Then Boiled started to lower his arm. As if to say that his thick, sturdy arm could no longer support the weight of a single gun. He let go of the gun even before his arm was fully lowered, and it clattered across the sidewalk.
Right arm still holding the gun, Balot watched with wide eyes as Boiled disintegrated before her eyes.
Boiled’s hand clutched at his chest. She realized by his actions that there was a large hole there. And that something was flowing out of it.
His life, Balot’s heart murmured.
The PGF that had been acting as a substitute left leg disappeared. The giant figure that had once exuded such awesome pressure now crumpled to the ground in a heap. It was such a pathetic sight that it was almost comical. Before long, the wounds where his arm and leg had been severed spewed forth blood like water from a garden hose. His chest and back also overflowed with fresh blood, pumping out with an audible gurgle. Balot listened to the sound of a life pouring out, down the drain. Into the gutter. Of all the sounds that Balot had heard so far, this was the most wretched and most dreadful.
She stumbled toward Boiled to try and put an end to that awful sound.
Boiled slowly turned his head up to Balot. For a moment, she thought he was asking for her help.
But he was doing no such thing. Boiled merely gazed at Balot and said something to her. Scarcely audible.
Balot nodded. She wanted to show him that she had understood. She didn’t know what else she could do.
Boiled’s eyes moved, and he looked down at the blackness pouring out of his body.
His lips moved again. Then he closed his eyes—and Boiled moved no more.
Balot held her breath. Suddenly her right glove slipped off her hand and fell to the ground, along with the gun it had held. She heard the clang as it hit the sidewalk repeating over and over in her mind, and she felt such sorrow she was amazed she wasn’t crying. She lost all her fighting spirit the moment the gun hit the ground.
–Oeufcoque?
She snarced her bodysuit, but there was no reply. This time it really was an empty shell.
Balot scrambled to pick up the gun. The muzzle was still red-hot.
–Oeufcoque?
She called him again and again. She wanted him to tell her what she should do. Suddenly, she realized something, and she stared at the gun. It revealed something about Oeufcoque’s actions—his will—that caused her to be filled with such sorrow she thought her heart would never recover.
The gun had no trigger.
The pain that had once left Balot’s body was now returning.
05
The wound to her temple throbbed. All her muscles screamed with pain.
The pain still remained even after the emergency services had given her first aid and the effects of Boiled’s Area Device Weapon had been deactivated. Balot had taken it upon herself to feel the pain. It felt like it was the only thing she could do.
Oeufcoque remained a gun, utterly unresponsive.
Balot sat in the front passenger seat of the red convertible, cradling the gun in her lap, facing down the pain that racked her body. Without her realizing it, that rhyming ditty had somehow returned again.
–Dish, wash, brush, flush…
The fire brigade, clad in red, sprayed fire-retardant foam here and there from atop their fire engines that were themselves the color of the fires they were dispatched to put out. Residents emerged with their claims for compensation and insurance, and their details were taken down by world-weary city officials.
–Wash, crush, brush, hash…
The police had cordoned off the area and had located Shell’s body—it had been safely deposited in some landfill, and he was now being stretchered away. The media were out in force, their cameras snatching what they could before they were pushed back behind the police line.
–Bash, rush, trash, ash…
People in white uniforms were taking blood samples and collecting body parts—Shell’s fingers, Boiled’s limbs—and wrapping them up in plastic bags before hauling them away. After that, the corpse was placed in a bag. There was only one dead body. Balot watched as the heavy bag was carted away with some difficulty.
–Flash, flesh, mash, goodish…
The Doctor was nearby, speaking to the police. Among them were some of the DAs that they had met or seen at the trial. They smiled and cheered the Doctor, who thanked them and basked in their praise. He was delighted.
–Rush, josh, wish, rush…
The Doctor parted from the police and came over to Balot.
–Finish, hush!
The ditty had now finished, and the Doctor was right there to fill the gap.
“Well, looks like this will bring your case to an end. The second case will now progress from the preliminaries and on to the real thing.” The Doctor smiled gently. It was a smile of encouragement. It’s only just beginning, but we’ll get through it all right, he seemed to say. Of course, the Doctor now had a mountain of paperwork to tackle, not to mention his other tasks—his work really was just beginning. “Anyway, you’ve been through a lot of danger to get this far. It’s fair to assume that your reward will be accordingly high. As for any regrets, I should be telling you to blame Oeufcoque and me, but…”
The Doctor rested both his arms on the car door and looked down at the gun that Balot was hugging close to her.
“If you wouldn’t mind, uh, I wonder if you’d stay with Oeufcoque for a while to try and give him some comfort. The outcome of this case…well, it’s pretty close to the bone for both me and Oeufcoque, as I’m sure you can tell.”
–That person said the same thing to me, at the end.
Balot looked toward the dead body that was being carted away as she snarced the car stereo to speak.
–“Stay by Oeufcoque’s side for me,” he said.
The Doctor’s face looked surprised at this unexpected news. “Boiled said that?”
Balot nodded ever so slightly. Then she asked another question.
–Do you mind if I go for a little drive? With the car on AutoDrive? Just like when I first came here?
“Uh, aren’t you a little tired, though? You know we still have the Humpty. You could always go and lie down there…”
–No, I’ll be okay. Anyway, there’s something I need to tell Oeufcoque. Something that man said.
“Boiled said something else?”
Balot nodded again.
–“Now I can finally sleep.”
The Doctor didn’t nod. He didn’t shake his head. He just stood there silently, as if he were waiting for the words to fully sink in.
“I was involved in that experiment myself… I was one of the ones who made him so that he would never need to sleep. Never be able to sleep.”
Balot’s eyes lowered.
The Doctor shook his head. “There’s still lots to do. That is, uh, there’s a lot we need to do right now…”
–I know.
“We’re going to have to save our grieving till later.”
Balot nodded firmly. The Doctor needed someone to do that for him. The Doctor smiled, just a little, and left the scene.
≡
Balot peeled her thick bulletproof clothing away from the bodysuit she wore underneath. It thudded to the floor of the car.