Invention

9. Struggle

'Told her not to inform you,' grumbled Mr. Forster.

'Colin told me,' replied L, rubbing his eyes.

'Darn cramped town...'

'We're leaving for Avrog tomorrow.'

L struggled to maintain composure as he reviewed the printed results of his father's examinations and tests. The diagnosis was unpromising: a malignant tumour had been found.

'I'm not going,' croaked his father.

'What?' L couldn't believe his ears. 'You need to go to the hospital!'

'What good is that? What's the point of all this fussing?' Mr. Forster coughed and continued: 'I don't want to spend the rest of my life stuck in hospitals!'

He covered his eyes with his palm. L sat there, unable to utter a word.

'Besides, I can't leave the city in this situation,' his father waved his hand. 'You know that.'

'Father,' L said, licking his dry lips. 'Father, I've always considered you a wise man...'

He paused, then continued, exerting all his effort to convey his point to his father:

'You have a serious illness. But it's treatable. And to get better, you need to go to the hospital. It's crucial to spend some time and energy now to live on later.'

Forster Sr. sighed.

'Let's say I go, though I don't see the point,' he said. 'What will happen here?'

'Father, until the ship is finished, Sod will be safe. Norrington...'

'Norrington,' his father mocked. 'How do you know he won't enact his plans a bit earlier?'

'He won't. We made a deal.'

'A deal!' Mr. Forster snorted. 'My foot!'

'Listen,' L looked into his father's wrinkled eyes. 'Once you're cured, you'll be able to do whatever you want for a very long time.' He tried to find the right words. 'But if you ignore the treatment, you won't have the strength to live on. You'll bring much more benefit to the city's residents if you're healthy.'

L's double, like his creator, stared unwaveringly at his father.

'Have it your way,' the latter finally said. 'Avrog is Avrog.'

He pushed his chair back and slowly got up.

'It was just a backache,' he shook his head and headed for the stairs. 'I need to rest a bit.'

With these words he left.

L leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

A nauseating feeling slithered in his chest, poisoning his entire existence.

He was so blind, so immersed in all his concerns, so feverishly pursuing his selfish goals that he had not seen his father was sick.

How had he not immediately understood that he could not leave this planet, leaving him here to die? After all, L was the only family he had...

He needed to abandon the deal as soon as possible, finish building the rocket, and live in Sod, watching over his father.

The nausea from these thoughts rose to his throat, choking him, shrouding his consciousness in a thick veil. He had never imagined that the impossibility of flying to Earth would weigh so heavily on him. It was hard to believe that just yesterday he had been revelling in the joy of being in a plane.

L sighed and buried his face in his hands.

Now, he had no doubt that he could influence people's decisions. But for now he did it intuitively, without understanding exactly how.