nibbling
range. I really wanted to appreciate those. In other circumstances,
I would have devoted hours to those legs. But a guy does have to
keep some perspective.
Things were not going well. This sort of thing was not a
normal part of my life. I tried to shove the pain away long enough
to think.
Aha! They had me wrapped in a wet blanket. I didn’t want
to poop somebody’s party, but that didn’t make me
happy. I roared and twisted and flopped and wriggled and bellowed.
I failed to make any impression. I did get a gander at what went
with the gorgeous gams. The wealth was piled on all the way to the
top. I could have fallen in love. But this was not the time or
place. Beside a fire, maybe on a bearskin rug, maybe just her and
me and some TunFaire Gold wine . . .
I didn’t like the looks of the guys. They weren’t
the brunos I danced with earlier. Those had been standard lowlife,
out for the price of a drink. These clowns wore dirty, ragged
uniforms.
That failed to cheer me up.
They were unreasonable. They wouldn’t answer questions.
Nobody responded at all, except Miss Legs. She just seemed sad. I
hollered and flopped some more. They kept on lugging me down a long
hall.
Long hall, huh? And what was that smell?
Everybody stopped but me. I thrashed some more. I was serious
about it now. I knew where I was. This was the crazy floor of the
Bledsoe, the imperial charity hospital.
The empire is long gone, but its works and the imperial family
linger, the latter hoping for a recall. They sustain the hospital,
which serves the indigent poorly.
The cackle factory is a bad place. They stick you in there you
could be gone forever. Wouldn’t matter that somebody made a
mistake.
“Hey! Put me down! What the hell is this? What am I doing
in here? Do I look like I’m crazy?”
That was the wrong question. I had to look like a prime
specimen. And the way things work, they would assume that they
wouldn’t have me if I didn’t belong.
Man, this was the dirtiest trick anybody ever played on me.
A door crashed open. It was oak and iron and about nine inches
thick. I glimpsed my destiny.
One of my guides bellowed. Somebody scuttled away. The boys
tossed me through the doorway without missing the frame. I landed
hard. The Legs gazed at me pityingly. The door closed before I
convinced her this was all a horrible mistake.
I unwrapped myself by rolling around, stumbled over and wasted
energy pounding on the door. I exercised the full range of
situationally specialized vocabulary, but without the enthusiasm I
might have managed had my head not hurt so much. You do these
things even when you’re wasting your time. The rituals must
be observed.
I heard noises behind me. I spun around.
At least a dozen men stood staring at me. I checked the ward
beyond them. There were lots more men back there. Plenty were
wondering about the new guy. Some studied my outfit. Plainly, there
had been no general clothing issued in years. Nor had anyone taken
a bath during the modern era. Here was the source of the odor
I’d caught in the hall. A glance told me the welcoming
committee all belonged inside. It was obvious in their eyes.
I pounded and yelled some more. Service did not improve.
At least they hadn’t dumped me into the violent ward.
Maybe I stood a chance.
An old character who looked like he weighed about fifty pounds
stumbled toward me. “How are you doing? I’m
Ivy.”
“I was doing great till about five minutes ago,
Ivy.”
“How are you doing? I’m Ivy.”
“He don’t say nothing else, Ace.”
Right. I’m a quick study. Ivy never even looked at me.
“Gotcha.”
A guy about nine feet tall guffawed. “You don’t pay
Ivy no nevermind, boy. He’s crazy.”
“How are you doing? I’m Ivy.”
This was the tip of the iceberg. The part that would be easy. It
was sure to get weird.
After thinking a while, somebody yelled at the big guy,
“You got so much room to talk, muddlebrain?”
“Yeah? What do you
range. I really wanted to appreciate those. In other circumstances,
I would have devoted hours to those legs. But a guy does have to
keep some perspective.
Things were not going well. This sort of thing was not a
normal part of my life. I tried to shove the pain away long enough
to think.
Aha! They had me wrapped in a wet blanket. I didn’t want
to poop somebody’s party, but that didn’t make me
happy. I roared and twisted and flopped and wriggled and bellowed.
I failed to make any impression. I did get a gander at what went
with the gorgeous gams. The wealth was piled on all the way to the
top. I could have fallen in love. But this was not the time or
place. Beside a fire, maybe on a bearskin rug, maybe just her and
me and some TunFaire Gold wine . . .
I didn’t like the looks of the guys. They weren’t
the brunos I danced with earlier. Those had been standard lowlife,
out for the price of a drink. These clowns wore dirty, ragged
uniforms.
That failed to cheer me up.
They were unreasonable. They wouldn’t answer questions.
Nobody responded at all, except Miss Legs. She just seemed sad. I
hollered and flopped some more. They kept on lugging me down a long
hall.
Long hall, huh? And what was that smell?
Everybody stopped but me. I thrashed some more. I was serious
about it now. I knew where I was. This was the crazy floor of the
Bledsoe, the imperial charity hospital.
The empire is long gone, but its works and the imperial family
linger, the latter hoping for a recall. They sustain the hospital,
which serves the indigent poorly.
The cackle factory is a bad place. They stick you in there you
could be gone forever. Wouldn’t matter that somebody made a
mistake.
“Hey! Put me down! What the hell is this? What am I doing
in here? Do I look like I’m crazy?”
That was the wrong question. I had to look like a prime
specimen. And the way things work, they would assume that they
wouldn’t have me if I didn’t belong.
Man, this was the dirtiest trick anybody ever played on me.
A door crashed open. It was oak and iron and about nine inches
thick. I glimpsed my destiny.
One of my guides bellowed. Somebody scuttled away. The boys
tossed me through the doorway without missing the frame. I landed
hard. The Legs gazed at me pityingly. The door closed before I
convinced her this was all a horrible mistake.
I unwrapped myself by rolling around, stumbled over and wasted
energy pounding on the door. I exercised the full range of
situationally specialized vocabulary, but without the enthusiasm I
might have managed had my head not hurt so much. You do these
things even when you’re wasting your time. The rituals must
be observed.
I heard noises behind me. I spun around.
At least a dozen men stood staring at me. I checked the ward
beyond them. There were lots more men back there. Plenty were
wondering about the new guy. Some studied my outfit. Plainly, there
had been no general clothing issued in years. Nor had anyone taken
a bath during the modern era. Here was the source of the odor
I’d caught in the hall. A glance told me the welcoming
committee all belonged inside. It was obvious in their eyes.
I pounded and yelled some more. Service did not improve.
At least they hadn’t dumped me into the violent ward.
Maybe I stood a chance.
An old character who looked like he weighed about fifty pounds
stumbled toward me. “How are you doing? I’m
Ivy.”
“I was doing great till about five minutes ago,
Ivy.”
“How are you doing? I’m Ivy.”
“He don’t say nothing else, Ace.”
Right. I’m a quick study. Ivy never even looked at me.
“Gotcha.”
A guy about nine feet tall guffawed. “You don’t pay
Ivy no nevermind, boy. He’s crazy.”
“How are you doing? I’m Ivy.”
This was the tip of the iceberg. The part that would be easy. It
was sure to get weird.
After thinking a while, somebody yelled at the big guy,
“You got so much room to talk, muddlebrain?”
“Yeah? What do you
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