a finger thoughtfully on her lips, studying him. "Good thing you won't.""I won't?" Tom said, feeling out of his depth with her."Mmm, no. You won't," Heather said matter-of-factly. "You know exactly what it means if you come here. They stick an expensive, multimillion-dollar computer in your head. They invest tens of millions more training you. Then they give you control of billions of dollars of military machinery and a critical role in the country's war effort. You're valuable. So yes, the military has an agenda when it comes to dealing with you. And so does General Marsh. But that's really what you have to put up with if you want to be one of us. The question is, Tom, do you want to be one of us?" She leaned closer, her eyes gripping his. "Do you want to be somebody important?"And there it was.There it was.Tom leaned back in his seat and tipped his drink to Heather-but really to salute the man who wasn't there but who had just won this match. Well played, General Marsh. Well played.Because, more than anything, Tom wanted to do something. Something other than move casino to casino, something other than turn into his dad.He'd give anything to be important. Excerpted from Insignia by S. J. Kincaid All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
