The Eyre Affair_ A Novel - Jasper Fforde [353]
I read the official report two years later. Forty-two guns had been trained on us from a thousand yards, and they had expended 387 rounds of high-explosive shells—about four to each vehicle. It had been like shooting fish in a barrel.
Sergeant Tozer took command and ordered me to an APC that had lost its tracks and been thrown upside down. I parked behind the wrecked carrier as Tozer and the squad jumped out to retrieve the wounded.
“But what were you really thinking about?” asked Aornis, who was beside me in the carrier, looking disdainfully at the dust and oil.
“Escape,” I said. “I was terrified. We all were.”
“Next!” yelled Tozer. “Stop talking to Aornis and take us to the next APC!”
I pulled away as another explosion went off. I saw a turret whirling through the air, a pair of legs dangling from beneath it.
I drove to the next APC, the shrapnel hitting our carrier almost continuously like hail on a tin roof. The survivors were firing impotently back with their rifles; it wasn’t looking good. The APC was filled with the wounded, and as I turned round, something hit the carrier a glancing blow. It was a dud; it had struck us obliquely and bounced off—I would see the yard-long gouge in the armor plate the following day. Within a hundred yards we were in relative safety as the dust and smoke screened our retreat; pretty soon we had passed the forward command post, where all the officers were shouting into their field telephones, and were on to the dressing areas beyond. Even though I knew this was a dream, the fear felt as real as it had on the day, and tears of frustration welled up inside me. I thought Aornis would carry on with this memory for the return run to the barrage, but there was clearly a technique behind her barbaric game. In a blink we were back on the roof at Thornfield Hall.
Acheron was looking at me with a triumphant expression and carried on where he had left off:
“It may come as some consolation that I planned to bestow upon you the honor of becoming Felix9—Who are you?”
He was looking at Aornis.
“Aornis,” she said shyly.
Acheron gave a rare smile and lowered his gun.
“Aornis?” he echoed. “Little Aornis?” She nodded and ran across to give him a hug.
“My goodness!” he said, looking her over carefully. “How you have grown! Last time I saw you, you were this high and had barely even started torturing animals. Tell me, did you follow us into the family business or did you flunk out like that loser Styx?”
“I’m a mnemonomorph!” she said proudly, eager for her sibling’s approval.
“Of course! I should have guessed. We’re in that Next woman’s memories right now, aren’t we?”
She nodded enthusiastically.
“Attagirl! Tell me, did she actually kill me? I’m only here as the memory of me in her mind, after all.”
“I’m afraid so,” said Aornis glumly. “She killed you well and good.”
“By using treachery? Did I die a Hades?”
“I’m afraid not—it was a noble victory.”
“Bitch!”
“Seconded. But I’ll have the revenge you deserve, dear brother, you can be sure of that.”
A family reunion like this should have been heartwarming, but I can’t say I was moved. Still, at least it kept us away from the Crimea.
“Mother’s very upset with you,” said Aornis, who had the Hades penchant for straight talking.
“Why?”
“Why do you think? You murdered Styx.”
“Styx was a fool and he brought shame on the Hades family.