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Ascension II: Two Madmen

Pitcher returned with an armful of floor mats and a first aid kit. He laid floor mats over the sharp pumice the length of Bates’ body. “Roll,” he instructed.

“I don’t get why you’re doing this,” Bates said. “I just tried to kill you.”

“I don’t see the connection,” Pitcher replied. “Hold up your right hand.” He picked off glassy fragments, wrapped the hand gently in tape, and pulled it off again to remove any fragments he’d overlooked.

“Then you’re a fuckhead.”

“I probably am,” Pitcher agreed, applying antiseptic and more tape. “Other hand.”

Bates added worse epithets; he knew quite a few of them. Pitcher accepted them all, patiently patching up his would-be killer. At last he said “Stand up.”

“I’ll kill you!” Bates yelled as he got to his feet.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you tried. But you would find that quite difficult,” Pitcher advised. “You’ll have to use a long-range weapon, or attack me while I’m sleeping.” He handed Bates the gun. “Let’s fix these gashes on your face.”

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