'Hold on, you've got to hold on.
If nothing is real, I know how it feels, yes I do …'
J. J. Cale
7
CTRRTTC
That was close.
Yes, the dark one was working out far too much about this installation. Our concealment was almost breached. It was necessary to instil some sense of human limitations.
And you consider the garbage air-lock a fair means? You exceed your parametres!
He said he was afraid of heights. Something drastic was needed in order to deter him from too much exploration.
And what about the effect on the other one?
He is quite quick-thinking and efficient for such a primitive example of the species.
CTRRTTC
It is unnecessary to divulge further details of Jess's return to life, since both participants in the procedure in question would devoutly wish for those few minutes to be permanently hidden in the decent obscurity of history.
This is, of course, not entirely possible to accomplish as, no doubt, scan-records exist in the CTRRTTC archives and can be accessed by those who are lacking either in sufficient medical knowledge or just in imagination. Certainly, however, the redactors erased Jess's immediate reaction on regaining consciousness, not because they understood the meaning of the words he was spitting out, but because extreme profanity is recognisable without translation. Slim greeted this unappreciative response to his personal sacrifice of his dignity (and possibly his principles) with an uncharacteristic use of equally strong language, calling Jess (roughly translated into Pan-Galactic) "an ungrateful misbegotten son of a female Texan herd-dog of dubious moral habits."
At this point, recorded footage indicates that they were exhausted to such an extent by the recent crisis, its solution and their subsequent reactions, that both of them appeared to have collapsed, semi-conscious, propped up against each other and the alcove wall.
Appearances are not always a good indication of facts. Jess certainly was more or less out for the count, trying to relax his tortured ribs and wondering if his lungs would ever function normally again, with or without any extra assistance. The shock of being pulled back so abruptly from the brink of death was one he never wanted to repeat and he was uncomfortably aware that his first reaction had hardly been polite – or friendly – or thankful. After all, he had yelled for Slim to rescue him, so he had no cause to complain about his methods of doing so. It was another one of those instances where Jess profoundly wished he had the opportunity to start over again and do things differently. Maybe if he gave in to this overwhelming urge to sleep and woke up again … he shifted with great difficulty and tried to prop himself up somehow against the wall, but it proved too much for him. His whole upper body was painfully determined to remain horizontal and to avoid the stress of having to support itself. He slid back down and, finding his head comfortably resting against someone else's ribs, abandoned any attempt to stay awake and sort out his feelings. His eyes closed and his breathing slowed.
Slim opened his eyes relatively quickly, that realising someone needed to keep watch and Jess was in no state to do anything of the kind. This was by far the most bizarre of the near death experiences from which he had had to rescue his reckless companion. The consequences were pretty confusing too. It was just typical of Jess's contradictory nature - incandescent with fury and threatening to tear you limb from limb one moment and casually using you as the nearest convenient pillow the next.
Now he was sleeping peacefully, completely trusting in Slim's protection. His face had lost the hectic flush of anger and chagrin which had swept over it at his resuscitation. He was still pale under his tan and somehow looked much more vulnerable than he had when he was actually in danger of dying. Looking down at him, Slim was acutely conscious of the vivid physical presence so nearly snuffed out like a candle in the wind. Jess's hair was seriously dishevelled and one lock flopped predictably across his forehead. Sleep ironed out the tension which had hardened the lean planes of his face when wrestling with the problems of the morning and, as always, showed how young he really was. As well as the cut and bruised cheekbone from his fall in the yard, a bright trickle of fresh blood ran from his bottom lip where he had bitten it to keep back the scream that would have wasted his last vestiges of breath.
Slim shifted cautiously so as not to disturb him and extracted his clean handkerchief from his pocket. If this didn't count as "something worse later on", he didn't know what did. Even more cautiously and gently, in the same way he would have mopped up a much younger brother, he began to wipe the blood from the sleeper's mouth and clean the trail which was tricking down over the angular plane of his jaw and beginning to collect in the hollow of his throat. If a split lip was the worst that Jess was going to take away from this experience, he was one very lucky Texan – but then, he always did have the devil's own luck at getting out of situations he had no business surviving. It did not occur to Slim's generous nature to take credit for his own contribution to this phenomenon.
The touch of the handkerchief obviously tickled, because Jess muttered protestingly and tried to turn his head away, before sighing and burrowing even further into this comfortable rest. "Wake me up when it's all over …" Slim smoothed the hair back from his forehead, wondering anxiously if this uncharacteristic relaxation was the result of concussion, but found no evidence any damage to one very hard skull. So he contented himself with providing a supporting hand for the sleeping head. Inaction after stress caused his own to begin to nod all too quickly.
Actually, even accustomed as they both were to sleeping on the ground, they soon found that the corridor floor beat a rock-face for hardness and was not really conducive to prolonged slumber. Not long after, Slim found himself looking down into a pair of blue eyes now darkened by an expression which was full of penitence and a deep, thankful appreciation. It was clear that Jess regretted his initial response and intended to make up for it.
"No I don't," Slim told him softly before Jess could utter a word of whatever he was obviously preparing to say.
"Don't what?"
"Don't get tired of hauling you out of scrapes. Think how boring my life was before you came along with your talent for close encounters with the Grim Reaper!"
"And because of you, I'm still alive," Jess's tone was even lower and more gravely than usual. He rolled over on to his knees and gripped Slim's shoulders in a fierce hold. "I owe you!"
"No you don't."
"Yes I do. "There was no doubting the sincerity of this declaration. Then a mischievous grin suddenly transformed Jess's face. "And if you ever pull that trick again without a beautiful female assistant standin' by to do it for you, so help me, you know exactly what I'll do to you!"
"I'll bear that in mind," Slim assured him gravely. "Provided, of course, you give me your absolute word it will never, ever happen again. Otherwise, you'll just take what's coming to you!"
"You reckon?" Jess realised he was losing this one and abandoned the subject with a shrug of dismissal. He got gingerly to his feet, pushing off the wall as if daring Slim to help him. Then he looked back, for the first time, at the door. "Did you see that? See what was out there?"
"Yes. And, if you don't mind, I think I'd like hold on for the next part of this conversation until we're somewhere much further away from it."
CTRRTTC
I had forgotten that these creatures also need to breathe.
As has been amply demonstrated. Be more careful next time.
Every test must involve risk if anything of value is to be demonstrated.
In this case, the value of the care which has been demonstrated appears to outweigh the danger to life.
CTRRTTC
They strolled back through the hole in the wall, the general store and the repetitive street, ending up yet again at the town square. For want of a better place, they went back to the lean-to cantina and sat down at the table. Slim regarded the still empty wine jar with disgust. Jess was busy rolling himself a cigarette.
"Are you sure filling your lungs with smoke is a good idea after what just happened?" Having recently restored these organs to healthy functioning, Slim took a keen interest in keeping them that way and, besides, his instinct to look after everyone, however maddening, was still operating over-time.
Jess gave him a long look, before saying, with just a hint of that lop-sided smile of his, "I prefer it to some other options." He bent his head and struck a match. It promptly went out.
Five dud matches later Jess was showing marked signs of nicotine deprivation. Added to lack of caffeine and any form of sustenance, this did not auger well. He got up and looked around. Obviously coming to a decision, he walked out into the square and addressed his next remark to the bell tower.
"If I don't get a smoke right now, I'm comin' up there to start pullin' wires out of things – includin' you!"
Whether or not he could actually have carried out this threat was never to be revealed, since his next attempt at lighting up was entirely successful. He sat down, tilted his chair back and put his feet on the low wall which formed the front of the cantina. A cloud of aromatic blue smoke drifted in the direction of the bell tower. Jess looked as if he was enjoying that cigarette and the implied triumph very much indeed.
"They're nearly double your size," Slim reminded him. "Clawed hands, too."
"There wasn't room for even one critter that size in that room," Jess stated, "and I don't recall bumpin' into him."
"No – but there was something, wasn't there?"
"Two somethings, unless I'm very much mistaken!" Jess's eyes gleamed with sardonic amusement. "Very keen to get out of your way, they were."
"You spotted their camouflage too?"
"Yeah. Like I said, little critters with big hands. Or possibly little machines? And they obviously don't think much of our tracking. Dust everywhere - and handprints, but no footmarks. Of course, they might be floatin'."
"Unlikely, I'd say." Slim said, adding: "It was the position of the spider's web which really gave it away."
"Shows they don't know much about livin' things." Jess's expression had darkened and it was clear that the death of the bird still rankled.
"And judging by the mixture of unrelated backgrounds, they're probably not very much in control either." Slim suggested.
"Good!" Jess retorted. "I'm sick of jumpin' through hoops for them. This is some kind of game - the kind of game Carlin would find amusin'."
Slim rubbed his jaw reminiscently, recalling a punch whose power had been quite unexpected from the light-weight he thought was facing him. "Yeah, I knew it reminded me of something."
"Only Carlin couldn't mess with your mind or your memory!"
"So what next?"
"Nothin'!"
Slim looked at him enquiringly and Jess amplified: "I ain't doin' anything or goin' anywhere just because someone's tryin' to make me!"
No surprises there, then, Slim thought, recalling numerous instances in the past when Jess's stubbornness had wreaked havoc with the best-laid plans designed to persuade, deceive or coerce him. "So we just sit here?"
"Yep. Let them work out what to do next. If we don't move, they'll have to do something!"
