Читать книгу The Puzzler’s War - Eyal Kless - Страница 9

Not withstanding the horrible memories of my demise, waking up from the dead the first time was a pleasant experience, to the point where for a moment I’d wondered if I was in one of those heavenly gardens many of the different religions promised you ended up in if you followed their creed. This time I woke up in a place which was the extreme opposite of paradise.

Various metallic instruments that must have kept my new body alive withdrew into darkness, and the bed simply tilted and I slid down to the metal floor. I lay there, gasping for air, blind and horrified, surrounded by darkness, pierced by the periodic flashing of red lights accompanied by a deafening siren. As I tried to get up, a calm yet loud female voice spoke, informing me that I was in danger and must leave the premises. I did not need her encouragement. My skin stung, not in a certain place or two, but over my entire body, as if the air was on fire. I knew to the core of my new being that whatever I was breathing was killing me. I coughed, sneezed, vomited, and lost control of my bowels in nasty succession, while trying in vain to get hold of something to push myself up with.

Amid all that fun one instinct remained true. I tried to deepen my sight, the curse that touched me in youth and the only edge I had on most of mankind. It didn’t work. Not at first, anyway. When it finally did, it was not as I remembered. My sight flickered through various mediums of vision, a few of which I only knew about from stories. The quick sequence left me completely disoriented. Whatever progress I was making in getting up was lost and I hit the floor again, sitting in my own bile and bodily fluids, covering my eyes with my hands and wishing this life would end faster than my previous death had taken.

The sirens and the urging female voice were too loud for me to hear steps, but I felt their vibration as someone ran towards me. I tried to look around, flailing my arms in the darkness, but my sight was out of control—I was completely blinded by the flashing of various shades of light and darkness.

A hand caught my arm, and as I was hauled to my feet I felt the grasping fingers burn my skin.

“Try not to breathe.” I didn’t recognise the voice, but the accent was familiar.

“I can’t see, I …” Another cough caught me as my body battled whatever I was breathing, and this time my rescuer had to hug me to prevent another collapse.

He was naked. We both were. The strange thing was that I registered that our naked bodies were touching, but it was more a thought in my mind than what I remembered a naked body should feel. The notion was so eerie that for a moment my mind cleared.

“Slow your breathing.” His voice was at my ear as he picked me up with ease in a bear hug. “You can block some of the shit out.”

And lo and behold, there it was. I thought it, and my body slowed its breath. Whatever was coming down my throat was somehow more acceptable, even though I knew it would still kill me—well, us—shortly.

“We need to get out of here,” I croaked.

“Rust, you think so?” The man coughed out a dry chuckle. “There is a ladder here, attached to the wall.”

“I can’t see. Where does it go?”

“It goes somewhere, better up than to stay here.”

“I can’t see.” My hands flailed in the darkness.

“Here, feel this …”

He pretty much slammed me into the metal ladder, the first sign that he was losing the battle against the elements as rapidly as I was.

“I can’t see.” Panic was gripping my throat as painfully as the cursed air I was breathing.

“Climb first. If you fall I might be able to catch you.”

“I can’t, I’m too weak, I can’t see.” I wheezed, gripping a metal rung.

“Well then, been nice knowing ya, even briefly.” His hands began shoving me aside and I felt his leg brush past mine and push against the first rung.

“Wait, no, I can do it.”

The thought of staying down there and dying in agony was enough to charge me with the strength to turn around and begin climbing up the metal ladder.

He ended up carrying me on his shoulder more than half of the way. It was an amazing feat of strength, balance, and single-mindedness, especially when we reached a trap door which he did not manage to open despite several brave attempts. By this time my sight was back and I could cling to the ladder as my rescuer charged up into the metal door shouting colourful obscenities with each failed attempt to pop it open.

With careful concentration, while holding on to the ladder, I enhanced my sight and looked around. The metal lever and the paintings describing the direction in which to pull it were an arm’s length away.

I tried to speak but was too weak to say anything. My throat felt like I had swallowed nails. As sweat rained down on me from above and another loud ding echoed around us, I reached out with an aching hand and pulled the lever. It was surprisingly easy, and immediately there was a hiss from above. The door opened upwards and my rescuer whooped in triumph. A rush of hot, poisonous wind came from below and my knees buckled, but before I passed out and fell to my death my rescuer grabbed me again. I was pulled up and thrown onto cold, wet ground.

It was still unnaturally dark and blissfully cold but the air was as sweet as a woman’s caress. All I wanted to do was cling to the wet earth and keep breathing, but my rescuer had other plans.

“It’s a cave, but I can see light ahead,” he said, helping me to my feet. We waded through a stream, bending every few steps to wash the gunk off our naked bodies. Eventually we emerged into sunlight and collapsed on the bank. For a while all I could do was lie on my back, feet submerged in the water, arm shielding my face from the sun. Then I got thirsty. I turned on my side, came up to my knees, and turned around on all fours. When I lowered my face, the water felt cool on my skin, soothing, and when I opened my mouth it tasted pure and cleansing. I knew it for a fact. I knew it was pure as I tasted it and even knew the temperature of the liquid. I just didn’t know how I knew it. The water was refreshing, but I had the knowledge of its effect more than the actual feeling. It was unnatural. It was strange, but not as strange as my reflection in the water.

The face, the bald head, the eyes, the lips. I was staring into the reflection of someone else’s face. Only at a second glance did I realise what I was not seeing and managed to stifle a yelp with a hand to my mouth. My eyes were clear blue, but the thin black symbols which had appeared overnight during my adolescence were gone.

I sat back, dumbstruck, and looked around. My rescuer must have been going through the same revelation regarding his body. I saw him sitting on his haunches several yards away, staring at the water. Sensing my gaze, he turned his head and looked back at me.

“Maybe you can tell me what this rust bucket is all about?” he called. His voice was unfamiliar, but now that we were out of the deathtrap we awoke in, I recognised the dialect and it warmed my heart. Like me, he was bald—no, completely hairless, loins and all—but that was where the similarities ended. When he stood up I couldn’t help but envy his physique. It was perfection. Strong, long limbs, a lean but muscular body, and his skin as pure as a baby’s—which was more than odd, it was simply impossible. No one could be that strong, carrying me all the way up from the abyss to the surface, without having been touched by the curse and further amplified by a Tarakan device. This was a Tarakan combat vessel—he looked nothing like the man I used to know, but I didn’t care.

“Hello, Galinak,” I said.

“Who are ya?” He eyed me suspiciously as I walked towards him. “And what was that rust below?” He gestured at the cave. “And if you can answer both those questions, how about telling me why we are standing butt naked in the middle of the rusting wilderness?”

“It’s me, Twinkle Eyes,” I said.

“No, you’re not, and that’s far enough.” He took a half step away from me. I stopped.

“It’s me, Twinkle Eyes. We just have different bodies, both of us.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re rusting me, and patience was never one of my virtues. I’ll ask you for the last time. Who are you?”

I sighed. “You have a signature hip throw. You are terrible at cards. The odds in the fight we had in Vincha’s shack was five to two. You and Vincha had a weird sexual tension between you but you never actually got to …”

I watched his suspicion turn into a broad smile with every word I said.

“Well, rip my wires. Is that really you, Twinkle Eyes?” he finally asked.

I nodded and pointed at my eyes. “Just without the marks around the twinkle, I guess.”

“Bukra’s balls.” Before I could react, Galinak stepped forward, grabbed me in a crushing bear hug, and lifted me in the air like a little child.

“Galinak, put me down, you crazy Troll.” I tried to struggle, but it was like pushing against metal.

“It’s rusting Twinkle Eyes,” Galinak called out as he spun me around in his arms.

“Damn it, we’re both naked.”

“Who gives a silver wire?” Galinak shouted but eventually plunked me down on the ground and put a steadying arm on my shoulder. “I thought we were both goners,” he said. “I mean, I heard you over the Comm, negotiating with those Tarakan arse rusts when we were surrounded by those Lizards, and I remember thinking to myself, ‘Twinkles has some Salvationist spirit in him after all.’ But then the Lizards began breaking in, I heard you screaming over the Comm and …” Galinak’s eyes darkened.

“Push those memories back,” I said quickly. “They are not good to dwell on, believe me.”

“Aye, you’re probably right.” Galinak looked at himself again. “This is going to take some getting used to.”

“I know.” I looked, fighting the urge to cover my loins with my hand. “It’s as if this body is not yet my own. I wonder if we’ll sort of settle in with time.”

Galinak turned around in a slow circle, saying, “Right. Care to explain what’s going on?”

“I assume you were not briefed.”

He completed the full circle. “No, last thing I remember was what I am trying not to remember right now. Since then, completely blank. Did they speak to you?”

I nodded.

“Those smart-arse Tarkanians knew better than to wake me up for a chat,” Galinak grumbled. “I would have said several things they would be sorry to hear.”

“My conversation did not take long,” I said carefully. There was no use in agitating my only protection. “We were supposed to get more information and, you know”—I indicated both of us—“clothes and equipment and weapons.”

“Where, down there?” Galinak pointed at the cave.

“Yes, something must have gone unexpectedly wrong, some sort of malfunction or … a sabotage. But we need to get back and retrieve them.”

“That rebirth must have crossed your wires.” Galinak shook his head. “Because this new body of mine told me we were going to die down there, and that a normal human would have already been convulsing on the floor. Whatever was in that air was nasty, rust, I can still feel the sting on my skin.” He made a point of moving his hands around his naked body, brushing the invisible particles away.

“But we are naked, weaponless, in the wilderness,” I protested. “We’re alive, healthy, and there are no Lizards that I can see.”

Galinak raised a hairless eyebrow. “I’ve been in worse situations.” When he saw the look on my face he added, “I would tell you to grow a pair but that would be an inappropriate comment at this time, Twinkle.” His laughter was short-lived. I guess he wasn’t used to the sound of it, either. “You know what they want us to do, right? So just fill me in on that, but first let’s find out where we are.”

He drew my attention to an elevated boulder with a flat top. “You told me your eyes still have that special twinkle in them. I’ll give you a leg up.” He crouched into position and lifted me up with such force I almost missed the boulder and barely stopped myself from falling to the other side.

“Sorry,” Galinak apologised when I peered down at him accusingly. “I guess I am stronger than I look.” He crouched and jumped up, landing next to me in an impossible feat for any nonaugmented human. “I am starting to really like this new body,” he said, grinning.

I shook my head slightly, trying to hide my jealousy, then turned my head and began scanning the horizon. When I’d woken up in the poisonous bunker, I’d tried to use my night sight on reflex and had been unable to control the shifts in perspectives. This time I was more careful, but just to be on the safe side, I steadied myself by grabbing Galinak’s shoulder.

And like magic, it happened. I zoomed. I could see for miles in each direction. “There is a farm. Over there.”

Galinak squinted. “Where?”

“Hard for me to judge, looks like several miles.” I checked the position of the sun. “East … seems deserted. The windows are shut and the barn doors are open.”

“You can see that far?”

I turned to face him and had to steady myself as my sight shifted again. “I guess they gave us abilities that we are familiar with.”

Galinak ignored the bitterness in my voice. “Right,” he said, “we’d better start tracking while the sun’s still up, so we can get a nice tan.”

“I still think we should go back.”

“Look, Twinkle Eyes.” Galinak was starting to lose patience. “If you’re lucky, you’ll have a moment or two down there. Definitely not enough time to listen to your Tarakan friends, so all you can hope for is some gear, and rule one in the unwritten Salvationist rule book says ‘no gear is worth dying for.’ I would have been long dead if I hadn’t obeyed that rule.”

I wanted to protest further, but Galinak simply grabbed me by the waist, lifted me over his shoulder, and jumped down from the high boulder.