"Eric Brown - The Disciples Of Apollo" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brown Eric) Caroline crying quietly to herself at the far end of the room.
On the morning of his last day, Maitland awoke before Caroline and forced himself out of bed. He dressed with difficulty, then kissed Caroline on the cheek and slipped quietly from the room so as not to wake her. He walked through the woods to the pavilion overlooking the sea. Already he was tired, as if the short walk had exhausted him, and he hoped he would be asleep when it happened. Caroline joined him not long after, as he guessed, and secretly hoped, she would. "You should go back," he told her, but he knew it was a token protest. "You still have months to live..." She ignored him; he sensed that she wanted to speak, to say something, but could not bring herself to do so without tears. Later, for the first time, she mentioned the Syndrome. "Years ago we wouldn't have known we were ill," she whispered, her breath visible in the air. "We would have... gone, suddenly, without all these months of-" And Maitland realised, then, that she was crying. "Why?" she said at last. "Why did they have to tell us?" Maitland held her, shocked at her sudden capitulation. "Modern medicine," he said. "They can diagnose it now. They know when it's going to happen. Given that knowledge, they have to inform the sufferer. Otherwise we could go at any time, anywhere, endangering others besides ourselves. There are many more of us now. The Syndrome has reached almost epidemic rather well," he said, and recalled that first Sunday weeks ago when he had wondered briefly if her vivacity had been nothing but an act. "I was so scared, the only way I could stay sane was to pretend I wasn't affected. Being seen as unafraid by others gave me strength, confidence. Can you understand that? Then I met you and found someone who wasn't afraid..." Maitland stifled a cry of despair. He convinced himself he could detect, in the frozen morning air, the odour of the resident who had died here before him. He felt grief constrict his chest, fill his throat and render him speechless. Caroline laughed. "Do you know... do you know what they call us? The Islanders? Everyone else out there? They call us the 'Disciples of Apollo'-" They held each other as the snow began to fall. Then Maitland ignited and consumed her in his flame, uniting them forever in a mutual, carbonised embrace. © Eric Brown 1989, 1997 This story appeared in Other Edens III, edited by Christopher Evans and Robert Holdstock, published by Unwin Hyman. |
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