Quote Originally Posted by Ramil
5

They remained in the ditch for another half an hour waiting for the rustling and whistling to cease and seeing small groups of men had started falling back to the cottages.
“How did you manage to persuade them?” asked Arthur while turning over on his back. He didn’t pay attention to water anymore. It seemed warm to him probably/most likely.
“A little bit of flattery, a little bit of threats, showing off, a bribe and a pinch of nationalism.”
“What?”
“Well, there’s a drop of Russian blood in me. I played on it… “the Russians don’t kill the Russians.”
“Is it true?”
“It’s nonsense. Quite the contrary, it’s in their tradition. But it flatters and helps to save one’s face. I’ve been repeating this phrase for at least twenty times by changing only nationality. It works usually/It usually works… if your opponent needs an excuse to back away. You see, nationalism is always just an excuse. And it could be used in both ways: ‘we are peaceful’ or ‘we are courageous’, ‘we’re hard-working’ or ‘we’re lazy’. You can shrug off anything/You can shrug anything off to national or race traits and get away with it.
“That’s amusing.” decided Arthur after thinking it over.
“Yes it is… Give me your gun; you go with the stunner. Cover our rear.”
Kay rose and started walking away from the settlement. Arthur followed him looking about. They weren’t shot at.

Somewhat three hours later they got to a good concrete road and followed it while it matched their direction. At that moment/By then the rain had washed off all the dirt from them and much of their inspiration from victory.
“It’s a total wasteland no further than thirty kilometers from the capital.” Kay was cursing quietly “And they’re fighting over the right to fight for some islands! Did (Do ?) you see them on the map, Arthur?”
“No.”
Kay turned around and shook his head.
“We need rest. But not here. Go forth Arthur, Graal awaits thee… What have you got there, by the way?”
“A half-credit penny.” Arthur answered gloomily.
After another hour of plodding through sown but not harvested fields (of a local thorny cereal grain that seemed to be unaffected by the rain and soaked ground) they tumbled upon a house fenced by metallic chain link. The building had nearly no windows, it was low and gray, and seemed uninhabitable.
“The everyday work of a farmer.” said Kay while looking at the building. “It must be a pigpen or a barn. Do you like bacon?”
“What’s so funny?”
“I am working, Arthur, let’s go.”
They crept under a bent fence onto the territory/yard and found the entrance – the rolling metal doors.”
“Knock-knock!” Kay said loudly while rolling the door to the side. A beam flashed from the darkness inside.
They jumped to either side of the door. No more shots followed. Kay waved his hand slightly to the right and back. Arthur took off his cap obediently, put it on the barrel and moved it in front of the opening. As the next shot inflamed the poor headdress/cap Kay slipped into the darkness.
Arthur didn’t have to wait for long. A series of impulses illuminated the shed with violet flashes. Then Kay shouted:
“Come in, Sir Arthur, for everything is in order. The wrong has been righted. My strength has served the right.”
“Hey, you do know about King Arthur and the Round table!”
“I should not argue with you.” answered Kay as he dragged the body out of the shed by the legs. The smell of burned flesh made Arthur turn away.
“At least we have solved our problem with food.” Kay said as he stooped by the door.
“I won’t” Arthur replied quickly.
“There is a bag near the wall, you fool. Ransack it while I…” Kay continued his work. The dead man was old and his long grey hair dragged in the mud clotting into black icicles.”
Arthur was opening the tin-cans when Kay returned.
“It’s the only food and a couple of beer cans here.” he announced.
“The deceased wanted to survive but we wanted the same.” resumed Kay. “It’s not a bad place, isn’t/is it?”
The shed turned out to be a farmer’s garage. By the walls there stood heavy and bulky machines and there was the grey cube of a recharging device in the corner. Kay examined it and shook his head, climbed into one machine then into another one…
“Will you eat, Kay?”
“Certainly.”
They ate canned meat and drank a bottle of beer. Then Kay built a fire out of wooden panels which he had mercilessly torn out from the walls. Meanwhile Arthur fixed a metal grating of unknown origin by the fire and hanged his wet clothing on it. Kay followed his example.
“What was he shooting with?” asked Arthur looking into the fire.
“A laser rifle. He was a rich farmer … by local standards.”
“I hope he had the aThan.” Curtis junior said seriously.
Kay laughed quietly but didn’t say anything. They were sitting for some time slowly getting warm. Rain was tapping on the closed door and under the ceiling hung a blue-gray cloud of smoke.
“Arthur…”
“What is it, Kay?”
“I’m going to ask you one question… no, not now.”
“Why not, go ahead.”
“No, you’re going to lie and I want to know the truth.”
“One doesn’t really need to know the whole truth.”
“You’re too clever… We’ll spend the night here. There’s no point in roaming about in the dark.”
Arthur didn’t understood but chose not to say anything. Kay put on his clothing that was still damp, climbed into the nearest harvester and started examining the control panel. Arthur looked at him from the floor, in the light of the fire his indistinct figure was flickering and grotesquely distorted by the cockpit glass.
“Splendid.” said Kay with satisfaction. “That’s why the old man didn’t use fire…”
“Listen, dad…”
“What?”
“Why do you hate children? I know you had a hard time in your childhood but that’s not the reason.”
Kay sat on the cockpit floor with his legs dangling in the air.
“Truth for truth, frankly?”
“As it was with the silicoid. Come on.”
“I’ve never been a child. I have always been forty years old, Arthur. It’s very hard not remembering yourself being a careless boy. To try to be like your age-mates, to envy them… Too good a childhood turns a kid into an adult quicker than a bad one.”
“Did you have a good childhood?”
“My father was a senator on Shedar the second. I did have a very good childhood indeed. I turned seven on the evacuation day … and I wasn’t a child anymore. I saw as assault capsules were landing on the sandbanks… only at the port our last base was still holding/defending the sky. My father remained on the planet with the guerilla groups. They still believed that the Empire would come to help. They were probably alive when Emperor Gray had ordered/had given the order to scorch the planets. I’m not saying he was wrong. An assault would have taken far more lives than there were guerillas on the occupied planet… the planet that wasn’t amongst/among the most obedient ones in the Empire to begin with. Altos harbored us and we survived. They didn’t leave us our surnames, I stopped being Kay Lacitis. We became children of the Empire. But I couldn’t become a kid again and everybody felt that. Such children are adored by their parents but they have no friends. I tried, Arthur, I tried hard. The housemaster of our block “G” was a very good man, a person of many sides, the author of many TV-series for kids that were broadcast over the networks on Altos, not a sadist or pervert/nor a pervert unlike many who like such jobs very much. He sincerely believed that children should be guarded against the adults. He always talked about friendship and kindness… but he couldn’t understand why his tight-knit pupils disliked little Kay. For him, I remained a touching kid with a thin neck …”
Arthur smiled inadvertently.
“… and sad eyes. My classmates saw that I was different and defended against me as they could. When I understood that I couldn’t turn back into a child I became an adult. One night… it doesn’t matter. I tagged along with a traveling circus. It was one of those places too, but they treated me almost humanly. I mopped the floors, sold tickets, and was an assistant to the clowns. For a year I was the living target for Redgar Red the man-gun…”
“Did you kill him too?”
“What? No, Arthur, Redgar taught me everything: how to shoot, how to throw knives, how not to close your eyes when you’re getting shot at. Then he said that the circus for me was just a staging post and made me work with Diana, his girlfriend. She was a trapeze artist. I liked it until she fell and got her neck broken. I was passed from artist to artist and worked a little bit with everyone. Our clowns Yacek and Narek gave me more therapy than a dozen psychologists could do. Still they had never tried to drag me into their big double bed even though they were gay as clear as day. I know how animals look when preparing to attack and how to defend from a psy-mutated tiger. I should be grateful to Jassan for that. He was the only Mrshhan among us. He also taught me to have a knack for wines…”
Kay went silent.
“You hate children because you had no childhood yourself.” Arthur said without mercy. “You envy them. You think that the child’s envy of adults is stronger even than women’s envy of men. You constantly consider yourself being hated.”
“Yes.”
“Then you ask.”
“Is it difficult to try to be an adult while remaining a child?”
“Of course it is, Kay.”
“Let’s sleep now, Arthur Van Curtis.” Kay jumped down. “Get in the cockpit and close the door. I turned the heating on and there is a broad seat inside.”
“And you?”
“I’ll look for another tractor. Good night.”