Now the Wheel was a blur. The crowd bellowed its excitement.

There was a popping sound, soft and obscene. The Wheel rapidly slowed; the man's hands, feet and head dangled as the Wheel turned through its final revolutions.

The prisoner's stomach cavity had burst; Air-vessels dangled amid folds of flesh like fat, bloody hair-tubes. The crowd, as if awed, grew silent.

Toba, oblivious, still stared into Dura's face. "What's it to be, Dura?" he hissed.

The guards cut the Broken man down from the Wheel. The crowd, with a rising buzz of conversation, started to disperse.

—

Dura and Farr were allowed to visit Adda in his Hospital room — his ward, Dura remembered.

A huge fan turned slowly on one wall and the ward was pleasantly cool — it was almost like the open Air. The Hospital was close to the City's outer wall and the ward was connected to the outside world by only a short duct and was comparatively bright; entering it, Dura had an impression of cheerfulness, of competence.

But these initial impressions were rapidly dispelled by the sight of Adda, who was suspended at the center of the room in a maze of ropes, webbings and bandages, almost all of his battered body obscured by gauzy material. A doctor — called Deni Maxx, a round, prissy-looking woman whose belt and pockets bristled with mysterious equipment — fussed around the suspended Human Being.

Adda peered at Dura and Farr from his nest of gauze. His right upper arm, which had been broken, was coated in a mound of bandages, and his lower legs were strapped together inside a cage of splints. Someone had scraped the pus from his good eye, and applied an ointment to keep out symbiotes.

Dura, oddly, felt more squeamish about Adda's wounds now than when she had been trying to cope with them with her bare hands in the Crust-forest. She was reminded, distressingly, of the dead, displayed animals in the Museum. "You're looking well," she said.

"Lying sow," Adda growled. "What by the bones of the Xeelee am I doing here? And why haven't you got out while you can?"

The doctor clucked her tongue, tweaking a bandage. "You know why you're here." She spoke loudly, as if Adda were a deaf child. "You're here to heal."

Farr said, "Anyway, we'll be gone soon. I'm off to work in the Harbor. And Dura is going to the ceiling-farm."

Adda fixed Dura with a one-eyed, venomous stare. "You stupid bitch."

"It's done now, Adda; I won't argue about it."

"You should have let me die, rather than turn yourselves into slaves." He tried to raise gauze-wrapped arms. "What kind of life do you think I'm going to have now?"