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He knew he was going to die, the physics that he remembered from school told him that much. There was no way that the
brain was going break his fall, brains were spongy, but not that spongy. His medical degree meant he knew his back was going
to break, and his death would probably be instantaneous. At least there shouldn't be any pain.
Parts of his life do
flash before him, like the cliché says, mostly the bad thing. The things he'd seen and not done anything about, and the things
he'd done himself to poor, defenceless Ood. He'd go home and vomit, and cling to his bed in the morning, trying to avoid working
the next day. He'd always been a coward.
When he'd been at university, he'd always thought that the Friends of the
Ood had the right idea but he didn't get involved. It could have hurt his career. Until, one day, as he'd been out running,
anything to avoid working on his dissertation, and he'd seen some idiot stubbing out his cigarette on his Ood. He saw red
and couldn't stop himself.
Afterwards, he almost turned himself in, hoping that that would mean any charges would
be reduced. Then he realised that the man wouldn't turn him in, because while the Ood were treated like dogs, there would
probably be charges for mistreating them that badly. So instead he went to a Friends of the Ood meeting and, hanging back
as all the others left, he told them what had happened. Sensibly, they assumed he was a government spy. But he kept going,
and eventually they realised he wasn't. In many ways, he was perfect for them, a true believer without a record, because after
a while they told him to stop coming in the front door and to wear some sort of hat or hood to disguise himself. About three
years in they told him the plan. It took him twenty years to get from that to here.
It was only a belief that it would
eventually lead to freedom for the Ood that kept him going, and it looked like that would happen. It didn't matter that he
wouldn't be there to see it, that it was going to was enough for him.
He commended his soul to a God he'd never believed
in and hoped he'd be forgiven for all the things he'd done, both in his own life and in infiltrating Ood Corporation.
And
then he heard it. He couldn't describe it, or understand it but it sounded like strawberries and sunny days on the beach.
It was scientific discovery and first love.
It sounded like home.
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