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Suit yourself.
Driver in hand, Thaxton jumped onto the shoal of solidified lava. He dashed
across it and leaped the gap, landing with a roll on the singed grass. The
soles of his shoes were smoking.
Are you okay?
Fine, no problem. Thaxton fanned his shoes, got up, and stamped his feet.
No damage.
How are you going to get back?
Same way, of course.
Hold on, now. If you fall on the solid stuff you ll get burned.
What do you suggest?
Don t quite know. Make your shot and I ll think about it.
Right.
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Thaxton found his ball and whacked it, then went to the edge of the lava
stream and scouted. He shook his head. No way. He watched Dalton, who was on
the other side of the fairway making his shot.
He heard the screech of a bird above, and looked.
Hmph. Now what.
It was an enormous black bird, and it was gliding straight for him, sharp
talons at the ready. The wingspan was staggering. The eyes seemed to have
intelligence in them. Or was it malevolence?
Thaxton pondered the question as the creature swooped.
The claws hit him and he was yanked into the air. The grip was like a vise s
but not crushing. He caught his breath and tried to pry the huge toes apart as
the ground dropped away.
Of all the rotten luck, he thought, after my only good hole!
He wriggled and squirmed and managed to get one shoulder free. He lifted a leg
and tried to kick the bird s stomach, but couldn t reach. He upended himself
and kicked at the leg instead. He connected once, missed, connected again,
thinking that he d landed a good one.
He must have; the bird let go.
Of course by this time he was a good two hundred feet off the ground.
Nine
Hospital
He woke up in a hospital bed. At least it looked like one. Wires connected him
to beeping machines and tubes ran into his veins. A single white sheet draped
him.
He looked around. The room was windowless but bright, and was otherwise
featureless, except for a slogan on the far wall.
DISCIPLINE COMES FROM WITHIN
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Castle War
Sounds pretty kinky to me, he said, trying to sit up. He was thirsty, and
there was a pitcher and a glass on a small table nearby.
While he was pouring, a young man in a white coat came in carrying a small
device with a screen. He was short and had a receding chin.
You re up!
Gene took a long drink, then sat back. Yup. What was it? Knockout gas?
What was what? the man said, punching the keyboard on his device.
Never mind. What am I doing here?
Oh, we ve taken a good look at you. Ran some tests.
I ll bet. And?
The man looked up. And?
What did you find?
Nothing much. You re in perfect health physically. Mentally, fine.
Spiritually, not so good, though.
Oh? What s wrong in that department?
You don t have InnerVoice.
I see. What s that?
A guide to right behavior. Nothing more than that.
And I don t have it.
Didn t have it. We corrected that.
Oh, good.
The man stepped to the machines and noted readings, entering them into the
device.
Is that standard procedure when you find someone without this inner voice
stuff?
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Pretty much.
I see. What did the police say about me?
Police?
I was brought here by the police, wasn t I?
No, you were referred to us by the Citizens Committee on Solidarity.
Uh-huh. Not the police.
There are no police, citizen. That s a very old-fashioned concept.
No police?
They re not needed.
Who were the guy and gal with the guns who brought me in?
Well, it sounds like you were picked up by the Citizens Committee for
Constant Struggle.
You mean the army?
More or less.
You don t need police, but you do need the army.
When the whole world has InnerVoice, then there won t be any need for
constant struggle.
Ohhh, I see. It s all so clear now.
The man smiled. It will be. Hungry?
No. Actually I have a date for lunch. So, if you ll get these tubes out of my
lymph nodes
You can t leave.
No? Is the Citizens Committee for Constant Struggle outside the door?
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The man shook his head.
Are you going to stop me?
He shook his head again.
Right.
Gene began yanking off tubes and wires.
You re not allowed to do that, the man said.
You seem like a nice enough guy, but up yours.
The white-coated man shrugged. It s useless. You have InnerVoice.
I m hearing exactly nothing, pal.
It might take a while for the systems to establish themselves.
Sorry, I can t wait.
Wincing, Gene plucked the needle-end of a tube out of his wrist and cast it
aside. Blood welled from the hole, and he stanched the bleeding with a sheet.
The flow stopped quickly enough, and he got unsteadily out of bed. He was
naked.
I suppose it wouldn t do any good to ask for my clothes.
They may be in the storage closet near the unit station.
Thanks.
Gene left the room. The hall outside looked like a conventional hospital floor
but most of the rooms were unoccupied. He saw the unit station, a glassed-in
office with monitoring instruments. Two female nurses sat inside. They looked
up in surprise when he appeared.
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