Metadata
Author: langbot
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English[en]
“Good morning, gentlemen,” he said, with a broad smile. (Yuck – again.) “We have a few little, shall we say, ‘games’ to play this morning,” he continued. Then he turned to Ingrid and ordered: “Doctor, shave their heads and apply the electrodes, if you would be so kind.” “Electrodes”? That didn’t sound very promising. What was left of my afro was roughly shaven – David’s hair, too. I didn’t really care much about this but David grumbled and moaned enormously. (I wondered idly whether all zombies were such whingers.) I hadn’t previously noticed that he – or any other zombie, for that matter – took any particular pride in their locks. Indeed, all the zombies that I’d met seemed to make it a badge of honour to clot their hair up with as much dried blood and congealed gore as they could. It was just the indignity of the thing, I suppose. Soon, my newly-bald head was covered with shiny, stick-on electrode pads – carefully placed on me by the tasty (?) Ingrid. The electrodes were then attached to an ancient-looking EEG (electroencephalogram) in order to measure my brain waves. Ingrid and the Captain then started to take readings from the cathode ray tube. Lots of lovely wiggly lines being traced across the screen. What did it mean? Dunno. I suppose it meant my brain was working. Beyond that? Ask someone else. They did this for a while and made a whole bunch of fairly boring and unintelligible (to me, at least) remarks. Then it was David’s turn. Same deal: carefully placed, stick-on electrodes all over his bald cranium, hook up to EEG, read out screen. Result? A screen full of flat-line tracings. Not even a faint wobble on any line. Not the slightest tremble. “This man is dead,” observed Ingrid. (What a genius!) “Hmm,” responded the Captain. (Another genius.)
Cornish[kw]
“Myttin da, a dus jentyl,” yn-medh ev, ledan y vinhwarth. (Thukk – arta.) “Yma dhyn nebes ‘gwariow’ yw res dhe wari an myttin ma, y hallsen leverel,” a besyas ev. Ena, ev a dreylyas dhe Ingrid hag erghi: “’Dhoktour, gwra divarva aga fennow ha gorra warnedha an elektroedys, mar pleg.” “Elektroedys”? Nyns o da genev, son an ger na. Remenant a’m afro a veu divarvys yn harow – blew Davydh ynwedh. Yn hwir, nyns o govisyon dhymm yn y gever mes Davydh a grodhvolas ha kyni meur. (My a omwovynnas, heb porpos gwir, mars o oll an zombis kynoryon a’n par na.) Ny verksen kyns ev dhe klywes goeth arbennik yn y vlew – na, dres henna, zombis erell. Yn hwir, dell heveli, oll an zombis neb a vetsen vy re wrussa anodho arwoedhik enor dhe gowla aga blew gans kemmys goes sygh ha kemmys krow kowlys hag i a allsa gul ganso. Y tesevav bos yn sempel onan an moethow pur dhedha. Yn skon, gorherys o’m penn, moelhes a-nowydh, gans padynnow-elektroed glusek ha lentrus. Y fiens gorrys warnav gans Ingrid (an sawrek?) Gwivrennow dhe’n padynnow a veu stegys ena dhe grammelektrokefalek (GEK), gis koth, rag musura ow thonnow-ympynnyon. Ena, Ingrid ha’n Kapten a dhallathas kemmeres redyansow dhiworth skrin an bib golowynnow kathoedek (BGK). Yth esa meur a linennow ow krysya tresys a-dreus an skrin. Pyth a styrya hemma? Ny wonn. My a dhesev ow ympynnyon dhe vos owth oberi. Dres henna? Gwra govynn dhe nebonan arall. I a besya y’n fordh ma dres berrdermyn ha gul nebes kampoellow skwithus lowr na yllys bos konvedhys (genev vy, dhe’n lyha). Ena, tro dhe Dhavydh o. An keth tra o: gorrys yn le gans rach, padynnow- elektroed glusek oll a-dro y benn moel, gwra fast an gwivrennow dhe’n GEK ha lenna pyth a dhiskwedhas an skrin. An sywyans? Skrin leun a dresyansow lin-platt. Nyns esa trebuchyans ydhil hogen war neb linenn. Kren vyth. “An den ma yw marow,” observyas Ingrid. (Ass o hi awenoges!) “Hmm,” a worthybis an Kapten. (Awenek arall.)