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Why had she said that? Was it something to do with her loss of memory? It had to be. With hindsight, it seemed insane. Mike had thought it was
insane at the time. He had wondered what on earth she was doing. Of course he had. So would she have done, if she d been sane.
She remembered his puzzled concern for her, his total lack of concern for himself, and shuddered miserably. If only she hadn t left him in the cellar.
She d known what that expression on Omonu s face meant, hadn t she? So why hadn t she said something, or done something? Had that been
another part of the insanity?
Had she deliberately left Mike in the cellar to die?
If only the Doctor was here. If only she could cry. But Jo knew that crying wouldn t bring Mike back.
And neither could the Doctor.
 Are there any words?
Jo looked up, saw Karilee s kind face looking down at her. A single oil lamp, taken from Epreto s house, stood on the cellar floor, beside a pile of
broken clay.
He put a hand on her shoulder.  Are there any words that should be said? From your Land?
Words, thought Jo. Words. She looked at Mike s white, dead face projecting from the top of the winding-sheet. All she could think of was  May God
have mercy on his soul , .but she supposed she should say more than that. She stared at the heap of clay for a while, made herself stand up. Then
she started to cry, uncontrollable tears streaming down her face, sobs almost choking her. Karilee touched her shoulder again, left his hand there,
giving silent comfort until the fit was over.
 He always tried to protect me, she said at last.  He tried to protect everyone. And not just because it was his duty  because...
because he wanted to. Jo stopped, unable to think of anything else to say. It seemed ridiculous, that there was so little after nearly three years of
friendship, but it was true.
 May the Dead take him, said Karilee after .a while.  The Dead? said Jo uneasily. She remembered something then: a robot.
106
A robot made of wood.
Karilee shrugged.  It s possible. The clay of the Land takes the bodies and souls of men. Maybe it takes their minds, too.
Sometimes they are said to come back.
Yes, thought Jo. Yes. That s what I want. She flung herself on the broken, clay, hammered at it with her fists. She picked up fistfuls of the wet stuff,
threw it down at the body so that it splattered over the dead face like some obscene half-mask.  Bring him back! she yelled.  Bring him back! He
was a good person!
Eventually, exhausted, she sank into the clay, willing it to be warm, willing it to be alive.
But it was only cold and dead.
After a while she stood up, muddy, bedraggled. Karilee was standing at the bottom of the steps, watching her quietly. She took a step towards him
and made a half-hearted attempt to wipe the mud off her jacket. He reached out and took her hand.
 I think I should take you to the Sky, he said.  Things are better there.
He began shovelling the broken clay into the pit, finishing the job that Jo had started.
The Doctor had decided to stand on the observation platform of the steamwing, despite Epreto s protests. He was still standing there when Epreto
pulled the control lever that would start the climb to the sun. It was dark around them: the city was already far below.
The only light came from the open door of the firebox, a dull red glow which glinted off the wooden rails and the brass-controls. The dimness of the
light, or perhaps its red quality, also had the effect of smoothing out the strange furrows .on the Doctor s face, making him look almost like a normal
man.
Epreto decided to make a last attempt at getting the Doctor out of his way.  We might meet the naieen on the way up, he said.  I d rather face that
encounter from inside the cabin.
The Doctor didn t so much as glance round, but continued to gaze silently into the mist.
 As you wish, Doctor, said Epreto eventually. He turned to check the controls.
 I know someone else who thinks like you do, said the Doctor after a while.  It s always for your own good, isn t it? The direct approach. The
simplest solution. The only difference is, Lethbridge-Stewart does care about the consequences. A pause.
 You re planning to take the live sun, aren t you? The one that still works?
Epreto hesitated, decided to avoid the main question.  Perhaps 107
your friend doesn t live in the same kind of world as I do, Doctor.
Here, only those who are intelligent, strong and virtuous are Promoted. They become naieen. The stupid, the weak and the unworthy will die.
 And you think that s the best way?
Epreto thought for a moment.  Possibly not, but how else could it be done? How else is it possible for the world to make progress?
The Doctor appeared to think about this in his turn: at any rate, he remained silent for some time. Epreto watched the controls, lit by a small lamp [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]