07-02-2016, 12:04 PM
Cutter performed its last download to Ship that evening before passing out of range. There were better targets for its lasers than the lifeless hulk skating far behind it. Grubb had the watch at the time, but he barely noticed the transmission. He stared mournfully at the viewscreen where The River of Stars receded from him into the void and he wiped away a tear, for he did love beautiful things, and wept to lose them.
'Shoot him, Major,' Washington asked. 'He's dying anyhow.'
All it would take was the word. Easier still, all it would take was his silence. Branch had only to turn his head, and it would be done.
'Dying?' said the thing, and opened its eyes and looked up at them. Branch alone did not jump away.
'Pleased to meet you,' it said to him.
The lips peeled back upon white teeth. It was the grin of someone whose last sole possession was the grin itself.
And then he started laughing that laughter they had heard. The mirth was real. He was laughing at them. At himself. His suffering. His extremity. The universe. It was, Branch realized, the most audacious thing he'd ever seen.
'Shoot the thing,' Sergeant Dornan said.
'Don't,' Branch commanded.
'Ah, come on,' said the creature. The nuance was pure Western. Wyoming or Montana. 'Do,' he said. And quit laughing.
In the silence, someone locked a load.
'No,' said Branch. He knelt down. Monster to monster. Cradled the Medusa head in both hands.
'Who are you?' he asked. 'What's your name?' It was like taking confession.
'He's human? He's one of us?' a soldier murmured.
Branch brought the head closer, and saw a face younger than he'd thought. That was when they discovered something that had been inflicted on none of the other prisoners. Jutting from one vertebra at the base of his neck, an iron ring had been affixed to his spinal column. One yank on that ring, and he would be turned into a head atop a dead body. They were awed by that. Awed by
the independence that needed such breaking.
'Who are you?' Branch said.
A tear streaked down from one eye. The man was remembering. He offered his name like surrendering his sword. He spoke so softly, Branch had to lean in.
'Ike,' Branch told the others.
'Shoot him, Major,' Washington asked. 'He's dying anyhow.'
All it would take was the word. Easier still, all it would take was his silence. Branch had only to turn his head, and it would be done.
'Dying?' said the thing, and opened its eyes and looked up at them. Branch alone did not jump away.
'Pleased to meet you,' it said to him.
The lips peeled back upon white teeth. It was the grin of someone whose last sole possession was the grin itself.
And then he started laughing that laughter they had heard. The mirth was real. He was laughing at them. At himself. His suffering. His extremity. The universe. It was, Branch realized, the most audacious thing he'd ever seen.
'Shoot the thing,' Sergeant Dornan said.
'Don't,' Branch commanded.
'Ah, come on,' said the creature. The nuance was pure Western. Wyoming or Montana. 'Do,' he said. And quit laughing.
In the silence, someone locked a load.
'No,' said Branch. He knelt down. Monster to monster. Cradled the Medusa head in both hands.
'Who are you?' he asked. 'What's your name?' It was like taking confession.
'He's human? He's one of us?' a soldier murmured.
Branch brought the head closer, and saw a face younger than he'd thought. That was when they discovered something that had been inflicted on none of the other prisoners. Jutting from one vertebra at the base of his neck, an iron ring had been affixed to his spinal column. One yank on that ring, and he would be turned into a head atop a dead body. They were awed by that. Awed by
the independence that needed such breaking.
'Who are you?' Branch said.
A tear streaked down from one eye. The man was remembering. He offered his name like surrendering his sword. He spoke so softly, Branch had to lean in.
'Ike,' Branch told the others.
Don't hesitate to AM(A)A
The bigger you build the bonfire, the more darkness is revealed.
Every possession and every happiness is but lent by chance for an uncertain time, and may therefore be demanded back the next hour.
The bigger you build the bonfire, the more darkness is revealed.
Every possession and every happiness is but lent by chance for an uncertain time, and may therefore be demanded back the next hour.