Doughnut - By Tom Holt Page 0,79

a sort of smile. “You’re supposed to be a scientist. It’s not going to eat your soul, you know. That’s just a story.”

The pig seemed a little bit calmer, but it was still holding the gun. “Quite,” it said. “And as a scientist, I know that folk tales and legends often have a solid foundation in fact. If that – that thing makes the slightest attempt to cuddle me, I’m shooting first and rationalising afterwards, is that understood?”

“Of course. If you have to shoot, though, try and avoid the head. I’m particularly keen to examine the upper hippocampus, and I can’t do that if you’ve spattered it all over the opposite wall.”

“Um, excuse me,” Theo yelped desperately, “but really, there’s no need. I’m a scientist myself, I can tell you what’s inside my head without you cutting it open.”

The pig squeaked loudly and darted behind the donkey, aiming the gun at Theo between the donkey’s ears. The donkey opened its mouth once or twice, then said, “You’re a scientist?”

“It’s just some words it’s picked up listening to its owners,” the piglet muttered. “I say shoot it now, before it does something to our brains.”

The donkey wasn’t listening. “You mustn’t mind my colleague,” it said slowly, “he had a strict orthodox upbringing, you know, stories about Before, when humans ruled the world. I won’t let him shoot you—”

“Thanks,” Theo gasped.

“Unless absolutely necessary. Tell me,” the donkey went on, gently easing the pig backwards with one of its hind legs, “where are you from? Come to that, what are you?”

“Um.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s a long story,” Theo said cautiously. “Are you by any chance familiar with Everett’s work on relative state formulation?”

“That does it,” whimpered the pig. “I’m going to count to three, and then—”

“Be quiet,” snapped the donkey. “Say that again, will you?”

“Relative state formulation,” Theo repeated. “It’s the basis of modern multiverse theory. Put simply—”

“Multiverse,” the donkey said slowly. “Now there’s a word you don’t hear every day.”

“I’ve never heard it,” squeaked the pig. “It sounds silly. How can you have a multiuniverse? I mean, the universe is like, everything, right? So how can you…?”

Without looking round, the donkey lashed out with its hind legs, hitting the pig square in the chest and hurling it across the room. There was a soft thud as it smashed into the wall; then it dropped to the floor like a cushion and lay still.

“Now then,” the donkey said briskly, swishing its berib-boned tail, “we don’t have much time. I’ll have to think of a plausible story to tell the guard, but that won’t be a problem. Between you and me” – the donkey was nibbling at the ropes that held the bamboo rods together – “the ducks aren’t the pinkest ribbons in the drawer, if you get my drift.”

Theo backed away until the cage stopped him. “What are you—?”

“Breaking you out of here, what does it look like?” the donkey said with its mouth full. “Unless you want to stay here and get vivisected by the scientific community. Sorry, I neglected to consult you on that. Well?”

“On balance,” Theo said, “no, not really. But—”

“That’s all right, then,” the donkey said, spitting out a mouthful of chewed-up fibres. “Now, if you’d be so kind as to give the bars directly ahead of you a good sharp kick.”

There was a crash as the cage collapsed. A couple of bamboo rods bounced off Theo’s head, but they were light enough not to bother him; just as well, since his head was spinning enough already. “Well,” the donkey said, nuzzling through the pig’s pockets, “are you coming or not?” It teased out a fat wallet with its teeth and tossed it through the air at Theo, who dropped it. “In there you’ll find a security pass,” the donkey said. “That’s it, the bright blue one. We’ll need that. Now,” it went on, “get the pig’s clothes and put them on.”

The pig was dressed in a sort of giant nappy. “That’s silly,” Theo said. “I’ll never pass for Piglet. The ears are all wrong, for one thing.”

The donkey sighed. “Fine,” it said. “Stay here.” Then it frowned. “You called it—”

“Piglet,” Theo said. “From Winnie the—”

The donkey gave him the most intense stare he’d ever been subjected to. “Pooh,” he said. “Yes. You’re going to have to tell me how you know that. But not now,” it added, pulling itself together. “Get dressed, then put Piglet in the cage, what’s left of it. And keep your mouth shut, whatever you do.”

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