cc.iceberg-第42部分

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conds。
　
　Rondheim　scored　with　a　roundhouse　kick　to　the　head　that　rammed　Pitt　full　in　the　face；　knocking　him　off　the　mat　against　a　row　of　horizontal　exercise　bars　set　into　the　wall。　Pitt　lay　on　the　floor　in　silence；　tasting　the　blood　from　his　crushed　lips　and　feeling　his　loosened　teeth。
　〃e；　e；　Major。〃　Rondheim　spoke　soothingly；　tauntingly。　〃Up　on　your　feet。　The　lesson's　barely　begun。〃
　
　Pitt　pushed　himself　groggily　to　his　feet　and　stumbled　drunkenly　onto　the　mat。　The　urge　to　counterpunch　Rondheim　was　stronger　than　ever　now；　but　he　knew　his　only　course　was　to　play　out　his　role。
　
　Rondheim　lost　no　time　in　working　on　him　again。　A　quick　bination　of　sledgehammer　blows　to　the　head　that　never　seemed　to　end；　followed　by　a　front　kick　to　the　exposed　rib　area；　and　Pitt　felt　rather　than　heard　one　of　his　ribs　snap。　As　if　in　slow　motion；　Pitt　sunk　to　his　knees　and　slowly　slumped　forward　onto　his　face；　so　badly　injured　that　blood　and　vomit　mingled　freely　in　his　mouth　and　flowed　onto　the　mat　in　an　ever…widening　pool。　He　didn't　need　a　mirror　to　know　he　was　being　worked　over　fearfully；　his　face　distorted　in　grotesque　mutilation；　both　eyes　rapidly　closing；　lips　ballooned　in　a　purplish　mass　of　torn　meat；　one　nostril　of　his　nose　split　open。
　
　The　daggerlike　pain　in　his　chest　and　the　agony　of　his　torn　face　rose　in　giant　waves　and　pounded　him　to　the　verge　of　blackness；　yet　he　was　surprised　to　find　his　mind　was　still　functioning　normally。　Instead　of　allowing　the　painless　oblivion　of　unconsciousness　to　swoop　in；　he　willed　himself　to　fake　it；　setting　his　teeth　against　a　groan　that　would　have　given　his　deception　away。
　
　Rondheim　was　infuriated。　〃I'm　not　through　with　this　slimy　faggot。〃　He　motioned　to　one　of　the　guards。
　〃Revive　him。〃
　
　The　one　with　the　bald　head　walked　to　a　nearby　bathroom；　soaked　a　towel　and　none　too　gently　wiped　the　blood　from　Pitts　face　and　then　pressed　the　now　reddened　cloth　behind　his　neck。　When　Pitt　didn't　respond；　the　guard　left　again　and　returned　with　a　small　vial　of　smellin；…；　salts。
　
　Pitt　coughed　once；　twice；　then　spit　a　gob　of　blood　on　the　guard's　boot；　taking　grim　satisfaction　that　it　was　no　accident。　He　rolled　over　onto　his　side　and　looked　up　at　Rondheim　looming　over　him。
　
　Rondheim　laughed　softly。　〃You　seem　to　have　difficulty　staying　awake　in　class；　Major。　Perhaps　you　are　being　bored。〃　His　voice　suddenly　chilled。　〃Stand　up！　You　have　yet　to　finish　your…ah…course　of　instruction。〃
　〃Course？　Instruction？〃　Pitts　words　came　blurred；　semi…intelligibly　through　his　bloated；　broken　lips。　〃I　don't　get　what　you　mean…〃　Rondheim　answered　by　lifting　his　heel　and　jamming　it　in　Pitts　groin。　Pitts　whole　body　shuddered　and　he　groaned；　the　agony　tearing　him　apart。
　
　Rondheim　spat　on　him。　〃I　said　stand　up！〃
　〃I　。　I　can't。〃
　
　And　then　Rondheim　leaned　down　and　struck　Pitt　with　a　shuto　blow　to　the　back　of　the　neck。　There　was　no　fighting　it；　no　faking　it　this　time：　Pitt　blacked　out　for　real。
　〃Bring　him　around　again！〃　Rondheim　yelled　insanely。　〃I　want　him　on　his　feet。〃
　
　The　guards　stared　unprehendingly；　even　they　were　beginning　to　tire　of　Rondheim's　bloody　game。　But　they　had　little　choice　except　to　work　over　Pitt　like　a　couple　of　trainers　over　a　punchdrunk　boxer　until　he　emitted　the　barest　signs　of　consciousness。　It　didn't　take　a　medical　specialist　to　determine　that　Pitt　could　have　never　stood　unaided。　So　the　guards；　each　with　one　arm；　held　Pitt　up；　his　body　sagging　between　them　with　the　dead　weight　of　a　wet　bag　of　Portland　cement。
　
　Rondheim　pounded　the　defenseless　battered　body　until　his　gi　was　soaked　through　with　sweat；　the　front　splotched　with　blood。
　
　Pitt；　in　those　tortured　moments　between　light　and　darkness；　found　himself　losing　his　grip　of　any　emotion；　of　all　intelligence；　even　the　pain　was　beginning　to　fade　into　one　massive　dull　throb。　Thank　God　for　the　brandy；　he　thought。　He'd　never　have　been　able　to　survive　up　to　this　point；　taking　so　much　brutality　from　Rondheim's　hands　without　reacting；　if　it　hadn't　been　for　the　alcohol's　numbing　effects。　Now　he　didn't　need　it。　His　physical　resources　were　nearly　gone；　his　mind　was　slipping　from　control；　losing　contact　with　reality；　and　the　most　terrible　part　was　that　he　could　do　nothing　about　it。
　
　Rondheim　threw　a　particularly　vicious　and　accurately　aimed　kick　to　Pitts　stomach。　As　the　light　passed　from　Pitts　eyes　for　the　sixth　time　and　the　guards　released　their　grip；　letting　his　limp　body　drop　to　the　mat；　the　sadistic　lust　on　Rondheim's　face　slowly　faded。　He　stared　vacantly　at　his　bloody　and　swollen　knuckles；　his　chest　heaving　as　his　breath　came　in　quick　pants　from　the　exertion。　He　dropped　to　his　knees；　grabbed　Pitt　by　the　hair；　turning　the　head　so　that　the　throat　was　exposed；　and　then　he　lifted　his　right　hand；　palm　open；　in　preparation　to　deliver　the　finishing　stroke；　the　coup　de　grdce；　a　killing　judo　chop　that　would　snap　Pitts　head　backward；　breaking　his　neck。
　〃No！〃
　
　Rondheim　kept　the　hand　poised；　and　slowly　turned。　Kirsti　Fyrie　stood　in　the　doorway；　a　look　of　fear　and　horror　on　her　face。　〃No；〃　she　said；　〃please　。　。　。　no！　You　can't！〃
　
　Rondheim　kept　the　hand　poised。　〃What　does　he　mean　to　you？〃
　〃Nothing；　but　he　is　a　human　being　and　deserves　better。　You　are　cruel　and　ruthless；　Oskar。　Not　altogether　unbeing　qualities　in　a　man。　But　they　should　be　tempered　with　courage。　Beating　a　defenseless　and　half…dead　man　is　little　different　from　torturing　a　helpless　child。　There　is　no　courage　in　that。　You　disappoint　me。〃
　
　Rondheim's　hand　slowly　dropped。　He　rose；　swaying　tiredly；　and　staggered　to　Kirsti。　Tearing　the　clothing　from　the　upper　part　of　her　body；　he　slapped　her　viciously　across　the　breasts。　〃You　warped　whore；　9　he　grasped。　〃I　warned　you　never　to　interfere。　You　who　have　no　right　to　criticize　me　or　anyone　else。　It's　easy　for　you　to　sit　by　on　your　pretty　ass　and　watch　while　I　do　the　dirty　work。〃
　
　She　lifted　a　hand　to　strike　him；　her　beautiful　features　contorted　in　hatred　and　anger。　He　caught　her　wrist　and　held　it；　twisting　until　she　uttered　a　cry。
　〃The　basic　difference　between　a　man　and　a　woman；　my　dove；　is　physical　strength。〃　He　laughed　at　her　helplessness。　〃You　seem　to　have　forgotten　that。〃
　
　Rondheim　roughly　pushed　her　out　the　door　and　turned　to　the　guards。　〃Throw　that　queer　bastard　in　with　the　others；〃　he　ordered。　〃if　he　is　fortunate　and　opens　his　eyes　once　more；　he　can　have　the　satisfaction　of　knowing　he　died　among　friends。〃
　
　Chapter　16
　
　Somewhere　in　the　black　pit　of　unconsciousness　Pitt　began　to　see　light。　It　was　vague；　dim　like　the　bulb　of　a　flashlight　whose　batteries　were　gasping　out　their　last　breath　of　energy。　He　struggled　toward　it。　Desperately　he　reached　out；　once；　twice；　making　several　agonizing　attempts　to　touch　the　yellow　glow　he　knew　was　his　window　to　the　conscious　world　outside　his　mind。　But　each　time　he　thought　it　was　within　his　grasp；　it　moved　further　away　and　he　knew　he　was　slipping　backward　into　the　void　of　nothingness　once　more。　Dead；　he　thought　vaguely；　I'm　dead。
　
　Then　he　became　aware　of　another　force；　a　sensation　that　shouldn't　have　been　there。　It　was　ing　through　the　void；　being　stronger；　more　intensified　with　each　passing　moment。　Then　he　had　it；　and　he　knew　he　was　still　among　the　living。　Pain；　glorious；　tormenting　pain。　It　burst　upon　him　in　one　crushing；　agonizing　wave；　and　he　moaned。
　〃Oh；　thank　you；　God！　Thank　you　for　bringing　him　back！〃　The　voice；　it　sounded　miles　away。　He　pushed　his　mind　into　second　gear　and　then　it　came　again。
　〃Dirk！　It's　Tidi！〃　There　was　a　second's　silence；　a　second　in　which　Pitt　became　increasingly　aware　of　the　brightening　light　and　the　stinging　smell　of　pure；　fresh　air　and　a　soft　arm　tenderly　cradled　around　his　head。　His　vision　was　blurred　and　distorted；　he　could　vaguely　distinguish　a　dim　form　leaning　over　him。　He　tried　to　speak　but　could　do　no　more　than　groan；　mumble　a　few　incoherent　words　and　stare　at　the　shadowy　figure　above。
　〃It　seems　our　Major　Pitt　is　about　to　be　reborn。〃
　
　Pitt　could　barely　make　out　the　words。　The　voice　wasn't　from　Tidi's　lips；　that　much　he　was　certain；　the　tone　was　too　deep；　too　masculine。
　〃They　worked　him　over　pretty　thoroughly；〃　said　the　unidentified　voice。　〃Better　he'd　died　without　rezonaining　consciousness。　Judging　from　the　looks　of　things；　none　of　us　will　live　to　see…〃
　〃He'll　make　it。〃　It　was　Tidi　again。　〃He's　got　to　he's　just　got　to。　Dirk　is　our　only　hope。〃
　〃Hope　。　。　。　Hope？〃　Pitt　whispered。　〃Dated　a　girl　named　Hope　once。〃
　
　The　agony　in　his　side　stabbed　and　twisted　like　white…hot　iron；　but　strangely　his　face　felt　nothing；　the　tortured　flesh　was　numb。　Then　he　knew　why；　knew　why　he　saw　only　shadows。　His　sight；　or　at　least　thirty　percent　of　it；　returned　as　Tidi　lifted　a　piece　of　thin　damp　fabric；　the　nylon　of　her　pantyhose；　from　his　face。　Pitts　torn　and　swollen　features　felt　nothing　because　Tidi　had　been　constantly　soaking　the　cuts　and　bruises　in　ice　water　from　a　nearby　mud　puddle　to　relieve　the　intense　swelling。
　
　The　mere　fact　that　Pitt　could　see　anything　at　all　through　the　tiny　slits　around　his　bloated　eyes　attested　to　her　successful　efforts。
　
　Pitt　focused　his　eyes　with　difficulty。　Tidi　was　gazing　down　at　him；　her　long　fawn…colored　hair　framing　a　pale　and　anxious　face。