‘Good-bye, Iorr, good-bye, Tylle!’ he shouted in triumph, grinning, eyes hot.
Eeeeeee, sang a diminishing roar in time.
Ahhhhhhhh, voices faded.
The rocket flipped wide its airlock. Two men jumped out.
‘Sale?’ they called. ‘We’re Ship ACDN13. Intercepted your SOS and decided to pick you up ourselves. The Marsport ship won’t get through until day after tomorrow. We want a spot of rest ourselves. Thought it’d be good to spend the night here, pick you up, and go on.’
‘No,’ said Sale, face melting with terror. ‘No spend night –’
He couldn’t talk. He fell to the ground.
‘Quick!’ said a voice, in the bleary vortex over him. ‘Give him a shot of food liquid, another of sedative. He needs sustenance and rest.’
‘No rest!’ screamed Sale.
‘Delirious,’ said one man, softly.
‘No sleep!’ screamed Sale.
‘There, there,’ said the man gently. A needle poked into Sale’s arm.
Sale thrashed. ‘No sleep, go!’ he mouthed horribly. ‘Oh, go!’
‘Delirious,’ said one man. ‘Shock.’
‘No sedatives!’ screamed Sale.
The sedative flowed into him.
Eeeeeeeee, sang the ancient winds.
Ahhhhhhhhhh, sang the ancient seas.
‘No sedative, no sleep, please, don’t, don’t, don’t!’ screamed Sale, trying to get up. ‘You – don’t understand!’
‘Take it easy, old man, you’re safe among us now, nothing to worry about,’ said the rescuer above him.
Leonard Sale slept. The two men stood over him.
As they watched, Sale’s features changed violently. He groaned and cried and snarled in his sleep. His face was riven with emotion. It was the face of a saint, a sinner, a fiend, a monster, a darkness, a light, one, many, an army, a vacuum, all all!
He writhed in his sleep.
Eeeeeeeee! the sound burst from his mouth. Ahhhhhhhhhh! he screamed.
‘What’s wrong with him?’ asked one of the two rescuers.
‘I don’t know. More sedatives?’
‘More sedatives. Nerves. He needs more sleep.’
They stuck the needle in his arm. Sale writhed and spat and moaned.
Then, suddenly, he was dead.
He lay there, the two men over him. ‘What a shame,’ said one of them. ‘Can you figure that?’