[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Blue took a hard left turn, marched up the wooden steps, and pushed on the
door. Hinges squealed, Lak-Tal looked up, and daylight speared his eyes.
Marta experienced a strange sense of inevitability as Ivory led the column of
skinheads into the very place that everyday logic dictated they should least
want to go.
But these were strange days, when everyday logic didn t always apply and
audacity did. The Howthers understood the fundamental brilliance of Ivory s
plan and so did she: Power, the kind required to change the course of history,
lay at the epicenter of human activity. And that, insofar as she could tell,
washere, on the slopes of Hell Hill. The ZOG had been weakened if not
destroyed. The long-awaited Armageddon had arrived. This was their chance.
The easy part was getting in. Now, as the column trudged up one of the many
roads cut into the side of the hill, the real challenge presented itself. How
to stop short of check-in? To fade into the stacks and successfully establish
themselves? Would the rank-and-file slaves take the skins in? Or rush to
betray them? There was no way to know.
But at least some of the slaves had to hate the muds as much as the skins
did, especially given the way some of them had collaborated with the Saurons.
That made them a natural constituency. A fact Ivory was counting on.
The column turned a corner and two of the slaves split off. They faded into
Page 146
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
the crowd and quickly disappeared, something that would have been impossible
if the guards had been guards rather than skinheads. The march continued.
Ten minutes later it was Marta s turn to surreptitiously unhook the drag
chain, scurry into a narrow passageway, and pause to check her surroundings.
An observation tower stood no more than half a block away, but, like all such
structures, offered a poor view of events taking place directly below it. So,
ironic though it was, the closer one came to such a tower, the less dangerous
it became.
Seeing no signs of pursuit, Marta pulled a counterfeit tag out of her pocket,
secured it to what remained of her ear, and hurried up the path. There was
good reason to believe that her brother was close by. The Saurons continued to
drop talking leaflets wherever the sheeple might find them. One of them, a
tract listing the benefits of slavery, showed Franklin with a white man
standing almost behind him. The face was older now but unmistakably Jack s.
Marta had been surprised to see her brother in a photo with the collaborator,
but she understood. Her brother wanted to survive, and with no other
possibilities to choose from, accepted the situation he found himself in. But
not anymore. Now there was anew choice theright choice.
Marta imagined the look of surprise on her brother s face, the strength of
his embrace, and the sound of his voice.
Somehow, in some way, he had freed her. Marta knew that now, even if she
didn t know how. Now it was her turn to save him.
ABOARD THE SAURON DREADNOUGHTHOK NOR AH
The Sauron s chitin made a crackling sound as Fra Pol ran the heaviest knife
he d been able to lay his hand on along the suture line that started in the
Kan s armpit and ran diagonally to the bottom of his thorax, where it met up
with a similar seam that originated under the warrior s right arm.
The initiate looked up. Fra Wor was in charge of the documentation phase of
the autopsy and had no less than three separate lenses focused on the
operating table. One wide, one medium, and one tight so a report could be
edited together for the benefit of the Dromas. Wor intercepted the look and
nodded. Everything was under control, if any part of what he regarded to be a
living nightmare could be referred to as under control.
Thus reassured, Pol returned to his work. To have the camera equipment fail
after they had waited so long, and taken such terrible risks, would have been
more than he could possibly bear.
The initiate raised the knife for the second time. Pressured from within, and
weakened by the superficial incision made moments before, the entire thorax
was ready to burst open. Pol had two assistants, neither of whom was very
happy.
Gases had already started to leak out, and Fra Dras, never one to investigate
the more visceral aspects of life, had started to feel ill.
Pol s second assistant, the comely Shu, wrinkled her nose. The visuals didn t
trouble her, but the odor was really gross.
Carefully, and with as much precision as he could muster, Pol brought the
Page 147
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
heavy knife down onto the left suture line. He applied pressure, felt the
chitin give, and heard a prolonged cracking sound.
Both margins gave way at the same time, the Kan s chitinous chest plate
bulged outward, and two sides of a thick, semitrans-parent sac boiled out of
the Sauron s thoracic cavity. The stench was horrible.
Pol fought the desire to throw up, peeled the chest plate away, and revealed
what lay within. The nymph, only barely recognizable as such, could be seen
through the nearly transparent natal sac. There was no doubt about it no doubt
at all. The Kan had been pregnant at the time of his death.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]