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She vanished; Ryan dived after her. He didn't see the maw this time because he
had his eye closed, but he felt the thunder down to his toes.
Chapter Thirty-One
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Across a wide, lush meadow framed by tall evergreens, Ryan saw the glowing
lights of the crude log cabin. Warm. Yellow. Inviting. They said "home."
Home at last.
When he saw his companions step out onto the porch, smiling, he broke into a
trot. Krysty ran out to meet him, her beautiful hair flowing down around her
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shoulders. They kissed, and her lips were softer and warmer than he had ever
thought possible.
Then the others rushed up. Dean, Jak, Mildred, Doc and J.B. They took turns
embracing him and slapping him on the back.
"Come on inside, Ryan," the Armorer said. "We got quite a meal laid out in
honor of your return."
They took him through the wooden door. Beside the hearth was a table set for
seven. On it was a huge haunch of smoked roast boar, pots of yams, stewed
greens, jugs of dark ale, crusty bread.
"Sit at the head of the table, dear boy," Doc said, as he sharpened a carver
on a steel. The old man attacked the juicy haunch, slicing it into thick
slabs.
Soon they were hard at it, laughing, eating, drinking.
After the apple pies had been vanquished, as the brimming ale jug went around
a last time, a sudden pall fell over the table.
Ryan looked at his friends and saw the growing unease on their faces.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
J.B. waved him off, scraping back his chair. He started to get up, then
slumped back down. He seemed perplexed.
"I feel decidedly queer," Doc admitted. He stuck out his tongue and wiped it
on his white cloth napkin. He gawked at the result in horror. "Look! Look at
this& "
The napkin was green where he had touched it to his tongue.
Mildred fell into a kind of fit. She clutched both hands to her throat and
made sounds as if she were slowly strangling. Her eyes bugged out of their
sockets, then
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thin trickles of green started to leak out of her nostrils.
Dean was bashing his forehead against the end of the table, over and over, as
if he were trying to beat in his own brains.
Jak was gagging, green fluid gushing from his eyes.
"What is it?" Ryan said, jumping to his feet.
J.B.'s swollen tongue protruded from between his teeth; it had become too big
for his mouth to contain. Green slime drooled down his chin.
Then Krysty slumped forward onto her plate.
He pulled her up at once. When he saw her face, his heart nearly stopped.
Beads of green dew dotted her cheeks and forehead. Her eyes were wild and
staring, and they wept green tears.
"Was it something we ate?" Ryan cried, sweeping the remains of the food off
the table and onto the floor. "Why aren't I sick?"
Krysty's mouth moved; no sound came out. He put his ear close. Her breath
smelled shockingly of ammonia.
"Krysty, why am I the only one who isn't sick?" he repeated.
She inhaled a deep, slow breath, summoning her strength. Then she said,
"Because you brought it with you& "
She died in his arms a moment later.
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As Ryan threw back his head to scream his outrage, the room began to spin.
HIS EARS RINGING with thunder, Ryan crashed onto his hands and knees. He
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dropped his head and began to heave. A tiny, detached part of him was aware
that
Nara and Damm were close by, and in the same condition that he was. He also
knew they were surrounded by armed men in battlesuits. He saw his friends
standing huddled to one side. He wanted to jump up and go to their aid, but
there was nothing he could do. He was helpless in the throes of nausea. Over
and over, the spasms gripped him. Unstoppable.
When they finally calmed, he knelt there, forehead lowered to the ground,
strands of vomit swaying from his chin.
"Well, I guess I was wrong about your never seeing this one again."
Ryan recognized the voice. It belonged to the colonel. He raised his head from
the dirt, put his hand to his stomach and pretended to retch some more. As he
did, his fingers dipped inside his pocket for the slap charge he had
squirreled away.
Ryan waited, because he knew he was weakened, and that he would only have one
chance.
When the colonel stepped a little closer, Ryan threw himself at the man. He
grabbed him by the shoulder, turned him, then locked a forearm across the
bottom of his helmet.
The other black-armored men started to close in immediately.
"What exactly do you think this is going to get you?" the colonel said with a
laugh. "You can't hurt me."
"Mebbe I can't, but this can."
Ryan showed him the AP, charge, holding it right in front of his nose. Then he
said to the others, "Lower your blasters or this guy's head is going to
disappear."
"Cook him," the colonel said.
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"Sir, I think he means it," Hylander said.
"And I think he's bluffing. Take him out!"
"No, don't!" Nara cried as she struggled to her feet. "I know him, Colonel. He
will kill you."
The colonel shrugged. "I'm expendable, Jurascik. Just like any of the others.
Just like you. The mission will go on without me. And that's all that
matters."
"There isn't a mission anymore," Nara told him. "On the other side, it's all
falling apart. Right now, FIVE is probably already at war with itself. There's
not going to be an exodus from Earth. Not of a million, not even a thousand."
"She's right," Damm said. "The only people who are going to come across after
us are a handful of CEOs and Totality Concept bigwigs. The rest of the hundred
billion is as good as dead. My guess is, the bastards have arranged it so no
one else can follow."
"Things could come together again," the colonel said. "Sometime in the future
maybe."
"You've got to face facts. There's not going to be a next time. This is the
final gasp."
"I know that's a possibility " [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]