Moldenke said, "Moldenke, sir. Minor fracture."
The jellyhead swiveled a quarter turn and looked at a chart of seasons on the wall.
Moldenke said, "Moldenke, sir. Minor — "
The jellyhead said, "You I heard! Weather is the outside how?"
Moldenke waited for the correction. The jellyhead said, "Correction: I heard you! How is the weather outside?"
Moldenke said, "Not bad. A little blister snow last night. Not bad."
The jellyhead swiveled a half turn and adjusted his word order bubble, swiveled back, his headlight shining in Moldenke's eye. "What are you giving up, General Moldenke?"
Moldenke mentioned the minor fracture. The jellyhead arranged the colored wafers into a square containing other wafers. "How brave you are, Moldenke. I just this last minute shot a two week vet in the spine. A day ago I had occasion to remove the longest inch he had. One day that, the next day his life. What do you think, Moldenke? Your minute is getting older. Is a minor fracture enough? Ask yourself that?"
Moldenke experienced guilt, agreed to give up a list of feelings in addition to the minor fracture. The jellyhead seemed satisfied, told Moldenke to follow a corridor to the No. 2 fracture room and have a scat. He waited in a cold chair in the fracture room, flipping through magazines. Music played. In a while feet shuffled in the corridor and a jellyhead nurse came into the fracture room. Moldenke smiled, said "Hello." The nurse sat on a stool in front of him and told him to cross one leg over the other. She scissored open the trenchpants, exposing the kneecap. Moldenke looked at the ceiling light. The nurse, in one experienced stroke with a chromium ball peen, broke the kneecap.
He lay in the shock room under a clockpiece. When he opened his eye the jellyhead doctor stood over him. "How do you feel, Moldenke?" Moldenke sat up and said he didn't know. The doctor said, "Good. The War is over now. Go home. Stay in your cot for a few days and then go home."
Returning from the mailpost he rested on a refrigerator in the mud, his knee throbbing, and read the letter:
General Moldenke
The False Front
The War
Dear General Moldenke,
Because of punctuation we have taken Cock Roberta. You may have custody of her after the War. We have her on a standard regimen. She often talks about her hero.
Truly yours,
The Staff
The Grammar Wing
The Great Chicago Clinic
57
When he woke up the k-motor had stopped, the temperature had gone up. He went to the lookout, put on his goggles. A number of suns had risen. His forearms had blistered.
Someone opened the hatch and said, "Climb out of this thing, Moldenke, before you fry yourself."
A column of white sunslight filled the shaft. He opened his backpack and took out his sun hat, clamped on darker goggle lenses. "Hurry on, Moldenke. Climb out of there."
He climbed the shaft. Someone took his elbow and helped him out. "My name is Roquette."
Moldenke squinted in the goggles, saw Roquette reversed and inverted, a figure in khaki swamp shorts, boots, carrying a walking stick and a shade lamp, upside down.
"Reverse the goggles, Moldenke. You've got them on backwards." Moldenke corrected the error, apologized. He was not surprised that Roquette knew his name.
Roquette said, "Bright enough for you, son?"
Moldenke said, "A little."
Roquette wore his hair in a back pouch, his beard pulled tight against his face in a net. "Step closer, son. Let me have a look at you." Moldenke stepped closer. Roquette protchered him on the shoulder. "We heard you coming, son. The folks and myself. They decided I would come out and see if I could help you if you needed it."
Moldenke said, "I need it."
Roquette said, "Follow me."
58
Dear Moldenke,
First, let me clear up a popular misconception. Second, let me hand you a piece of news. One, Eagleman and his moon remain intact. I've touched them both. And two, exactly half of Texaco City burned out last night — old Blackside, the nigger section.
Quickly back to the k-tubes,
Your friend,
Burnheart
59
Dear Burnheart,
All of Blackside? What did they do with the niggers?
Wondering again,
Moldenke
60
Dear Moldenke,
I'm afraid the plural is no longer applicable. Only one of them survived, a rangy old one by the name of Roosevelt Teaset. The rest of them went up in smoke. They'll flood the area now and let the crabs go to work. They didn't even bother with a show of fire-fighting. They simply let it burn. I don't know what to say. It wasn't news to me. I knew they were building a fire fence across the city. After that it was only a matter of arranging a long spell of dry weather, parachuting matches to the children and waiting for the inevitable.
Take pause, Moldenke.
Yours,
Burnheart
61
He middled himself in the auditorium. A dome, angles, vertical walls, everything suggesting architecture. Ushers walked the aisles collecting chits. Bunce was in Texaco City to speak to the folks. Moldenke ate popcorn.
Someone whispered, "Bunce," and everyone stood up. Moldenke remained seated and lit a cigar.
Bunce delivered the standard speech: "I appear before the folks tonight with sorrow under my tongue. You have patiently endured while the moons were down for repairs. Now, as together we approach the terminus, I ask you to turn on your flashlights." Lights in the auditorium went out and flashlights were turned on.
Bunce asked if there were any questions. Moldenke raised his hand.
Bunce said eeNo questions?" Moldenke stood up and whirled his hand in circles above his head.
Bunce said, "I see no hands." Someone next to Moldenke said, "He can't see you. Turn on your flashlight."
Moldenke didn't have a flashlight. Two jellyheads approached and asked him to step into the aisle. They searched through his coats and shirts and reversed his pockets, made him kneel.
Bunce said, "Look at that example, folks. Shine your lights on that man." The audience turned to watch, focusing their beams on Moldenke.
One of the jellyheads said, "Take down the pants." Moldenke took down the pants. The second jellyhead came forward wearing a rubber glove and said, "Bend over. We need some readings."
62
He followed Roquette into a circle of cypress trees. Roquette said, "We'll sit here and talk." They sat in a two-man circle. Roquette turned on the shade lamp. They removed their goggles, huddled under a mushroom of lamp shade, and talked.
Moldenke said he was wondering where they were.
Roquette said he could only say that they were less than a klick from the river. Moldenke listened and heard the flow.
"You look pale and slightly wasted, Moldenke. I presume you came from the city? The cities? How do you say it these days?"