Amberville - By Tim Davys Page 0,41

was not the focus of this visit. As long as neither of the gorillas moved, they mostly resembled stone statues, and Nicholas Dove was, as always, removed in a super animal kind of way. The only thing holding up the nervous energy was Sam, who noisily searched for ice in the freezer. He had decided, on his own authority, to serve Nicholas Dove a glass of water.

“And the worst thing is,” said Dove, “I’m not at all certain that you’re exerting yourself.”

His tone of voice was slightly absent; he didn’t look at Eric but rather his gaze swept across the room as though he were searching for something.

“Not exerting myself?” repeated the bear, irritated. “I’m living in a pigsty in Yok, I’ve turned the day upside down in order to—”

“You don’t understand,” interrupted Dove. “It’s not a question of what you’re doing, it’s a matter of what you’re coming up with.”

And with an unexpected intensity, he burrowed his gaze into the bear, who involuntarily stepped back. In Nicholas Dove’s normally inscrutable pupils was a desperation that Eric had never seen before, and which he never wanted to see again. It was coal-black and unmerciful.

“I’m forced to make myself clear, I think,” said Dove in a low voice.

A scarcely discernible nod, and suddenly things happened.

When both of the gorillas—as if they were guided, if somewhat slow, robots—took the few steps over to Eric Bear and took hold of the bear’s arms, the nervous Sam dropped the water glass that he’d finally filled. The sharp crash of breaking glass caused Nicholas Dove to react with surprising speed. Dove whirled around, turning his back to the others. Sam screamed as ice and glass splinters whirled around his hooves, and before the scream had quieted, Nicholas Dove had conjured an automatic weapon from his wing; larger than a pistol but smaller than a carbine. For a brief moment he aimed the weapon at Sam, but then Dove realized what had happened. Without batting an eye he put the weapon back inside his feathers and again directed his attention toward Eric Bear.

Snake Marek had been waiting for this moment of confusion.

In the moment that followed after the water glass struck the floor, Snake was already past the gorillas. He wriggled out through the open door and was on his way down the stairs when the dove pulled out his weapon. Eric looked after Marek. Nothing else was really to be expected of that miserable snake, he thought. Nicholas Dove didn’t even condescend to send a gorilla to bring back the reptile; that’s how insignificant he was in the dove’s eyes.

“It’s important to be clear,” continued Dove as if this little intermezzo hadn’t taken place. “And I’m wondering if you’ve understood that there is a time factor to take into account here.”

“Obviously I have—” began Eric, but he got no further before one of the gorillas punched him in the stomach with a force that completely took the breath out of him.

The surprise also did its part. His legs lost all their strength, and suddenly it was the gorillas who were holding him up.

“You don’t have much time,” said Dove.

The next blow struck above the bear’s eye, gliding across his eyebrow and a little ways up over his forehead. Before Eric had time to feel it the next hit came, against the temple, and then he felt the pain in his belly. He coughed, not seeing the cotton coming out of his mouth, but Sam started screaming from over in the kitchen.

“Shut your mouth, you goose.”

It was the first time Dove had addressed anyone else in the room, and he did so in a low but determined voice. Sam became silent immediately.

The gorillas released Eric Bear, who with a heavy thud fell to the floor.

Eric was struggling to retain consciousness, but failed. It was as though Sam’s apartment gradually faded away, and instead the beach in Hillevie emerged. With a pleasurable intoxication in his body he was strolling along the edge of the beach, on his way over to the decrepit pier. Eric had experienced many of life’s best moments sitting on the worn planks on the pier at the north end of the beach.

He carefully balanced out to the end of the pier, where he sat down with his legs hanging over the edge and his paws a few decimeters above the surface of the water. In the moonlight the sea was lying dark and endless before him, removing all feelings of time and distance.

And