ï»¿The Project Gutenberg EBook of Voodoo Planet, by Andre NortonThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away orre-use it underthe terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.orgTitle: Voodoo PlanetAuthor: Andre NortonRelease Date: July 16, 2006 [EBook #18846]Language: English*** STARTOF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VOODOO PLANET ***Produced by Greg Weeks, LN Yaddanapudi and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net[Illustration (Cover):DUEL OF THE COSMICMAGICIANSVOODOOPLANETANDRE NORTONComplete Novel]CHALLENGE ME WITH MONSTERS!"From between the two shuffling dancers padded something on four feet.The canine-feline creature was more than just ahead; it was aloose-limbed, graceful body fully eight feet in length, and the red eyesin the prick-eared head were those of a killer.... Words issued frombetween those curved fangs, words which Dane might notunderstand...."Dane slid his blade out surreptitiously, setting its point against thepalm of his hand and jabbing painfully; but the terrible creaturecontinued to advance.... There was no blurring of its lines...."DaneThorson of the space-ship _Solar Queen_ knew there was only one wayto win out over this hideous thing--a battle to the end between hisrational mind and the hypnotic witchcraft of Lumbrilo, the mental wizardof theplanet Khatka.CAST OF CHARACTERSDane ThorsonHe wanted to spend a short vacation on Khatka, not the rest of his life.Medic TauWas he physician or magician--or a little bit of both?Chief Ranger AsakiTracking theforests had taught him that mad animals--whether real orimaginary--were to be feared.Captain JellicoWould his knowledge of alien life-forms help him in his fight againstalien ghosts?NymaniNot even this pilot's mostscientific skill could overcome a voodoocharm's ground-drag.LumbriloOn his own planet he was a witch doctor; on Earth he'd have been amaster politician.VOODOO PLANETbyANDRE NORTONACE BOOKS, INC.23 West47th Street, New York 36, N. Y.VOODOO PLANETCopyright (c), 1959, by Ace Books, Inc.All Rights ReservedPrinted in U. S.A.  +--------------------------------------------------------------+  |                                                              |  |                      Transcriber's Note                      |  |                                                              |  | There isno evidence that the copyright on this publication  |  |                         was renewed.                         |  |                                                              |  +--------------------------------------------------------------+ITalk ofheat--or better not--on Xecho. This water-logged world combinedall the most unattractive features of a steam bath and one could onlydream of coolness, greenness--more land than a stingy string of islands.The youngman on the promontory above the crash of the waves wore thewinged cap of a spaceman with the insignia of a cargo-master and notmuch else, save a pair of very short shorts. He wiped one hand absentlyacross hisbare chest and brought it away damp as he studied, throughprotective sun goggles, the treacherous promise of the bright sea. One_could_ swim--if he wanted to lose most of his skin. There were minuteorganisms inthat liquid that smacked their lips--if they hadlips--every time they thought of a Terran.Dane Thorson licked his own lips, tasting salt, and plodded back throughthe sand of the spaceport to the berth of the _SolarQueen_. This hadbeen a long day, and one with more snarl-ups than he cared to count,keeping him on a constant, dogged trot between the ship and the fittingyard where riggers labored with the slowest motionspossible to thehuman body--or so it seemed to the exasperated acting-Cargo-Master ofthe Free Trader. Captain Jellico had long ago taken refuge in his cabinto preserve the remnants of his temper. Dane had beenallowed no suchescape.The _Queen_ had a schedule for refitting to serve as a mail ship, andthat time allowance did not allow for humidity playing the devil withthe innards of robot fitters. She _had_ to be ready to liftwhen theCombine ship now plying that run set down and formally signed off in herfavor. Luckily, most of the work was done and Dane had given a lastsearching inspection before signing the rigger's book and reportingtohis captain.The air-conditioned interior of the _Queen_ comforted him as he climbedto his quarters. Ship air was flat, chemically pure but unappetizingstuff. Today it was a relief to breathe. Dane went on to thebather. Atleast there was no lack of water--with the local skinners filtered out.It was chill but relaxing on his gaunt young body.He was sealing on his lightest tunic when the ramp buzzer sounded. Avisitor--oh, not thesupervisor-rigger again! Dane went to answer withdragging feet. For the crew of the _Queen_ at the moment numberedexactly four, with himself for general errand boy. Captain Jellico wasin his quarters two levelsabove, Medic Tau was presumably overhaulinghis supplies, and Sindbad, ship's cat, asleep in some empty cabin.Dane jerked his tunic into place, very much on his guard as he came tothe head of the ramp. But it wasnot the supervisor-rigger. Dane,thoroughly used to unusual-appearing strangers, both human and alien,was impressed by this visitor.He was tall, this quiet man, his great height accented by a fitleanness, a narrownessof waist and hip, a length of leg and arm. Hismain article of clothing was the universal shorts of the Xecho settler.But, being fashioned of saffron yellow, they were the more brilliantbecause of his darkness of skin. Forhe was not the warm brown of theTerran Negroes Dane had served beside, though he shared their generalfeatures. His flesh was really black, black with an almost bluish sheen.Instead of shirt or tunic, his deep chestwas crossed by two widestraps, the big medallion marking their intersection giving forthflashes of gem fire when he breathed. He wore at his belt not thestandard stun gun of a spaceman, but a weapon which resembledthe moredeadly Patrol blaster, as well as a long knife housed in a jeweled andfringed sheath. To the eye he was an example of barbaric force tamedand trimmed to civilized efficiency.He saluted, palm out, and spokeGalactic Basic with only a suggestion ofaccent."I am Kort Asaki. I believe Captain Jellico expects me.""Yes, sir!" Dane snapped to attention. So this was the Chief Ranger fromfabulous Khatka, Xecho's sister planet.Theother ascended the cat ladder easily, missing no detail of theship's interior as he passed. His expression was still one of politeinterest as his guide rapped on the panel door of Jellico's cabin. And ahorrible screech fromQueex, the captain's pet hoobat, drowned out anyimmediate answer. Then followed that automatic thump on the floor of theblue-feathered, crab-parrot-toad's cage, announcing that its master wasin residence.Since thecaptain's cordial welcome extended only to his guest, Daneregretfully descended to the mess cabin to make unskilled preparationsfor supper--though there was not much you could do to foul upconcentrates in anautomatic cooker."Company?" Tau sat beyond the cooking unit nursing a mug of Terrancoffee. "And do you _have_ to serve music with the meals, especiallythat particular selection?"Dane flushed, stopped whistling inmid-note. "Terra Bound" _was_ oldand pretty well worn out; he didn't know why he always unconsciouslysounded off with that."A Chief Ranger from Khatka just came on board," he reported, carefullyoffhand, as hebusied himself reading labels. He knew better than toserve fish or any of its derivatives in disguise again."Khatka!" Tau sat up straighter. "Now there's a planet worth visiting.""Not on a Free Trader's pay," commentedDane."You can always hope to make a big strike, boy. But what I wouldn't giveto lift ship for there!""Why? You're no hunter. How come you want to heat jets for that port?""Oh, I don't care about the game preserves,though they're worth seeing,too. It's the people themselves--""But they're Terran settlers, or at least from Terran stock, aren'tthey?""Sure," Tau sipped his coffee slowly. "But there are settlers andsettlers, son. And alot depends upon when they left Terra and why, andwho they were--also what happened to them after they landed out here.""And Khatkans are really special?""Well, they have an amazing history. The colony wasfounded by escapedprisoners--and just one racial stock. They took off from Earth close tothe end of the Second Atomic War. That was a race war, remember? Whichmade it doubly ugly." Tau's mouth twisted in disgust."As if the colorof a man's skin makes any difference in what lies under it! One side inthat line-up tried to take over Africa--herded most of the natives intoa giant concentration camp and practiced genocide on a grandscale. Thenthey were cracked themselves, hard and heavy. During the confusion somesurvivors in the camp staged a revolt, helped by the enemy. Theycaptured an experimental station hidden in the center of the campandmade a break into space in two ships which had been built there. Thatvoyage must have been a nightmare, but they were desperate. Somehow theymade it out here to the rim and set down on Khatka withoutpower enoughto take off again--and by then most of them were dead."But we humans, no matter what our race, are a tough breed. The refugeesdiscovered that climatically their new world was not too differentfromAfrica, a lucky chance which might happen only once in a thousand times.So they thrived, the handful who survived. But the white techniciansthey had kidnaped to run the ships didn't. For they set up a color barinreverse. The lighter your skin, the lower you were in the socialscale. By that kind of selective breeding the present Khatkans are verydark indeed."They reverted to the primitive for survival. Then, about twohundredyears ago, long before the first Survey Scout discovered them, somethinghappened. Either the parent race mutated, or, as sometimes occurs, aline of people of superior gifts emerged--not in a few isolatedbirths,but with surprising regularity in five family clans. There was a shortperiod of power struggle until they realized the foolishness of civilwar and formed an oligarchy, heading a loose tribal organization. Withthe FiveFamilies to push and lead, a new civilization developed, andwhen Survey came to call they were no longer savages. Combine bought thetrade rights about seventy-five years ago. Then the Company and theFiveFamilies got together and marketed a luxury item to the galaxy. You knowhow every super-jet big shot on twenty-five planets wants to say he'shunted on Khatka. And if he can point out a graz head on his wall,orwear a tail bracelet, he's able to strut with the best. To holiday onKhatka is both fabulous and fashionable--and very, very profitable forthe natives and for Combine who sells transportation to the travelers.""I hearthey have poachers, too," Dane remarked."Yes, that naturally follows. You know what a glam skin brings on themarket. Wherever you have a rigidly controlled export you're going tohave poachers and smugglers. Butthe Patrol doesn't go to Khatka. Thenatives handle their own criminals. Personally, I'd cheerfully take aninety-nine-year sentence in the Lunar mines in place of what theKhatkans dish out to a poacher they net!""So thatrumor has spread satisfactorily!"Coffee slopped over the brim of Tau's mug and Dane dropped the packet ofsteak concentrate he was about to feed into the cooker. Chief RangerAsaki loomed in the doorway of the messas suddenly as if he had beenteleported to that point.The medic arose to his feet and smiled politely at the visitor."Do I detect in that observation, sir, the suggestion that the tales Ihave heard were deliberately set toblast where they would do the mostgood as deterrents?"A fleeting grin broke the impassive somberness of the black face."I was informed you are a man skilled in 'magic,' Medic. You certainlydisplay the traditionalsorcerer's quickness of wit. But this rumor isalso truth." The quirk of good humor had gone again, and there was anedge in the Chief Ranger's voice which cut. "Poachers on Khatka wouldwelcome the Patrol in place ofthe attention they now receive."He came into the mess cabin, Jellico behind him, and Dane pulled downtwo of the snap seats. He was holding a mug under the spout of thecoffee dispenser as the captain madeintroductions."Thorson--our acting-cargo-master.""Thorson," the Khatkan acknowledged with a grave nod of his head, andthen glanced down to floor level with a look of surprise. Weaving apattern about his legs,purring loudly, Sindbad was offering anunusually fervent welcome of his own. The Ranger went down on one knee,his hand out for Sindbad's inquiring sniff. Then the cat butted thatdark palm, batted at it playfully withclaw-sheathed paw."A Terran cat! It is of the lion family?""Far removed," Jellico supplied. "You'd have to add a lot of bulk toSindbad to promote him to the lion class.""We have only the old tales." Asaki sounded almostwistful as the catjumped to his knee and clawed for a hold on his chest belts. "But I donot believe that lions were ever so friendly toward my ancestors."Dane would have removed the cat, but the Khatkan arose withSindbad,still purring loudly, resting in the crook of his arm. The Ranger wassmiling with a gentleness which changed the whole arrogant cast of hiscountenance."Do not bring this one to Khatka with you, Captain, or youwill nevertake him away again. Those who dwell in the inner courts would not lethim vanish from their sight. Ah, so this pleases you, small lion?" Herubbed Sindbad gently under the throat and the cat stretched hisneck,his yellow eyes half closed in bliss."Thorson," the Captain turned to Dane, "that arrival report on my deskwas the final one from Combine?""Yes, sir. There's no hope of the _Rover_ setting down here beforethatdate."Asaki sat down, still holding the cat. "So you see, Captain, fortune hasarranged it all. You have two tens of days. Four days to go in mycruiser, four days for your return here, and the rest to explorethepreserve. We could not ask for better luck, for I do not know when ourpaths may cross again. In the normal course of events I will not haveanother mission to Xecho for a year, perhaps longer. Also--" Hehesitatedand then spoke to Tau. "Medic, Captain Jellico has informed methat you have made a study of magic on many worlds.""That is so, sir.""Do you then believe that it is real force, or that it is only asuperstition forchild-people who set up demons to howl petitions towhen some darkness falls upon them?""Some of the magic I have seen is trickery, some of it founded upon aninner knowledge of men and their ways which a shrewdwitch doctor canuse to his advantage. There always remains"--Tau put down his mug,"--there always remains a small residue of happenings and results forwhich we have not yet found any logical explanations--""And Ibelieve," Asaki interrupted, "it is also true that a race can beconditioned from birth to be sensitive to forms of magic so that men ofthat blood are particularly susceptible." That was more of a statementthan a question,but Tau answered it."That is very true. A Lamorian, for example, can be 'sung' to death. Ihave witnessed such a case. But upon a Terran or another off-world manthe same suggestion would have no effect.""Those whosettled Khatka brought such magic with them." The ChiefRanger's fingers still moved about Sindbad's jaw and throat soothingly,but his tone was chill, the coldest thing in the cramped space of themess cabin."Yes, ahighly developed form of it," Tau agreed."More highly developed perhaps than even you can believe, Medic!"That came in a hiss of cold rage. "I think that its presentmanifestation--death by a beast that is not abeast--could be worthyour detailed study.""Why?" Tau came bluntly to the point."Because it is a killing magic and it is being carefully used to rid myworld of key men, men we need badly. If there is a weak point inthiscloudy attack shaping against us, we must learn it, and soon!"It was Jellico who added the rest. "We are invited to visit Khatka andsurvey a new hunting range as Chief Ranger Asaki's personal termguests."Danedrew a deep breath of wonder. Guest rights on Khatka were jealouslyguarded--they were too valuable to their owners to waste. Whole familieslived on the income from the yearly rental of even half a one. ButtheRangers, by right of office, had several which they could grant tovisiting scientists or men from other worlds holding positions similarto their own. To have such an opportunity offered to an ordinary Traderwas almostincredible.His wonder was matched by Tau's and must have been plain to read for theChief Ranger smiled."For a long time Captain Jellico and I have exchanged biological data onalien life-forms--his skill inphotographing such, his knowledge as anxenobiologist are widely recognized. And so I have permission for him tovisit the new Zoboru preserve, not yet officially opened. And you, MedicTau, your help, or at least yourdiagnosis, we need in anotherdirection. So, one expert comes openly, another not so openly. Though,Medic, your task is approved by my superiors. And"--he glanced atDane--"perhaps to muddle the trail for thesuspicious, shall we not askthis young man also?"Dane's eyes went to the captain. Jellico was always fair and his crewwould have snapped into action on his word alone--even if they werefronting a rain of Thorkiandeath darts and that order was to advance.But, on the other hand, Dane would never have asked a favor, and thebest he hoped for was to be able to perform his duties withoutunfavorable comment upon theircommission. He had no reason to believeJellico was willing to agree to this."You have two weeks' planet-side leave coming, Thorson. If you want tospend it on Khatka...." Jellico actually grinned then. "I take it thatyoudo. When do we up-ship, sir?""You said that you must wait for the return of your other crewmembers--shall we say mid-afternoon tomorrow?" The Chief Ranger stood upand put Sindbad down though the cat protestedwith several sharp meows."Small lion," the tall Khatkan spoke to the cat as to an equal, "this isyour jungle, and mine lies elsewhere. But should you ever grow tired oftraveling the stars, there is always a home for youin my courts."When the Chief Ranger went out the door, Sindbad did not try to follow,but he uttered one mournful little cry of protest and loss."So he wants a trouble shooter, does he?" Tau asked. "All right, I'lltry tohunt out his goblins for him; it'll be worth that to visitKhatka!"Dane, remembering the hot glare of the Xecho spaceport, the sea onecould not swim in, contrasted that with the tri-dees he had seen of thegreen hunters'paradise on the next planet of the system. "Yes, sir!" heechoed and made a haphazard choice for the cooker."Don't be too lighthearted," Tau warned. "I'll say that any stew whichwas too hot for that Ranger to handlemight give us burned fingers--andquick. When we land on Khatka, walk softly and look over your shoulder,and be prepared for the worst."IILightning played along the black ridges above them, and below was asheerdrop to a river which was only a silver thread. Under their boots,man-made and yet dominating the wildness of jungle and mountain, was aplatform of rock slabs, fused to support a palace of toweringyellow-white wallsand curved cups of domes, a palace which was alsohalf fortress, half frontier post.Dane set his hands on the parapet of the river drop, blinked as alightning bolt crackled in a sky-splitting glare of violet fire. Thiswasabout as far from the steaming islands of Xecho as a man couldimagine."The demon graz prepare for battle." Asaki nodded toward the distantcrackling.Captain Jellico laughed. "Supposed to be whetting their tusks, eh?Iwouldn't care to meet a graz that could produce such a display by meretusk whetting.""No? But think of the reward for the tracker who discovers where such goto die. To find the graveyard of the graz herds wouldmake any manwealthy beyond dreams.""How much truth is there in that legend?" Tau asked.The Chief Ranger shrugged. "Who can say? This much _is_ true: I haveserved my life in the forests since I could walk. I havelistened to thetalk of Trackers, Hunters, Rangers in my father's courtyards and fieldcamps since I could understand their words. Yet never has any manreported the finding of a body of a graz that died a natural death.Thescavengers might well account for the bulk of flesh, but the tusks andthe bones should be visible for years. And this, too, I have seen withmy own eyes: a graz close to death, supported by two of its kind andbeingurged along to the big swamps. Perhaps it is only that thesuffering animal longs for water at its end, or perhaps in the heart ofthat morass there does lie the graz graveyard. But no man has found anaturally dead graz,


ï»¿Project Gutenberg's The Maid of Sker, by Richard Doddridge BlackmoreThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away orre-use itunder the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.orgTitle: The Maid of SkerAuthor: Richard Doddridge BlackmoreRelease Date: July 1, 2014 [EBook#46156]Language: EnglishCharacter set encoding: UTF-8*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAID OF SKER ***Produced by Matthias Grammel, sp1nd and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Teamat http://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive)                        THE MAID OF SKER.[Illustration: "_All for captain, crew and cargo, was a littlehelplesschild._"]                        THE MAID OF SKER.                               BY                         R. D. BLACKMORE,                            AUTHOR OF      'LORNA DOONE,' 'CLARA VAUGHAN,' AND 'CRADOCKNOWELL.'         á¾½Îá¿¥á¿¥Îµ, Î¸ÎµÎ¿á¿ÏÎ¯Î½ Ïá¾½ á¼ÏÎ¸Ïá¼, Îºá¼Î¹ á¼Î½Î¸ÏÏÏÎ¿Î¹ÏÎ¹Î½ á¼ ÏÎ¹ÏÏÎµ,             ÏÏ ÏÏá¿³ á½Ï á¼Î½ Îºá½Î»Ïá¿² ÏÎ¿á¼±ÎºÎ¯Î»Î¿Î½á¼Î¹ÏÎµÏ á½ ÏÎ¹Î½.]                           NEW EDITION,                      WITH A FRONTISPIECE.                  WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS                     EDINBURGH ANDLONDON                          MDCCCXCIIICONTENTS     CHAP.                                          PAGE        I. FISHERMAN DAVY A FISH OUT OF WATER,         1       II. HUNGER DRIVES HIM A-FISHING,                3      III.THE FISH ARE AS HUNGRY AS HE IS,            7       IV. HE LANDS AN UNEXPECTED FISH,               12        V. A LITTLE ORPHAN MERMAID,                   15       VI. FINDS A HOME OF SOME SORT,                 21      VII.BOAT _VERSUS_ BARDIE,                      27     VIII. CHILDREN WILL BE CHILDREN,                 32       IX. SANDHILLS TURNED TO SAND-HOLES,            38        X. UNDER THE ROCK,                            44       XI. AWRECKER WRECKED,                         49      XII. HOW TO SELL FISH,                          57     XIII. THE CORONER AND THE CORONET,               64      XIV. IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE EVIDENCE,           70       XV. AVERDICT ON THE JURY,                     76      XVI. TRUTH LIES SOMETIMES IN A WELL,            81     XVII. FOR A LITTLE CHANGE OF AIR,                89    XVIII. PUBLIC APPROBATION,                        97      XIX. ACRAFT BEYOND THE LAW,                   106       XX. CONFIDENTIAL INTERCOURSE,                 112      XXI. CROSS-EXAMINATION,                        119     XXII. ANOTHER DISAPPOINTMENT,                   125    XXIII.INTO GOOD SOCIETY,                        131     XXIV. SOUND INVESTMENTS,                        137      XXV. A LONG GOOD-BYE,                          145     XXVI. BRAUNTON BURROWS,                         151    XXVII. A FINESPECTACLE,                         158   XXVIII. SOMETHING ABOUT HIM,                      164     XXIX. A VISIT TO A PARSON,                      171      XXX. ON DUTY,                                  182     XXXI. TWOLOVERS,                               189    XXXII. AMONG THE SAVAGES,                        194   XXXIII. IN A STATE OF NATURE,                     203    XXXIV. WAITING AND LEARNING,                     212     XXXV. THE POLITEFERRYMAN,                      220    XXXVI. UNDER FAIRER AUSPICES,                    227   XXXVII. TWO POOR CHILDREN,                        234  XXXVIII. A FINE OLD GENTLEMAN,                     241    XXXIX. NOTICE TOQUIT,                           250       XL. FORCIBLE EJECTMENT,                       257      XLI. THE RIGHT MAN IN THE RIGHT PLACE,         267     XLII. THE LITTLE MAID AND THE MIDSHIPMAN,       276    XLIII. A FINEPRICE FOR BARDIE,                  283     XLIV. PROVIDES FOR EDUCATION,                   292      XLV. INTRODUCES A REAL HERO,                   298     XLVI. AFTER SEVEN YEARS,                        305    XLVII. MISCHIEFIN A HOUSEHOLD,                  312   XLVIII. A BREATHLESS DISINTERMENT,                320     XLIX. ONE WHO HAS INTERRED HIMSELF,             327        L. A BRAVE MAN RUNS AWAY,                    334       LI. TRIPLEEDUCATION,                         341      LII. GREAT MARCH OF INTELLECT,                 347     LIII. BEATING UP FOR THE NAVY,                  356      LIV. TAMING OF THE SAVAGES,                    368       LV. UPONFOREIGN SERVICE,                     374      LVI. EXILES OF SOCIETY,                        380     LVII. MANY WEAK MOMENTS,                        387    LVIII. MORE HASTE, LESS SPEED,                   398      LIX. IN A ROCKYBOWER,                         403       LX. NELSON AND THE NILE,                      411      LXI. A SAVAGE DEED,                            415     LXII. A RASH YOUNG CAPTAIN,                     421    LXIII. POLLY ATHOME,                            430     LXIV. SUSAN QUITE ACQUITS HERSELF,              438      LXV. SO DOES POOR OLD DAVY,                    447     LXVI. THE MAID AT LAST IS "DENTIFIED,"          453    LXVII. DOG EATSDOG,                             458   LXVIII. THE OLD PITCHER AT THE WELL AGAIN,        465THE MAID OF SKER.CHAPTER I.FISHERMAN DAVY A FISH OUT OF WATER.I am but an ancient fisherman upon the coast ofGlamorganshire, withwork enough of my own to do, and trouble enough of my own to heed, ingetting my poor living. Yet no peace there is for me among my friendsand neighbours, unless I will set to and try--as theybid me twice a-dayperhaps--whether I cannot tell the rights of a curious adventure whichit pleased Providence should happen, off and on, amidst us, now for agood many years, and with many ins and outs to it. Theyassure me, also,that all good people who can read and write for ten, or it may betwenty, miles around the place I live in, will buy my book--if I canmake it--at a higher price, perhaps, per lb., than they would givemeeven for sewin, which are the very best fish I catch: and henceprovision may be found for the old age and infirmities, now gaining uponme, every time I try to go out fishing.In this encouragement and prospect Ihave little faith, knowing how muchmore people care about what they eat than what they read. Nevertheless Iwill hope for the best, especially as my evenings now are very long andwearisome; and I was counted ahopeful scholar, fifty years agoneperhaps, in our village school here--not to mention the Royal Navy; andmost of all, because a very wealthy gentleman, whose name will appear inthis story, has promised to pay allexpenses, and Â£50 down (if I do itwell), and to leave me the profit, if any.Notwithstanding this, the work of writing must be very dull to me,after all the change of scene, and the open air and sea, and the manyspreesashore, and the noble fights with Frenchmen, and the power ofoaths that made me jump so in his Majesty's navy. God save the King, andQueen, and members of the Royal Family, be they as many as theywill--and theyseem, in faith, to be manifold. But His power is equal toit all, if they will but try to meet Him.However, not to enter upon any view of politics--all of which are farbeyond the cleverest hand at a bait among us--I aminditing of a thingvery plain and simple, when you come to understand it; yet containing alittle strangeness, and some wonder, here and there, and apt to movegood people's grief at the wrongs we do one another.Great part of itfell under mine own eyes, for a period of a score of years, or somethingthereabout. My memory still is pretty good; but if I contradict myself,or seem to sweep beyond my reach, or in any way to meddlewith thingswhich I had better have let alone, as a humble man and a Christian, Ipray you to lay the main fault thereof on the badness of the times, andthe rest upon human nature. For I have been a roving man, andmay havegathered much of evil from contact with my fellow-men, although byorigin meant for good. In this I take some blame to myself; for if I hadpolished my virtue well, the evil could not have stuck toit.Nevertheless, I am, on the whole, pretty well satisfied with myself;hoping to be of such quality as the Lord prefers to those perfectcreatures with whom He has no trouble at all, and therefore noenjoyment.Butsometimes, taking up a book, I am pestered with a troop of doubts;not only about my want of skill, and language, and experience, butchiefly because I never have been a man of consummate innocence,excellence, andhigh wisdom, such as all these writers are, if we go bytheir own opinions.Now, when I plead among my neighbours, at the mouth of the old well, allthe above, my sad shortcomings, and my own strong sense of them(whichperhaps is somewhat over-strong), they only pat me on the back, andsmile at one another, and make a sort of coughing noise, according to mybashfulness. And then if I look pleased (which for my life I cannothelpdoing), they wink, as it were, at one another, and speak up like this:--"Now, Davy, you know better. You think yourself at least as good as anyone of us, Davy, and likely far above us all. Therefore, Davythefisherman, out with all you have to say, without any French palaver.You have a way of telling things so that we can see them."With this, and with that, and most of all with hinting about aFrenchman, they put me onmy mettle, so that I sit upon the side-stonesof the old-well gallery (which are something like the companion-rail ofa fore-and-after), and gather them around me, with the householders putforemost, according to theirincome, and the children listening betweentheir legs; and thus I begin, but never end, the tale I now begin toyou, and perhaps shall never end it.CHAPTER II.HUNGER DRIVES HIM A-FISHING.In the summer of the year1782, I, David Llewellyn, of Newton-Nottage,fisherman and old sailor, was in great distress and trouble, more than Ilike to tell you. My dear wife (a faithful partner for eight-and-twentyyears, in spite of a very quicktemper) was lately gone to a betterworld; and I missed her tongue and her sharp look-out at almost everycorner. Also my son (as fine a seaman as ever went aloft), after helpingLord Rodney to his great victory overGrass the Frenchman, had been lostin a prize-ship called the Tonner, of 54 guns and 500 Crappos, whichsank with all hands on her way home to Spithead, under Admiral Graves.His young wife (who had been sent to usto see to, with his blessing) nosooner heard of this sad affair as in the Gazette reported, and his paythat week stopped on her, but she fell into untimely travail, and wasdead ere morning. So I buried my wife anddaughter-in-law, and lost allchance to bury my son, between two Bridgend market-days.Now this is not very much, of course, compared with the troubles somepeople have. But I had not been used to this matter,except in case of amessmate; and so I was greatly broken down, and found my eyes so weak ofa morning, that I would not be seen out of doors, almost.The only one now to keep a stir or sound of life in my littlecottage,which faces to the churchyard, was my orphan grandchild "Bunny,"daughter of my son just drowned, and his only child that we knew of.Bunny was a rare strong lass, five years old about then, I think; astoutand hearty-feeding child, able to chew every bit of her victuals,and mounting a fine rosy colour, and eyes as black as Archangel pitch.One day, when I was moping there, all abroad about my bearings, and nobetter thanwater-ballasted, the while I looked at my wife's new broom,now carrying cobweb try-sails, this little Bunny came up to me as if shehad a boarding-pike, and sprang into the netting hammocks of the bestblack coat Iwore."Grand-da!" she said, and looked to know in what way I would look ather; "Grand-da, I must have sumkin more to eat.""Something more to eat!" I cried, almost with some astonishment, well asI knew herappetite; for the child had eaten a barley-loaf, and twopig's feet, and a dog-fish."Yes, more; more bexfass, grand-da." And though she had not the words totell, she put her hands in a way that showed me she ought tohave moresolid food. I could not help looking sadly at her, proud as I was of herappetite. But, recovering in a minute or two, I put a good face upon it."My dear, and you shall have more," I said; "only take your feet outofmy pocket. Little heart have I for fishing, God knows; but a-fishing Iwill go this day, if mother Jones will see to you."For I could not leave her alone quite yet, although she was a bravelittle maid, and no fire now wasburning. But within a child's trot frommy door, and down toward the sandhills, was that famous ancient well ofwhich I spoke just now, dedicate to St John the Baptist, where they usedto scourge themselves. The villagechurch stood here, they say, beforethe inroad of the sand; and the water was counted holy. How that may be,I do not know; but the well is very handy. It has a little grey roundtower of stone domed over the heart of it,to which a covered way goesdown, with shallow steps irregular. If it were not for this plan, thesand would whelm the whole of it over; even as it has overwhelmed allthe departure of the spring, and the cottages oncesurrounding it. Downthese steps the children go, each with a little brown pitcher, holdinghands and groping at the sides, as they begin to feel darker. And whatwith the sand beneath their feet, and the narrowing of theroof above,and the shadows moving round them, and the doubt where the water beginsor ends (which nobody knows at any time), it is much but what somelittle maid tumbles in, and the rest have to pull her outagain.For this well has puzzled all the country, and all the men of greatlearning, being as full of contrariety as a maiden courted. It comes andgoes, in a manner, against the coming and going of the sea, which isonlyhalf a mile from it; and twice in a day it is many feet deep, andagain not as many inches. And the water is so crystal-clear, that downin the dark it is like a dream. Some people say that John the Baptisthad nothing to dowith the making of it, because it was made before histime by the ancient family of De Sandford, who once owned all the manorshere. In this, however, I place no faith, having read my Bible to betterpurpose than tobelieve that John Baptist was the sort of man to claimanything, least of all any water, unless he came honestly by it.In either case, it is very pretty to see the children round the entranceon a summer afternoon, whenthey are sent for water. They are all alittle afraid of it, partly because of its maker's name, and his havinghis head on a charger, and partly on account of its curious ways, andthe sand coming out of its "nostrils" whenfirst it begins to flow.That day with which I begin my story, Mrs Jones was good enough to takecharge of little Bunny; and after getting ready to start, I set thethong of our latch inside, so that none but neighbours whoknew thetrick could enter our little cottage (or rather "mine" I should saynow); and thus with conger-rod, and prawn-net, and a long pole for thebass, and a junk of pressed tobacco, and a lump of barley-bread, andamaybird stuffed with onions (just to refine the fishiness), away I setfor a long-shore day, upon as dainty a summer morn as ever shone out ofthe heavens."Fisherman Davy" (as they call me all around our parts) wasfifty andtwo years of age, I believe, that very same July, and with all my heartI wish that he were as young this very day. For I never have found suchcall to enter into the affairs of another world, as to forgetmybusiness here, or press upon Providence impatiently for a more heavenlystate of things. People may call me worldly-minded for cherishing such aview of this earth; and perhaps it is not right of me. However, Icanput up with it, and be in no unkindly haste to say "good-bye" to myneighbours. For, to my mind, such a state of seeking, as many amongst usdo even boast of, is, unless in a bad cough or a perilous calenture,acertain proof of curiosity displeasing to our Maker, and I might evensay of fickleness degrading to a true Briton.The sun came down upon my head, so that I thought of bygone days, when Iserved under Captain Howe,or Sir Edward Hawke, and used to stroll awayupon leave, with half a hundred Jacks ashore, at Naples, or in Bermudas,or wherever the luck might happen. Now, however, was no time for me tothink of strolling, becauseI could no longer live at the expense of theGovernment, which is the highest luck of all, and full of noble dignity.Things were come to such a push that I must either work or starve; andcould I but recall the past, I wouldstroll less in the days gone by. Apension of one and eightpence farthing for the weeks I was alive (beingin right of a heavy wound in capture of the Bellona, Frenchman oftwo-and-thirty guns, by his Majesty's frigateVesta, under Captain Hood)was all I had to hold on by, in support of myself and Bunny, except theslippery fish that come and go as Providence orders them. She had sailedfrom Martinique, when luckily we fell in withher; and I never shallforget the fun, and the five hours at close quarters. We could see thepowder on the other fellows' faces while they were training their gunsat us, and we showed them, with a slap, our noses, whichthey nevercontrived to hit. She carried heavier metal than ours, and had sixtymore men to work it, and therefore we were obliged at last to captureher by boarding. I, like a fool, was the first that leaped intohermizen-chains, without looking before me, as ought to have been. TheFrenchmen came too fast upon me, and gave me more than I bargained for.Thus it happened that I fell off, in the very prime of life andstrength,from an able-bodied seaman and captain of the foretop to asort of lurcher along shore, and a man who must get his own living withnets and rods and suchlike. For that very beautiful fight took place inthe year 1759,before I was thirty years old, and before his presentmost gracious Majesty came to the throne of England. And inasmuch as avillanous Frenchman made at me with a cutlash, and a power of blue oaths(taking a nastyadvantage of me, while I was yet entangled), and thumpedin three of my ribs before a kind Providence enabled me to relieve himof his head at a blow--I was discharged, when we came to Spithead, withan excellentcharacter in a silk bag, and a considerable tightness ofbreathing, and leave to beg my way home again.Now I had not the smallest meaning to enter into any of theseparticulars about myself, especially as my story mustbe all about otherpeople--beautiful maidens, and fine young men, and several of the primegentry. But as I have written it, so let it stay; because, perhaps,after all, it is well that people should have some littleknowledge ofthe man they have to deal with, and learn that his character andposition are a long way above all attempt at deceit.To come back once again, if you please, to that very hot day of July1782--whence I meanto depart no more until I have fully done withit--both from the state of the moon, I knew, and from the neap when mywife went off, that the top of the spring was likely to be in the duskof that same evening. At first Ihad thought of going down straightbelow us to Newton Bay, and peddling over the Black Rocks towards theOgmore river, some two miles to the east of us. But the bright sun gaveme more enterprise; and rememberinghow the tide would ebb, also how lowmy pocket was, I felt myself bound in honour to Bunny to make a realpush for it, and thoroughly search the conger-holes and thelobster-ledges, which are the best on all our coast,round about PoolTavan, and down below the old house at Sker.CHAPTER III.THE FISH ARE AS HUNGRY AS HE IS.To fish at Sker had always been a matter of some risk and conflict;inasmuch as Evan Thomas, who livedin the ancient house there, and keptthe rabbit-warren, never could be brought to know that the sea did notbelong to him. He had a grant from the manor, he said, and the shore waspart of the manor; and whosoevercame hankering there was a poacher, athief, and a robber. With these hard words, and harder blows, he keptoff most of the neighbourhood; but I always felt that the lurch of thetide was no more than the heeling of aship, and therefore that any onefree of the sea, was free of the ebb and flow of it.So when he began to reproach me once, I allowed him to swear himselfthoroughly out, and then, in a steadfast manner, said, "BlackEvan, theshore is not mine or yours. Stand you here and keep it, and I will nevercome again;" for in three hours' time there would be a fathom of waterwhere we stood. And when he caught me again, I answered, "EvanBlack, ifyou catch me inland, meddling with any of your land-goods, coneys, orhares, or partridges, give me a leathering like a man, and I must put upwith it; but dare you touch me on this shore, which belongs to ourlordthe King, all the way under high-water mark, and by the rod of the RedSea I will show you the law of it."He looked at me and the pole I bore, and, heavy and strong man as hewas, he thought it wiser to speak me


ï»¿Project Gutenberg's Captain Brassbound's Conversion, by George Bernard ShawThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it awayorre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.orgTitle: Captain Brassbound's ConversionAuthor: George Bernard ShawPosting Date: January 17, 2009[EBook #3418]Release Date: September, 2002Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTAIN BRASSBOUND'S CONVERSION ***Produced by Eve SobolCAPTAIN BRASSBOUND'SCONVERSIONBy Bernard ShawACT IOn the heights overlooking the harbor of Mogador, a seaport on the westcoast of Morocco, the missionary, in the coolness of the late afternoon,is following the precept of Voltaire bycultivating his garden. He isan elderly Scotchman, spiritually a little weatherbeaten, as having tonavigate his creed in strange waters crowded with other craft but stilla convinced son of the Free Church and the NorthAfrican Mission, witha faithful brown eye, and a peaceful soul. Physically a wiry small-knitman, well tanned, clean shaven, with delicate resolute features anda twinkle of mild humor. He wears the sun helmet and pagri,theneutral-tinted spectacles, and the white canvas Spanish sand shoes ofthe modern Scotch missionary: but instead of a cheap tourist's suit fromGlasgow, a grey flannel shirt with white collar, a green sailor knot tiewitha cheap pin in it, he wears a suit of clean white linen, acceptablein color, if not in cut, to the Moorish mind.The view from the garden includes much Atlantic Ocean and a long stretchof sandy coast to the south, swept bythe north east trade wind,and scantily nourishing a few stunted pepper trees, mangy palms, andtamarisks. The prospect ends, as far as the land is concerned, inlittle hills that come nearly to the sea: rudiments, these,of the AtlasMountains. The missionary, having had daily opportunities of looking atthis seascape for thirty years or so, pays no heed to it, being absorbedin trimming a huge red geranium bush, to English eyesunnaturallybig, which, with a dusty smilax or two, is the sole product of his petflower-bed. He is sitting to his work on a Moorish stool. In the middleof the garden there is a pleasant seat in the shade of a tamarisktree.The house is in the south west corner of the garden, and the geraniumbush in the north east corner.At the garden-door of the house there appears presently a man who isclearly no barbarian, being in fact a lessagreeable product peculiarto modern commercial civilization. His frame and flesh are those of anill-nourished lad of seventeen; but his age is inscrutable: only theabsence of any sign of grey in his mud colored hairsuggests that he isat all events probably under forty, without prejudice to the possibilityof his being under twenty. A Londoner would recognize him at once as anextreme but hardy specimen of the abortion produced bynature in a cityslum. His utterance, affectedly pumped and hearty, and naturally vulgarand nasal, is ready and fluent: nature, a Board School education, andsome kerbstone practice having made him a bit of an orator.His dialect,apart from its base nasal delivery, is not unlike that of smart Londonsociety in its tendency to replace diphthongs by vowels (sometimesrather prettily) and to shuffle all the traditional vowelpronunciations. Hepronounces ow as ah, and i as aw, using the ordinaryow for o, i for a, a for u, and e for a, with this reservation, thatwhen any vowel is followed by an r he signifies its presence, not bypronouncing the r, which he neverdoes under these circumstances, but byprolonging and modifyinq the vowel, sometimes even to the extreme degreeof pronouncing it properly. As to his yol for l (a compendious deliveryof the provincial eh-al), andother metropolitan refinements, amazing toall but cockneys, they cannot be indicated, save in the above imperfectmanner, without the aid of a phonetic alphabet. He is dressed insomebody else's very second best as acoast-guardsman, and gives himselfthe airs of a stage tar with sufficient success to pass as a possiblefish porter of bad character in casual employment during busy timesat Billingsgate. His manner shows an earnestdisposition to ingratiatehimself with the missionary, probably for some dishonest purpose.THE MAN. Awtenoon, Mr. Renkin. (The missionary sits up quickly, andturns, resigning himself dutifully to the interruption.) Yrhonor'seolth.RANKIN (reservedly). Good afternoon, Mr. Drinkwotter.DRINKWATER. You're not best pleased to be hinterrupted in yr bit ogawdnin bow the lawk o me, gavner.RANKIN. A missionary knows nothing of leksof that soart, or of dislekseither, Mr. Drinkwotter. What can I do for ye?DRINKWATER (heartily). Nathink, gavner. Awve brort noos fer yer.RANKIN. Well, sit ye doon.DRINKWATER. Aw thenk yr honor. (He sits down onthe seat under the treeand composes himself for conversation.) Hever ear o Jadge Ellam?RANKIN. Sir Howrrd Hallam?DRINKWATER. Thet's im-enginest jadge in Hingland!--awlus gives the ketwen it's robbry withvoylence, bless is awt. Aw sy nathink agin im: awmall fer lor mawseolf, AW em.RANKIN. Well?DRINKWATER. Hever ear of is sist-in-lor: Lidy Sisly Winefleet?RANKIN. Do ye mean the celebrated Leddy--thetraveller?DRINKWATER. Yuss: should think aw doo. Walked acrost Harfricar withnathink but a little dawg, and wrowt abaht it in the Dily Mile (theDaily Mail, a popular London newspaper), she did.RANKIN. Is she SirHowrrd Hallam's sister-in-law?DRINKWATER. Deeceased wawfe's sister: yuss: thet's wot SHE is.RANKIN. Well, what about them?DRINKWATER. Wot abaht them! Waw, they're EAH. Lannid aht of a steamyacht inMogador awber not twenty minnits agow. Gorn to the Britishcornsl's. E'll send em orn to you: e ynt got naowheres to put em. Sor emawr (hire) a Harab an two Krooboys to kerry their laggige. Thort awd caman teollyer.RANKIN. Thank you. It's verra kind of you, Mr. Drinkwotter.DRINKWATER. Down't mention it, gavner. Lor bless yer, wawn't it you asconverted me? Wot was aw wen aw cam eah but a pore lorst sinner? Down'tawow y'a turn fer thet? Besawds, gavner, this Lidy Sisly Winefleet mawtwor't to tike a walk crost Morocker--a rawd inter the mahntns or sechlawk. Weoll, as you knaow, gavner, thet cawn't be done eah withahtahescort.RANKIN. It's impoassible: th' would oall b' murrdered. Morocco is notlek the rest of Africa.DRINKWATER. No, gavner: these eah Moors ez their religion; an it mikesem dinegerous. Hever convert a Moor,gavner?RANKIN (with a rueful smile). No.DRINKWATER (solemnly). Nor never will, gavner.RANKIN. I have been at work here for twenty-five years, Mr. Drinkwotter;and you are my first and only convert.DRINKWATER.Down't seem naow good, do it, gavner?RANKIN. I don't say that. I hope I have done some good. They come to mefor medicine when they are ill; and they call me the Christian who isnot a thief. THAT issomething.DRINKWATER. Their mawnds kennot rawse to Christiennity lawk hahrsken, gavner: thet's ah it is. Weoll, ez haw was syin, if a hescortis wornted, there's maw friend and commawnder Kepn Brarsbahnd oftheschooner Thenksgivin, an is crew, incloodin mawseolf, will see the lidyan Jadge Ellam through henny little excursion in reason. Yr honor mawtmention it.RANKIN. I will certainly not propose anything so dangerous asanexcursion.DRINKWATER (virtuously). Naow, gavner, nor would I awst you to. (Shakinghis head.) Naow, naow: it IS dinegerous. But hall the more call for ahescort if they should ev it hin their mawnds to gow.RANKIN.I hope they won't.DRINKWATER. An sow aw do too, gavner.RANKIN (pondering). 'Tis strange that they should come to Mogador, ofall places; and to my house! I once met Sir Howrrd Hallam, years ago.DRINKWATER(amazed). Naow! didger? Think o thet, gavner! Waw, sow aw didtoo. But it were a misunnerstedin, thet wors. Lef the court withaht astine on maw kerrickter, aw did.RANKIN (with some indignation). I hope you don'tthink I met Sir Howrrdin that way.DRINKWATER. Mawt yeppn to the honestest, best meanin pusson, aw doassure yer, gavner.RANKIN. I would have you to know that I met him privately, Mr.Drinkwotter. His brotherwas a dear friend of mine. Years ago. He wentout to the West Indies.DRINKWATER. The Wust Hindies! Jist acrost there, tather sawd thethowcean (pointing seaward)! Dear me! We cams hin with vennity, an wedeepawtsin dawkness. Down't we, gavner?RANKIN (pricking up his ears). Eh? Have you been reading that littlebook I gave you?DRINKWATER. Aw hev, et odd tawms. Very camfitn, gavner. (He rises,apprehensive lest furthercatechism should find him unprepared.) Awllsy good awtenoon, gavner: you're busy hexpectin o Sr Ahrd an Lidy Sisly,ynt yer? (About to go.)RANKIN (stopping him). No, stop: we're oalways ready for travellershere. Ihave something else to say--a question to ask you.DRINKWATER (with a misgiving, which he masks by exaggerating his heartysailor manner). An weollcome, yr honor.RANKIN. Who is this CaptainBrassbound?DRINKWATER (guiltily). Kepn Brarsbahnd! E's-weoll, e's maw Kepn, gavner.RANKIN. Yes. Well?DRINKWATER (feebly). Kepn of the schooner Thenksgivin, gavner.RANKIN (searchingly). Have ye ever hairdof a bad character in theseseas called Black Paquito?DRINKWATER (with a sudden radiance of complete enlightenment). Aoh, naraw tikes yer wiv me, yr honor. Nah sammun es bin a teolln you thet KepnBrarsbahnd anBleck Pakeetow is hawdentically the sime pussn. Ynt thetsow?RANKIN. That is so. (Drinkwater slaps his knee triumphantly. Themissionary proceeds determinedly) And the someone was a verra honest,straightforwardman, as far as I could judge.DRINKWATER (embracing the implication). Course a wors, gavner: Ev awsaid a word agin him? Ev aw nah?RANKIN. But is Captain Brassbound Black Paquito then?DRINKWATER. Waw, it'sthe nime is blessed mather give im at erknee, bless is little awt! Ther ynt naow awm in it. She ware a WustHinjin--howver there agin, yer see (pointing seaward)--leastwaws, naowshe worn't: she were a Brazilian, awthink; an Pakeetow's Brazilian fora bloomin little perrit--awskin yr pawdn for the word. (Sentimentally)Lawk as a Hinglish lidy mawt call er little boy Birdie.RANKIN (not quite convinced). But why BLACKPaquito?DRINKWATER (artlessly). Waw, the bird in its netral stite bein green, ane evin bleck air, y' knaow--RANKIN (cutting him short). I see. And now I will put ye anotherquestion. WHAT is Captain Brassbound, orPaquito, or whatever he callshimself?DRINKWATER (officiously). Brarsbahnd, gavner. Awlus calls isseolfBrarsbahnd.RANKIN. Well. Brassbound, then. What is he?DRINKWATER (fervently). You awsks me wot e is,gavner?RANKIN (firmly). I do.DRINKWATER (with rising enthusiasm). An shll aw teoll yer wot e is, yrhonor?RANKIN (not at all impressed). If ye will be so good, Mr. Drinkwotter.DRINKWATER (with overwhelmingconviction). Then awll teoll you, gavner,wot he is. Ee's a Paffick Genlmn: thet's wot e is.RANKIN (gravely). Mr. Drinkwotter: pairfection is an attribute, notof West Coast captains, but of thr Maaker. And there aregentlemen andgentlemen in the world, espaecially in these latitudes. Which sort ofgentleman is he?DRINKWATER. Hinglish genlmn, gavner. Hinglish speakin; Hinglish fawther;West Hinjin plawnter; Hinglish true bluebreed. (Reflectively) Tech obrahn from the mather, preps, she bein Brazilian.RANKIN. Now on your faith as a Christian, Felix Drinkwotter, is CaptainBrassbound a slaver or not?DRINKWATER (surprised into his naturalcockney pertness). Naow e ynt.RANKIN. Are ye SURE?DRINKWATER. Waw, a sliver is abaht the wanne thing in the wy of a genlmno fortn thet e YNT.RANKIN. I've haird that expression "gentleman of fortune" before,Mr.Drinkwotter. It means pirate. Do ye know that?DRINKWATER. Bless y'r awt, y' cawnt be a pawrit naradys. Waw, the awseas is wuss pleest nor Piccadilly Suckus. If aw was to do orn thetthere Hetlentic Howcean thethings aw did as a bwoy in the WorterleooRowd, awd ev maw air cat afore aw could turn maw ed. Pawrit beblaowed!--awskink yr pawdn, gavner. Nah, jest to shaow you ah littlethet there striteforard man y' midemention on knaowed wot e was atorkinabaht: oo would you spowse was the marster to wich Kepn Brarsbahndserved apprentice, as yr mawt sy?RANKIN. I don't know.DRINKWATER. Gawdn, gavner, Gawdn. Gawdn oKawtoom--stetcher stends inTrifawlgr Square to this dy. Trined Bleck Pakeetow in smawshin hap theslive riders, e did. Promist Gawdn e wouldn't never smaggle slives norgin, an (with suppressed aggravation) WOWN'T,gavner, not if we gowsdahn on ahr bloomin bended knees to im to do it.RANKIN (drily). And DO ye go down on your bended knees to him to do it?DRINKWATER (somewhat abashed). Some of huz is hanconverted men,gavner;an they sy: You smaggles wanne thing, Kepn; waw not hanather?RANKIN. We've come to it at last. I thought so. Captain Brassbound is asmuggler.DRINKWATER. Weoll, waw not? Waw not, gavner? Ahrs is aFree Tridenition. It gows agin us as Hinglishmen to see these bloomin furrinerssettin ap their Castoms Ahses and spheres o hinfluence and sich lawkhall owver Arfricar. Daown't Harfricar belong as much to huz as tothem?thet's wot we sy. Ennywys, there ynt naow awm in ahr business. All wedaz is hescort, tourist HOR commercial. Cook's hexcursions to the HatlasMahntns: thet's hall it is. Waw, it's spreadin civlawzytion, it is. Yntitnah?RANKIN. You think Captain Brassbound's crew sufficiently equipped forthat, do you?DRINKWATER. Hee-quipped! Haw should think sow. Lawtnin rawfles, twelveshots in the meggezine! Oo's to storp us?RANKIN.The most dangerous chieftain in these parts, the Sheikh Sidi elAssif, has a new American machine pistol which fires ten bullets withoutloadin; and his rifle has sixteen shots in the magazine.DRINKWATER (indignantly).Yuss; an the people that sells sichthings into the ends o' them eathen bleck niggers calls theirseolvesChristians! It's a crool shime, sow it is.RANKIN. If a man has the heart to pull the trigger, it matters littlewhat colorhis hand is, Mr. Drinkwotter. Have ye anything else to say tome this afternoon?DRINKWATER (rising). Nathink, gavner, cept to wishyer the bust o yolth,and a many cornverts. Awtenoon, gavner.RANKIN. Goodafternoon to ye, Mr. Drinkwotter.As Drinkwater turns to go, a Moorish porter comes from the house withtwo Krooboys.THE PORTER (at the door, addressing Rankin). Bikouros (Moroccan forEpicurus, a general Moorishname for the missionaries, who are supposedby the Moors to have chosen their calling through a love of luxuriousidleness): I have brought to your house a Christian dog and his woman.DRINKWATER. There's eathenmenners fer yer! Calls Sr Ahrd Ellam an LidyWinefleet a Christian dorg and is woman! If ee ed you in the dorcket the Centl Crimnal, you'd fawnd aht oo was the dorg and oo was ismarster, pretty quick, youwould.RANKIN. Have you broat their boxes?THE PORTER. By Allah, two camel loads!RANKIN. Have you been paid?THE PORTER. Only one miserable dollar, Bikouros. I have brought them toyour house. They will payyou. Give me something for bringing gold toyour door.DRINKWATER. Yah! You oughter bin bawn a Christian, you ought. You knaowtoo mach.RANKIN. You have broat onnly trouble and expense to my door, Hassan;andyou know it. Have I ever charged your wife and children for mymedicines?HASSAN (philosophically). It is always permitted by the Prophet to ask,Bikouros. (He goes cheerfully into the house with theKrooboys.)DRINKWATER. Jist thort eed trah it orn, a did. Hooman nitre is the simeeverywheres. Them eathens is jast lawk you an' me, gavner.A lady and gentleman, both English, come into the garden. Thegentleman,more than elderly, is facing old age on compulsion, not resignedly. Heis clean shaven, and has a brainy rectangular forehead, a resolute nosewith strongly governed nostrils, and a tightly fastened downmouth whichhas evidently shut in much temper and anger in its time. He has a habitof deliberately assumed authority and dignity, but is trying to takelife more genially and easily in his character of tourist, whichisfurther borne out by his white hat and summery racecourse attire.The lady is between thirty and forty, tall, very goodlooking,sympathetic, intelligent, tender and humorous, dressed with cunningsimplicity not as abusinesslike, tailor made, gaitered tourist, but asif she lived at the next cottage and had dropped in for tea in blouseand flowered straw hat. A woman of great vitality and humanity, whobegins a casual acquaintance atthe point usually attained by Englishpeople after thirty years acquaintance when they are capable of reachingit at all. She pounces genially on Drinkwater, who is smirking at her,hat in hand, with an air of heartywelcome. The gentleman, on the otherhand, comes down the side of the garden next the house, instinctivelymaintaining a distance between himself and the others.THE LADY (to Drinkwater). How dye do? Are you themissionary?DRINKWATER (modestly). Naow, lidy, aw will not deceive you, thow themistike his but netral. Awm wanne of the missionary's good works,lidy--is first cornvert, a umble British seaman--countrymen oyours,lidy, and of is lawdship's. This eah is Mr. Renkin, the bust worker inthe wust cowst vawnyawd. (Introducing the judge) Mr. Renkin: is lawdshipSr Ahrd Ellam. (He withdraws discreetly into the house.)SIR HOWARD(to Rankin). I am sorry to intrude on you, Mr. Rankin; but inthe absence of a hotel there seems to be no alternative.LADY CICELY (beaming on him). Besides, we would so much RATHER stay withyou, if you will have us,Mr. Rankin.SIR HOWARD (introducing her). My sister-in-law, Lady Cicely Waynflete,Mr. Rankin.RANKIN. I am glad to be of service to your leddyship. You will bewishing to have some tea after your journey, I'mthinking.LADY CICELY. Thoughtful man that you are, Mr. Rankin! But we've hadsome already on board the yacht. And I've arranged everything with yourservants; so you must go on gardening just as if we were nothere.SIR HOWARD. I am sorry to have to warn you, Mr. Rankin, that LadyCicely, from travelling in Africa, has acquired a habit of walking intopeople's houses and behaving as if she were in her own.LADY CICELY. But,my dear Howard, I assure you the natives like it.RANKIN (gallantly). So do I.LADY CICELY (delighted). Oh, that is so nice of you, Mr. Rankin. Thisis a delicious country! And the people seem so good! They have suchnicefaces! We had such a handsome Moor to carry our luggage up! And twoperfect pets of Krooboys! Did you notice their faces, Howard?SIR HOWARD. I did; and I can confidently say, after a long experience offaces of theworst type looking at me from the dock, that I have neverseen so entirely villainous a trio as that Moor and the two Krooboys, towhom you gave five dollars when they would have been perfectly satisfiedwithone.RANKIN (throwing up his hands). Five dollars! 'Tis easy to see you arenot Scotch, my leddy.LADY CICELY. Oh, poor things, they must want it more than we do; and youknow, Howard, that Mahometans never spendmoney in drink.RANKIN. Excuse me a moment, my leddy. I have a word in season to say tothat same Moor. (He goes into the house.)LADY CICELY (walking about the garden, looking at the view and at theflowers). Ithink this is a perfectly heavenly place.Drinkwater returns from the house with a chair.DRINKWATER (placing the chair for Sir Howard). Awskink yr pawdn for thelibbety, Sr Ahrd.SIR HOWARD (looking a him). I haveseen you before somewhere.DRINKWATER. You ev, Sr Ahrd. But aw do assure yer it were hall amistike.SIR HOWARD. As usual. (He sits down.) Wrongfully convicted, of course.DRINKWATER (with sly delight). Naow,gavner. (Half whispering, with anineffable grin) Wrorngfully hacquittid!SIR HOWARD. Indeed! That's the first case of the kind I have ever met.DRINKWATER. Lawd, Sr Ahrd, wot jagginses them jurymen was! You anmeknaowed it too, didn't we?SIR HOWARD. I daresay we did. I am sorry to say I forget the exactnature of the difficulty you were in. Can you refresh my memory?DRINKWATER. Owny the aw sperrits o youth, y'lawdship. Worterleoo Rowdkice. Wot they calls Ooliganism.SIR HOWARD. Oh! You were a Hooligan, were you?LADY CICELY (puzzled). A Hooligan!DRINKWATER (deprecatingly). Nime giv huz pore thortless leds baw agenton the Dily Chrornicle, lidy. (Rankin returns. Drinkwater immediatelywithdraws, stopping the missionary for a moment near the threshold tosay, touching his forelock) Awll eng abaht within ile, gavner, hin kiceawshould be wornted. (He goes into the house with soft steps.)Lady Cicely sits down on the bench under the tamarisk. Rankin takes hisstool from the flowerbed and sits down on her left, Sir Howard being onher right.LADY


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                           50/50 (I'M WITH CANCER)                                                         Written by                               WillReiser                                                                                7/2/08          FADE IN:                                   OPENING TITLESEQUENCE                                                            EXT. SAN DIEGO - DAY                                   It's another picture perfect day in San Diego. The beaches,          golf courses, and yacht clubs arepacked with hundreds of          rapturous citizens.                                                            EXT. BUS STOP - DAY                                   A BUS pulls up and unloads it'spassengers.                                   We follow ADAM SCHWARTZ(25), a kind faced, mild mannered,          pragmatist - who despite his youth has the cynicism of an old          man. He steps off the bus, crosses thestreet and approaches          MOUNT SINAI HOSPITAL.                                                            INT. MOUNT SINAI HOSPITAL - DAY                                   Adam enters the Hospital. The mood iscalm. All the chaos one          would expect to find in a hospital of this size is tucked          away behind the sterile and monochrome walls.                                   Adam walks to the reception counter. TheRECEPTIONIST is          engrossed with the latest edition of US Weekly. She ignores          Adam who just stands there awkwardly, unsure of what to do.                                   Adam gives out a small cough to grabher attention. The          Receptionist keeps her eyes fixed on her magazine.                                                   RECEPTIONIST           Can I helpyou?                                                   ADAM           I have anappointment.                                                   RECEPTIONIST           Name?                                                   ADAM           Adam Schwartz.                                   The Receptionist says nothing.Adam stands silent, not          knowing what to do. He coughs again.                                   Annoyed, the Receptionist looks up but saysnothing.           2.                                                                            ADAM (CONT'D)                          (CONFUSED)           Um, am I supposed to gosomewhere?                                   With her eyes the Receptionist points to the waiting area.                                                   ADAM (CONT'D)           Oh, should I go sit?                                   TheReceptionist rolls her eyes and returns to her magazine.                                   Adam looks around the empty waiting room. He takes a seat and          browses through a dozen outdated magazines: Highlights,Time,          Life, Modern Maternity, etc. Only moments later, as though he          hadn't just introduced himself, the Receptionist calls out:                                                   RECEPTIONIST           AdamSchwartz.                                   Adam looks around the waiting room. There's no one else          there. Again the receptionist calls out again -                                                   RECEPTIONIST(CONT'D)           Adam Schwartz.                                                   ADAM           Yeah, that's me.                                                   RECEPTIONIST           Followme.                                   The Receptionist leads Adam to a small changing room and          hands him a hospital gown.                                                   RECEPTIONIST (CONT'D)           Put thison.                                                   ADAM           Do I need to take off all my           clothes?                                   The Receptionist stares blankly at Adam.                                                   ADAM(CONT'D)           I'll figure it out.                                   The Receptionist leaves. Adam awkwardly undresses and slips          on the hospital gown. Unsure which end of the gown is the          front, Adam adjuststhe garment a few times until he decides          he has it right.                                   Adam pulls back the curtain of the changing room to find          JOANNE, an overly cheerynurse.           3.                                                                            NURSE JOANNE           Hi Adam, my name is Joanne, so nice           to meet you.                                   Adam scratches hischest, the hospital gown is beginning to          irritate his skin.                                                   ADAM           You don't happen to have anything           in a cottonblend?                                                   NURSE JOANNE                          (LAUGHS)           Cotton. You're funny.                                   Joanne hands Adam a giant specimen cup marked with athick          yellow line.                                    NURSE JOANNE (CONT'D)           Now I'm going to need you to fill           this cup with urine. You think you           can dothat?                                                   ADAM           You want me to fill this entire           cup.                                                   JOANNE           Yup.                                   Adam looks down atthe cup in total disbelief.                                                   ADAM           It's gonna take me at least a week           to fill this. Can I take ithome?                                                   JOANNE                          (LAUGHS)           Take it home. You're so funny.                                   The CAMERA PANS to reveal a group of MEDICALSTUDENTS taking          diligent notes in the background. WE PAN AGAIN this time to          the next room:                                                            INT. HOSPITAL. BATHROOM                                   Adamstruggles to fill the cup. After a few beats, there's a          knock on the door.                                    JOANNE (O.S.)           You okay in thereAdam?           4.                                                                            ADAM           Just another minute.                                   Adam looks down at the empty cup in frustration. TheCAMERA          PANS to the next room:                                                            INT. HOSPITAL. X-RAY ROOM                                   Adam stands in front of an X-Ray machine. TheAPATHETIC          TECHNICIAN has him stand in a dozen uncomfortable positions          for long periods of time: sideways, one arm in the air, then          the other arm, on one leg, then the other, one leg inthe          air, then the other, and so on.                                   Again we see the group of Medical Students taking notes. The          CAMERA PANS to the next room:                                                            INT.HOSPITAL. EXAMINING ROOM                                   Joanne pulls out a giant needle.                                                   JOANNE           Here comes the choo-choo!                                   In the backwe see the Med Students still taking notes. The          CAMERA PANS to the next room:                                                            INT. HOSPITAL. MRI ROOM                                   Adam is lying on the gurneyof an MRI machine. He is slowly          drawn into the enclosed body scanner.                                                   TECHNICIAN                          (AUTHORITATIVELY)           Now make sure you liecompletely           still. Otherwise we'll have to do           it all over again. Which we're not           going to have to do, right?                                                            INT. HOSPITAL. MRI ROOM -LATER                                   Adam lies perfectly still in the enclosed body scanner.                                                   ADAM           Hello? Is anybody out there?                                   There's no onethere. He's been left unattended. The MRI          Technician is watching the Laker game in the next room.           5.                                                                            ADAM (CONT'D)           I haveto pee.                                   The Med Students continue to take notes.                                   END OPENING TITLE SEQUENCE                                                            EXT. SAN DIEGO -EVENING                                   Through the window of the hospital the CAMERA PULLS OUT and          PANS across the San Diego skyline. We watch as the Sun sets          to night, then rises tomorning...                                                            EXT. SAN DIEGO BEACH - MORNING                                                  SUPER: JUNE                                   It's a gray morning as the thickspring fog slowly begins to          lift. With no one in sight, the only sound that can be heard          is that of the waves crashing onto the shoreline and then          rolling back out to the PacificOcean.                                   About a mile inland, we come upon:                                                            EXT. GRAND VIEW GATED COMMUNITY - DAY                                   Rows of identical two andthree bedroom town houses with          lawns groomed to perfection fill the community. This is          Southern California Suburbia.                                   The sound of the waves crashing gets increasingly louderand          louder as we PUSH IN ON:                                                            INT. ADAM'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS                                   The interior of Adam's house is spotless. Pictures on the          walls:Adam and his dad sailing. Adam and his parents at his          Bar Mitzvah. Adam and his best friend, Seth, at High School          Graduation. A University of Berkeley hat. A National Academic          Achievement Awardin the Sciences.                                   Curled in a fetal position, Adam sleeps peacefully next to          RACHEL (25), his loving girlfriend. Cute, charming, and          artsy, Rachel is "Winnie Cooper" all grownup.                                   The sound of the waves crashing stops abruptly. A loud          obnoxious alarm clock goes off. Startled, Adam jumps up.          Drenched in sweat, and completely disoriented, helooks          around in confusion.           6.                                                            After a moment, Adam pulls an earplug out of each ear, and          turns off the alarm. The sound of the crashing wavesturns          back on. Adam pushes a button on the alarm clock and the          sound of the waves stops, but the loud obnoxious alarm          returns. He pushes the clock again. The alarm turns off but          now wehear the sound of crickets chirping. Again Adam pushes          a button, this time we hear the sound of a loud thunder/rain          storm, he pushes a button again, this time we hear the sound          of loud clangingchurch bells. Rachel rolls over -                                                   RACHEL           (asleep and incoherent)           Make it


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<TITLE>"BLADE II" -- byDavid Goyer</TITLE>
     BLADE II -- By David Goyer            EXT. COMMUNITY BLOOD BANK - NIGHT            PULL BACK from a neon red cross ablaze in the coldDecember            night to REVEAL an inner-city, store-front clinic.  Trash and            leaves blow over wet, snowy pavement.            ANGLE ON a PALE FIGURE standing across the street.  He looks            feverish andstrung-out, in serious need of a fix.  This is            JARED NOMAK, 20s.  He starts towards the clinic.            INT. COMMUNITY BLOOD BANK - ENTRANCE - NIGHT            Potential DONORS sit in a waitingarea, filling out forms,            leafing through informational material.  A sign in the window            reads: "Se habla Espanol".  Others read: "YOU ARE MAKING A            DIFFERENCE", "GIVE LIFE", and "BECOME APLATELET DONOR".  We            overhear a bored-looking EMPLOYEE behind the information desk            quizzing someone over the phone:                                EMPLOYEE                      Have you recentlyvisited a tropical                      country?  Uh-huh?  In the past twelve                      months have you gotten a tattoo, non                      sterile acupuncture, or undergone any                      ear, skin or bodypiercing?            We MOVE PAST the employee to Nomak, waiting.                                NURSE (O.S.)                      Jared Nomak?            Nomak looks up.  We get a better look at his face now -he            has a thin scar running from his lower lip down his chin.  A            childhood accident, perhaps.  A NURSE smiles and motions for            him to join her.  She's carrying aclipboard.                                NURSE (CONT'D)                      Hi.  We're ready for you now.            INT. COMMUNITY BLOOD BANK - HALLWAY - NIGHT            Nomak follows the Nurse into adimly-lit hallway.  We track            their progress in a convex safety mirror suspended from the            hallway ceiling as they pass all manner of medical supplies --            centrifuges, an apheresis device,etc.                                NURSE                          (referring to her clipboard)                      I see from your questionnaire that you                      don't have any immediate next ofkin?                                NOMAK                      Not that I'm in contact with.                                NURSE                      Nobody to call in case of anemergency?                                NOMAK                      No --                          (apprehensive)                      Does that mean I can't be a donor?                                NURSE                      Itdepends.  We came up with some                      unusual results on your blood test.            Nomak follows the Nurse to a steel door were TWO SECURITY            GUARDS await them.  Both look bored, paying littleattention            to the monitor which offers a view of the examining room            beyond.  There is also a small window with safety glass.            GUARD #1 opens the door, following Nomak and theNurse            inside.  GUARD #2 remains behind, manning the hallway.            INT. COMMUNITY BLOOD BANK - EXAMINING ROOM - NIGHT            The Nurse ushers Nomak into the room, indicating heshould            sit in a kind of reclining dental chair with arm and            headrests.  Nomak notices a security camera mountedabove.                                NOMAK                          (anxious)                      How unusual?            Beat.  The Nurse sets aside Nomak's file,looking            uncomfortable.                                NURSE                      Your blood has a very rare phenotype,                      one that's quite valuable to peoplelike                      us.                                NOMAK                      Us?  What are you talking about?            A kind-faced DOCTOR enters, nodding to Guard#1.                                DOCTOR                      It's a good news-bad news scenario,                      Jared.  Good news for us, bad for you.            The Doctor and Nurse smile, BARING FANGS.  We realizenow            that they are both vampires.  The Guard, too.  He grips Nomak            by the throat, forcing him back into the restraint chair.  As            the vampire Guard does so, his hand brushes againstNomak's            jaw.  The flesh on Nomak's chin briefly separates along the            scar - almost as if it were a seam.            The guard pauses - and Nomak LAUGHS.  Definitely NOT the            reaction the vampireswere expecting from a potential victim.            Nomak starts to shake and twitch, like he's going into some            kind of seizure.  The whites of his eyes bleed red.  He            throws his head back, opening his mouthas a PAIR OF RAZOR            SHARP CANINES extrude from his gums.  These are longer, much            more lethal-looking than the fangs of the vampires and --            Nomak lashes out, knocking the Guardbackwards.  The Nurse            SCREAMS.  Nomak clamps his mouth onto her throat, SLAMMING            her back against the wall.            The vampire Doctor rushes to the door, scrambling to unbolt            it.  Nomakreaches for him, HOWLING with blood-drunk laughter            as he lifts the Doctor up.  Nomak flings the Doctor about            like a toy, using his body to SMASH the lights, then the            security cameraabove.            INT. COMMUNITY BLOOD BANK - HALLWAY - NIGHT            We hear SCREAMS and HORRIBLE NOISES coming from the examining            room.  Guard #2 draws a gun and looks to thesecurity monitor            with alarm.  The screen goes black.  He looks to the small            window, trying to peer into the now-darkened room beyond --            SPLASH!  A wave of blood smears across a window.  AHAND            wipes a patch of blood away, revealing Nomak's baleful,            distorted eyes.  Guard #2 starts to back away when --            BANG!  Nomak slams against the other side of the steeldoor.            BANG!BANG!BANG!  The door begins to bend, hand-shaped            impressions bulging outward as Nomak starts to peel the door            apart like it was an aluminum can.            Guard #2 has seenenough.  He turns and runs even as the door            CAVES INWARD off its hinges.  Forward momentum sends the door            sliding across the hallway floor where it trips up the Guard.            ON THEDOORWAY            as Nomak steps into the hallway.  Because of the lights            above, there are alternating pools of light and shadow in the            hall.  Nomak advances towards us, his face coming in andout            of darkness.                                NOMAK                      Vampires --            With each pool of light, his awful smile seems to distort            further and further, until his mouth seems to bewidening all            the way back to his ears.                                NOMAK (CONT'D)                      I fucking hate vampires.            On the floor, the vampire Guard CRIES OUT in fear,helplessly            raising his hands to defend himself.  Nomak HOWLS and leaps            towards him/us, blacking out the screen with his hurtling            form as we--                                                                 CUT TO:            EXT. INNER-CITY BACK-ALLEY - NIGHT            BOOM!  A second-story door flies open and FIVE VAMPIRE thug            wannabes comespilling out.  They race down a flight of            stairs, tripping and tumbling over themselves.  In descending            order, they are: RUSH, a pimped-out Vanilla Ice clone wearing            Karl Kani gear, followed byJIGSAW, ST. CLOUD, T-BAG and            SEGURA.            BLADE            exits just behind them, eschewing the stairs completely and            vaulting over the railing.  He unholsters his MACH pistolas            he drops, FIRING it as he lands in a cat-like stance on the            snowy ground below --            BA-BANG!  A silver-tipped bullet punches through T-Bag's            chest.  He turns to ash even as his fellowvamps dash through            the disintegrating cloud that used to be his body.  The            embers melt the snow where they land.            A super-charged foot chase ensues, with hunter and prey            moving atspeeds in excess of anything a human would ever be            capable of.  We're talking thirty-five, even forty miles an            hour.            ON BLADE            Running like a bull, condensed vapor streamingfrom his mouth            and nostrils.  Splashing through puddles of icy water            storming through barriers of plywood and razor wire, leaping            over mountains of garbage bags.            ON THEVAMPIRES            as they flatten a length of cyclone fencing like it was crepe            paper.  They scramble up an obstacle of waste bins, leaping            into the air --            BACK TOBLADE            pulling out his twin-bladed boomerang as he runs.  He flings            the weapon.  It twirls around, catching --            ST. CLOUD IN MID-LEAP            and cutting the vampire completelyin half.  As the            disintegrating halves of St. Cloud fall to the side, Blade            storms over the waste bin.            EXT. INNER-CITY - SECOND ALLEY - NIGHT            The remaining vampires stumbleinto a narrower alley where a            GROUP OF BUMS are warming themselves over a series of oil            drum fires.            Jigsaw slips, TRIPPING over one of the burning oil drums,            catching himselfablaze.  He doesn't give a shit.  He keeps            on running, barreling his way into --            INT. NOODLE FACTORY - NIGHT            -- the back entrance of a cramped, sweat-shop.  Some kindof            noodle factory filled with steam and equipment and YAMMERING            FOREIGNERS and --            -- here comes Blade, hot on the vampires' heels, shouldering            workers aside and --            EXT.NOODLE FACTORY - NIGHT            -- Rush and the remaining vamps spill out onto the street            where a number of motorcycles are waiting for them -- two BMW            R1200 motorbikes and a tricked-outPanhead Harley chopper            with ape-hanger handlebars.            Rush and Segura leap atop their BMWs.  Jigsaw rolls into a            puddle of water, dousing himself, then jumps onto his            chopper.  As thevamps peel out --            BLADE            Bursts from the factory.  Segura revs his BMW, trying to run            him down.  At the last second, Blade pivots aside like a            matador.  Segura circles around foranother try.            Blade leaps, somersaulting through the air, then lands on the            back of the bike behind Segura.  SHINGGG!  Blade pulls a            retractable garrotte wire from the sleeve of his jacketand            wraps it around Segura's throat.            With a violent twist, Blade decapitates Segura.  As the            vampire's headless body turns to ash before him, Blade leans            forward and takes the controls of