"Liz Williams - Banner of Souls" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williams Liz)

dimensions."
"I've faced death many times," Dreams-of-War said, affronted.
"That is not what I meant. It is a neurophysiological reaction. In the case of we the living,
consciousness is welded to body and brain, until the point of physical death when the particulates that
compose the spirit detach from the shore-surface of the brain and leave the interface between the
dimensions. You're not about to die; you are, in fact, a long way away from it as a healthy young person.
But now your spirit is trying to tug free, drawn by the ma-trix, and that is why you're uncomfortable."
Dreams-of-War squinted up at the doctor. "And if it did tug free, what then? Would I die?"
"Yes. Body and soul would part company, and then your essence would drift into the blacklight
matrix and be snapped through into the Eldritch Realm. This is what be-falls you when you enter the
Chain, except that in there, people are held together by the internal structures. Usu-ally. But nothing like
that is going to happen to you now. I'm going to put you underтАФ"
"Oh no, you are not!" But before Dreams-of-War could utter another word of protest, the doctor
touched a sleep-pen to her neck. Dreams-of-War fell, snarling, be-tween the warp and weft of life and
death, and knew no more.
When she awoke, it was dark outside. She was lying on an ordinary metal bed, her head supported
by an iron pillow. The armor reposed in a glistening lump on a table by the bedside. The doctor was
nowhere to be seen.
Shakily, Dreams-of-War sat up. She could not see her underharness, but no matter.
"Armor!"
Instantly, Embar Khair's armor uncurled itself from its resting form and flowed across her outstretched
hand. Soon she was covered in familiar gleaming green. Dreams-of-War stood up, supported by the
armor. She felt no differentтАФat first. But when she looked into her-self, she was conscious of a new,
sore spot inside her head. Dreams-of-War probed it, imagining fingers gingerly touching, and the result
was a flooding anxiety, an adrena-line rush that made her gasp. She closed her eyes, and had a sudden
disquieting image of the interior of her mind. Normally as dark, hard, and resolute as metal, her inner self
now contained a small hole, pink and tender from re-cent bleeding. The sensation was as compelling as a
stolen tooth.
The door opened. The doctor's face was disapproving beneath the high scarlet hat.
"You should not be on your feet! And who told you that you could get dressed?"
Dreams-of-War took a single stride across the room and seized the doctor by the throat.
"What have you done to me? What have you put in my head?"
"Rather," the doctor said faintly, scrabbling at the hand around her neck, "you should be asking what
it is that we have removed. Now let me go."
"Removed?"
The doctor was gasping. The scalpel blade shot out from beneath her fingernail. Desiring answers,
Dreams-of-War let go and experienced a curious and unfamiliar sense of relief.
"This is what I have done," the doctor said, massaging her neck. "There is a psychological callus that
is grown on the mind of a warrior, that increases day by day after your release from the growing-skin. It
is that callus that enables you to act fearlessly, to make your goals your only focus, that permits you to go
forth and slaughter your enemies with as little compunction as I feel when I swat a weed bug down from
the wall at night. That emotional callus makes you everything that you are, and now it is gone. You will
feel as a normal made-human feels. You will feel love, af-fection, need, and anxiety for a child."
"I have no intention of having a child!" Sitting by a growing-skin for months while someone
congealed within, fol-lowed by years of restriction and worry? No thanks.
"No, but you will be looking after one. An indif-ferent guardian is no guardian at all. You have to
care. And Memnos is determined to make you care. I do not under-stand you warrior clans. What is
wrong with having emo-tions?"
Dreams-of-War stared at her. "Nothing at all. Emo-tions are a fine and necessary thingтАФpride,
aggression, loyaltyтАж As for caring," she added, bristling, "my duty as a warrior should be enough."