Ray Aldridge
EYEBRIGHT
Kemrin Animoht walked down Motomachi Street. He wasn’t really there.
He dodged the outstretched claws of a legless beggar, veered around a; puddle of vomit, hopped nimbly over a maggoty pile of something unidentifiable — but he didn’t really see any of Howlytown’s ugly sights. His mind was full of the dream episode he would record later that morning at Singh Louie’s studio. Already he could feel the cool embrace of the dream harness, could feel the dream pouring out of his head into the recorder.
That s why he didn’t notice the eyegougers sneaking up behind him.
He thought: Prince Velligon would escape from the dungeons under SilverGilt Keep, with the connivance of beautiful raven-haired Sualn. Yes, yes, and then: Velligon would gather his few faithful retainers for a desperate assault on the Iron Fortress of his evil brother, the Pretender Jam.
Kemrin laughed. With any luck, the battle would surge back and forth, neither side gaining decisive advantage — enough to keep Velligon’s fans happy for at least two or three more dream episodes — before Jam would go down to his inevitable, if temporary defeat. And Velligon would get to spend another hot night with delicious Sualn. Yes, that should please the fans, those quiet folk who lived safe lives within the Pale. They would taste the simpleminded adventures Kemrin imagined for them, and never notice the empty years sipping past.
Its a living, he thought, just before eyegougers pounced on him.
Two big ones grabbed his arms and hustled him into a nearby alley. Kemrin hung suspended in their grip, at first more surprised than alarmed.
«Hey,» he said.
«Shut it,» said the one on the right, a bullnecked, swarthy fellow.Twists of rainbow foil decorated his long red braids.
The man on the left was very tall and very thin. His shaven skull glowed with tattoos, a pattern of big red peonies and little green frogs. His huge knobby hands bit painfully into Kemrin’s arms.
«Hey, ease up,» Kemrin said.
Rainbow released his arm just long enough to thwack the back of Kemrin’s head. Spots danced in Kemrin’s vision.
«Better shut it,» Peonies advised, in high breathless tones.
They went deeper into the alley, finally turning into a dark cul-de-sac. The two heavies threw Kemrin sprawling forward onto his face. He slid through something slimy, to the feet of the largest, palest man he had ever seen.
The man made a sound of displeasure. «He’d better not have any of that muck on his eyes,» the man said, in a mad trembling voice.
«Sorry, boss,» the two heavies said in unison. «Habit,» said Rainbow. «Yeah,» added Peonies. They picked Kemrin up, set him on his feet, brushed the slime from his face.
«One eye’s clean, anyway,» said Peonies.
Kemrin looked up into the man’s face, a vast expanse of puffy white flesh, bisected vertically by narrow pink and lavender beauty stripes. The albino wore his colorless hair in an enormous dredlock tangle. His one good eye had a pink iris; the sclera was stained mauve. An old-fashioned black eye patch covered the other eye. On the patch a holographic eye drawn in hot neon colors winked frantically.
Kemrin couldn’t decide where to look, so he looked at the huge man’s companions. To the right was a statuesque blonde woman, wearing a silver mesh mask and a T-shirt that said Kiss My Razor. To the left was a conservatively dressed young woman with long black hair and an oddly innocent face. Her eyes were large; she did not seem to be enjoying herself.
«Let’s do him,» said the blonde, in a hoarse scratchy voice. «The stink in here is making me dizzy.»
«Let us introduce ourselves,» the huge man said, as if she had not spoken. «You, of course; are Kemrin Animoht, the noted dreamer. I am Asmo Bluedog. Perhaps you’ve heard my name?»
Kemrin tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. «Yes, sir,» he croaked. He’d always thought Asmo Bluedog was a legend, not a real man. Certainly not such a large, ugly, frightening man.
Asmo Bluedog beamed, exposing a mouthful of small pearly teeth. «Ah? Well, that’s pleasant. You’re a polite lad. But I need your eye.»
«What?» Kemrin was confused by the speed of events. «What do you mean?»
«I need to get past Singh Louie’s scanner» Bluedog seemed to lose interest in the conversation. He turned away, flapping a bloated hand at his henchmen. «Go ahead,» Bluedog said. «Time’s a-wasting.»
From her tasteful nearleather purse, the dark-haired young woman produced a spray can of coagulant. Kemrin thought he saw tears trembling on her long lashes, just before the two henchmen flung him on his back.
Rainbow arranged his bulk on Kemrin’s chest, pinning Kemrin’s arms with his knees. From his shirt, Peonies produced a shiny metal instrument, a thing like ice tongs with fangs. The gripping surfaces were articulated so that they curved inward as the device closed. The cutting edges threw a keen glitter. Peonies flexed the instrument once, and it made a series of tiny snicking sounds as the jaws came together.
When Kemrin opened his mouth to scream, Rainbow stuffed in a handful of garbage. Kemrin choked. Rainbow gripped his head, Peonies pried open his left eye, and the gouger descended.
Pain burst in his head, pain unimaginable. Half the world went dark. Peonies jerked out the gouger with a wet tearing sound and a grunt of satisfaction. Kemrin’s remaining vision grew dim, but he saw Peonies inject a stabilizer into the eyeball and offer it to Bluedog, who flipped up his eye patch and pushed the bloody object into the empty orbit.
Kemrin’s brown eye contrasted oddly with Bluedog’s own. A trickle of blood escaped from the socket and dripped down one white cheek.
Kemrin coughed out filth. «Bastard,» he said weakly.
Bluedog drew back, scandalized. «Rude boy!» In an instant the vast face became a demon’s. «I know you,» Bluedog hissed in a thin malevolent voice. «Rich little prig, come down to Howlytown to rub elbows with the romantic rejects, gather a little local color, hope that a little real will stick to you. How’s this for real? How’s this for local color? Eh, boy?» Bluedog’s face was a red cloud, the good eye burned crazily; Kemrin’s stolen eye looked down and away, uninterested.
Bluedog turned his back. «I should kill you!» He jerked back, looked down at Kemrin for the last time. «But I won’t» He smiled and the mad face was placid again. «I'll need the other eye soon enough. Come, all. We have business elsewhere.»
They left. The blonde woman gave Kemrin a spiteful little kick as she stepped over him. The last to go was the dark-haired woman. She knelt beside him for a moment, and squirted coagulant into his injury. With her long fingers she raked most of the garbage from his mouth. «Sorry, sorry…» she whispered so the others couldn’t hear.
Naturally, no one came to his aid. He eventually got to his feet, swaying unsteadily. Crusted with blood and garbage, he shambled through the streets of Howlytown, and everyone left him alone. He reached the Palegate safely; he stumbled up to the retinal scanner and pressed his remaining eye to the sensor.
When the gate slid aside, he stepped through into the Pale, and safety.
Bodrun Depultimar, his agent, came to see Kemrin in the hospital. Bodrun settled his short plump body comfortably on the bed and regarded (пропущен текст)
«So, it came to this, Kemrin? Did I warn you? Tell me I didn’t warn you.» Bodrun leaned forward, tapping Kemrin’s leg for emphasis. «You know what your trouble was?»
«No, but you’ll tell me, won’t you?»
«Hey. You’re pretty smart for a one-eyed guy. You never believed those people down there were real. You thought they were like dream people; you thought if they got too heavy all you’d have to do was jack out. What ever made you think you could walk around Howlytown, pretending you belong there? Kemrin, I said, they’ll cut your throat and steal your shoes.»