BooksBarbecue
Back Eternity
Chapters (90)
  1. Eternity
  2. Copyright
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Contents
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. 63
  69. 64
  70. 65
  71. 66
  72. 67
  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. 71
  77. 72
  78. 73
  79. 74
  80. 75
  81. 76
  82. 77
  83. 78
  84. 79
  85. 80
  86. 81
  87. 82
  88. 83
  89. EPILOGUE
  90. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Korzenowski floated alone once again in the blister, surrounded by wheeling machines, red spheres and gray cubes. No use trying to rest now, he told himself, and returned to work.

47

Earth

Lanier struggled on the lip of a well. Every time he relaxed his hands and waited to fall, somebody held on to him. He could not die. He began to resent being saved. So long as he was alive, he was condemned to suffer the sour old-party taste in his mouth, and feel the constant disruption in his stomach and bowels. In a moment of lucidity, he tried to remember who he was and could not.

Light exploded around him. He seemed bathed in supernal glory. At the same moment, his mind itched. And he heard the first clear words in what seemed a very long time: “We’ve done all we can without reconstruction.”

He pondered those words, so familiar and yet alien.

“He wouldn’t want that.”

Karen.

“Then there’s nothing more we can do.”

“Will he become conscious again?”

“He’s conscious now, in a way. He’s probably listening to us.”

“Can he speak?”

“I don’t know. Try him.”

“Garry? Can you hear me?”

Yes why not just let me die Karen No there’s “work to do.”

“Garry? What work?”

is the Recovery over

“…recovery over…”

“Garry, you’ve been very ill. Can you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“I couldn’t just let you die. I called the Hexamon medical center in Christchurch. They’ve done all they can for now…”

He still couldn’t see, couldn’t tell whether his eyes were open or closed; the glory had faded to brown darkness.

“…don’t let them.”

“What?”

“Don’t let them.”

“Garry, you tell me what to do.”

She was speaking Chinese. She sounded very unhappy. He was making her unhappy.

“What’s reconstruction?”

Another voice interposed, speaking English. “Ser Lanier, you can’t recover fully without reconstruction. We send tiny mobile medical devices into your brain and they help repair nerve tissue.”

“No new body.”

“Your body is fine, such as it is. It’s your brain that’s damaged.”

“No privilege.”

“What’s he mean?” the voice asked somebody else. Karen responded.

“He doesn’t want any privileged medical attention.”

“Ser Lanier, this is standard procedure. You mean—” voice fading, addressing somebody else, perhaps Karen again, “—he refuses implant preservation?”

“He always has.”

“None of that involved here, Ser. Straight medicine. You haven’t refused medical help before.”

No, I haven’t. Long life.

“Although I must say, if you’d come in to Christchurch, we could have told you this was coming on. We could have prevented it.”

“Are you from orbiting bodies?” Lanier asked slowly. He opened his eyes, could feel the eyelids open, but still saw nothing.

“I was trained there, Ser. But I’m from Melbourne, born and bred. Can’t you hear the Strine?”

In fact, he could now; the thick Australian accent.