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don t tell me you faint at the sight of blood. Just Jacket removed, shirt-sleeves rolled up and a frown of concentration plastered across his face, the Doctor made a last saw cut in the branch of the tree. Gail watched in amusement as he pulled away the string saw and waited for the limb to fall. And waited. Hands on hips, the Doctor surveyed the branch. Hm. Unwilling to succumb to the force of gravity, weak though it may be here, eh? Well. We ll see about that! He placed both hands against the branch and pushed. The branch sepa- rated from the stump easily, but its canopy remained held in place, trapped by the surrounding foliage. The branch swung like a hundred-metre pendulum; the Doctor was forced to jump nimbly to one side as it swung back towards him. I d venture a guess that you don t do this for a living, Gail said with a smile. The Doctor scrambled up the treetrunk, selected a point about ten metres away from the first cut, wrapped his saw around the trunk and began to pull it to and fro. Ah, but it s a hobby that grows on you. Gail picked up the Doctor s jacket and pulled herself gently along a nearby bough after him. I d agree if only I knew what you were talking about. The Doctor paused, his eyes glazed slightly as if he were recalling a moment in his own past. Do you know, I once heard someone famous speak of his government using those very same words. You re likely to hear me speak of the Founding Families using a lot stronger words than those. Oh? The Doctor resumed his rhythmic swinging motion; the saw bit into the wood. I m afraid I have no respect for a group of people who, under the guise of governing a culture, are really driving it towards civil war. The Doctor wiped his brow on his arm and continued sawing. It s a com- mon theme in many of the splinter cultures; remnants, offshoots from the Empire. A small group with the financial and technical resources sets up a colony; builds their own idea of utopia. After a while they find it doesn t work the way they d hoped, and they fall back on increasingly more outrageous methods to force it into line with their ideals . . . Gail nodded passionately. While expertly ignoring the long-term potential breakdown of society in favour of a stagnated present moment which seems to last forever. You ve been listening to the Reunionists. 99 Malthus tells us nature has rules to govern such behaviour. The Doctor swung. The saw bit. Sooner or later some social cataclysm, be it revolu- tion, your war, or simply a good dose of flu, will cut away the dead wood. He paused before the last cut and looked past Gail at the glimmering ocean hanging overhead. Seems fair weather for punting. Completing the last cut, his words were punctuated by a great crack as the section of trunk floated loose. Timber! he called stridently as the trunk drifted a few centimetres and stopped against the tangled mat of vegetation. Do you know, he added with a grin, I ve always wanted to say that. Ace pulled off her shirt, watching Drew turn the knife over and over in his hands. I can t do this, he said weakly. I can t do what you want. He tried to give the knife back to her, but she grabbed his arm at the wrist and held it immovably. I m not asking you because I expect it to be a whole load of fun, Drew. She moved his hand so that the knife rested, edge downwards, against one of the nearly healed wounds on her arm. Now are you going to do it or do I have to do it for you? Ace Shut up! She pushed downwards on his hand and the knife bit into her arm. Ace locked her jaw against the pain. If she showed the slightest sign of weakness now Drew would never be able to finish the job. Again. Deeper this time. Like this. Again she moved his hand and the knife moved with it. Digging, corkscrewing, levering free a glistening . . . something which she flipped away without daring to look at it. There, she said through clenched teeth. It s easy. See? Blood spilled from the wound; some lifting to hang in globules between them. One down. Lots to go. Beside her, Drew was trembling all over. I can t do it, Ace, I just can t, because I m just no good at this sort of thing, honestly I m not, and anyway why didn t you have something done at the shuttle when you were there? That would have been the sensible thing to Bugger the sensible thing to do! Ace s breathing was fast and shallow. I didn t because I just didn t. Because I was scared, all right? Scared of what might be happening to me. Her eyes locked with Drew s as she pressed down- wards on his hand, feeling his arm tremble as the blade rested against another healing wound. It was easy to ignore it then, but I can t do that any more. Now cut! I can t! 100 You must! And she moved his hand again, feeling the blade cut, twist, lever [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |