Patterns of Chaos by Colin Kapp

Author:Colin Kapp
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780441653904
Publisher: Ace,
Published: 1972-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

'Perhaps it started as a whisper in some white wilderness ... ' Jaycee's voice.

The pain and the consciousness flooded back as the semantic trigger threw off the protective blackout. The mongol's eyes widened, and a vicious thrust to the solar plexus made Bron scream with what little breath he still retained.

' ... a broken body, cradled in cold, crying futility unto a futile wind.'

'Jaycee, for God's sake stop it! Let me go.' He made no attempt at subvocalizing. It was as much as he could do to form the words at all. She was playing with him, deliberately using the trigger to keep him conscious so that his awareness of the torment would continue. Again and again the blows fell savagely.

' ... the mind mazed not by the searing steel, the nibbling nerve ... '

'Jaycee, in the name of pity!' He no longer cared whether he lived or died. All he wanted was release from the scientific and merciless battering which his body was taking.

' ... some maimed martyr, crazed upon the cross, held up his head and cried unto the heavens: LORD, WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME?'

It was a full minute before he realized the punishment had stopped. Blood swam in his eyes and dripped warmly from his chin. He was still standing, but only by virtue of the arms which held him. Somehow he forced himself to appraise the situation. Two of the Destroyer shipmen were looking at something black and white which with difficulty he identified as the Bible from his pocket.

Then the leader advanced again. Bron held his breath, knowing that a few more blows must certainly injure him fatally. But the blows never came. Through one eye he was astounded to see that the mongol's face held a look of admiration.

'J.C.,' he said. 'Jesus Chris'. I seen many men killed by less beatin' than that. All of them wen' out whimperin'. But you still pray. I don't know abou' church, but i' make you bloody tough man. Wish you were fight on my side. You bloody indestructible.'

Dimly Bron discerned that they dragged him from the Chart-room, and even more dimly he felt a couch like an ocean of whiteness thrust beneath him. He was only partly conscious of the washing and the cool salve they heaped on the tortured flesh. But the one thing that burned in his consciousness before the blackness closed around him was the voice of Jaycee deep within his head saying: 'That's only a sample of the tricks I can play on you, Bron. I'll teach you to get so lucky as to forget about me!'

He woke in a foreign cabin, sensing that someone had just left the room but unable to explain the reason why he thought this to be so. It was not until the aroma of baked meats from a hot tray caught his nostrils that his suspicion was confirmed.

Wincing with pain of movement he thrust himself off the couch and staggered towards the wall mirror. There

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