Enforcer by Matthew Farrer

Author:Matthew Farrer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-06-11T09:39:52+00:00

The Flotilla of Hoyyon Phrax. In transit

‘–useless if he–’

Blackness.

‘–ink he’s going to be able t–’

Blackness.

‘–atch what you’re doing, I don’t kn–’

Blackness/a moment of pain/blackness.

‘–e thought it best, magos. But Doctor D’Leste, sir, I should tell you that the codes–’

Fading away more slowly this time, but still…

…blackness.

Slow fade up, blurry light. Something wedged in his mouth. Needs to get it free, needs to–

‘Gods, but he’s thrashing! Get over here! I don’t care, just get over here and hold the little bastard down, get him, get his arm!’

Blurred movements in the blurred light. Pressure bearing down on tender muscle and skin. Pain. Have to get the pressure off.

‘How can he be so bloody strong, look at him! Damn it, get D’Leste! No, get the magos. Yes, bloody well disturb him! Do it! Give me that slapneedle–’

A startling cold sting through the fog of raw pain.

Blackness.

Dreams, for the first time in a while. Not good dreams. Wandering through the decks and halls as a child again, dead bodies bleeding through their skins littering the floors and piling up in the arches and hatchways. Mother’s voice echoing through the ship. She’s singing a lullaby, except that she’s trying not to cry at the same time. Hearing her aches.

Blackness.

Light. Not blurred this time. A white, concave ceiling and figures, way up in the distance, looking down on him. Faces he knows from shipboard musters and officers’ gatherings. He knows there was something about them that was so clear, so clear, back before all the light and the blackness and the dreams and the pain.

There is still pain, though. His brain seems to float in a strange, unearthly cup of it.

Rich red at the foot of the bed. Hard to see. He knows he stabbed someone. Did they live? Couldn’t have. Did they die and come to tell him they’re dead? They must have. In the tilted fever-logic that is all he can think in now, he decides this must be the only explanation.

‘Can you hear me? Can you understand me?’ The voice is odd in cadence, beautifully warm and soft, but soulless with it, like the voice of an actor who can reproduce all the appearances of a human voice but believes none of them.

‘Ensign Petronas, can you understand me?’

A rich red robe with odd, geometrical gold trim, characters that he doesn’t recognise. A steel chain at the neck. And above the neck, the face, the face of pale flesh and glittering metal and a single red-rimmed eye…

‘His cognition seems to be returning,’ says the voice from that face as he thrashes and the hands grasp his arms again. ‘Sedate him. Another day of rest and we’ll see if he’s ready to meet with us.’

Blackness.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.