Haladras Read Free

the figure.
    Skylar made no reply.
    The figure, whose voice sounded like a rusty hinge, was an
elderly man with sunken cheeks, pointy chin and wing-like ears, bushing with
sprigs of gray hair. He wore a pair of bulbous goggles, which amplified his
wide-eyed stare.
    “Now,” the old man continued in his creaky voice, “let’s
have a look at your hurts, shall we?”
    The old man produced a light and shined it in each of
Skylar’s eyes, blinding him again.
    “Good...excellent,” he said with a strange sort of
satisfaction. “Now, how are our little surgeons doing? Let us have a look...”
    Placing a black visor over his goggles, the man moved his
face uncomfortably close to the side of Skylar’s head. Skylar tried to watch
out of the corner of his eyes. What was he doing? Was he a physician?
    “Almost done,” said the queer old man, as if speaking to
himself. “Yes, yes…a fine job. They always do. Almost done.”
    The man removed the visor and smiled at Skylar. Several of
the man’s teeth were missing, and of the remaining, all pointed in different
directions.
    “Uh...who’s almost done?” said Skylar. “And with what, Sir?
Where am I?”
    “The boy wants to know where he is,” responded the old man,
as if there were someone else in the room. He chuckled lightly. “Why, in the
infirmary, my boy, where else?”
    “What infirmary?”
    The old man chuckled some more. “‘What infirmary?’ he asks. The
Cloud Harbor infirmary, of course. Dr. Beezin, at your service.”
    “Cloud Harbor!” cried Skylar as his memory came rushing back
to him.
    The convoy...Captain Arturo...
    Suddenly, he remembered everything.
    “What happened to the convoy ship?”
    “Don’t distress yourself, my boy. The convoy has long since
docked.”
    “And Captain Arturo?”
    “Long departed, I’m sure, my boy. In an awful hurry, I
hear.”
    Skylar closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. Everything had
gone wrong—terribly wrong. Arturo was gone. Rasbus would never let Skylar near
the dock again. In one brief moment his dreams of joining Arturo’s crew were
crushed.
    “Was anyone else hurt?”
    “All is well. Don’t worry yourself. You’re still weak and
need your rest. If anyone else was injured, they were not brought to me.”
    “That was quite a fall you had—I’m told,” continued Dr.
Beezin. “You’re lucky to be alive, I’m told. If I were you, I’d be grateful I
only lost my leg.”
    “What!” Skylar craned his aching neck to see down the length
of his body. A white sheet covered his torso. Nervously, he attempted to lift
his right leg. The sheet lifted with it. He still had his right leg. Almost too
fearful to try, he slowly made to lift his left leg. For a heart-stopping
moment nothing happened. But it was only his mind playing tricks on him. The
sheet rose. His left leg was still attached.
    Skylar let out a sigh of relief and let his head fall back
on his pillow. A gleeful laugh erupted from the doctor.
    “They always fall for that one. Oh, I do love that trick!”
    “Very funny,” snapped Skylar. He felt in no mood for games
or tricks. Not after the utter disappointment he’d just suffered. Still, he
found it difficult to feel too angry, so great was his relief to find both his
legs still attached to his body.
    “It’s alright to laugh, my boy. It is a good jest. No, the
only thing wrong with you—medically speaking—is a fractured skull. And our
little helpers have just about mended that.”
    “What little helpers?”
    “The littlest of the little helpers. Synthetic osteoclasts.
Bone builders. They are inside that thick cranium of yours doing some
construction work, you might say.”
    Skylar had never heard of anything like synthetic
osteoclasts. With a character like Dr. Beezin it was likely another joke. He
decided not to pursue the subject further. Besides, the idea of any foreign
microscopic object roving around in his head made him feel uneasy.
    “How long was I unconscious?”
    “‘How