Fantasy fiction; Science fiction; Subconsciousness -- Fiction
Marc looked at her through heavy lids. "That's silly," he murmured.
"Just go 'way and let me die in peace."
Unmindful, Toffee leaped lightly to the floor, stood back and aimed the
gadget at Marc. "All set?" she said.
"Here!" the attendant said, suddenly recovering the faculty of speech.
"What are you doing?"
"Advancing medical science a mile a minute," Toffee said. "Don't
interrupt."
"But...!"
* * * * *
Toffee placed her hand menacingly on her hip and fixed the young man
with a steely eye. "Am I going to have to deal with you?" she asked,
"Or are you going to button your lip like a good child?"
The orderly spoke no further.
Toffee raised the cylinder, sighting the length of Marc's lean,
sheet-covered body. Then she pressed the switch.
The orderly stared, wide-eyed, and repeated his bird imitation. The
place where Marc had lain was suddenly as bare as a banquet board after
the feast. Where a moment before there had been a long thin man, now
there was only a long, thin sheet.
"Hey!" the orderly bleated. "Ho!"
"So long, phrasemaker," Toffee said, and tucking the cylinder under
her arm, moved off quickly down the hall and around the corner.
It was just as the orderly observed the last flirt of Toffee's hip that
the doctor appeared from the door of the operating room and looked
distractedly in his direction.
"Good grief, man!" he said, "haven't you brought Pillsworth with you?"
The orderly started nervously and looked around.
"He ... he ... he...!" he gibbered. "That is, she ... she...!" He
pointed in hopeless confusion down the hall.
"What are you babbling about?" the doctor enquired shortly. "Where is
Pillsworth?"
"He.... He's gone, sir!" the attendant blurted.
"Gone?" the doctor said. "Where did he go?"
The orderly looked away down the hall. "There was this girl, see ...
she had red hair and a can...."
"Now, just a minute, orderly," the doctor said measuredly. "If you
think you can distract me with the depressing details of your sex
life...."
"But you don't understand! She was holding this thing ... and she told
me to shut up ... and then Mr. Pillsworth wasn't there any more. That's
the truth!"
"Let me impress it upon you," the doctor said, "that this is a very
serious incident. I can't imagine how a half-dead patient managed to
get away from you, but you'll find him instantly and deliver him to
surgery if you know what's good for you. Meanwhile, I'll have the alarm
sent out to all the wards and offices. I hope you realize that your
carelessness has undoubtedly cost the patient his last chance for life.
Without the slightest doubt I can pronounce Marc Pillsworth dead right
now."
As the doctor spoke these last words, a small gust of wind--or at least
what could easily have passed for a small gust of wind--eddied around
the corner at the end of the hall. It was this slight disturbance which
marked the arrival of George on Earth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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