The Pool of Fire (The Tripods) by John Christopher

stood in front of the table, holding the tray. Ulf said, “Why haven’t you lit the lamp?”
    “It’s not time yet.”
    Nor was it. It wanted another quarter hour to the time laid down by Ulf himself. If I had lit it early, on account of the day’s early darkening, he would have been as likely to pick on that as a breach of one of his rules.
    “Light it,” he said. “And don’t answer me back, Parker. When I tell you to do something, you do it, and do it fast. Is that understood?”
    “Yes, sir. But the regulations say . . .”
    He stood up, swaying slightly, from his seat, and leaned forward with his hands on the table. I could smell the spirits on his breath.
    “You’re insub . . . insubordinate, Parker, and I won’t stand for it. You’ll take an extra guard tonight. And now you’ll put that tray down, and light the lamp. Is that clear?”
    I did as I was told, silently. The lamplight gleamed on his heavy face, flushed with drink. I said coldly, “If that is all, sir, I will proceed with my duties.”
    He stared at me a moment. “Can’t wait to get in to that pal of yours, is that it? Chatting with the big lizard is easier than working—that right?”
    I moved to pick up the tray. “May I go now, sir?”
    “Wait.”
    I stood there obediently. Ulf laughed, picked up the tumbler, and emptied it into the bowl of food prepared for Ruki. I looked at it, without moving.
    “Go on,” he said. “Take your pal his supper. Got a little something in it to liven him up now.”
    I knew perfectly well what I ought to have done. Ulf was indulging in a silly drunken jest. I should have taken the tray out and made up another bowl for Ruki,throwing this one away. Instead, I asked, in the most obedient but contemptuous fashion, “Is that an order, sir?”
    His anger was as great as mine, but hot where mine was cold. And his mind was blurred by drink. He said, “Do as you’re told, Parker. And jump to it!”
    I picked up the tray and left. I had a glimpse of what Beanpole had meant—I could have mollified Ulf with a little effort, and passed the whole thing off. I am afraid that what I was thinking was that this time he had put himself in the wrong. Ruki would refuse the food, as he refused anything which differed even slightly from what he was used to. I would have to report on this, and the incident would then be brought to light. Simply by obeying orders and acting according to regulations, I had my chance to get my own back at my tormentor.
    As I reached the airlock, I heard Ulf bellowing something in the distance. I went through, into the cell, and put the tray down. I left it there, and went back to see what the yelling was about. Ulf was standing unsteadily on his feet. He said, “Belay that order. Make another supper up for the lizard.”
    I said, “I’ve taken the tray in, sir. As instructed.”
    “Then bring it out again! Wait. I’m coming with you.”
    I was annoyed that my scheme had misfired. Ruki would eat the substitute meal, and so there would be nothing that I would be obliged to report. Reporting Ulf simply for being drunk on duty was not a thought that appealed to me even in my present state of resentment. I went with him in silence, bitterly conscious of the fact that he was going to get away with it, after all.
    There was barely room for two in the airlock. We were forced to jostle against each other, putting on the face masks which we must wear inside the cell. Ulf opened the inner door, and stepped through first. I heard him give a grunt of surprise and dismay. He went forward quickly, and I could see what he had seen.
    The bowl was empty. And Ruki was stretched out, full length and motionless.
    •  •  •
    Julius came back to the castle for the conference. He seemed to be limping worse than ever, but was no less cheerful and confident. He sat at the center of the long table, with the scientists, including Beanpole, clustered around him. Fritz and I sat inconspicuously at the