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-- File: 2Nov7.txt


all previous nonsense to be found at
www.geocities.com/aescension




this one doesnt get an intoduction or an authors note,
just a comment from Richard Grossinger,



  'For this lifetime and all lifetimes and universes to
   come. In fact, your word is the only thing that will
   get you through.'









 

   7

  As I later found out, my face was on one of many posters 
throughout the city that advertised Gold Cup Racing's recent rise 
in viewer ratings. Due to the two week delay for all races while the 
Turbine's gates and ramp were being repaired, much time and 
effort had been spent in keeping up the public interest in the sport. 
Clip footage, add campaigns, interviews, and especially the mural 
size wall posters were just a few of the mediums used to promote 
the careers of 'The Men of the Most Valiant Sport Ever 
Conceived.' 

  It was in one such broadcast of the latter half of my latest 
race that a young girl of about eight saw my face very clearly in a 
blue and gray racing jacket. And it was only one night later that 
police investigators learned from her that I had been seen in the 
subway station last Monday night, and had been party to some very 
unsportsmanlike conduct. The screen and my weary brain went 
live now to the crime scene where everyone's favorite independent 
news anchor stood amidst rigid Taurs, all laid out in a row.

  "Yes, Tom, it seems the recent episodes of gang related 
violence in this city have not been eradicated like Police 
Commissioner Arkoff had promised in an interview yesterday."

  The scene switched briefly to a shot of the Commissioner 
surrounded by reporters, talking about how the City Police in 
conjunction with Special Forces officers had eliminated the 
supposed terrorist element. He was probably referring to the car 
chase and bombing I was directly and peripherally (respectively) 
involved in a week ago. I started to get a sinking feeling in my 
stomach. Sarah Wheeler continued.

  "What Commissioner Arkoff doesn't know, can still hurt 
others. Around me is the grim result of a gang related shoot-out 
which took place last night in the East Point Three subway-
terminal, a mere ten miles from Capital Plaza. So far the reported 
dead number eleven, with fifteen others wounded, two of them 
critically. 

  "The gangs involved were identified as the 'Taurs' and 
'Das Uberdog,' the latter a suspect in the IMHR bombing which 
took place less than a week ago. No bodies have been claimed by 
either group, though nine of the dead were found wearing Taur 
colors. The other two were civilians, caught waiting for their late 
train at imperfect timing.

  "The police maintain that they have several leads, and are 
currently rounding up the known leaders of both gangs. While eye 
witnesses claim that the fire fight was strictly drawn across party 
lines, the stolen government issue weapons found on the scene 
were responsible for all casualties. One interesting fact was learned 
from a witness, a small child riding with her elderly father on the 
train, who was sadly one of the two civilian victims. As she is a 
minor we cannot broadcast her statement, but the investigator who 
interviewed the child quoted her as saying, 'I saw the man on that 
poster over there. The racer. He was there the whole time.'

  "The man she pointed out was recognized as the returning 
race car driver known only as 'Screw.' He is the same man who 
was attacked last Sunday while participating in his first Gold Cup 
race after ten years. He had served six years in an underground 
maximum security prison for a second-degree murder charge with 
malicious intent, from which he was released into a probationary 
status almost four years ago. As of today, he has not been indicted 
in any of the three deaths which have surrounded his Gold Cup 
comeback. He is still at large, and though wanted for questioning, 
he is not under warrant for this incident.

  "Police maintain that this is the largest gang shoot-out to 
take place in a government owned facility in fourteen months, the 
last taking place in Ventiss business park which left twenty-two 
dead; all of whom were well known gang members. The Mandate 
is expected to comment on the situation by the end of the day, and 
has stated that it is considering a temporary state of martial law. 
The zero-tolerance plan of Commissioner Arkoff is not to be taken 
lightly, as he explained earlier today in press conference. All gangs 
involved are warned that they will be punished swiftly and harshly, 
as well as anyone else directly involved in the confrontation. We 
can assume he is partially referring to Screw, the only 
acknowledged living suspect."

  Sarah walked away from the camera and the view panned 
out to show short, stocky sanctioned laborers load the bodies into a 
small tan army truck. The walls of the subway station were 
smeared with blood and police officers poked around taking fluid 
samples. It gave you the impression that they were making it even 
worse. Sarah's face turned toward the screen.

  Her background switched to that of City Hall, taken from 
miles out. "What does the wake of this unprecedented phenomenon 
hold for the people of this city? Hopefully it means an end to the 
violence and hatred which have steadily increased over past years. 
But is martial law really the answer? Some political social 
scientists say the answer is necessarily a yes. Fear in the hearts of 
the people quenches the desire to strike back. Since Commissioner 
Arkoff's appointment almost twenty-four years ago, he has vowed 
to thwart the increasing anti-government crime in this city, and 
gang related violence which has more than tripled. Certain that the 
two are tied together, he executes his policy with parochial ferocity 
checked only by the Mandate itself.

  "One thing is for certain. The more that citizens try to 
express their political dissatisfaction in violent ways, the stricter 
laws become. Civilians like those killed in yesterday's tragedy 
were byproducts of an dangerous war waged without regard for the 
lives of bystanders. The little girl who lost her father was not a 
victim of mere chance. As long as confrontation continues to be 
settled in bloodshed, no one outside of the palm of dependence is 
safe. Those who instigate such actions might question whether they 
fight for the people or themselves. 

  "In a society where all are affected by a single man's 
intentions, no one has the right to sacrifice others for their personal 
causes. Please, as the events of last night fade from your thoughts, 
remember one thing. We determine our society, not some strength 
beyond our control. Together, we can always forge a new path, 
free of oppression and discrimination. United we will stand as the 
one human species, and no purveyor of fear can ever hold ours 
down. Take care of yourselves and each other, my friends. Life is 
always worth the sacrifice. I am Sarah Wheeler, from Freq 720, 
and I'll be thinking of you."

  I turned off the screen, and sat back in the couch, mildly 
taken back. Maybe I had been a hundred and eighty degrees wrong 
about the City's leading independent news anchor. I did not 
believe what the newspapers said about her taking bribes. She was 
a Mark Antony, a master of the ex aeon cummunum. 

  Man, it almost made me smile...
 
  The Mandate would not let this go undisturbed.





-------------




  Chris and Alethea found me in my room at six o'clock that 
afternoon, and sat down on the unmade bed across from me. Chris 
spoke with enthusiasm.

  "Did you see the report on our job last night?"

  "I did. What a show." I said. 

  "If we act fast, this will be easily used to our advantage. 
The reaction of the masses in any revolution is paramount. The old 
woman heard the speech as well, and she believes that civilians 
will back us in our efforts, especially the lower classes. Therefore 
the operation is being moved up a week."

  "What?!" I said.

  "We cannot let this pass us by," Chris said purposefully. 
"That speech is certain to get quite a bit of media coverage, and 
there will be a lot of confusion about what this means for the 
independent broadcast freq's. Another clear attack on the Mandate 
in the name of everything Sarah Wheeler said would be sure to 
carry with it the support of the people. This Friday, the Cabal and 
Das Uberdog will hit government buildings in Capital Plaza, Lanz 
Island, and the new IMHR headquarters. We now expect the Police 
and Special Forces to be so busy with citizen protests as to give us 
a larger window of time to act."

  "And what about me?"

  He wrung his hands. "Well, Screw, you know the situation. 
We need you, but it is too late in the game to give you any more 
time deciding. If you are with us, the old woman has the merusion 
chambers almost up and running in the lab. If not, you can leave 
the building right now. We'll find some other way to take care of 
Rufius."

  "And if you can't?"

  "Then we all die trying," he said without expression.

  "What a plan."

  "I hope you haven't doubted my sincerity in this. It's our 
turn. Ours by right."

  "What right?"

  "/Damn it, are you in or out??/"  he yelled.

  A shake of the head was all I returned. I wasn't prepared 
for this. Chris's explanation of the plan seemed a little more 
feasible now, though I had little doubt that oh so many would be 
needlessly killed. Those captured would be executed, and the 
Mandate would issue a state of martial law so totalitarian that we 
would have to sign a waiver before taking a crap in a public 
bathroom. I had seen it happen. Still, all of this was of course 
contingent on whether they completed their objective. If they did 
manage to kill off enough of the higher ups, like the old woman 
said, a new order might arise from the chaos. But what then? The 
remaining military figures were just as likely to take over in the 
footsteps of their predecessors, and what guarantee was there that 
the people would come out any freer? 

  "How about an hour?" I asked. "I'll stay here if you want. 
But I really do need time to think."

  "I'll give you half that." Chris stood up to leave. "And I 
mean it. When the shit hits the fan, everybody wants to be on the 
winner's team. We could use you, Screw, but only if you are 
committed. I'll be back."

  He left.

  Alethea and I sat in silence on opposite ends of the small 
room and wondered whether we felt far away or not. I felt like 
punching or smashing something, breaking an expensive art piece, 
or at least giving it the finger. There is no cure for a good mood 
like the evening news. Having only found her this morning, and 
already standing on shaky ground over the big decision, being 
forced to force it on her was not what I wanted to do. I wondered 
whether to go over and sit next to her, or just lay it down straight. 
Either one might blow up in my face, but as I was about to choose 
the former, she beat me to the punch.

  "Do you know you get younger every time I see you?"

  I raised an eyebrow. "I do?"

  "Yeah. It's not like you have gray hair or anything, but 
you're a lot older than me and you really don't look it."

  "Thank you. If you weren't such a granny, that would be 
quite a compliment." I laughed and she stuck out her tongue at me.

  "At least my ass isn't hairy." she said.

  "No, I guess that's true. Of course, the rest of you-"

  "Liar!" she said. "See! They're perfect!" Her shorts 
revealed the truth.

  "Hmm. Well, maybe that's why I hang around you."

  I walked over, and leaned on the bed beside her. She 
remained motionless for a second and then slid down so that her 
head was in my lap, and her feet dangled over the edge of the bed. 
She asked, "...We have to do this thing, huh?"

  "Only if you want to."

  "Screw," Alethea said. "I--I really don't want you to go. I 
don't want to be left all alone here." It was a little sudden, but 
sounded premeditated. But I had expected as much.

  I sat back on the bed. "Then I won't." I was not lying.

  Her head poked up, and she waited for my expression to 
change. When it didn't, she raised eyebrows of her own and asked, 
"Really?"

  "Yes."

  "Wow."

  I said, "What? I said it was up to you."

  "So you would stay if I wanted you to?"

  "Yeah. Are you saying you don't?"

  "I don't know."

  "I don't think I do either."
 
  "I wanted to test you, to see if you meant what you 
said. I guess you do. I really don't want you to go. I feel sick to my 
stomach when I think about it. But if you have to, then I can't hold 
you back. I mean, you're probably right, it's just a matter of time 
before another psycho comes after you. And I don't want this to 
end either," she said, motioning between us.
  
  "Are you sure?" 

  "No, but that's the best you can expect right now."

  She played with her hair, and I ran my fingers though it, 
looking around absently at the paintings that brightened the room. 
In truth I knew nothing about art, but I could tell that the stuff was 
old, from at least a few centuries ago. Wouldn't every one be 
shitting bricks if I had ripped up a few of them? Hmm. Better not 
let Zig in here, or they might walk out under his jacket.

  I was exhausted again, but laying twisted and slumped on a 
bed with the girl was pleasant. It had been a long while since the 
last time. Laying back, I closed my eyes, and just listened to the 
sounds of our living and breathing. It was rhythmic, unstrained; 
like the songs small children sing to themselves when they are 
alone. The serenity I felt had been a long time coming as well. I 
still had as much on my overcrowded mind as ever, but I was now 
in the priceless position to tell it all to go to hell. I was resting and 
restless, not knowing how to feel; so I just didn't. I must admit I 
felt a little flattered about her comment on my seeming younger, 
because I occasionally thought about aging, and the things it would 
do to my facade. I was only in my early thirties, but she was right. 
Other thoughts drifted in and out of my mind, and I became 
resentful of the fact that Chris would be coming back. Alethea and 
I never found a lot of excuses to just bask in the glow we felt with 
each other, and I regretted it. 

  "So do you think I'm pretty or not?"

  Uh-oh. She may have been thinking about that comment 
about her legs. But stupidly I only nodded with some degree of 
enthusiasm. 

  "Well? Do you?"

  "Yes," I said.

  "Screw! Answer me!" 

  "What do you think I just said?! Yes, I think you are 
pretty. In fact, I think you are so gorgeous that if I keep standing 
on it, you won't be able to put your head in my lap any more."

  "God, okay then." she said. Women like her need to hear 
that four times a day to maintain their structural integrity.

  "I mean it," I said again. "You are beautiful."

  I leaned not-all-the-way-forward with a grin forming at my 
mouth so she had to raise her head a little to meet me. I slid my 
hand under and through her damp raspberry smelling hair, cradling 
her with a firm gentleness. Alethea laughed and ran her fingers 
across my chin, tickling the skin with her nails. 
 
  Definitely... *something.*

  We stayed like that until Chris knocked on the door at the 
end of the not-quite-a-half hour. His head poked out from behind 
the door, he saw the two of us and raised an eyebrow as he walked 
in. Chris's steel ribbed leather boots clacked along the old 
hardwood floor. It was the only sound in the room. He stopped, 
crossed his arms and said, "It's time. What's it gonna be?"

  Alethea's breathing caressed me as she brushed her lips 
across my neck, and I looked at the ceiling. In life, when you find 
yourself in a situation where all of your choices are so completely 
dissimilar that they leave you stranded in the middle, you get this 
odd feeling of being more aware then is really necessary. And yet 
we spend the rest of our time complaining about how little time 
there is for the important things. 

  "Do you even know where Rufius is?"

  "The Cabal has planned for that contingency." Something 
about the way he said that made me uneasy. But I was not 
immediately sure why. I shrugged.

  And then she kissed me hard, in a way she had never shone 
interest in before. Animal-like, yet indistinguishable from the soul 
of Rodin's finest work, a duplicate captured in smooth steel sitting 
a few feet behind me. Beside it, a copy of the bible, only somewhat 
legal. It was book marked to a short chapter early in Our First 
Testament. My poor little head swam.

  "Damned if you don't," I said as I caught my breath. 




------------




  //////////////Some time passed.//////////////

  (///Lapsing into a somewhat Lagrangian point of view, my 
mind wandered with the affects of the drugs I was given. I had read 
the amber colored bottle, and saw among many words that rang 
bells, that of 'Anthanol.' Some sort of artificial steroid, as I 
remembered. I hoped I wouldn't need it. Lying back on the gurney 
as it moved quickly through a hall, the old woman, Alethea, and 
Chris stared down at me. They were staring at my eyes. I tried to 
let it irritate me instead of frighten me, but all I got was sleepiness. 
It was a softly pinkish hue really,-a cloudy one at that, that was 
closing in. My mind wandered frightened, further down a tunnel 
away from the scene before me, and I got very poetic throughout 
the trip.///)


  "He's gonna be okay, right? You can monitor him while 
he's in there, right?"

  "Yes, dear. The xenon in his blood will show up on the x-
ray."

  "Glad it ain't me."

  "Chris! Please don't say that."

  "Whatever. Hey, his blood pressure is dropping."

  "Hmm. Yes it is. Give me that thing, yes that one with the 
rubber tubes."


  (///I was led, as if chained, through doors of glass and steel--
though they were so removed I only noticed them after we had 
passed. The walls were white and had apertures for polished 
chrome instruments. Very professional looking. As we continued 
through the halls, occasionally I saw unknown faces lean over the 
gurney and stare at me too. To my right, Alethea's long brown hair 
rested lightly on my shoulder, and I could read concern in her 
face. I wanted to touch her face and lips, and say something 
reassuring, but my arms were too numb. It was like I was trapped 
under the weight of my own body, which was not altogether 
pleasant, and it made me feel more vulnerable than I wanted to be. 
My hearing sputtered in, then out, then in again; dulled and 
seeming far away, but there.///)


  "Yes, that's right. About twenty-six hours."

  "But what about food? And I didn't see any air holes in that 
thing."

  "All necessary fluids have already been injected 
intravenously. Believe me, dear, he is going to be fine. Whether 
the process actually works remains to be seen."

  "He's not going to look any different is he? Or like, 
suddenly have those multiple personalities?"

  "No, I don't think we will be giving him that much juice. 
You know, we gave Chris the treatment when he started working 
for us too. He turned up unresponsive, but nothing bad happened to 
him. Did it Chris?"

  "Well it gave me one hell of a headache, but your boy 
Screw can take it, no sweat."

  "Well I guess. But I like him the way he is, and I don't 
want him to come out of your little chamber with a dozen extra 
bodies. That kind of thing scares me."

  "Join the club."


  (///And then I lost it, as the buzzing in my brain drowned them 
out. And this time it was not stopping. My vision blurred, I heard 
ancient gramophones spinning sparks in my ears, and my skin felt 
so tingly and hot that I feared I was going to faint. It was a full 
body electric shock which had steadily rose until it could only be 
the foremost thing in my mind. Santa-Claustrophobia. Sick like my 
life depended on it. I tried to close my eyes but my sight remained; 
some strange fire had the nerve to dance in front of me. It 
coalesced, formed laughing angels, inverted, left. Looking for three 
faces in the distortion, my ventricles contracted again, and fresh 
blood flowed into my eyeballs. I was able to take a breath, real 
slow, and deep. My senses came roaring back.///)


  "The ice packs keep his head from swelling, or absorbing 
any excess radiation from the merusion pulses. His brain will be 
fine. Besides, psionics are not a cerebral function. The responses 
come from certain nexus points along the body's central axis that 
react to x, y, and z-rays. Only a small section of his brain will be 
treated at all."

  "But then what went wrong when they tried it on you?"

  "Well, that was many years ago. Neither Mr. White nor 
myself new anything about proper doses. As I said, we really 
aren't feeding him that much juice. Just enough to help him mature 
faster."

  "But you knew what you were doing when you did it to 
Chris, right?"

  "Yes, and we know even more now. He will get fourteen 
pulses exactly. And if he wakes up during the process, the inside of 
the chamber has an abort button which is clearly labeled. He can 
just hit the button and we'll pull him right out. There is even a 
small window."

  "I am going to wait by the console while he is in there."

  "You're going to stay up all night?"

  "Yes, I think someone should be there around the clock."

  "It's fine with me. Chris, I want you to be here also, to 
monitor his vitals."

  "Yes, ma'am."


  (///It all went backward, like the effects were pushing the 
causes out of the way to get to the front of the line. They must have 
taken me up the elevator when I lapsed out for a second. I 
recognized the lab, but now all the equipment looked even more 
alien. Alive, patiently waiting to receive me. I saw a light at the 
end of the tunnel, but it turned out to be the interior of the big 
metal coffin they were putting me in. It had huge tubes running out 
from the walls into its sides, and they made the whole room very 
cold. But when the door shut on me, I became hot and nervous 
again. The only outer connection was a little window above my 
head. Alethea was talking with the old woman, who left after a 
while. The ringing in my ears was getting steadily louder, and I 
could only make out outlines of people through the glass. The 
coffin was tightening its grip, screaming something like a warning 
at me. I spasmed erratically, but the cushioned grooves for my 
arms and legs allowed little movement. A red light flashed 
somewhere.///)

  (///The worst part was that I couldn't tell whether I was really 
seeing straight, or the drugs had just affected me in more ways 
than one. Through the square plate of thick glass, I saw Alethea 
and Chris sit down a few feet away from a large computer console, 
and their lips were moving. Trying to read their lips kept my mind 
off the heat in my belly where several red dots had appeared on my 
skin.///)


  "What does it feel like in there? Are you completely 
unconscious?"

  "Yeah, for the most part. They told me I was out the second 
they gave me the IV. I woke up a few seconds before they opened 
the lid. And I took the full treatment without  learning a damn 
thing."

  "So there's no way he is awake in there?"

  "Nah, babe. You saw him on the way up. He'll be sleepin 
like a rock tonight."

  "I hope so."


  (///At least that's what I thought they said. I had caught myself 
twice looking at their eyes instead of their mouths, and yet I heard 
every word. How was this possible? The coffin was too thick! I 
suddenly didn't like the idea that I was supposed to be asleep, and 
that being awake was undesirable. I wondered if Chris was lying to 
her... Sitting there, almost as tall as me, talking to my woman. MY 
babe. He had no right to say that. Damn, my belly felt hot. The red 
dots on my flesh were the only lights in the chamber. I tried to see 
my feet, but they were too distant. I could feel them though, just 
buzzing away down there, also trying on their own to find some 
familiar feeling. I tried to kick out, make some sound by hitting the 
chamber's rock lid; nothing. Time was passing to quickly at the 
even intervals, too slow on the odds. I shook my head when I 
realized my mind had wandered too close to a sensitive spot. There 
was a lot swirling around in there and I only occasionally caught 
glimpses that registered. But it's the sensitive spots that draw you. 
The black-rock-coffin-chamber-hole was slowly suffocating me; I 
knew I needed air. Air! Now! My phase shifted and I stared out the 
window again.///)


  "So you and Screw are all tight now, huh?"

  "Yeah, I guess. Half a month now, though it seems like it's 
been only a few days. You know, it's strange. He is so passionate 
sometimes, and it is just a joy to feel him touch me, or talk to me 
like he is really interested. But then something happens, and it 
seems like he just drifts away angrily. He gets cold, to everyone. 
Maybe I'm being a burden to him. I don't know."


  (///No! You've got the wrong idea! You're not a burden.///)


  "Well, I'll be here if you ever want to talk about it."


  (///Like hell you will.///)


  "Thanks, Chris. I mean it. I need all the friends I can get."


  (///The praetor-brutal energy permeating everything increased 
suddenly, and I fell unconscious. It was immediate, and utter.///) 

  (///When my eyes opened again, the red dots were much closer. I 
could see the tubes that emitted them, and supposed that the dots 
would be on my neck now. Six hot dots. And the heat on the lower 
part of my body had not gone away even after they had passed. My 
neck was hot, and my breathing was raspy. But at least I could feel 
it. Hands: check. Elbows: check. Shoulder: Wait! Legs! Legs? 
Legs!? Oh, there they were. Only about seventeen or eighteen feet 
to go. Strange, because I didn't remember being that tall. Why 
were they so far away? And why was it so god damn hot and buzzy 
in here?///) 

  (///Three rays, each with a forward and backward spin. Each 
with their own little ideas about how things were supposed to flow. 
How quaint. I looked out the window. It was dark and silent in the 
room. Alethea was now alone and typing on the computer console. 
She typed well. Nice arms, nice hands. She looked serious. Wonder 
why she was typing? And where was Chris? Then I saw her lips 
move slowly. Her head tilted back and to the side. She stared right 
at me through the window. Was she talking?///)

 
  "I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys. As the 
lily among thorns, so is my love among his daughters."


  (///Now, what? She stood up. My arms convulsed reflexively. 
What would she do when she saw I was still awake? Pull me out? 
Did I want that?///)


  "As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my 
beloved among the sons. I lay down under his shadow with great 
delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste. He brought me to the 
banquet, and his banner over me was love."


  (///Alethea was reciting this to me. She was baring herself to 
me and the room, knowing I could hear her and continuing. All the 
lights in the room were dimming as they lost importance. In the 
shadows, things moved. My eyes may have been playing tricks, but 
I could still make out movement. Her face held an unrecognizable 
smile. I was unsure whether she was really singing, or whether it 
was my fried mind acting up. Now standing directly over the 
merusion chamber window, her hands did something I could not 
see.///) 


  "Stay me with drink, comfort me with the fruit: for I am 
sick of love."


  (///A thin elbow came crashing down on the glass panel. The 
rank fear that had gripped me suddenly reached a crescendo that 
kept me too desperate to move. Cymbals exploded in deafening 
clamor. The air I sucked in was thicker and fouler, and my mouth 
and eyes were open, aching in the tension I was putting on the 
muscles. Somehow someone had gotten to her. Someone, when she 
was away from me. When she wasn't looking. Most likely Chris, 
but it could have been the old bag as well. That evil sadistic bitch! 
Multiple personalities, my ass.///)

 
  "His left hand rests under my head, and his right hand doth 
embrace me. I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the 
roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake 
my love, till he please."


  (///Again the elbow came down, and the glass cracked further. 
Through the resulting cloudiness I saw her pick out the pieces until 
there was nothing between my face and hers except air, and a 
thousand miles of sudden mistrust. Her low singing was causing 
me to shiver and shake even more.///)


  "My beloved spoke, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, 
my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is 
over and gone." 

  
  (///Her other arm came into view, holding the end of a large 
pipe, previously attached to the side of my coffin, torn apart, and 
spitting out volumes of super-cooled gas. It washed over the floor 
behind her, and I saw sparks as a large monitor shattered.///)


  "Oh my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret 
places of the stairs, let me see thy face, let me hear thy voice; for 
sweet is thy voice, and thy face is beauty."


  (///Alethea leaned forward and kissed me on my open mouth. I 
was too numb to taste anything, and too taken with fear to speak. 
But now I knew what this was. Those ancient words of another's 
lost love. She was trying to tell me why she was able to do this. She 
wanted me to see what there was of her small, waning heart and 
that it still beat for me.///)

  Yet her heart was all of her I had ever seen.

  (///In vivid detail that pierced through the confusion, her head 
pulled back and she held the end of the metal jacketed pipe over 
the open window. She jammed it in the hole with a grunt, and both 
of her lovely hands. Liquid oxygen at two hundred degrees below 
zero hit my bare skin, and filled the chamber like a balloon. My 
brains solidified instantly. In a moment of clarity and regret, I 
died. And not a single friendly after-thought from my warm cushy 
couch of personal subjectivity dared follow me down the hole. 
Cheeky bastards.///)


  Meanwhile she sang, "My beloved is mine, and I am his: he 
feedeth among the lilies."





----------
----------




stay tuned, chap 8 to be out soon

  


aes





www.geocities.com/aescension





hoo-ah


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