Eagle in the Sky - Smith Wilbur. Страница 49
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.