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Three downers later, Tonto wheeled the double stretcher down the aisles of
body racks, looking for Jimmy
Jitterman's body. He'd already found Rimmer's; it lay on the stretcher
goo-eyed and tongue lolling; but he couldn't find
Jimmy's. Thirty minutes passed, and he still couldn't find it. It wasn't here.
He opened the small sound-proofed box, and Jimmy and Rimmer bounced out.
'Your body's not here, Jimmy. They must have auctioned it already.'
 I ll take that one, instead.'
'That's my body,' said Rimmer, firmly.
'Was.'
'Now wait a minute. Me and that body go back years. It has great sentimental
value. You can't just take my body.'
'Get him another one.'
'I don't want another one.'
'OK. Don't a get him another one.'
'OK, get me another one.'
The soundwaves bounced back into the box. Tonto unhooked the nearest body to
him and slammed it on to the stretcher alongside Rimmer's.
When Rimmer opened his eyes, he found himself standing in front of himself,
before he remembered Jimmy was in his body, now, and he had a new one.
Rimmer wasn't quite sure how he felt. Pretty peculiar was about the best label
he could find.
Seeing Jimmy in his body, standing in a way he would never have stood, his
lips twisting his features into an expression he'd never seen before, made him
feel an emotion he'd never ex-perienced.
Jealousy was part of it. Anger was there. Frustration, cer-tainly. A large
scoop of nostalgia. And the same
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feeling he'd once had when he lent his mountain bike to his brother Howard,
knowing, without evidence, it wasn't going to be looked after terribly well.
And strangest of all, a weird kind of 'glowy' feeling at the bottom of his
stomach.
'OK, let's get out of here,' Jimmy was saying with Rimmer's voice from inside
Rimmer's body. Then Jimmy did something that made Rimmer feel even more
peculiar. He was one of those men, macho-bred, who like to stand with their
legs apart, one hand over the groin of their trousers, quite openly cupping
their testicles.
He felt very odd indeed, watching helplessly as another man idly juggled his
own genitalia. Or rather, his ex-genitalia.
Before he could cry out: 'Hey - keep your filthy hands off my goodies,' the
swing doors at the far end of the
Transfer Suite slammed open, and six armed officers came in, firing.
Rimmer didn't know who to be scared for most: himself or his ex-self.
Jimmy, in Rimmer's body, was standing, almost contemptu-ous of the guards'
barrage, in the middle of one of the aisles, firing off two handguns, stolen
from Tonto's victims. He was laughing, too. He was actually laughing. Using
Rimmer's vocal cords and Rimmer's laugh. The high-pitched giggle which Rimmer
usually reserved for moments of high humour. Hardly appropriate in a pitched
battle to the death.
'Out the back!' Tonto was yelling.
'You go,' Jimmy laughed in Rimmer's body. 'I got me some goons to kill!'
'Leave it - you don't stand a chance.'
'Who cares?'
He flicked his guns, Cagney-style, as if the wrist-snapping motion would give
the bullets extra speed, and howled hys-terically as small explosions of red
burst out of the chests of three of the six guards, killing two and earning
the third a permanent desk job.
Rimmer cowered, half-dazed in his new body as this fresh horror unfolded in
slow motion before him.
Here was the body of Arnold J. Rimmer, gunning down security guards like ducks
at an arcade and plainly enjoying it, in full view of three police witnesses.
Now how was that going to look in court?
He wasn't in it, but his body was a cop killer.
This seemingly untoppable horror was then topped by an even more untoppable
horror, moments later, and this second untoppable horror was then topped
itself by a third, even more untoppable horror less than ten seconds after
that.
Something that belonged inside Rimmer's body hit the wall wetly, and Jimmy
screeched and spun round, clutching Rimmer's shoulder.
'I've been hit!' he giggled. Then his elbow exploded into a cloud of red mist,
spinning him around again.
'Twice!' He snorted laughter-spittle, as Tonto laid down some covering fire
and edged towards him.
'Come on, we can still get out.' Tonto grabbed Jimmy and hauled him through
the doorway, still firing.
Rimmer stumbled after them.
They dashed down a corridor. Tonto and Jimmy effortlessly accelerated away.
Rimmer couldn't keep up. For some reason, running was incredibly painful. But
the pain wasn't in his legs, it was in his chest. Just what was this body he'd [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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