Thursday May 21, 2015
Book 16: Big, Dumb Objects — Part I


MURTAUGH: When I was twenty-three one of my squadmates caught a bullet and spent a week in the cryokit.

SCHLOCK: Did she come back different?

MURTAUGH: I don't know.

She was one of my dearest friends, but now my memories of her are... foggy. I can't see her face, or spell her name.

SCHLOCK: That's probably just because you're getting old.

And you were getting old before you died, so hey, you came back the same!