Coming up onto my knees, I saw that he lay upon his left side where he had come to a stop and the knife was several feet beyond him, caught in a tangle of broken branches. Both hands were raised to his face, and his cries were wordless, animal-like bleats.
I made my way over to him to see what had happened, with Frakir held ready to wrap about his throat in case it were some sort of trick he was playing.
But it was not. When I reached him I saw that a sharp limb of a fallen branch had pierced his right eye. There was blood on his cheek and the side of his nose.
“Stop jerking around!” I said. “You’ll make it worse. Let me get it out.”
“Keep your damn hands off me!” he cried.
Then, clenching his teeth and grimacing horribly, he caught hold of the limb with his right hand and drew his head back. I had to look away. He made a whimpering noise several moments later and collapsed, unconscious. I ripped off my left shirt sleeve, tore a strip from it, folded it into a pad and placed it over his damaged eye. With another strip, I tied it into place there. Frakir found her way back about my wrist, as usual.
Then I dug out the Trump that would take us home and raised him in my arms. Mom wasn’t going to like this.
Power.
It was a Saturday. Luke and I had been hang gliding all morning. Then we met Julia and Gail for lunch, and afterward we took the Starburst out and sailed all afternoon. Later, we’d hit the bar and grill at the marina where I bought the beers while we waited for steaks, because Luke had slammed my right arm flat against the tabletop when we’d wrist wrestled to see who paid for drinks.
Someone at the next table said, “If I had a million dollars, tax free, I’d …” and Julia had laughed as she listened.
“What’s funny?” I asked her.
“His wish list,” she said. “I’d want a closet full of designer dresses and some elegant jewelry to go with them. Put the closet in a really nice house, and put the house someplace where I’d be important. . . .”
Luke smiled. “I detect a shift from money to power,” he said.
“Maybe so,” she replied. “But what’s the difference, really?”
“Money buys things,” Luke said. “Power makes things happen. If you ever have a choice, take the power.”
Gail’s usual faint smile had faded, and she wore a very serious expression.
“I don’t believe power should be an end in itself,” she said. “One has it only to use it in certain ways.”
Julia laughed. “What’s wrong with a power trip?” she asked. “It sounds like fun to me.”
“Only till you run into a greater power,” Luke said.
“Then you have to think big,” Julia answered.
“That’s not right,” Gail said. “One has duties and they come first.”
Luke was studying her now, and he nodded.
“You can keep morality out of it,” Julia said.
“No, you can’t,” Luke responded.
“I disagree,” she said.
Luke shrugged.
“She’s right,” Gail said suddenly. “I don’t see that duty and morality are the same thing.”
“Well, if you’ve got a duty,” Luke said, “something you absolutely must do- a matter of honor, say-then that becomes your morality.”
Julia looked at Luke, looked at Gail. “Does that mean we just agreed on something?” she asked.
“No,” Luke said, “I don’t think so.”
Gail took a drink. “You’re talking about a personal code that need not have anything to do with conventional morality.”
“Right,” Luke said.
“Then it’s not really morality. You’re just talking duty,” she said.
“You’re right on the duty,” Luke answered. “But it’s still morality.”
“Morality is the values of a civilization;” she said.
“There is no such thing as civilization,” Luke replied. “The word just means the art of living in cities.”
“All right, then. Of a culture,” she said.
“Cultural values are relative things,” Luke said, smiling, “and mine say I’m right.”
“Where do yours come from?” Gail asked, studying him carefully.
“Let’s keep this pure and philosophical, huh?” he said.