“I’m still absorbing… everything. I mean, one minute, I’m driving home, the next I’m immortal and at some place called Nexus somewhere talking about Societies and transporter booths and people who have the title of Emily! What does it all mean?! Why am I fucking immortal?!” His hysteria broke through and Jeremy had started shouting.
Clint was grinning, but Jeremy raged on, “I’ve got school. And classes! And...and a fucking life. And now you’re telling me about secret societies and immortals!”
“Who said anything about secret?” Clint said this quietly, but it cut through Jeremy’s tirade like a hot knife through butter.
Jeremy, poleaxed, said, “What?”
“Who said any of this was a secret? Jeremy, no one here gives a flying fuck if you tell everyone on Earth about us. If you want, you could bring your President and the entire UN assembly here for the grand tour! You could rule Earth if you wanted to, it’s happened before. You’ve forgotten two important things I told you and it’s forgivable because you still think like you’re going to die; you still believe that your life is fragile.” Clint held up his fist, closed, then held up the first finger, “The first thing you have forgotten is that we are immortal and
cannot die. There is no threat that would more than inconvenience us. There are some among us who have been acknowledged as gods on other worlds and for all intents and purposes, they are. The Societies are not about enforcing a set of ethics, though ethics are a favorite topic of conversation. The Societies are about
staving off boredom