Eagle in the Sky - Smith Wilbur - Страница 49

• Предыдущая
• 49/90
• Следующая

All I have been able to do, so far, is heal your exposed flesh and make

you functional again.  You are once more a viable human being.  You have

not experienced the loss of any of your faculties but I will not pretend

that you are beautiful.  However, there remains much that I can still do

to change that.

Your ears, for example, can be reconstructed with the material I have

reserved for that purpose, He indicated the stump of the pedicel that

still hung from David's forearm - There is much fine work stiH to be

done about the nose and mouth and eyes.  He paced slowly the length of

the ward and looked out into the sunlight for a moment before turning

back again and coming forward to face David.

But let me be truthful with you.  There are limitations to what I can

do.  The muscles of expression, those delicate little muscles around the

eyes and mouth have been destroyed.  I cannot replace those.  The hair

follicles of your lashes and brows and scalp have been burned away.

You will be able to wear a wig, but David turned to his bedside locker

and took from the drawer his wallet.  He opened it and drew out a

photograph.  it was the one which Hannah had taken so long ago of Debra

and David sitting at the rock-pool in the oasis of Em Gedi and smiling

at each other.  He handed it to the surgeon.

Is that what you looked like, David?  I never knew.  The regret showed

like a quick shadow in his eyes.  Can you make me look like that again?

The surgeon studied the photograph a moment longer, the young god's face

with the dark mop of hair and the clean pure lines of the profile.  No,

he said.  I could not even come close That's all I wanted to know. David

took the photograph back from him.

You say I'm functional now.  Let's leave it at that, shall we?  You

don't want further cosmetic surgery?

We can still do a lot Doctor, I've lived under the knife for nine

months.

I've had the taste of antibiotics and anaesthetic in my mouth, and the

stink of it in my nostrils for all that time.  Now all I want is a

little escape from pain, a little peace and the taste of clean air.

Very well, the surgeon agreed readily.  It is not important that we do

it now.  You could come back at any time in the future.  He walked to

the door of the ward.  Come on. Let's go find a mirror.  There was one

in the nurses room beyond the double doors at the end of the passage.

The room itself was empty and the mirror was set into the wall above the

wash basin.

The surgeon stood in the doorway and leaned against the jamb.  He lit a

cigarette and watched as David crossed towards the mirror and then

halted abruptly as he saw his own image.

He wore the blue hospital dressing-gown over his pyjamas.  He was tall

and finely proportioned.  His shoulders were wide, his hips narrow, and

he had the same lithe and beautiful man's body.

However, the head that topped it was something from a nightmare.

Involuntarily he gasped out aloud and the gash of a mouth parted in

sympathy.  It was a tight lipless mouth, like that of a cobra,

white-rimmed and harsh.

Drawn by the awful fascination of the horror, David drew closer to the

mirror.  The thick mane of his dark hair had concealed the peculiar

elongation of his skull.

He had never realized that it jutted out behind like that, for now the

hair was gone and the bald curve was covered with meshed skin, thickened

and raised.

The skin and flesh of his face was a patchwork, joined by seams of scar

tissue drawn tightly over his cheekbones, giving him a vaguely Asiatic

appearance, but the eyes were round and startled, with clumsy lids and

puffed dead-looking flesh beneath.

His nose was a shapeless blob, out of balance with his other coarsened

features and his ears were gnarled excrescences, seemingly fastened

haphazardly to the sides of his head.  The whole of it was bland and

bald and boiled-looking.

The gash of a mouth twisted briefly in a horrid rictus, and then

regained its frozen shape.  I can't smile, said David.

No, agreed the surgeon.  You will have no control of your expressions.

That was the truly horrifying aspect of it.  It was not the twisted and

tortured flesh, with the scarring and stitch marks still so evident, it

was the expressionlessness of this mask.  The frozen features seemed

long dead, incapable of human warmth or feeling.

Yeah!  But you should have seen the other guy!  David said softly, and

the surgeon chuckled without mirth.

We'll have those last few stitches behind your ears out tomorrow, I

shall remove what remains of the pedicel from your arm, and then you can

be discharged.

Come back to us when you are ready.  David ran his hand gingerly over

the bald patterned skull.

I'm going to save a fortune in haircuts and razor blades, he said, and

the surgeon turned quickly away and walked down the passage, leaving

David to get to know his new head.

The clothes that they had found for him were cheap and ill-fitting,

slacks and open-neck shirt, a light jacket and sandals, and he asked for

some head covering, anything to conceal the weird new shape of his

scalp.

One of the nurses found him a cloth cap, and then told him that a

visitor was waiting for him in the hospital superintendent's department.

He was a major from the military provost marshal's office, a lean

grey-haired min with cold grey eyes and a tight hard mouth.  He

introduced himself without offering to shake hands and then opened the

file on the desk in front of him.

I have been instructed by my office to ask for the formal resignation of

your commission in the Israeli Air Force, he started, and David stared

at him.  In the long pain-filled, fever-hot nights, the thought of

flying once more had seemed like a prospect of paradise.

I don't understand, he mumbled, and reached for a cigarette, breaking

the first match and then puffing quickly as the second flared.  You want

my resignation - and if I refuse?  Then we shall have no alternative

other than to convene a court martial and to try you for dereliction of

duty, and refusing in the face of the enemy to obey the lawful orders of

your superior officer.  I see, David nodded heavily, and drew on the

cigarette.  The smoke stung his eyes.  It doesn't seem I have any

choice.  I have prepared the necessary documents.  Please sign here, and

here, and I shall sign as witness.  David bowed over the papers and

signed.  The pen scratched loudly in the silent room.

Thank you.  The major gathered his papers, and placed them in his

briefcase.  He nodded at David and started for the door.

So now I am an outcast, said David softly, and the man stopped.  They

stared at each other for a moment, and then the major's expression

altered slightly, and the cold grey eyes became ferocious.

You are responsible for the destruction of two warplanes that are

irreplaceable and whose loss has caused us incalculable harm.  You are

responsible for the death of a brother officer, and for bringing your

country to the very brink of open war which would have cost many

thousands more of our young people's lives, and possibly our very

existence.  You have embarrassed our international friends, and given

strength to our enemies.  He paused and drew a deep breath.  The

recommendation of my office was that you should go to trial and that the

prosecution be instructed to ask for the death penalty.

• Предыдущая
• 49/90
• Следующая