Gudsriki Read Online Free PDF

in tow.
    The bulkheads drew closer and closer. Only a quarter meter remained, slowly crushing inward as Pytten swam past. Finally they emerged into the sonar bay. It had held its shape fairly well. The rubber walls were closer than before but still intact. There was no way out.
    Pytten’s eye hurt worse and worse as the toxic water irritated it. There was blood loss, dizziness, pain. Pytten had no choice, though, and started to work, looking with one left eye, to spring the sonar release dogs.
    One by one they gave way, some sticking badly, but Pytten forced them open; their lives were at stake. There was no choice. They opened.
    Suddenly the sonar bulb rocketed off the front of the sub, towing them with it in its wake. Freezing water hit Pytten’s eye and stung even worse. The pain was enough to pass out, but they were free, and Pytten swam, forcing through the current upward toward the light.
    A hand grabbed Pytten’s. Pursimies. He took Pytten’s hand and towed them upward toward the surface. They broke the membrane of flotsam and inhaled the thin, radioactive air. Pytten changed back for vocal cords.
    â€œStatus!”
    â€œAll present and accounted for! And alive!” laughed Pursimies.
    There was laughter all around. And hands, everyone was slapping Pytten with their fins, on the back, on the head, on the arms. Among them was Bax. Pytten tried to think of something to say, anything appropriate.
    â€œBax, you’re still under arrest.”
    â€œPytten, you’re still an asshole.”
    The crew swam for Harlin Colony.
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    T HERE WAS a vast red blur, dim but somehow too bright. It spread to every corner of his peripheral vision, farther to the right and left and top and bottom than he even knew he could see. He tried to close his eyes to it, but it remained, and his eyes hurt like hell. He tried to look away from it, but he only felt pain in his neck and heard a horrible grinding noise. But the visual… that was only a minor nuisance compared to the smell.
    It was rot, a powerful rot of wet flesh. A hot stink that seeped deep into his head. He thought to pinch his nose, but he couldn’t move his arm. Just grinding and more pain. He tried to at least wrinkle his nose, but he couldn’t feel his nose, only more pain. Pain and red and rot and no body part working. He felt something heavy, an immense weight on his legs, which were similarly immobile and seemingly seized up trying to hold up the force upon them. Had he been crushed?
    He replayed his last memories. Varg stabbing him in the heart and cutting off his face. Well, that explained most of it. He’d come to without a face and thus without the benefits of having a face. No eyes, or at least no lenses for them. He suspected he still had retinas; that would explain the blur. And the stink was forced raw into his nasal turbinates. Everything was exposed.
    He tried to sit up. More grinding gears. More pain. Something else was very wrong. He called out.
    â€œVarg?”
    It didn’t sound like he said Varg. It sounded like water bubbling up through gravel with a side order of retching. Veikko found himself dismayed and somewhat concerned.
    â€œMorning, Veikko,” said Skadi.
    Thank fucking Odin, he thought. Skadi was there. Everything would be okay. He moved instinctively as if to hug her but suffered the grinding again.
    â€œDon’t try to move. Most of your body was burned off.”
    â€œWhere am I?” he asked. The words were barely understandable.
    â€œDon’t try to talk either. I couldn’t find your face.”
    He sat silently trying to feel his body. He couldn’t help but try to move, if only to adjust himself. From what little he could feel beyond the pain, he was moving slightly but not the right way. It was as if he were miswired, as if the muscles pulled on the wrong bones. And that force—he was pinned under something heavy. Or more accurately, he was stuck holding it