Jack Glass: The Story of a Murderer

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Authors: Adam Roberts
Tags: Science-Fiction, Fantasy, Mystery
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nose and his left eye was swollen and sealed shut. There were many contusions, and the bruises were already showing, knuckle-shaped fairy stepping stones
across the expanse of white cheek. Jac fetched some of the new ice, made Gordius suck on a piece to try and reduce swelling inside the mouth, and scraped the worst of the blood away.
‘It’s not so bad,’ he said. ‘Though your eye is going to be swelled shut for a few days.’
    ‘Why didn’t Lwon stop it?’ Gordius sobbed, indistinctly, his mouth full of ice. ‘Marit just went on and on. Why didn’t Lwon intervene, and stop it?’
    ‘Why would he risk antagonising Marit? For you? Not worth it. On the contrary,’ said Jac. ‘He’d rather Marit blew off steam thwacking you than – you know. Attacking
him.’
    Gordius’s battered face acquired a sulky look. ‘Isn’t he supposed to be in charge? He ought to act like he is.’
    ‘I’m not sure you grasp what being in charge in this place, with these people, means,’ said Jac. ‘Anyway, I don’t think your nose is broken.’
    For some reason, this news made Gordius start to weep. ‘Here,’ said Jac, uncertainly. ‘Have some more ice.’
    ‘We’re never going to survive here, you and I!’ Gord said, through his sobs. ‘They’re picking on me now, but it’ll be you tomorrow. Every time they get a
little annoyed, they’ll take it out on us two. We’ll be beaten to death. Literally to death. And the worst thing is – there’s nothing we can do !’
    ‘We need to get off the rock,’ said Jac, looking over his shoulder.
    Behind him the sound of the drills had started up, in their respective chambers. Davide, E-d-C and Mo had resumed digging; Lwon was watching them, Marit was nursing his hand.
    ‘There’s no way off this rock,’ moaned Gordius. But he peered at Jac with his one good eye. ‘Is there?’
    ‘You tell me, god-boy,’ returned Jac.
    ‘You’re planning something. What? What will you do?’
    ‘To begin with,’ said Jac, wiping his bloodied hands on Gordius’s tunic. ‘I’m going to finish making my piece of glass.’
    ‘Is that the key to it?’ He explored his own bashed face, gingerly, with his fingers-ends, wincing. ‘ Is that it? But your window would only be the size of a hand –
maybe smaller – what good is that?’
    ‘Nothing,’ agreed Jac. ‘No good at all.’
    He was about to push off, when Gordius grabbed his elbow. ‘Take me with you.’
    Jac looked over at Marit again. Then he looked back at the big fellow.
    ‘I’ll keep it to myself!’ Gordius said. ‘I promise! I won’t tell them. And anyway, I can’t give away what you’re planning, because I don’t know what you’re planning. I just know you’re planning something . And when you do it, whatever it is. And when you,’ He coughed on the blood coming down his throat
from the inside of his nose. He gulped. ‘And when you do – take me with you. If you don’t, I’ll die here. The others, they can simply serve their time. They won’t miss
us.’
    ‘They’ll tear themselves apart,’ said Jac.
    Gordius chuckled, but it turned into another cough. ‘Look,’ he said, when he regained his breath. ‘It’s true I’m no longer a god, but my people are rich –
they pay tax at 22%! The Ulanovs classify them as a special contributory community! It would be to your profit, helping me. And – and – and anyway, to leave me behind would be
murder.’ Gordius turned his now-misshapen, bruised head from side to side. ‘What are you going to do, though? What are you planning? Why do you need a window?’
    Jac looked at him. ‘I would like,’ he said, enunciating clearly in a low voice, ‘to be able to see outside.’
    ‘You’re going to summon a ship,’ said Gordius, in an excited-little-boy voice. He put up his hand. ‘It’s OK! I won’t tell them! Globe, I don’t
even know how you’re going to do it! There are no ships out here, and a window the size of a button isn’t going to

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