The Gauntlet, part II / ÅK¤â®M, ¤À¶} 2

by Ennien Ashbrook, ashbrook@spots.ab.ca / ¥Ñ Ennien Ashbrook,ashbrook@spots.ab.ca


Then... / ·í®É¡C¡C¡C

They rose at dawn, all at once, for dawdlers would be punished. They rose as one from the beds, passed their water as one, brushed their teeth as one. They dressed in the same dreary jumpjohns, wore their hair in the same scraggly blunt. They ate the same tasteless porridge, drank the same inferior ti. The older boys could have tchekna, but only if they were priviledged. / ¥L­Ì¦b¯}¾å¤W¤É,¬ðµM¡A¦]¬°¹C¤â¦n¶¢ªº¤H±N·|³Q³B»@¡C ¥L­Ì±q§É¤W¤É·í°µ¤@,³q¹L¤F¥L­Ìªº¤ô·í°µ¥L, ²¨¨ê¤F¥L­Ìªº¤ú¾¦·í°µ¤@¡C ¥L­Ì¬ï¤@¼Ëªº¨I´e jumpjohns, ¬ïµÛ¤F¦b¤@¼Ëªº¥L­ÌÀY¾v´²¶Ãªº¶w¡C ¥L­Ì¦Y¤F¤@¼Ëªº¨S¨ý¹Dªºµ°,³Ü¤F¤@¼Ëªº¦¸µ¥ ti¡C §ó¦~ªøªº¨k«Ä·|¦³ tchekna,¦ý¬O¥u¦³·í¦pªG¥L­Ì¬O priviledged ¡C

This one was not priviledged. His face was finer than the others', its features more sculptured. His fair was finer, blonde and rich -- or so it promised, when he grew older. He was no taller than the other boys his age, but he was slimmer, of a finer build. He looked like a girl. / ³o¤@­Ó¤£¬O priviledged ¡C ¥LªºÁy¬O¤ñ¥t¤@­Ó²Ó·Lªº,¥¦¯S¼x¦hÀJ¨è¡C ¥Lªº®iÄý·|¬O¤ñ¸û²Ó·Lªº¡M¥Õ¦âªº©M´I¦³ªº -- ·í¥LÅܱo¤ñ¸û¦~ªøªº®É­Ô¥ª¥k¥¦µªÀ³¡C ¥L¬O¨S¦³¤ñ¨ä¥L¨k«Ä°ªªº¥L¦~ÄÖ¡A¦ý¬O¥L¬O´îªÎªÌ, ¤@¤ñ¸û²Ó·Lªº«Ø¥ß¡C ¥L¬Ý°_¨Ó¹³¤@­Ó¤k«Ä¤@¼Ë¡C

This morning, he would go hungry. Again. It was not because the mess hall had run out of porridge, nor was it because he had risen late. / ¤µ¤Ñ¦­±á¡A¥L±N·|ÅÜÄȾj¡C ¦A¤@¦¸¡C ¥¦¬O¤£¦]¬°¤@¹Î¶ÃªùÆU¤w¸g¥Î¥úµ°,¦]¬°¥L¤w¸g±ß¤É°_¡A©Ò¥H¥¦¤]¤£¬O¡C
No, he would go hungry because no one would let him eat. As usual, he wore his breakfast, the victim of another assault. He'd grown accustomed to licking his food off his clothes. / ¤£¡A¦]¬°¨S¦³¤H±N·|Åý¥L¦Y¡A©Ò¥H¥L±N·|ÅÜÄȾj¡C ¹³©¹±`¤@¼Ë¡A¥L¬ïµÛ¤F¥Lªº¦­À\¡A¥t§ðÀ»ªº¨ü®`¤H¡C ¥L¤w¸g¦b¥Lªº¦çªA¥~ÅܲߺD¤F¨ì»Q¥Lªº­¹ª«¡C

As usual, he would be punished, punished for inciting the other boys. / ¹³©¹±`¤@¼Ë¡A¥L±N·|³Q³B»@,¬°¨ë¿E¨ä¥L¨k«Ä³B»@¡C
He, as usual, did nothing more than exist. His face was offense enough to bring the cane across his back. / ¥L,¹³©¹±`¤@¼Ë¡A¶W¹Lªº¨S¨Æ¦s¦b¶Ü¡C ¥LªºÁy¬O¥R¨¬±a¾î¹L¥Lªº­I³¡¤â§úªº¥Ç¸o¡C

Now... / ²{¦b¡C¡C¡C

Zoltar's clothes are clean in the mornings, his food on his platter where it belongs. He is thankful, offering psalms to Aishe for this good fortune, the pleasure of a quiet meal. Years of torment have taught him that, and the memories remind him of his blessings. / Zoltar's ªº¦çªA¦b¦­±á¬O°®²bªº,¦b¥Lªº¥¦Äݩ󪺤j½L¤l¤Wªº¥L­¹ª«¡C ¥L¬O·PÁªº,¬°¦n°]´I´£¨Ñ¸t¸Öµ¹ Aishe,¦wÀRªº¤@À\§Ö¼Ö¡C ¼Æ¦~ªº­Wµh¤w¸g±Ð¥L¨º¡A¦Ó¥B°O¾Ð¨Ï¥L·Q°_¥Lªº¯¬ºÖ¡C

He takes his morning meal in his bedroom, where he might eat unmasked. / ¥L±a¥Lªºª×«Ç¥L¦­±á¤@À\,¥L¥i¯à¦b­þ¸Ì¦Y²æ¥h°²­±¨ã¡C
Each morning, he regards his face, the image of his sister looking through the glass. He is beautiful. He knows this; he has been told many times, by soldiers thinking of him as Zarabeth, and by rebels, knowing him for who he is. "Handsome", they say, "Does not describe / ¨C­Ó¦­±á¡A¥Lµø¬°¥LªºÁy¡A¥Lªº¬Ý¹L¬Á¼þªº©n©f¼v¹³¡C ¥L«Ü¬üÄR¡C ¥Lª¾¹D³o; ¥L³\¦h¦¸¤w¸g³Q§i¶D,¦b§â¥L·í°µ Zarabeth ªº­x¤H¤âÃä, ©M¦b«q®{¤âÃä, ª¾¹D¥L¬°¥L¬O½Ö¡C " ­^«Tªº ",¥L­Ì»¡,"¤£´y­z
Zoltar". It is all they will say, those who were priviledged to look upon his face at the Meetings. He displays himself there, so that his face might give them hope, inspire them to plan for the Spirit's downfall. He feels good at the Meetings -- all of his suffering has meaning, then. / Zoltar". ¥¦¥þ³£¬O¥L­Ì±N»¡,¨º¨Ç¬O¦b·|ij¤W¦b¥LªºÁy¤§¤W¬Ýªº priviledged ªº¤H¡C ¥L¦b¨º¸ÌÅã¥Ü¥L¦Û¤v,©Ò¥H¥LªºÁy¥i¯àµ¹¥L­Ì§Æ±æ, ¿Eµo¥L­Ì­p¹º¦]¬°ºë¯«¬O°I±Ñ¡C ¥L¦b·|ij¤Wı±oµÎªA -- ·í®É¥Lªº¥þ³¡¨üÃø¦³·N¸q¡C

Morning is not a happy time for Zoltar. He dresses in the dark, so he will not have to view the marks on his body, scars left by cane, belt, knife and other assorted abuses. A brown stain marks one rib, where it was bruised so often the blood failed to be absorbed, but stagnated and scarred itself into the skin like a tattoo. / ¦­±á¹ï©ó Zoltar ¤£¬O¤@¬qÅw¼Ö®É¥ú¡C ¥L¦b¶Â·t¤¤¬ïµÛ¡A¦]¦¹¡A¥L±N¤£¥²¬Ý¦b¥Lªº¨­Åé¡A³Q¤â§ú¡A±a¤l¡A¤M©M¨ä¥Lªº°t¦X­h«Ý¯d¤Uªº¬Í²ª¤Wªº¼Ð»x¡C ¤@­Ó½Å¦â¦Ã¬V¼Ð¥Ü¤@®Ú¦Ø°©, ¥¦³Q¥´¶Ë¦p¦¹ªº®É±`³Q¨S¦³¶i¤J¥Ö½§¤§¤º³Q§l¦¬, ¦ý¬O²J¶ë¦Ó¥Bµ²¬Í¥¦¥»¨­ªº¦å­þ¸Ì³ßÅw¤@­Ó¯¾¨­¡C

He leaves his gloves, cloak and mask until last, averting his eyes from the thick white ropes on his wrists, from the tiny blades tipping his fingernails. They are a defensive weapon, but like all weapons, Zoltar has other uses. He finishes his meal before he dons the mask, bundling up the thick mane that crowns his head. / ¥LÂ÷¶}¥Lªº¤â®M¡A¤æ½´©M°²­±¨ãª½¨ì³Ì«áªº,¦b¥Lªº¤âµÃ¤WÁקK±q«pªº¥Õ¦â²Ê÷¥Lªº²´·ú,±q´£¥Ü¥Lªº¤â«ü¥Òªº·¥¤p¤M¾W¡C ¥L­Ì¬O¤@­Ó¨¾¿mªºªZ¾¹¡A¦ý¬O¹³©Ò¦³ªºªZ¾¹¡A Zoltar ¦³¨ä¥Lªº¨Ï¥Î¡C ¦b¥LµÛ°²­±¨ã¤§«e , ¥L§¹¦¨¥Lªº¤@À\,¦b¥[°Ã¥LªºÀY«pÃO¤ò¤W­±®¹¡C

This morning, he looks at himself, before donning the mask. / ¤µ¤Ñ¦­±á¡A¥L¬Ý¥L¦Û¤v,¦bµÛ°²­±¨ã¤§«e¡C

He has been told others are envious of his lips. Full, soft, supple, coloured the tint of new anoli blossoms. Many women have commented on his lips, the kind women like to kiss. Sensitive, responsive, educated -- surely these are the lips of Zoltar. The men -- ah, what they would give for lips like those, lips whose kisses must surely taste like wine. It is true: They are soft, sensual, tactilly sensitive. The few kisses he has shared have indeed been magical. / ¥L¤w¸g³Q§i¶D¨ä¥¦¹ï¥Lªº®B¬O¶ú§ªªº¡C ¥Rº¡ªº¡M³n¡M©M¬X³nªº,§â·s anoli ªáªº¦â±m¬V¦â¤F¡C ³\¦h¤k¤H¤w¸gµû½×¥Lªº®B,¿Ë¤Áªº¤k¤H³ßÅw§k¡C ±Ó·Pªº¡M¦^µªªº, ±Ð¨| -- ·íµM³o¨Ç¬O Zoltar ªº®B¡C ¨k¤H -- °Ú,¥L­Ì±N·|¬°¹³¨º¨Çªº®Bµ¹¤°»ò,¤@©w­n·íµMÀ|°_¨Ó¹³¸²µå°s¤@¼Ëªº®B¡C ¯u¬O¯u¹ê: ¥L­Ì¬O³nªº¡M©x¯àªº, tactilly ±Ó·Pªº¡C ¥L¤w¸g¤À¨Éªº¤Ö¼Æ§kªº½T¤w¸g¬OÅ]³Nªº¡C

He picks up a brush and straightens his hair. Long hair is so desired; he doesn't understand why Earthers crop their hair so short. It looks so uncomfortable, so skimpy. The shoulder-length crop of the Spectran army is the shortest hair to be found on the planet. / ¥L¬B°_¨ê¤l¨Ã¥B§Ëª½¥LªºÀY¾v¡C ªøªºÀY¾v¦p¦¹³Q»Ý­n; ¥L¤£¤F¸Ñ Earthers ¬°¤°»ò¦¬³Î¥L­ÌªºÀY¾v¦p¦¹µu¡C ¥¦¬Ý°_¨Ó¦p¦¹¤£µÎªA,¦p¦¹¤£¨¬¡C Spectran ­x¶¤ªºªÓªø¹A§@ª«¬O¦b¦æ¬P¤W³Qµo²{ªº³ÌµuÀY¾v¡C

Zoltar's hair is past his knees. / Zoltar's ªºÀY¾v¬O¹L¥h¥Lªº½¥¡C

It falls, silky, with a slight wave, a golden waterfall of shimmering filaments. They fall like sunlight through mist, scattering the light. / ¥¦¸¨¤U,¦pµ·ªº,ÂǥѤ@­Ó·L¤pªºªi®ö, µo°{Ã{¤§¥úªºª÷Âr¥¬²Óµ·¡C ¥L­Ì¸g¹LÃú¸¨¤U°_¨Ó¹³¤é¥ú¤@¼Ë,´²§G¥ú¡C
The fibres are fine, as fine as ghaiana silk, yet grows so thickly upon his head the braid is as thick around as his wrist. Occasionally he allows Mala to put it up into a braided crown, but she must work quickly. Even she cannot dawdle. / ÅÖºû«Ü¦n,¹³ ghaiana µ·¤@¼Ëªº¦n, µM¦Ó¦p¦¹ªº«p¦b¥LªºÀY¤§¤W¦¨ªøÄ|¤l¬O·í°µ«pªº¦b¦p¥Lªº¤âµÃ©P³ò¡C ¦³®É­Ô¥LÅý Mala ¶i¤J³QÄ|¤lªº¤ý«a¤§¤º·f°_¥¦¡A¦ý¬O¦o¤@©w­n¤u§@±o«Ü§Ö¡C ¬Æ¦Ü¦o¤£¯à°÷¹C¤â¦n¶¢¡C

The shimmering strands are rolled up against his head, wound carefully so they will not distort the shape of the mask. The rolls are held in place with but a few pins, that it might come spilling down whenever he unmasks. Though it might prove disastrous should he ever be captured, still he allows himself the small luxury of his hair. / µo°{Ã{¤§¥úÀسQ±²°_¹ï§Ü¥LªºÀY, ³Ð¶Ë¤p¤ß¦a¦]¦¹¥L­Ì±N¤£§á¦±°²­±¨ãªº§Îª¬¡C ±²ª«¾A·í¦a³Q®³µÛ¥Ñ©ó¦ý¬O¤@¨Ç¤jÀY°w,¥¦¥i¯à¨Ó·¸¥X¤U¨Ó¡AµL½×¦ó®É¥L²æ¥h°²­±¨ã¡C ÁöµM¥¦¥i¯àÃÒ©ú·l¥¢ºG­«ªº¥LÀ³¸Ó´¿¸g³Q®·Àò¶Ü, ¼@·Ó¥L¤¹³\¥L¦Û¤v¥LªºÀY¾v¤p»¨µØ¡C

The ritual of masking begins with this hair. It is followed by the holding of the mask, the gazing upon its features, the heaving of the great sigh. Then the mask is pulled over the golden coils, over the alabaster skin, shading the green eyes, made even more luminous by the lenses which correct his sight. All that is left to public view are the lips which draw such envy. / ±»½ªªº»ö¦¡¥Ñ³o¤@®ÚÀY¾v¶}©l¡C ¥¦³Q°²­±¨ãªº§â«ù¸òÀH, ¨º­Ó¾®µø¦b¥¦ªº¯S¼x¤§¤W, ´Îªº¼Û®§¥Î¤OÁ|°_¤H¡C µM«á°²­±¨ã¦b³·ªá¥Û»I¥Ö½§¤§¤W³Q¶}¨ì¤@®Çª÷ªº±²¯d¤U³±¼vºñ¦âªº²´·ú,³Q§ï¥¿¥Lªºµø¤O³zÃè»s³y¤F¬Æ¦Ü§ó¦hªºµo¥ú¡C ©Ò¦³ªº¨º¯dµ¹¤½²³ªºµø³¥¬O¤Þ°_¦p¦¹ªº¸r¼}®B¡C

Zoltar does not look at himself after he has masked. All that is left is to throw the cloak about his shoulders. Then he is ready for the day. / ¦b¥L¦³¤§«á¡A Zoltar ¨S¬Ý¥L¦Û¤vÀ¹°²­±¨ãªº¡C ¥ªÃ䪺¥þ³¡¬O¥áÃö©ó¥LªºªÓ¤æ½´¡C µM«á¥L¬°¨º¤Ñ°µ¦n·Ç³Æ¡C

Then... / ·í®É¡C¡C¡C

The boy caught one fleeting glimpse of the girls' class, across the road and in the other compound. Then he was herded off to his own class, a slap accompanying the rebuttal. It didn't matter: He had seen his sister, and that lifted his heart. / ¨k«Ä¤Þ°_¤Fµu¼È¤k«Äªº¤@¿h¯Z¯Å, ¶V¹L¹D¸ô©M¦b¥t¤@­Ó²V¦Xª«¤¤¡C µM«á¥L¨«¶}³Q»E¶°¨ì¥L¦Û¤vªº¯Z¯Å,³­¦ñ¤Ï»éªººQ¡C ¥¦¨S¦³¦³­«¤jÃö«Y: ¥L¤w¸g¨£¨ì¥Lªº©n©f¡A¦Ó¥B¨ºÁ|°_¤F¥Lªº¤ß¡C

What lift it saw was quickly crushed as the boy realised what class was next. / ·í¨k«Ä¤F¸Ñ¤°»ò¯Z¯Å¬O¤U¤@­Óªº®É­Ô¡A¥¦¨£¨ìªºÁ|°_«Ü§Ö¦a³Q¯»¸H¡C

"Physical Education" it was called, but this was a gross misnomer. It should really be called "Interactive Studies in Manipulation and / ¥¦³Q¥s°µªº " Åé¨| ",¦ý¬O³o¬O¤@­ÓÁ`¦@ªº¿ù»~¦W¦r¡C ¥¦À³¸Ó¯uªº³Q¥s°µ " ³B²zªº¤¬°Ê¬ã¨s©M
Biological Annulment", the boy thought wryly. He kept his thoughts to himself. Big words brought trouble. / ¥Íª«ªº¼o°£",¨k«Ä§á¬n¦a·Q¡C ¥L¹ï¥L¦Û¤v«O«ù¤F¥Lªº·Qªk¡C ¤jªº¦r±a¤F³Â·Ð¡C

The class taught defensive and offensive fighting techniques, survivalist measures, military obedience and weapons technology. There were no sports, only competition. If you failed Weaponry... / ¯Z¯Å±Ð¦u¶Õ©M§ð¶Õ¾Ô°«§Þ³N, ¥Í¦s®a±¹¬I¡A­x¨ÆªA±q©MªZ¾¹§Þ³N¡C ¨S¦³¹B°Ê, ¥u¦³Ävª§¡C ¦pªG§A¥¢±Ñ¤FªZ¾¹¡C¡C¡C

He hadn't failed yet, not in the nine years he'd spent in the institution. He had won honours in every year. All the more reason to stay the best; the only thing that kept him alive was that he was better. The school rules, normally bent to be against him, worked in his favour on this matter -- no challenges outside of curriculum. Any offenders would be shot. / ¥L¤´µM¨S¦³¥¢±Ñ,¤£¦b¤E¦~¤º¥L¦³¦b¾÷ºc¤¤ªá¶O¡C ¥L¦b¨C¦~¤w¸g¾Æ±o¥úºa¡C §ó¥[²z¥Ñ°±¯d³Ì¦n; °ß¤@ªº¨Æª«¬¡µÛ«O«ù¥L¬O¥L¬O¤ñ¸û¦nªº¡C ¾Ç®Õ³W©w , ³Q³q±`Ås¦±¬O¤Ï¹ï¥L, ¦b³o¤@­Ó¨Æ¥ó¤Wªº¥L¦n·N¤è­±¤u§@ -- ¦b½Òµ{ªº¥~Ãä¨S¦³¬D¾Ô¡C ¥ô¦óªº¸o¥Ç±N·|³Q®gÀ»¡C

This applied to weapons challenges and applied fighting styles. / ³o¾A¥Î©óªZ¾¹¬D¾Ô¦Ó¥BÀ³¥Î¾Ô°«­·®æ¡C
Free-for-alls were outside of school boundaries, and he had been badly beaten by gangs of jealous boys. / ¦Û¥Ñªº-¬°-¥þ³¡¬O¦b¾Ç®ÕÃä¬Éªº¥~Ãä¡A¦Ó¥B¥L¤w¸gÄY­«¦a³Q¶ú§ª¨k«Äªº²Õ´¥´¡C

Today's lesson covered stealth techniques, a new subject. Once again, the boy proved to have an aptitude for this new style. It focussed heavily on strategy and planning, and the child was excellent at both. / ¤µ¤Ñªº½Ò²[»\¤FÁô§Î§Þ³N¡A¤@­Ó·sªº¥DÃD¡C ¦A¤@¦¸¡A¨k«ÄÃÒ©ú¦³³oºØ·sªº­·®æ¸ê½è¡C ¥¦ focussed «Ü­«¦a¦bµ¦²¤¤W¦Ó¥B­p¹º,©M«Ä¤l¹ï¨âªÌ¬OÀu¨}ªº¡C
After hamstringing two of his opponents, dropping in on them unaware, he had been much praised by the coach. The coach loved him. / ¦b¤ÁÂ_»Lµ¬¨Ï¦¨¶_»L¥Lªº¹ï¤â¤¤ªº¤G­Ó¤§«á, ¶¶¹D«ô³X¥L­Ì¤£ª¾¹Dªº,¥L¤w¸g¦h³Q±Ð½mºÙÆg¡C ±Ð½m·R¥L¡C

After the injured boys had been taken to the infirmary, the remainder were dismissed to the showers. The coach was big on hygiene. Hygiene and cleanliness were vital, all important to the would-be soldier of the Luminous One; or so the coach said. Nonetheless, he made sure the boys were squeaky clean. / ¦b¨ü¶Ëªº¨k«Ä¤w¸g³Q³ß·Rµê®z¤§«á¡A³Ñ¾lªÌ³Q´¬±ó¨ì°}«B¡C ±Ð½m¬O¤jªº¦b½Ã¥Í«O°·¤W¡C ½Ã¥Í«O°·©M²M¼ä¬O­«­nªº, ©Ò¦³ªº­«­n¹ïµo¥úªº¨Ë¬°­x¤H¤@; ¥ª¥k±Ð½m»¡¡C µM¦Ó, ¥L½T©w¨k«Ä¬O§s§sÅTªº°®²b¡C

Personally. / ¿Ë¦Û¦a¡C

The blonde boy with the girl's face was a particular favorite of the coach. He was agile in combat, he was brilliant in strategy, he was astounding in weaponry; he was slim in shape, he was luxuriant in beauty, his barely pubescent body developing just enough to give a lush ripeness to his slender form. And his hair was glorious. The coach loved to run his fingers through his hair.. / ¥Ñ©ó¤k«ÄªºÁy¥Õ¦âªº¨k«Ä¬O±Ð½mªº¤@­Ó¯S§O³ßÅwªº¨Æª«¡C ¥L¬O±Ó±¶ªº¦b¾Ô°«¤¤,¥L¦bµ¦²¤¤è­±¬OÀéÄꪺ,¥L¬O¥O¤HÅåÀbªº¦bªZ¾¹¤¤; ¥L¦b¥~§Î¤W¬O½Gªº,¥L¬OÁc­Zªº¦b¬ü¤H,¥Lªº¶È¶È¨¬°÷µo®i§â¤@­Ó»a»AÁc­Zªº¦¨¼ôµ¹¥Lªº­]±ø§Î¦¡ªº´X¥G§®ÄÖªº¨­Å餤¡C ¦Ó¥B¥LªºÀY¾v¬O¥úºaªº¡C ±Ð½m·R¸g¹L¥LªºÀY¾v¶]¥Lªº¤â«ü¡C¡C

The boy closed his eyes, his mind numb to the sensations. / ¨k«Ä¹ï·PıÃö³¬¤F³Â¤ìªº¥L²´·ú¡A¥Lªº¤ß¡C

Now... / ²{¦b¡C¡C¡C

Zoltar tries his best to get the foolish woman out of his office. / Zoltar ºÉ¥þ¤O§â·MÄøªº¤k¤H»°¥X¥Lªº¿ì¤½«Ç¡C
Hasn't she hurt him enough? It had been months before their breakup, months even before the capture of the Earth woman, and this was months after that! Yet still Julia harped on it, apologising over and over. / ¦oÁÙ¨S¨¬°÷¶Ë®`¥L¶Ü? ¥¦¤w¸g¬O¥L­Ìªº°±¤î¤§«eªº¼Æ­Ó¤ë, ¼Æ­Ó¤ë¬Æ¦Ü¦b¦a²y¤k¤Hªº§ì¨ú¤§«e¡A©M³o¬O¼Æ­Ó¤ë¦b¨º¤§«á! ¤´µMÀR¤îªº¯ü²ú¨È¦b¥¦¤W¼u«µ½Ýµ^,¤@¦A¦a¹Dºp¡C
He had been hurt, but had been forgiving. Now he was starting to hate. / ¥L¤w¸g³Q¶Ë®`, ¦ý¬O¤w¸g¬O¼e¤jªº¡C ²{¦b¥L¥¿¦b¹ï¼¨«ë¶}©l¡C

His face had been his downfall, once again. Though it was her inspiration as a rebel, loyal to Aishe and the Restoration.. as a woman, he repulsed her. It made her feel like a lesbian and while she didn't have anything against lesbians well she just.. you know.. / ¥LªºÁy¤w¸g¬O¥Lªº°I±Ñ,¦A¤@¦¸¡C ÁöµM¥¦¬O¦p¤@­Ó«q®{ªº¦oÆF·P, ©¾¸Ûªº¹ï Aishe ©M«ì´_¡C¡C ¨­¬°¤@­Ó¤k¤H¡A¥L³v°h¤F¦o¡C ¥¦¨Ï¦o·Pı¹³¤@­Ó¤k¦P©ÊÅʦӥB·í¦o¶È¶È¤Ï¹ï¤k¦P©ÊÅʨS¦³¥ô¦ó¨Æ±o¦n¦oªº®É­Ô¡C¡C §Aª¾¹D¡C¡C

He knew. He'd known for years. Thirty years old and he was still a virgin, at least in the ethical sense. This was one of the reasons. / ¥Lª¾¹D¡C ¥L¤w¸gª¾¹Dªø¹F¼Æ¦~¤§¤[¡C ¤T¤Q·³©M¥L¤´µM¬O³B¤k, ¦Ü¤Ö¦b­Û²zªº·Pı¤¤¡C ³o¬O²z¥Ñ¤§¤@¡C

He cut off her words, switching to English, signifying a military meeting. Then, when he had her attention, he outlined her mission. / ¥L¤ÁÂ_¦o©Ò»¡ªº¸Ü,¹ï­^°ê¤HÂàÅÜ¡A¶H¼x¤@­Ó­x¨Æ·|ij¡C µM«á¡A·í¥L¦³¤F¦oªºª`·N®É­Ô,¥L·§²¤»¡©ú¤F¦oªº¥ô°È¡C

She was to land at their base in Finland, there to receive her orders. / ¦o­n¦bªâÄõªº¥L­Ì°ò¦µn³°, ¨º¸Ì±µ¨ü¦oªº¦¸§Ç¡C
Then she was to journey to Uganda, followed by the Congo and Kenya, to interfere with the rationing, and inflame the govornments. Hunger and politics were still the weaknesses of those countries, easily exploited by Spectra. From Kenya, she was to lead a mission to the trade conference in Osaka city, then to France to sabotage the vinyard harvests, then finally to return to Finland to await further orders. / µM«á¦o­n¹ï¯Q¤z¹F®È¦æ,³Q­èªG©MªÖ¨È¸òÀH, ¤zÂZ¨º©wÃB, ¦Ó¥B¿E«ã govornments¡C ÄȾj©M¬Fªv¤´µM¬O¨º¨Ç°ê®aªº®zÂI, ³QÀWÃЮe©ö¦a¶}µo¡C ±qªÖ¨È¡A¦o­n¤Þ¾É¤@­Ó¥ô°È¨«¦V¤j¨Á¥«ªº¶T©ö·|ij, µM«á¹ïªk°ê»W·N¯}Ãa vinyard ¦¬Ã¬, µM«á³Ì«á¦^¨ìªâÄõµ¥­Ô§ó¶i¤@¨Bªº¦¸§Ç¡C
She left smiling, confident, unaware. / ¦oÂ÷¶}·L¯ºªº¡M¦Û«Hªº¡M©M¤£ª¾¹Dªº¡C

He heard the chuckles, the giggles, the snickers growing to guffaws as the more intelligent of his soldiers deciphered the message hidden in the first letters of the mission sites. / ¥LÅ¥¨ì¤F¦Y¦Yªº¯ºÁn, ¨º¦Y¦Y¦a¯º, ¨º¦Y¦Y¦a¯º¼W¥[¨ì¶Ì¯º·í°µ·U§óÁo©ú¥Lªº³QĶ¸Ñ³QÂæb¥ô°È¦ì¸mªº²Ä¤@«Ê«H¤¤ªº°T®§­x¤H¡C

He felt better already. / ¥L¤w¸gı±o§óµÎªA¡C

Then... / ·í®É¡C¡C¡C

If it wasn't the Phys. Ed. coach it was the math teacher.. if it wasn't him then it was the headmaster.. if it wasn't him, it was someone else. / ¦pªG¥¦¤£¬O Phys ¡C Edmund¡C °V½m¥¦¬O¼Æ¾Ç¦Ñ®v¡C¡C ¦pªG¥¦¤£¬O¥L , ¨º»ò¥¦¬O®Õªø¡C¡C ¦pªG¥¦¤£¬O¥L, ¥¦¬O¨ä¥L¤H¡C

The boy had gotten in trouble for being late for his next class. It didn't matter that he had been detained by his previous teacher. The cane this time? No.. the strap, much worse. This teacher had a thing for spikes. Made for better discipline, he said. It didn't matter that he enjoyed watching the blood streaking the boys' pale flesh. / ¨k«Ä¤w¸g¬°¥h¥Lªº¤U­Ó¯Z¯Å¿ð¨ì¶i¤J³Â·Ð¡C ¥¦¨S¦³¦³­«¤jÃö«Y¥L¤w¸g³Q¥Lªº¥ý«e¦Ñ®v¦©¯d¡C ¤â§ú³o¦¸? ¸¹½X¡C ÷,¦h§óÃa¡C ³o¤@¦ì¦Ñ®v¬°ªø°v¦³¤F¤@¥ó¨Æª«¡C ¦³¯q©ó¤ñ¸û¦nªº¬ö«ß,¥L»¡¡C ¥¦¨S¦³¦³­«¤jÃö«Y¥L³ßÅw¬Ý¦å»r©b¨k«Äªº»a¥Õ¦×¡C

Unfeeling, the boy who looked like a girl put his slender wrists into the harnesses. Unfeeling he felt the shirt of his jumpjohn ripped away. He closed his eyes. / µL·P±¡ªº,¬Ý°_¨Ó¹³¤@­Ó³Q§â¥Lªº­]±ø¤âµÃ©ñ¤J°¨¨ãªº¤k«Ä¤@¼Ëªº¨k«Ä¡C µL·P±¡ªº¥L·Pı¤F³Q¼¹¶}Â÷¶}ªº¥L jumpjohn ªºÅ¨­m¡C ¥LÃö³¬¤F¥Lªº²´·ú¡C

The boy withdrew his senses, drawing away from the biting pain, closing his mind to the tickling, wet sensations that soon followed. At times like this, it seemed he was outside of himself, watching the blood spill, watching the pale form sway. He felt like a watcher in the walls, and wondered if that's what was meant by the phrase "ghaiana on the wall". The pain grew distant as the mind of the boy drew further away. / ¨k«ÄºM¦^¤F¥Lªº·Pı,µe»·Â÷¨ëµhªºµh­W,Ãö³¬¹ï¨º¯ÞªÏªº¥L¤ß,ÅÜÀã«Ü§Ö¸òÀHªº·Pı¡C ¦³®É³ßÅw³o,¥¦¦ü¥G¥L¬O¦b¥L¦Û¤vªº¥~Ãä,¬Ý¦å·¸¥X¡A¬Ý»a¥Õªº§Î¦¡°Ê·n¡C ¥L·Pı¹³Àð¾Àªº¤@­Ó¬Ý¦u¤H, ¦Ó¥BÃhºÃ¬O§_¨º¬O³Q¤ù»y " ¦bÀð¾À¤Wªº ghaiana" ·N¿×¤FªºªF¦è¡C ·í¨k«Äªº¤ßÂ÷¶}§ó¶i¤@¨B©Ôªº®É­Ô¡Aµh­WÅÜ»·¡C

When it was over, the teacher drew his hand up the back of the boy's neck and told him it was such a shame to have to stain such lovely hair... / ·í¥¦µ²§ôªº®É­Ô,¦Ñ®vÀÀ­q¥Lªº¤â¨k«Äªº²ä¤l­I­±¦Ó¥B§i¶D¤F¥L¥¦¬O¤@­Ó¦p¦¹²Û·\¥²¶·ªg¬V¦p¦¹¥i·RªºÀY¾v¡C¡C¡C

Now... / ²{¦b¡C¡C¡C

YOU ARE INCOMPETANT! / §A¬O INCOMPETANT!

"I was delayed, O Mighty Spirit" / " §Ú³Q©µ¿ð,O «Ü»¤©ä "

YOU ARE USELESS TO ME! WHEN WILL YOU ACCOMPLISH THE INVASION OF EARTH / ¹ï§Ú§A¬O¨S¦³¥Îªº! §A±N·í§¹¦¨¹ï¦a²yªº«I¥Ç
AS YOU ARE ASKED? YOU GIVE ME PLANS, YOU GIVE ME PROMISES, BUT YOU DO / ·í§A³Q°Ý? §Aµ¹§Ú­p¹º,§Aµ¹§Ú©Ó¿Õ¡A¦ý¬O§A°µ
NOT GIVE ME EARTH! / ¤£µ¹§Ú¦a²y!

"If G-Force could but be.." / " ¦pªG G- ¤O¶q¥i¥H¦ý¬O¡C¡C"

G-FORCE IS CRIPPLED! YOU HAVE THEIR FEMALE! YOU HAVE ASSURED ME TIME / G-¤O¶q³Q·l¶Ë! §A¦³¥L­Ìªº¤k©Ê! §A¤w¸g«Oµý§Ú©w®É
AND AGAIN THAT SHE IS THEIR MOST VALUABLE MEMBER! DO YOU LIE TO ME? / ¦Ó¥B¦A¤@¦¸¨º¦o¬O¥L­Ìªº³Ì¦³»ù­Èªº¦¨­û! §A¹ï§Ú»¡ÁÀ¶Ü?

"Of course not, Great and Luminous Protector. Is it not impossible to lie in your presence? Have I not delivered that female to you? Does not G-Force suffer for her lack?" / " ·íµM¤£,¤j®v©Mµo¥úªº«OÅ@ªÌ¡C ¥¦¤£¬O¤£¥i¯àªº¦b§A­±«e½öµÛ¶Ü? §ÚÁÙ¨S»¼°e¨º¤@¦ì¤k©Êµ¹§A¶Ü? ¤£ G-¤O¶q¬°¦oªº¯Ê¥F¾D¨ü?"

YET THEY ARE STILL COMPETANT ENOUGH TO CONFOUND YOU AND YOUR ENTIRE, / µM¦Ó¥L­ÌÀR¤îªº¬O¥R¨¬¨Ï²V²c§Aªº COMPETANT ©M§Aªº¾ã­Ó,
STUPID ARMY! / ·MÄøªº³°­x!

...you got the stupid part right... / ¡C¡C¡C§A±o¨ì¤F·MÄøªº³¡¥÷Åv§Q¡C¡C¡C

WHAT??? / ¤°»ò???

"Er..I was merely agreeing with you, O Mighty One. If my army were of better men I might surely have victory over G-Force" / "Er¡C¡C§Ú¥¿¦b¥u¦P·N§A, O ¦³¶Õ¤Oªº¡C ¦pªG§Úªº­x¶¤¬O§ó¦nªº¨k¤H§Ú¥i¯à·íµM¦³¦b G ¤Wªº³Ó§Q-¤O¶q"

EXCUSES, EXCUSES, EXCUSES ARE ALL I GET FROM YOU! THIS IS YOUR LAST / ÂǤf¡AÂǤf, ÂǤf¬O¥þ³¡§Ú±q§A±o¨ì! ³o³Ì«á¬O§Aªº
CHANCE, YOU MISERABLE EXCUSE FOR A LIVING BEING. IF YOU FAIL IN THIS / °¸µMµo¥Í, §A¹ï©ó¬¡ªº¦s¦b´dºGªºÂǤf¡C ¦pªG§A¦b³o¤¤¥¢±Ñ
MISSION, YOU AND YOUR ENTIRE MISERABLE PLANET WILL BE WIPED FROM THE / ¥ô°È, §A©M§Aªº¾ã­Ó´dºGªº¦æ¬P±N³QÀ¿±q¨º
FACE OF CREATION, AND I SHALL LAUGH AT YOUR RUIN. NOW BEGONE!! / ³Ð³yªº­±»ª,©M§Ú±N¯º§Aªº·´·À¡C ²{¦b¨«¶}!!

The audience over, Zoltar closes the heavy doors behind him and sighs. / Å¥²³µ²§ô¡A Zoltar Ãö¤W¦b¥L©M¼Û®§«á­±ªº­«ªù¡C

"FUCK me gently.............." / "³vº¥¦a©Ê¥æ§Ú.............."

Then... / ·í®É¡C¡C¡C

A large bruise colours Mala's eye and she idly pulls handfulls of hair from her head. The girls' school is no kinder to its pupils, though certain...services...are not asked of them as often as they are over in the boys' school. / ¤jªº·ï¶Ë§â Mala's ªº²´·ú¶îÃC¦â¡A¦Ó¥B¦oÃi´k¦a©Ô¨Ó¦Û¦oªºÀYÀY¾vªº handfulls ¡C ¹ï¥¦ªº¾Ç¥Í¤k«Äªº¾Ç®Õ¤£¤ñ¸û¿Ë¤Á,ÁöµM½T©w¡C¡C¡CªA°È¡C¡C¡C¨S³Q¹³¥L­Ì¹L«×¬O¦b¨k«Äªº¾Ç®Õ¤¤¤@¼Ëªº®É±`¥L­Ì°Ý¡C

They huddle beneath the bushes lining the road way, their eyes wary, darting through the underbrush, scanning the night. The moons show them the food she has smuggled out to her brother, show them the rags he has brought for her. She shuffles her legs, but the night hides the thick blood upon her thighs. / ¥L­Ì¦b¸G¾ðÂOŨ¸Ì¤§¤U±ÀÀ½¹D¸ô¤èªk, ¥L­Ìªº²´·ú¤p¤ßªº,§ë®g¹L¾ðªL¤Uªº¯óÂO¡A±½´y©]±ß¡C ½Ã¬Pµ¹¥L­Ì¬Ý­¹ª«¦o¤w¸g¹ï¦oªº¥S§Ì°½¹B¥X, µ¹¥L­Ì¬Ý¸H¥¬¥L¤w¸g¬°¦o±a¡C ¦o¦b¦oªº¤j»L¤§¤W©ì¦²¦oªº»L , ¦ý¬O©]±ßÃ~¥Ö«pªº¦å¡C

The boy groans in pain, doubling over, his arms clutching his tummy. / ¨k«Ä©D§uµh­Wªº,µ²§ô¥[­¿,¥Lªº§ì¨c¥Lªº­G¤âÁu¡C
Mala was not long into the times of the moons, but not long after, he too started having the pain. She looks at him, worry creasing her forehead, her skinny arms about his shoulders, holding him until the spasm has passed. Then it is his turn to hold her, as her body echoes his. / Mala ¶i¤J®É¥Nªº½Ã¬P¤§¤º¤£ªø¡A¦ý¬O¤£¦b¤[¤§«á¡A¥L¤]¶}©l¦³µh­W¡C ¦o¬Ý¥L,·Ð´oºP²ª¦oªº«eÃB , Ãö©ó¥LªºªÓ¦oÁ¡¤âÁu, ®»¦í¥Lª½¨ì©âµ¬¤w¸g³q¹L¡C µM«á½ü¨ì¥L®»¦í¦o, ·í¦oªº¨­ÅéÀHÁnªþ©M¤§®É¥Lªº¡C

Neither school will give the children pain relievers. They are too important for that. Soon, the pain will corrupt the boy's body, rendering him crippled, unable to walk. Then the Luminous One himself will order a medical done. The boy's secret will be discovered, his abberant organs removed, his body bombarded with the drugs that will keep him functional to the end of his days. / ¨S¦³¤@©Ò¾Ç®Õ±Nµ¹«Ä¤l¤îµhÃÄ¡C ¥L­Ì¹ï¨º¬O¤Ó­«­nªº¡C «Ü§Ö,µh­W±N¨Ï¨k«Äªº¨­Åé»GÄê, ½Ķ¥L·l¶Ë, ¤£¯à¨«¡C µM«áµo¥ú¤@¥L¦Û¤v±N©R¥O³Q°µªºÂå¥Í¡C ¨k«Äªº¯µ±K±N³Qµo²{,¥Lªº abberant ¾¹©x²¾¨«,¥Lªº¨­Åé¥H¥Lªº¼Æ¤Ñ±N¬°¥Øªº¨Ï¥L«O«ù¥\¯àªºÃį¥À»¡C

But this will happen in a future time. For the present, hiding in the night, from the guards who enforce the curfews, the boy must stifle his cries. / ¦ý¬O³o¦b¥¼¨Ó®É¶¡¤¤±Nµo¥Í¡C ²{¦b ,©]±ßÂÃ,±q°õ¦æ®d¸Tªº¦u½Ã¡A¨k«Ä¤@©w­n¨Ï¥Lªº­úÁn¤£¯à©I§l¡C

Now... / ²{¦b¡C¡C¡C

"So then why won't you go with me?" the woman asks, her Gaudaliash accent pronounced though she spoke the language fluently. He turns away and does not answer. The soldiers in the room are silent, concentrating on their assigned tasks. A few duck out, claiming bathroom break, tchekna break, anything to get them out of the way of the impending eruption. Others stay, some to watch, some to support. / " ¦p¦¹ªºµM«á¬°¤°»ò±N¤£§A©M§Ú¥h"? ¤k¤H°Ý, ¦oªº³Qµo­µªº Gaudaliash ¤f­µÁöµM¦o¬y§Q¦a»¡¤F»y¨¥¡C ¥LÂà¦VÂ÷¶}¨Ã¥B¤£¦^µª¡C ­x¤H¦b©Ð¶¡¤¤¨HÀq,±Mª`©ó¥L­Ìªº¤À°t¤u§@¡C ¦b¥~ªº¤@¨ÇÀn¤l,­n¨D¯D«Ç¥ð®§¡A tchekna ¥ð®§, ¥ô¦ó¨Æ§â¥L­Ì»°¥X¹GªñªºÃzµo¤èªk¡C ¨ä¥¦°±¯d, ¤@¨Ç¬Ý, ¤@¨Ç¤ä«ù¡C
Another toadie is being rejected. / ¥t¥~ toadie ¥¿¦b³Q©Úµ´¡C

"Whats the matter? Don't you like me?" the woman pouts. She is wearing too much perfume, making the nostrils of some of the watching soldiers bleed. / " «ç»ò¨Æ¥ó? §A¤£³ßÅw§Ú?"¤k¤Häþ¼L¡C ¦o¥¿¦b¬ïµÛ¤Ó¦h­»¤ô,»s³y¤@¨Ç¬Ý­x¤H¥X¦åªº»ó¤Õ¡C

The man in the mask turns then, staring at her with eyes like stone. / °²­±¨ãªº¨k¤HµM«áÂà,¥H¹³¥ÛÀYªº²´·ú¨nµÛ¦o¬Ý¡C
His voice is heavily accented, a sure sign of his displeasure, "No. I do not like you. You are dismissed." He tries to move around her. / ¥LªºÁn­µ«Ü­«¦a³Q­«Åª,¥Lªº¤£§Ö¼Öªº¤@­Ó½T«H²Å¸¹," ¸¹½X§Ú¤£³ßÅw§A¡C §A³Q¸Ñ´²¡C"¥L¸ÕµÛ¨ì³B²¾°Ê¦o¡C
She blocks his way. / ¦oªý¶ë¥Lªº¤èªk¡C

"Whats the matter with me, huh? Aren't my tits big enough for you? My lips aren't full enough? What's the matter, eh?" / " «ç»ò¨Æ¥ó¥Ñ©ó§Ú,­ó!? §Úªº¤s³¶¹ï§A¬O¤£°÷¤jªº¶Ü? §Úªº®B¤£¬O°÷¥Rº¡ªº? «ç»ò¤F,eh?"

The face tips back upon the long neck, to regard her down the nose of the mask. No, her lips are offensive, goopy with too much lipstick. / Áy¦bªøªº²ä¤l¤§¤W¦V«á¦a´£¥Ü, §â¦oµø¬°¤U¨Ó°²­±¨ãªº»ó¤l¡C ¤£¡A¦oªº®B¬O¤£´r§Öªº,©M¤Ó¦h¤f¬õªº goopy¡C
Her breasts are acceptable, but only in and of themselves. She might be considered attractive, he mused, if she had a decent make-up artist and a personality. / ¦oªº¯Ý³¡¬O¥i±µ¨üªº, ¦ý¬O¥u¦³¦b©M¥L­Ì¦Û¤v¡C ¦o¥i¯à³Q»{¬°§l¤Þ¤Hªº,¥L¨I«ä,¦pªG¦o¦³¤F¤@­Ó¬Û·í¦nªº¤ÆùÛÃÀ³N®a©M­Ó©Ê¡C

She swayed up to him, pressing herself against him, pulling his face down to hers. "I know what you want," she whispered. / ¦o·n°Ê¥Ñ¥L¨M©w,¤Ï¹ï¥LÀ£­¢¦o¦Û¤v¡A§â¥LªºÁy©Ô¤U¨ì¦oªº¡C " §Úª¾¹D§A©Ò­nªº ",¦o¦Õ»y¡C

Zoltar caught the eye of Major Tendaky, biting his lip. Tendaky shook his head wryly. No, she didn't know what Zoltar wanted.. she could never know. / Zoltar ¤Þ°_¥D­n Tendaky ªºª`·N,«r¥Lªº®B¡C Tendaky §á¬n¦a·nÀY¡C ¤£¡A¦o¨S¦³ª¾¹D Zoltar ·Q­nªº¡C¡C ¦oµLªkª¾¹D¡C

He informed her of such, then pushed her aside as he strode over to view Tendaky's monitor. His eyes skimmed over the data, his mind trying to shut out the whore. "You are dismissed," he told her again. / ¥L§iª¾¦o¦p¦¹ªº, µM«á±À°Ê¦oªº®Ç¥Õ·í°µ¥Lµ²§ôÁÚ¤j¨B¨«¬Ý Tendaky's ªººÊµø¾¹¡C ¥Lªº¦b¸ê®Æ¤§¤W³Q²¤Åªªº²´·ú¡A¥Lªº¹Á¸ÕÃö¤W¥X±@§²ªº¤ß¡C " §A³Q¸Ñ´² ",¥L¦A¤@¦¸§i¶D¤F¦o¡C

Her face turned ugly. / ¦oªºÁyÅÜÁà­®ªº¡C

"Or maybe its not me," she said waspishly, "Maybe its you. Maybe you don't like women at all. Maybe that's why you're never seen with any. / "©Î¤]³\¥¦ªº¤£§Ú ," ¦o¦p¶À¸Á¦a»¡," ¤]³\¥¦ªº§A¡C ¤]³\§A¤£³ßÅw¦b¥þ³¡ªº¤k¤H¡C ¤]³\¨º¬O , §A¬°¤°»ò±q¤£»P¥ô¦ó¤@°_¨£¨ì¡C
You're into boys aren't you?" / §A³ßÅw¨k«Ä¤£¬O§A?"

He moved towards the corridor. She blocked him. / ¥L¦V¨«´Y²¾°Ê¡C ¦oªý¶ë¤F¥L¡C

"You're a fag, aren't you? That's what you're problem is, you don't like women at all! You're a fucking bum-boy aren't you, just a fucking faggot who hasn't got enough manhood for a real woman. Boys are all you can g...*" / "§A¬O¦Y¤Oªº¤u§@, §A¤£¬O? ¨º¬O§A©Ò¬O°ÝÃDªº¬O,§A¤@ÂI¤]¤£³ßÅw¤k¤H! §A¬O©Ê¥æ¹C¿ºªÌ-¨k«Ä¤£¬O§A, ¥u¬O¤@­Ó¨S¦³¬°¤@­Ó¯u¥¿ªº¤k¤H±o¨ì¥R¨¬ªº¦¨¦~©Ê¥æ®ã§â¡C ¨k«Ä¬O§A±N g ¸Ë©óÅøÀYªº¥þ³¡¡C¡C¡C*"

The woman's voice cut off suddenly in the silent room. Those soldiers who had stayed to watch found themselves wishing they had joined their fellows on an invented break. Major Tendaky kept his eyes rivetted on his monitor. No one looked at the body of the woman pinned to the wall. / ¤k¤HªºÁn­µ¬ðµM¦b¨HÀqªº©Ð¶¡¤¤¤ÁÂ_¡C ¨º¨Ç¤w¸g°±¯d¬Ýµo²{¥L­Ì¦Û¤vÄ@¥L­Ì¤w¸g°Ñ¥[¦b³Qµo©úªº¥ð®§¤Wªº¥L­Ì¤H­x¤H¡C ¥D­nªº Tendaky «O«ù¤F¦b¥LªººÊµø¾¹¤W³Q¥Î¹g°v©T©wªº¥L²´·ú¡C ¨S¦³¤H¬Ý³Q¥Î°w§O¦í¨ìÀð¾Àªº¤k¤H¨­Åé¡C

There were two main reasons why Zoltar was still a virgin. This, he mused as he withdrew his fingers from the woman's shattered eye socket, was the second. / ¦³¤G¥D­n³¡¥÷²z¥Ñ Zoltar ¬°¤°»ò¤´µM¬O³B¤k¡C ³o,·í¥LºM¦^¤F¨Ó¦Û³Q¥´¸H²´·ú´¡®yªº¤k¤H¥L¤â«üªº®É­Ô¡A¥L¨I«ä,¬O¬í¡C

* * * / ***

Night had fallen long ago, and the winter winds blew. It was a dry storm -- too cold for snow to fall, the winds howled, the clouds brooded and the lightning crackled through the dry air. The temperature was dropping rapidly and would reach -50C before midnight. / ©]±ß«Ü¤[¥H«e¤w¸g¸¨¤U¡A¦Ó¥B¥V¤Ñ­·§j¡C ¥¦¬O¤@°}°®ªº¼É­·«B -- ¤Ó´H§Nªº³·¦ÓµLªk¸¨¤U,³Q¨g§pªº­·¡A³Q¨I«äªº¶³©M³Qµo¥X°ÔÁn¹L°®ªºªÅ®ð°{¹q¡C ·Å«×¥¿¦b§Ö³t¦a­°§C©M±N·|½d³ò -¦b¤È©]¤§«eªº 50C¡C

The man in the mask shrugged his cloak closer about him, and trudged to his vehicle. / °²­±¨ãªº¨k¤HÃö©ó¥LÁqªÓ¤F¤ñ¸û¾aªñªº¥L¤æ½´, ¦Ó¥B¨I­«¦a¨«¨ì¥Lªº¨®½ø¡C

The burning had been in his veins all day; time to get the implants changed again. It was too soon, and part of him worried over it, but the events of the day had worn him down. The despair was on him, and right now, Zoltar didn't care. Another delay had been reported on / ¿N¤w¸g¬O¾ã¤Ñ¦b¥LªºÀR¯ß¤¤; ®É¶¡¨Ï¦A¤@¦¸³Q§ïÅܪº´Ó¤J¾¹¡C ¥¦¤Ó«Ü§Ö, ©M¥Lªº³¡¥÷µJ¼{ªº¦b¥¦¤§¤W¡A¦ý¬O¨º¤Ñªº¨Æ¥ó¤w¸g§â¥L¬ï¤U¨Ó¡C µ´±æ¦b¥L¨­¤W¡A¦Ó¥B¥ß¨è¡A Zoltar ¨S¦³Ãö¤ß¡C ¥t¥~©µ¿ð¤w¸g³Q³ø§i¦b
Taigh nan Ro`in, another failure on Earth, another strip off his back from the Spirit (who still hadn't vaporized the planet, in spite of repeated threats). Zoltar mused privately that the Spirit would make good on its promises about the same time as he made good on his. / Taigh nan Ro¦b,¦b¦a²y¤Wªº¥t¤@­Ó¥¢±Ñ, ±qºë¯«ªº¦b¥L­I³¡¥~ªº¥tªø±ø.( ½Ö¤´µM¨S¦³¨Ï¦æ¬P»]µo,¾¨ºÞ­«½Æªº«Â¯Ù) Zoltar ¨p¤U¨I«ä¡Aºë¯«±N·|¼i¦æ¥¦ªº©Ó¿ÕÃö©ó¨º¬Û¦Pªº®É¶¡·í¥L¼i¦æ¥Lªº¡C

The despair was washing over him. He knew he should inform the medics, allow himself to be taken into custody. He didn't want to. He was somewhat disappointed that the vehicle didn't break down, leaving him to freeze to death in the sub-zero night. He'd heard that freezing was a comfortable way to die. Instead he arrived unfrozen at Taigh / µ´±æ¥¿¦b¥L¤§¤W²M¬~¡C ¥L»{ÃÑ¡A¥LÀ³¸Ó§iª¾­`½¶ÄÝ´Óª«,Åý¥L¦Û¤v¶i¤JºÊÅ@¤§¤º³Q®³¡C ¥L¨S¦³·Q­n¨ì¡C ¥L²¤·L¥¢±æ¡A¨®½ø¨S¦³À£­Ë, Åý¥L¦b¤l¹s©]±ß¤º­áµ²¦º¤F¡C ¥L¤w¸gÅ¥¨ì¨º¾®©T¬O¦ºªº¤@­ÓµÎªAªº¤èªk¡C ¬Û¤Ïªº¥L¦b Taigh ¨ì¹F¤£­áµ²
Iarainn. / Iarainn¡C

He walked through the mansion to his private rooms; small, close, windowless, smelling faintly of tin and milk. There he pulled off the hated mask. He lit a candle, then looked into the mirror. / ¥L¨«¹L¨ì¥Lªº¨p¤H©Ð¶¡ªº¤j·H; ¤pªº¡M±µªñªº¡M©MµLµ¡¤áªº,¿ü©M¤û¥¤·L®z¦a»D¡C ¦b¨º¸Ì¥L¶¶§Q§¹¦¨³Q¼¨«ëªº°²­±¨ã¡C ¥Lµo«G¤F¤@®ÚÄúÀë,µM«á½Õ¬dÃè¤l¡C

The candle cast shadows, making his face longer, more gaunt. It was not wholly illusion, he knew, but an exaggeration of the effects of a miserable day, and the withdrawal of medication. He stared at his reflection until his eyes slid into their own world, and the face in the mirror changed. / ÄúÀë§ë¼v¹³,¨Ï¥LªºÁyÅܦ¨§óªø,§ó¼¬±|ªº¡C ¥¦¤£¾ã­Ó¤Û¼v,¥Lª¾¹D, ¦ý¬O¤@­Ó´dºGªº¤é¤l®ÄªGªº¸Ø±i , ©MÃĪ«ªvÀøªººM¦^¡C ¥L¨nµÛ¥Lªº¤Ï¬M¬Ýª½¨ì¥Lªº¶i¤J¥L­Ì¦Û¤vªº¥@¬É , ©M³Q§ïÅܪºÃè¤lÁy¤§¤º³Q·Æ°Êªº²´·ú¡C

He liked to watch the changes. Some people said they were the faces of past lives, some that they were reflections of who you'd have been, had you made different choices. Others claimed they were the ghosts of the ancesters, but whether they came to haunt or to help, they couldn't say. / ¥L³ßÅw¬Ý§ïÅÜ¡C ¤@¨Ç¤H»¡¡A¥L­Ì¬O¹L¥h¥Í©Rªº­±»ª, ¤@¨Ç¥L­Ì¬O¤Ï¬M½Ö§A¦³¬O,Åý§A§@¤£¦Pªº¿ï¾Ü¡C ¨ä¥¦­n¨D¡A¥L­Ì¬O ancesters ªº°­,¦ý¬O§_¥L­Ì¨Ó±`¨ì¨Ã¥BÀ°§U,¥L­ÌµLªk»¡¡C

There were those who claimed they were the faces of those you had loved throughout your lives. He thought of this as the face resolved into that of the Earth woman. / ¦³¨º¨Ç­n¨D¥L­Ì¬OÁyªº¤H¨º¨Ç§A¦b§Aªº¥Í©R¦U³B¤w¸g·R¡C ·íÁy¶i¤J¦a²y¤k¤Hªº¤§¤º¨M©wªº®É­Ô¡A¥L·Q¨ì³o¡C

She was beautiful, he thought. Her face was unremarkable, neither etherially beautiful nor plain, but it was of a common character to / ¦o«Ü¬üÄR,¥L·Q¡C ¦oªºÁy¬O¤£¥O¤Hª`¥Øªº, ¨S¦³ etherially ¬üÄRªº¤]¤£¥­­ì, ¦ý¬O¥¦¬O¤@­Ó´¶³qªº­Ó©Ê¨ì
Earth and Spectra alike. Her body was slim, without much to spare, tight, controlled and strong. Her breasts were well-proportioned for her slimness, her legs long, showing the marks of one who was pushed hard during her childhood. But her body was not what made her beautiful to Zoltar. / ¤@¼Ëªº¦a²y©MÀWÃСC ¦oªº¨­Åé¬O½Gªº, ¨S¦³«Ü¦h¼e®¤,ºòªº¡M¨ü¬ù§ôªº©M±j¡C ¦oªº¯Ý³¡«Ü¦n-¹ï©ó¦oªº½G¬O«ö¤ñ¨Òªº¡A¦o»L´÷±æ, Åã¥Ü³Q¦b¦oªº«Äµ£®É´Á´Á¶¡§V¤O¦a±À°Êªº¤@¼Ð»x¡C ¦ý¬O¦oªº¨­Åé¬O¤£¤°»ò»s³y¦oªº¬üÄR¨ì Zoltar¡C

It was her mind which fascinated him. / ¥¦¬O¦oªº¥O¤H¤J¯«¤F¥Lªº¤ß¡C

Never had he seen such a contradiction, such conflict between a person's personal and professional selves. Princess Jocasta was a shy, self-conscious person who preferred to be left alone whenever possible. / ¥L±q¥¼¨£¨ì¤@­Ó¦p¦¹¥Ù¬Þ, ¤Hªº­Ó¤H©M±M·~¤H¤h¤§¶¡ªº¦p¦¹½Ä¬ð¦Û¤v¡C Thebes«°ªºLaius¤§¤ý¦m¤½¥D¬O®`²Û¡A°¾·R¿W¦Û¦a³Q¯d¤Uªº¦Û§Ú·NÃѱjªº¤HµL½×¦ó®É¥i¯àªº¡C
The Dove, however, was a brilliant logician, gifted with leaps of intuition that had brought her swiftly and secretly into the Spectran military computer networks. While luck was an element in any act of hackery, it still amazed him that she had succeeded in hacking into his own personal office computer, while he was using it, no less! If he hadn't had to access that one directory... It was still his private entertainment, arranging new leaks when existing ones were discovered and shut down, watching the speed at which she discovered and made use of them. Her discretion in the files she chose to steal, her choices in codes through which to phreak -- she had carried on a one-woman espionage of the Spectran military secrets, more effectively than any team of Zoltar's spies. He privately applauded her genius, and marvelled at how utterly insignificant she seemed to consider herself. / ÂF¤l,µM¦Ó,¬O¤@­ÓÀéÄꪺ½×²z¾ÇªÌ,¥H¤w¸g¶i¤J Spectran ­x¨Æ¹q¸£ºô¸ô¤§¤º«Ü§Ö¦a¦Ó¥B·t¤¤±a¦oªºª½Ä±¸õÅD½á¤©¡C ¹B®ð¬O¥ô¦ó hackery ªº¦æ¬°¤@ºØ¤¸¯À¡A¤£¹L¥¦¤´µM¨Ï¥L¦YÅå¤F¦o¤w¸g¦¨¥\¦a¶i¤J¥Lªº¦Û¤v¿ì¤½«Ç¹q¸£¤§¤º¬å¼A,·í¥L¬O¨Ï¥Î¥¦,¨S¦³¤ñ¸û¤Ö¶qªº®É­Ô! ¦pªG¥L¤£¥²¶·¨ú±o¨º¤@­Ó¥Ø¿ý¡C¡C¡C ¥¦¤´µM¬O¥Lªº¨p¤H®T¼Ö, ¦w±Æ·sªºº|¬}·í²{¦³ªº¤@¨Ç³Qµo²{¦Ó¥BÃö³¬ , ¬Ý¦oµo²{¦Ó¥B§Q¥Î¥L­Ìªº³t«×®É­Ô¡C Àɮתº¦o·V­«¦o¿ï¾Ü°½, ¦oªº¿ï¾Ü¦b±K½X¤¤¸g¹L¨ì phreak-- ¦o¤w¸gÄ~Äò Spectran ­x¨Æ¯µ±Kªº¤@­Ó¤@­Ó¤k¤H¶¡¿Ò²Õ´, §ó¦³®Ä¦a¶W¹L¥ô¦ó Zoltar's ªº¶¡¿Ò¤p²Õ¡C ¥L¨p¤U©ç¤â³Üªö¤F¦oªº¤Ñ¤~, ¦Ó¥B¹É¹ÉºÙ©_¦p¦ó§¹¥þµL¨¬»´­«¦o¦ü¥G¦Ò¼{¦o¦Û¤v¡C

Ah, but she was an impossible dream anyways. She was of Earth, a world with which they were at war. While they might be personally friendly, they were political enemies. Besides.. after Julia, he'd promised himself. Never again. / °Ú,¦ý¬O¦o¬OµL½×¦p¦ó¤@­Ó¤£¥i¯àªº¹Ú¡C ¦o¬O¦a²y, ¤@­Ó¥L­Ì¦b¾Ôª§ªº¥@¬É¡C ¥L­Ì¥i¯à¿Ë¦Û¤Í¦n¡A¤£¹L¥L­Ì¬O¬Fªvªº¼Ä¤H¡C ¦¹¥~¡C¡C ¦b¯ü²ú¨È¤§«á¡A¥L¦³µªÀ³¤F¥L¦Û¤v¡C ±q¤£¦A¤@¦¸¡C

He tore his eyes away from the mirror, the image of Princess shattering, reforming into his own face again. The message indicator on his computer was flashing. He didn't want to look at them. Numbly, he keyed for them, read them, then noticed something wrong. / ¥L¼¹¯}¤F¥Lªº²´·ú»·Â÷Ãè¤l,¥´¸H¡A¦A¤@¦¸¶i¤J¥L¦Û¤vªºÁy¤§¤º§ï­²ªº¤½¥D¼v¹³¡C ¦b¥Lªº¹q¸£¤Wªº°T®§«ü¥Ü¾¹¥¿¦b°{²{¡C ¥L¨S¦³·Q­n¬Ý¥L­Ì¡C ¥¢¥hª¾Ä±¡A¥L¬°¥L­ÌÁä¤J,Ū¥L­Ì,µM«áª`·N¦³¤ò¯f¡C

Someone had hacked his personal file, deleting.. one? two?.. of the messages. His brow creased in puzzlement as he set about to identify the files. / ¬Y¤H¤w¸g¬å¼A¥Lªº­Ó¤HÀÉ®×,§R°£¡C¡C ¤@? ¤G?¡C¡C °T®§¡C ·í¥LµÛ¤â±q¨ÆÃѧOÀɮתº®É­Ô¡A¥Lªº¬Ü¤ò¦b°g´b¤¤ºP²ª¡C

It didn't take long. Whoever had done it didn't have as much skill with computers as Zoltar did. Not G-3 then, he thought as the reconstructed file appeared on his screen. / ¥¦¨S¦³¤[®³¡C ¥ô¦ó¤H¤w¸g°µ·í Zoltar °µªº®É­Ô¡A¥¦¥H¹q¸£¨S¦³¦p«Ü¦hªº§Þ³N¡C ¤£¬O G-3 µM«á¡A·í³Q­««ØªºÀɮצb¥Lªº¿Ã¹õ¤W¥X²{ªº®É­Ô¡A¥L·Q¡C

Then... / ·í®É¡C¡C¡C

They had been granted a day of rest, some time to go out into the world. Mother Aranya was going to take them into her scented house, give them treats and let them watch her make pies and roasts and all sorts of wonderful things. She would let him play with her spindle again, then she was going to teach him to spin at the wheel. Today, she had said, she would let him try the big loom, and she would make him a new shirt with her sewing machine, out of the cloth she had woven herself. Then.... maybe.... / ¥L­Ì¤w¸g³Q¤¹³\¤@¤Ñªº¥ð®§, ¼Æ®É¶¡¥X¥h¶i¤J¥@¬É¡C Aranya ¥À¿Ë±N­n¶i¤J¦o¤§¤º±a¥L­Ì»D¥X©Ð¤l,µ¹¥L­Ì®bÅW¦Ó¥BÅý¥L­Ì¬Ý¦o»s³y¬£©M¯N¦×©M©Ò¦³ªº¥O¤HÅå©_ªº¨Æª«¡C ¦o±N·|Åý¥L¦A¤@¦¸©M¦oªº¯½¿õª±,µM«á¦o±N­n±Ð¥L¦b½ü¤l§Ö³t±ÛÂà¡C ¤µ¤Ñ,¦o¤w¸g»¡,¦o±N·|Åý¥L¸Õ¤jªºÂ´¥¬¾÷¡A¦Ó¥B¦o±N·|¥H¦oªºµôÁ_¾÷¾¹¨Ï¥L¦¨¬°¤@¥ó·sªºÅ¨­m,±q¦o¤w¸g°w´¦o¦Û¤vªº¥¬®Æ¡C µM«á.... ¤]³\....

He closed his mind to the thought. Mother Aranya had impressed upon him many times how important it was. He believed her. Mother Aranya never broke her promises. Everything she told him was true. / ¥LÃö³¬¤F¹ï·Qªkªº¥L¤ß¡C Aranya ¥À¿Ë¤w¸g¦b¥L¤§¤W³\¦h¦¸·P°Ê¦p¦ó­«­nªº¥¦¬O¡C ¥L¬Û«H¦o¡C Aranya ¥À¿Ë±q¤£Â_±¼¤F¦oªº©Ó¿Õ¡C ¨C¥ó¨Æª«¦o§i¶D¤F¥L¬O¯u¹êªº¡C

He waited by the clemaya trees, waiting for Mala. She was going to be meeting him soon, then they would go to Mother Aranya's house. He looked up at the sun, thinking it later than they had agreed. Perhaps she had been.. detained. It had happened to him, it had happened to her. / ¥LÂÇµÛ clemaya ¾ðµ¥­Ô,µ¥­Ô Mala ¡C ¦o±N­n¥¿¦b«Ü§Ö¹J¨£¥L,µM«á¥L­Ì±N·|¥h¥À¿Ë Aranya's ªº©Ð¤l¡C ¥L¬Ý¦b¤Ó¶§¡A·Q¥¦¤ñ¥L­Ì§óµy«á¤w¸g¦P·N¤W­±¡C ¤]³\¦o¬O¡C¡C ¦©¯d¡C ¥¦¤w¸gµo¥Í¦b¥L¨­¤W,¥¦¤w¸gµo¥Í¦b¦o¨­¤W¡C

He waited, watching the shadows grow longer, fraction by infinitesimal fraction. He sat on the green grass, chewing a stalk of natyan. A shadow fell across him. / ¥Lµ¥­Ô,¬Ý¼v¹³Åܤñ¸ûªøªº,·¥¤p¤À¼Æªº¤À¼Æ¡C ¥L§¤¦bºñ¦âªº¯ó¤W,©CÄZ natyan ªº²ô¡C ¤@­Ó¼v¹³¶V¹L¥L¶^¸¨¡C

"Hey, little girl, what are you doing sitting there for?" / " ¶Ù¡A¤p¤k«Ä, §A¥¿¦b¨º¸Ì°µ®y¦ì¦w±Æ¤°»ò¬°"?

He looked up, and made out the face of the man, sillhouetted against the sun. / ¥L¬Ý¦b,¤W­±¦Ó¥B¤F¸Ñ¨k¤HªºÁy,¹ï§Ü¤Ó¶§ªº sillhouetted¡C

Now... / ²{¦b¡C¡C¡C

The missing child, nine year old Kholvailla Alainne, had been found. / ¤£¨£ªº«Ä¤l¡A¤E·³ Kholvailla Alainne,¤w¸g³Qµo²{¡C
Her violated, throat-cut body, preserved in a decomposed state, frozen to its shallow grave. The descriptions of witnesses had proven themselves again. / ¦o¹H¥Ç,«|³ï- «d´îªº¨­Åé,¦b³Q¤À¸Ñªº¦{¤¤«OÅ@,­áµ²¨ì¥¦ªº¤ô²L¦a¤è¹Ó¥Þ¡C ¥ØÀ»ªÌªº´y­z¦A¤@¦¸¤w¸gÃÒ©ú¥L­Ì¦Û¤v¡C

Another one to add to the list. Another child, another family torn apart. They had captured more than 90% of the rapists, molesters, incestuous relatives, yet they could not catch the one who prompted it all. / ¥t¥~¥[¨ì¥Ø¿ý¡C ¥t¤@­Ó«Ä¤l¡A³Q¤À§O¦a¼¹¶}ªº¥t¤@­Ó®a®x¡C ¥L­Ì¤w¸g®·Àò¶W¹L 90% ªº±j«ÁªÌ¡A molesters ¡Aªñ¿Ë¬Û«Áªº¿Ë±­, µM¦Ó¥L­ÌµLªk®·®»¥þ³¡«P¨Ï¤F¥¦ªº¨º¤@­Ó¡C

Tears began to run down the smooth cheeks of Zoltar. It was his fault. / ²\ºw¶}©l¶]¤U¨Ó Zoltar ªº¥­·ÆÀU¡C ¥¦¬O¥Lªº¹L¥¢¡C
They had countless leads, countless descriptions, they had correlated them all into every system they could create. He worked on them in every spare moment he could, yet still, STILL they could not catch him. / ¥L­Ì¦³¤F¼Æ¤£ºÉªº½u¯Á¡A¼Æ¤£ºÉªº´y­z, ¥L­Ì¦³¦³¬Û¤¬Ãö«Yªº¥L­Ì©Ò¦³ªº¶i¤J¥L­Ì¥i¥H³Ð³yªº¨C­Ó¨t²Î¤§¤º¡C ¥L¦b¨C¦h¾lªº¤ù¨è³B²z¥L­Ì¥L¥i¥H, µM¦ÓÀR¤îªº, ¼@·Ó¥L­ÌµLªk®·®»¥L¡C

But when they did... / ¦ý¬O·í¥L­Ì°µªº®É­Ô¡C¡C¡C

Oh, he would make him pay.. Sixteen lives slain, twenty seven children, boys and girls, violated. And him. Oh he would pay, when he caught him.. The firelight glinted off the tiny blades imbedded in the pink fingernails. He'd remember, oh yes, he'd remember the face, the face at the moment the visiting jumpsuit was ripped away... "Why you're not a girl at all -- you're a boy!" / ®@,¥L±N·|¨Ï¥L¤ä¥I¡C¡C ¤Q¤»­Ó³Q±þªº¥Í©R¡A¤G¤Q¤C­Ó«Ä¤l¡A¨k«Ä©M¤k«Ä,¹H¥Ç¡C ¦Ó¥B¥L¡C ®@·í¥L®·®»¤F¥Lªº®É­Ô¥L±N·|¤ä¥I¡C¡C ¤õ¥ú¨«¶}°{Ä£¦b¯»¬õªº¤â«ü¥Ò¤¤³Q¨Ï´¡¤Jªº·¥¤p¤M¾W¡C ¥L±N·|°O±o, ªí¥ÜÅå³Y¬Oªº,¥L±N·|°O±oÁy, Áy¦¹¨è«ô³X jumpsuit ³Q¼¹¶}Â÷¶}¡C¡C¡C " §A¬°¤°»ò¤@ÂI¤]¤£¤@­Ó¤k«Ä -- §A¬O¨k«Ä!"

...NO!!! / ¡C¡C¡C¤£!!!

He slumped over the desk, his shoulders heaving, quaking with the effort to control his sobs. This would not do. He was no help to anyone like this. The implants, they had to be replaced. Something was wrong with them anyways, they shouldn't have emptied that quickly.. / ¥L¦b®Ñ®à¡A¥LªºªÓ¥Î¤OÁ|°_¤§¤W²rµM±¼¸¨, ¥H§V¤O¦a¾_±±¨î¥Lªº°ãª_¡C ³o±N¤£°µ¡C ¥L¤£¬O¹ï¥ô¦ó¤HÀ°¦£³ßÅw³o¡C ´Ó¤J¾¹,¥L­Ì¥²¶·³Q´À´«¡C ¬Y¨ÆµL½×¦p¦ó¹ï¥L­Ì·P¨ì¿ù»~,¥L­ÌÀ³¸Ó¤£­n«Ü§Ö¦a²MªÅ¨ºªº¡C¡C

Oh but what was the use? If it wasn't the implants it was the patch. / ®@¦ý¬O¨Ï¥Î¬O¤°»ò? ¦pªG¥¦¤£¬O´Ó¤J¾¹ , ¥¦¬O¸H®h¡C
If it wasn't the patch it was the pills. If it wasn't them, it was something else. An endless cycle, something always going wrong; he had rarely experienced true health. / ¦pªG¥¦¤£¬O¸H®h , ¥¦¬OÃĤY¡C ¦pªG¥¦¤£¬O¥L­Ì, ¥¦¬O§OªºªF¦è¡C ¤@­Ó¥ÃµL¤î¹Òªº©P´Á, ¬Y¨ÆÁ`¬O¥X¤ò¯f; ¥L«Ü¤Ö¦a¤w¸g¨S¦³¸g¾ú¯u¹êªº°·±d¡C

Oh, he knew his sister suffered too. She had inherited the same disorder, suffered many of the same symptoms. She was spared the monthly ordeal that had plagued them both throughout their teenaged years, though she was spared through drugs and he through surgery. Yet he still retained that malformed ovary, and its continued production, erratic and overmuch, conflicted with the hormones that made him a man. / ®@,¥L»{ÃÑ¥Lªº©n©f¤]¾D¨ü¡C ¦o¤w¸g¿ò¶Ç¬Û¦Pªº²V¶Ã,¾D¨ü¤j³¡¥÷¬Û¦PªºÄpª¬¡C ¦o³Q¼e®¤¤w¸g§é¿i¥L­Ì¨â­Óª½¨ì¥L­Ìªº«C¤Ö¦~¼Æ¦~ªº¨C¤ëÄY»Åªº¦ÒÅç,ÁöµM¦o¸g¹L¥~¬ì¤â³N³Q¼e®¤¹LÃÄ©M¥L¡C µM¦Ó¥L¤´µM«O¦³¤F¨º­ÓÃø¬Ýªº§Z±_ , ©M¥¦ªºÄ~Äò¥Í²£¡A¥j©Çªº¤H©M¹L«×,¥H¨Ï¥L¦¨¬°¤@­Ó¨k¤Hªº²üº¸»Xª§°õ¡C
Suppress one, supplement the other, treat the symptoms as best you can; that was the idea, anyways. But when the drug of suppression is in a metered dose, what happens when the hormone its suppressing isn't being made? Then you get fire in your veins, pounding in your head and an urge to do violence -- to others, to yourself, it doesn't matter. / ÂíÀ£¤@,¸É¥R¥t¤@­Ó, ³Ì¦n¦aµøÄpª¬¬°§A¯à; ¨º¬O·Qªk,µL½×¦p¦ó¡C ¦ý¬O·í§íÀ£ªºÃĬO¦b¤@¥÷³Q¥H­p¶q¾¹­p¶qªº¾¯¶q¤¤ªº®É­Ô, µo¥Íªº·í²üº¸»X¥¦ÂíÀ£¨º¨S¦³¦b³Q°µ? µM«á§A±o¨ì§AªºÀR¯ß¤õ, §AªºÀY©M©IÆ~ªººV°µ¼É¤O -- ¹ï¨ä¥¦¡A¹ï§A¦Û¤v¡A¥¦¤£¦³­«¤jÃö«Y¡C

He sat on the edge of the bed and stared. Presently, he became aware of what he was seeing. / ¥L§¤¦b§ÉªºÃä½t¤W¦Ó¥Bª`µø¡C ¥Ø«e¡A¥Lª¾¹D¥L¥¿¦b¨£¨ìªº¡C

Then... / ·í®É¡C¡C¡C

His voice made no sound yet his heart screamed. Mala, Mother Aranya, / ¥LªºÁn­µ¤´µM¨S»s³yÁn­µ¥Lªº¤ß¦y¥s¡C Mala ¡A Aranya ¥À¿Ë,
Aishe -- anyone -- make it stop! / Aishe-- ¥ô¦ó¤H -- ¨Ï¥¦°±¤î!

But it didn't stop. / ¦ý¬O¥¦¨S¦³°±¤î¡C

His heart kept on screaming. / ¥Lªº¤ßÄ~Äò¦y¥s¡C

Now... / ²{¦b¡C¡C¡C

The candlelight flickered over the gun, turning its cold surface to burnished gold. He stared at it, watched the melting flames, the way the metal lapped up the light. / Àë¤õ¦bºj¤§¤W°{°Ê,Â०ªº´H§N¤É¦Ü¤ô­±¿i¶Àª÷¡C ¥L¨nµÛ¥¦¬Ý,¬Ý¤Fº²¤Æªº¤õµK, ¤è¦¡ª÷Äݦb¥ú¤W­±­«Å|¡C

--you're tired-- the gun whispered / -- §A«Ü¯h²Ö-- ºj¦Õ»y

-no...- he thought, -its the drugs..- / -¸¹½X¡C¡C- ¥L·Q,-¥¦ªºÃÄ¡C¡C-

--the drugs are merely an excuse... you need me.. -- / --ÃÄ¥u¬OÂǤf¡C¡C¡C §A»Ý­n§Ú¡C¡C --

-too many need me- he replied to the gun / - ¤Ó³\¦h»Ý­n§Ú-¥LµªÂкj

--and isn't that the problem? how many have you failed?-- / -- ©M¨º­Ó°ÝÃD¤£¬O? §A¤w¸g¥¢±Ñ¦h¤Ö?--

-no one.. too many.. so many lives..- / - ¨S¦³¤H¡C¡C ¤Ó³\¦h¡C¡C ³o»ò¦h¥Í©R¡C¡C-

--on earth as it is in spectra-- / --¦b¦a²y¤W·í°µ¥¦¬O¦bÀWÃФ¤--

-yes..- / -¬Oªº¡C¡C-

--touch me... i need you...-- / --¸I§Ú¡C¡C¡C i »Ý­n§A¡C¡C¡C--

The gun beckoned with its firelight eyes. The firelight danced in sad eyes of luminous green, spilling over at the beauty of it all. / ºj¥H¥¦ªº¤õ¥ú²´·ú©Û¤â¡C ¤õ¥ú¦bµo¥úºñ¦âªº¼~·T²´·ú¤¤¸õ»R,¦b¥¦ªº¬ü¤Hµ²§ô·¸¥X¥þ³¡¡C

Cool on his fingertips, the gun. Finely made. The gun whispered of its love for him, its voice as fleeting as the flame. / ¦b¥Lªº«ü¦y¤W§N«o,ºj¡C ºë¬ü¦a»s³y¡C ºj¬°¥L¥¦ªº·R¦Õ»y, ¥¦ªºÁn­µ·í°µ¯e¹£¦p¤õµK¡C

--it'll just continue.. it'll never end..-- / --¥¦±N¶È¶ÈÄ~Äò¡C¡C ¥¦±NµLªkµ²§ô¡C¡C--

-cold.. its so cold.. the world is dying..- / -´H§N¡C¡C ¥¦ªº¦p¦¹´H§N¡C¡C ¥@¬É¦º¤`¡C¡C-

--and you are the world-- / --©M§A¬O¥@¬É--

-the light or the darkness?- / -¥ú©Î¶Â·t?-

--can you bear the light?-- / --§A¯à§Ô¨ü¥ú¶Ü?--

-i can't bear anything anymore...- / -i ¯à¤£¦A§Ô¨ü¥ô¦ó¨Æ¡C¡C¡C-

--talk to me..-- / --¹ï§Úªº½Í¸Ü¡C¡C--

-no..- / -¸¹½X¡C-

-i want to live.....i want to die......- / -i ·Q­n©~¦í.....i ·Q­n¦º......-

The gun turned in his hand, turned to look up at him. The smooth, full lips parted, revealing the pink, lithe tongue, so quick with words. / ¦b¥Lªº¤â¤¤³QÂ઺ºj, ·Ç³Æ¬Ý¦b¥L¤W­±¡C ¥­·Æ¤S§¹¾ãªº®B¤À¶},Åã¥Ü¯»¬õ¤S¬X³nªº¦Þ, ¦p¦¹§Ö¥Ñ©ó¦r¡C

The gun spoke. / ºj»¡¡C

Then... / ·í®É¡C¡C¡C

There had been no rescuers, no one to stop the pain. / ¤w¸g¨S¦³±Ï§UªÌ, ¨S¦³¤H°±¤îµh­W¡C

That was then... this is / ¨º¬OµM«á¡C¡C¡C ³o¬O

Now... / ²{¦b¡C¡C¡C

The blast knocked him to the floor, gasping for breath, the gun skittering away. Searing heat brought beads of sweat to his forehead -- a good portion of the wall had been melted to slag. The candle, knocked over, still shone. Its light fell on the stricken face of the / ¯e­·ºVÀ»¤F¥L¨ì¦aªO,¬°©I§l³Ý®ð,­¸±°¦Ó¹LÂ÷¶}ªººj¡C ¯NµJ¼ö±a¦½ªº¯]¤l¥h¥Lªº«eÃB -- Àð¾Àªº¦n³¡¤À¤w¸g³Q¿Ä¤Æ¨ÏÅܦ¨º²´í¡C ÄúÀë,µ²§ôºVÀ»,¤´µM·ÓÄ£¡C ¥¦ªº¿O¸¨¦b¨ü¥´À»Áy¨º
Dove, the remains of a yo-yo bomb still strapped to her finger. / ÂF¤l, ¨º¤´µM³Q¸i¸j¨ì¦oªº¤â«ü¤@­Ó·È·È²y¬µ¼u«O«ù¡C

He looked up at her, saw her staring back. Recognition, comprehension registered across her features as she stared at the body on the floor. / ¥L¬Ý¦b¦o¤W­±,¨£¨ì¦o¦V«á¦aª`µø¡C ©Ó»{,·í¦o¨nµÛ¦b¦aªO¤Wªº¨­Åé¬Ýªº®É­Ô¡A²z¸Ñµn°O¹L¦oªº¯S¼x¡C

The body was Zoltar's. The face was Zarabeth's. / ¨­Åé¬O Zoltar's ªº¡C Áy¬O Zarabeth's ªº¡C

* * * / ***

He sat near the bed, his feet tucked up beneath him. He would not look at her. She did not stare accusingly at him, did not ask why. / ¥L¦b§Éªºªþªñ§¤,¥Lªº¸}¦b¥L¤§¤U±²°_¡C ¥L±N¤£¬Ý¦o¡C ¦o¨S¦³³dÃø¦a¨nµÛ¥L¬Ý, ¨S¦³°Ý¬°¤°»ò¡C
Silently she read the article still on the screen. Silently she sat beside him. He sat with his hands clasping his elbows, around his knees. The firelight flickered on his fingernails. / ÀqÀq¦a¦o¦b¿Ã¹õ¤W¤´µM¬Ý¤å³¹¡C ÀqÀq¦a¦o¦b¥L®ÇÃ䧤¡C ¦b¥Lªº½¥©P³ò¥L¥H¥Lªº¦©ºò¥Lªº¤â¨y¤â§¤¡C ¤õ¥ú¦b¥Lªº¤â«ü¥Ò¤W°{°Ê¡C

Mildly curious, she stroked one, seeking the source of the glitter. / ¬X©M¦n©_,¦o¦E§À¼Õ¤F¤@,´M¨DÀéÄꪺ¨Ó·½¡C
The blades were tiny, imbedded between the natural nail and a tough glaze. They covered barely a quarter inch of nail, protruded not a sixteenth of an inch. They were effective slicing, slashing weapons. / ¤M¾W¬O·¥¤pªº,¦b¦ÛµM°v¤l©M¤@ºØ±jµwªº¹V¤§¶¡¨Ï´¡¤J¡C ¥L­Ì´X¥G²[»\¤@¥|¤À¤§¤@¦Tªº°v¤l,¥Y¥X¤£¤Q¤»¤À¤§¤@ªº¦T¡C ¥L­Ì¬O¦³®Äªº¤Á¦¨Á¡¤ù¡A´î°£ªZ¾¹¡C
She wondered why he wore them. Then something else caught her eye. / ¦oÃhºÃ¥L¬°¤°»ò¬ïµÛ¤F¥L­Ì¡C µM«á§OªºªF¦è¤Þ°_¦oªºª`·N¡C

He snatched his hand back. She had gently pulled one to look at, tracing her fingers over the white ropy scars. She tried again and he relented. Her fingers probed gently, feeling the lie of the shunt buried deep within the carpal structure of the left hand, where the scar tissue had grown in too heavily to allow for circulation. Too many times, she thought. She saw another scar, and tipped his chin to look. He cringed, pulling her hand away, tears squeezing out from his liquid eyes. Not the same, then.. / ¥L§â¥Lªº¤â¹Ü¨ú¦^¨Ó¡C ¦o¦³³vº¥¦a©Ô¤F¤@¬Ý,°lÂܦb¥Õ¦âªº¦¨ÂHµ·ªº¬Í²ª¤Wªº¦o¤â«ü¡C ¦o¦A¤@¦¸¹Á¸Õ¡A¦Ó¥B¥LÅܼe«p¡C ¦oªº¤â«ü³vº¥¦a±´¬d, ·Pı¤À¸ôªºÁÀ¨¥®I¸®¤F¥ª¤âªºµÃ°©µ²ºc¸Ì­±ªº²`³B, ¬Í²ªÁ¡ªº¯½Â´«~¤w¸g¥Íªø¦b¤Ó«Ü­«¦a¦Ò¼{¨ì´`Àô¡C ¤Ó³\¦h¦¸¡A¦o·Q¡C ¦o¨£¨ì¤F¥t¤@¹D¬Í²ª, ¦Ó¥B´£¥Ü¤F¥Lªº¤U¤Ú¬Ý¡C ¥L¬ÈÁY, ©Ô¦oªº¤â¤§»·,±q¥Lªº²GÅé²´·úÀ½À£¥Xªº²\ºw¡C ¤£¬O¤@¼Ëªº,µM«á¡C¡C

He looked back at her, embarassed, ashamed. She looked at him, but her eyes did not show sympathy, or pity, or any of the expressions he was used to seeing. Instead, she showed understanding. / ¥L¦^¬Ý¦o¡A embarassed,ºF·\ªº¡C ¦o¬Ý¥L¡A¦ý¬O¦oªº²´·ú¨S¦³Åã¥Ü¦P±¡ , ©Î¿ò¾Ñ , ©Î¥L²ßºD©ó¨£¨ìªº¥ô¦óªí¹F¡C ¬Û¤Ïªº¡A¦oÅã¥Ü¤F²z¸Ñ¡C

Her hands moved, lifting off the helmet, pulling off the wings. She pulled down the neck of her jersey to reveal a thick slug of scar tissue over her heart. Stab wound. She shrugged, smiling shyly. / ¦oªº¤â²¾°Ê,¦b¿û²¯¥~¤É°ª¡A¶¶§Q§¹¦¨¯Í»H¡C ¦o¯}Ãa¦oªº¤ò´¹B°Ê­mªº²ä¤lÅã¥Ü¦b¦oªº¤ß¤W¤@­Ó¬Í²ªÁ¡ªº¯½Â´«~ªº«pªä¶ô¡C ¨ë¨ü¶Ë¡C ¦oÁqªÓ,®`²Û¦a·L¯º¡C

"I tried sleeping pills, too", she admitted, looking at the floor, / " §Ú¤]¹Á¸Õ¤FºÎµÛªºÃĤY ",¦o©Ó»{,¬Ý¦aªO,
"They didn't work, as you see" / " ¥L­Ì¨S¦³¤u§@, ¦]¬°§A¨£¨ì "

He stared at his feet, his fingers twisting and twisting a lock of tangled hair. She reached out and began to stroke it. / ¥L¨nµÛ¥Lªº¸}¬Ý,¥Lªº§áÂà©M§áÂà¤@­Ó¨ÏÄñµ²ªºÀY¾vÂê¤â«ü¡C ¦o¨ì¹F¥X¦Ó¥B¶}©l¦E§À¼Õ¥¦¡C

Then... / ·í®É¡C¡C¡C

He was tied, gagged, a collar and leash about his neck. He sat naked in a heap of garbage thrown at him by his tormentors. The first one had brought his friends over, and they had had great enjoyment out of the boy who looked like a girl. He bled from numerous wounds, blood caked on his buttocks and thighs from the repeated violations, blood oozing from the small cuts on his penis, where they had tested to see if it was real. They laughed at him, kicked him, beat him, raped him, and all the while, they stroked his lovely hair.. / ¥L³Qô,¶ëª«©ó,¤f¤¤Ãö©ó¥Lªº²ä¤l¤@±ø¦ç»â©M®êª¯ÀV¤§¥Ö±a¡C ¥L§¤µÛ¨ª»rªº¦b¥L³Q¥Lªº¨Ï­Wµh¤§¤H¥áªº©U§£°ï¤¤¡C ²Ä¤@¤@¤w¸gµ²§ô±a¥LªºªB¤Í¡A¦Ó¥B¥L­Ì¤w¸g±q¬Ý°_¨Ó¹³¤@­Ó¤k«Ä¤@¼Ëªº¨k«Ä¦³´Îªº¨É¼Ö¡C ¥L±q«Ü¦hªº³Ð¶Ë¬y¦å,¦å¦b¨Ó¦Û­«½Æªº¹H¤Ï¡A±q¦b¥Lªº¶§ª«¤Wªº¤p«d´îº¯¥Xªº¦å¥LÁv³¡©M¤j»L¤W³J¿|, ¦pªG¥¦¬O¯u¥¿ªº¡A¥L­Ì¤w¸g´ú¸Õ¨£¨ì­þ¸Ì¡C ¥L­Ì¯º¥L,½ð¤F¥L,Ãø­Ë¥L,±°¹Ü¤F¥L, ©M©Ò¦³ªº¤@·|¨à,¥L­Ì¦E§À¼Õ¤F¥Lªº¥i·RÀY¾v¡C¡C

Now... / ²{¦b¡C¡C¡C

He was strangely distant, withdrawn, she thought, still stroking his hair in what she thought was a comforting way. It's almost as if he's not even there.. It's like me whenever someone.. / ¥L¬O©_§®»·¡MºM¦^ªº,¦o·Q,¤´µM¦E§À¼Õ¦o·Qªº¥LÀY¾v¬O¤@­Ó¥O¤HªY¼¢ªº¤èªk¡C ¥¦´X¥G¦n¹³¥L¤£¬Æ¦Ü¦b¨º¸Ì¡C¡C ¥¦¹³§ÚµL½×¦ó®É¬Y¤H¡C¡C

Oh my god.. / ®@§Úªº¯«¡C¡C

She stared at her hand in horror, realising what she must have done. / ¦o¨nµÛÅåÀbªº¦o¤â¬Ý,ı®©¦o¤@©w´¿¸g°µ¹Lªº¡C

"I'm so sorry.. I didn't even think.. I'm sorry, please forgive me.." / "§Ú¬O¦p¦¹Ãø¹L¡C¡C §Ú¬Æ¦Ü¨S¦³·Q¡C¡C ¹ï¤£°_,½Ð­ì½Ì§Ú¡C¡C"
She got down on the floor in front of him, looking up into the vacant eyes, "Please come back. I promise I won't do it again. I promise I wont hurt you" / ¦o¦b¦aªO¤W¦b¥L¤§«e±o¨ì¤U¨Ó, ¬Ý¦b¶i¤JªÅªº²´·ú¤§¤º¤W­±,"½Ð¦^¨Ó¡C §ÚµªÀ³§Ú±N¤£¦A°µ¥¦¡C §ÚµªÀ³§Ú³Q¶Ë®`§Aªº²ßºD"

She put her arms around him, "Please come back to me" / ¦o¦b¥L©P³ò©ñ¦oªº¤âÁu," ½Ð¦^¨ì§Ú "

Slowly, the life returned to the emerald eyes, filling them even as the tears welled up and overflowed. Then with a great, cracking sob, the dam broke... / ºCºC¦a,¥Í¬¡¦^¨ì»B»Aªº²´·ú, ¬Æ¦Ü¶ñ¥R¥L­Ì·í²\ºw´é¥X¤§®É¦b¦Ó¥B¤W­±¥ÆÀÝ¡C µM«á¥H¤@­Ó¤j®v¡Aµõ²ªµo¥X¶ã«|Án­µ,¤ôÅòÂ_±¼¡C¡C¡C

Then... / ·í®É¡C¡C¡C

For three days they tortured him, using him as their sex toy and personal pet. Then, finally, they had grown weary of his novelty. / ¥L­Ì«þ°Ý¤F¥L¤T¤Ñ,¥H¥L§@¬°¥L­Ìªº©Ê§Oª±¨ã©M­Ó¤HªºÃdª«¡C µM«á¡A³Ì«á¡A¥L­Ì¤w¸g¥Lªº·s©_Åܯh­Â¡C

"Get up and put your clothes on. We're going out", the man told him. / " °_§É¦Ó¥B©ñ§Aªº¦çªA¦b¤§¤W¡C §Ú­Ì¥¿¦b¥X¥h ",¨k¤H§i¶D¤F¥L¡C
He obeyed, his body aching from the repeated abuses. The man punched him around some more, when the pain of dressing re-opened wounds and slowed his pace. Then he was led outside and into a vehicle. / ¥LªA±q, ¥Lªº¨­Åé´÷±æ±q­«½Æªº­h«Ý¡C ·í¬ï¦çªºµh­W¦A¥´¶}³Ð¶Ë¦Ó¥B´îºC¤F¥Lªº³t«×®É­Ô¨k¤H¦b¦A¦h¤@¨Çªº©P³ò¥H®±­«À»¥L¡C µM«á¥L¦b©M¤§¥~¶i¤J¤@½ø¨®½ø¤§¤º³Q¤Þ¾É¡C

It was dark, and they drove for many miles. The boy had lost all concept of time, kept his eyes, his mind, fixed on the stars and moons overhead. Finally, the man pulled off the road, stopped the car, and told him to get out. / ¥¦«Ü¶Â·t¡A¦Ó¥B¥L­Ì¬°³\¦h­ù¶}¨®¡C ¨k«Ä¤w¸g¥¢¥h©Ò¦³®É¶¡ªºÆ[©À,«O«ù¤F¥Lªº²´·ú¡A¥Lªº¤ß,¦b¬P©M½Ã¬P¤W­×²zÃB¥~¶}¾P¡C ³Ì«á¡A¨k¤H¶¶§Q§¹¦¨¹D¸ô,°±¤î¤F¨T¨®, ¦Ó¥B§i¶D¤F¥L°k¶]¡C

The blow was meant to knock him out, but it only stunned him. He felt the knife slice into his throat, felt the blood spurt out onto the ground. The moonlight shone on the scarlet ribbon pulsing out down his chest. The knife descended again and again, puncturing yet more holes in his body. He was picked up, and roughly thrown into the ditch. He listened as the car started and the man drove away. / ¥´À»¥²¶·ºVÀ»¥X¥L¡A¦ý¬O¥¦¥u¨Ï·w­Ë¤F¥L¡C ¥L·Pı¤MÁ¡ªº¤Á¤ù¶i¥Lªº«|³ï¤§¤º,¦b¦a­±¤§¤W¦b¥~·Pı¦å½Ä¨ë¡C ¤ë¥ú¦b¸õ°Ê¥X¤U¨Ó¥Lªº¯ÝªÎ´´¦âªº½v±a¤W·ÓÄ£¡C ¤M¤@¦¸¤S¤@¦¸­°, ¯}Ãa¤´µM¥Lªº¨­Åé§ó¦hªº¬}¡C ¥L³Q³vº¥«ì´_ , ¦Ó¥B·§²¤¦a¥á¤J·¾´ë¡C ·í¨T¨®¶}©lªº®É­Ô¡A¥LÅ¥¡A¦Ó¥B¨k¤HÅX»°[¶}¨«¤F] ¡C

He stared up at the sky, the pain in his throat a dull throb. His head was growing lighter, his vision blurring as his life ebbed away into the ground. / ¥Lª`µø¦b¤ÑªÅ¤W­±,¥Lªº«|³ï¿ð¶wªº±ª°Êµh­W¡C ¥LªºÀY¥¿¦b¼W¥[¤ñ¸û»´, ¥Lªºµø³¥¼Ò½k·í°µ¥Lªº¥Í¬¡ ebbed ¤§»·¶i¤J¦a­±¤§¤º¡C

At first he thought the searingly bright light was an illusion, part of the dying. The needle of light touched his throat, burning it, cauterizing the gaping wound, then moved on to touch the other wounds, healing him, rendering him whole. / °_¥ý¥L·Q searingly ©ú«Gªº¥ú¬O¤@­Ó¤Û¼v¡A««¦ºªÌªº³¡¥÷¡C ³Q±µÄ²¥Lªº«|³ï,¿U¿N¥¦,¿N¨`Á_»Ø³Ð¶Ëªº¥ú°w, µM«áÂಾ¦Ü¸I¨ì¨ä¥L³Ð¶Ë,ªv¡¥L, ½Ķ¥L¥þ³¡¡C

He recognised the face of the Luminous One. / ¥L¿ë»{¥X¤Fµo¥úªºÁy¤@¡C

Now... / ²{¦b¡C¡C¡C

"And later I found out," he choked, "That it had arranged the whole thing in the first place.." / "¦Ó¥Bµy«á§Úµo²{,"¥L²¿®§ ",¥¦¤w¸g­º¥ý¦w±Æ¾ã­Óªº¨Æª«¡C¡C"

He was hysterical, unable to control the wracking sobs that shattered his speech, made breathing difficult. He choked on mucous, coughed, then wailed again. That terrible keening wail of a human soul in unbearable agony. / ¥L¬O·²´µ©³¨½ªº, ¤£¯à±±¨î¥´¸H¤F¥LªººtÁ¿·´Ãa°ãª_,¨Ï©I§l§xÃø¡C ¥L²¿®§¦bÂH²Gªº¤§¤W,«y¹Â,µM«á¦A¤@¦¸´d¹Ä¡C µLªk§Ô¨üªº·¥¤jµh­Wªº¤@­Ó¤HÃþªºÆF»î¨º¥i©Èªº¾W§Q´d¹Ä¡C

The tears streamed down Princess' face. How similar their lives had been, how different the reasons for it. His terrible childhood, his hellish rape, all on the orders of the Great Spirit he served. He had implemented his law, hunted down the friends, but the origional rapists remained at large. / ²\ºw¬y¥X¤U¨Ó Princess' Áy¡C ¥L­Ìªº¥Í©R¤w¬O¦h»òªº¬Û¦ü, ¦p¦ó¤£¦Pªº¥¦²z¥Ñ¡C ¥Lªº¥i©È«Äµ£®É´Á¡A¥Lªº¦aº»·m¹Ü,¥þ³¡¦b´Îªººë¯«¦¸§Ç¤W¥LªA¨Í¡C ¥L¤w¸g±À¦æ¥Lªºªk«ß,°l®·ªB¤Í¡A¦ý¬O origional ±j«ÁªÌ¤´³p»»ªk¥~¡C

One preyed on children. The other preyed on planets. / ¤@¦b«Ä¤l¨­¤W®·­¹¡C ¥t¤@­Ó¦b¦æ¬P¤W®·­¹¡C

His heart continued to pour out. The drugs, the underground, the social reforms, the war, the toadies, the insensitivities of women.. / ¥Lªº¤ßÄ~Äò­Ë¡C ÃÄ¡A¦a¤U¡AªÀ·|ªº§ï­²¡A¾Ôª§¡A½Ô´AªÌ,¤k¤Hªº insensitivities¡C¡C

Most people behave as though the world were on their shoulders. / ¦n¹³¥@¬É¦b¥L­ÌªºªÓ¤W¡A¤j¦h¼Æªº¤H¦æ¬°ªí²{¡C
Princess found herself marvelling that here, beside her, was one who truly did bear such a weight. Everybody needs you.. / ¤½¥Dµo²{¦o¦Û¤v marvelling ³o¸Ì,¦b¦o®ÇÃä, ¬O¤H¯u¹ê¦a°µ¤Fºµ¤@­Ó¦p¦¹­«¶q¡C ¨C­Ó¤H³£»Ý­n§A¡C¡C

"But Zoltar.. who do you need?" / "°£¤F Zoltar ¤§¥~¡C¡C §A»Ý­n½Ö?"

She knew the answer. She knew it wasn't enough. / ¦oª¾¹Dµª®×¡C ¦oª¾¹D¥¦¤£¬O¥R¨¬¡C

They were silent for a long time, punctuated by the occasional sob or cough. He looked terrible. Hollywood was out of their minds, she though, looking at him, if they thought you could be attractive while crying. His face was swollen and pale, made piebald with blotches. / ¥L­Ì¨HÀq¦³«Üªøªº¤@¬q®É¶¡,³Q°¸µMªº°ãª_©Î«y¹Â¥[¼ÐÂI²Å¸¹¡C ¥L¬Ý°_¨Ó¥i©È¡C ¦nµÜ¶õºÆ¤F, ¦oÁöµM,¬Ý¥L,¦pªG¥L­Ì»{¬°¡A·í­úª_ªº®É­Ô¡A§A¥i¯à¬O§l¤Þ¤Hªº¡C ¥LªºÁy³Q¨ÏÅܤj¡A¦Ó¥B¬]Äæ,¥Ñ©ó¤j´³ÂI»s³y´³¯¾¡C
His lips were coated with a mucousy froth, which he scraped at with his teeth. His eyes were swollen and red, clashing with the green of the irises. His hair was matted and tangled, falling in his face, damp with sweat and tears. He wiped mucous from his nose and mouth onto his cape (Princess hadn't been able to find any Kleenex). His hand was white-knuckled, cramped from clinging to her hand. / ¥Lªº®B³Q§Gº¡¤@­Ó mucousy ªw, ¥L¨í±¼¦b¥Ñ©ó¥Lªº¤ú¾¦¡C ¥Lªº²´·ú¬O¿±µÈªº©M¬õ¦âªº,»P­i½¤ªººñ¦â½Ä¬ð¡C ¥LªºÀY¾v¬O¾Q»V¤lªº¦Ó¥B¨ÏÄñµ²,¥¿¹ïµÛ¸¨¤U,©M¦½©M²\ºwªº·Ã®ð¡C ¥LÀ¿ÂH²Gªº±q¥L»ó¤l©M¼L¦b¥LªºÌa¤§¤W.( ¤½¥D¤£¯à°÷µo²{¥ô¦óªº Kleenex) ¥Lªº¤â¬O¥Õ¦âªº-¥H«ü¸`¥´, ¯U«Pªº±qÂHªþ©ó¦oªº¤â¡C

He was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, and she chided herself for the thought. / ¥L¬O¦o´¿¸g¤w¸g¨£¨ìªº³Ì¬üÄRªº¨k¤H¡A¦Ó¥B¦o¬°·Qªk¥¸³d¤F¦o¦Û¤v¡C

There was a catering slot in the bedroom, stocked with drinks and nibbles and breakfast items, for when Zoltar didn't want to mask to go to the kitchen. She dialed for some ti, a soothing herbal blend to which he had introduced her, which she found pleasant. They drank together in silence for a time. He whispered something. She didn't hear. / ¦³ª×«Çªº¤@­Ó·Ç³Æ­¹ª«¦ì¸m,¥H¶¼®Æ©M«r¤@¤p¤fªº¶q©M¦­À\¶µ¥Ø¶i³f, ¬°·í Zoltar ¨S¦³·Q­n±»¹¢¥h¼p©Ðªº®É­Ô¡C ¦o¬°¤@¨Ç ti, ¤@ºØ¥L¤w¸g¤¶²Ð¦oªº¼¾¼¢¯óÃĪº²V©M¼·¦oµo²{°_¨Ó´r§Öªº¡C ¥L­Ì¼È®É¦b¨HÀq¤è­±¤@°_³Ü¡C ¥L¦Õ»y¤F¬Y¨Æ¡C ¦o¨S¦³Å¥¨ì¡C

"I said I'm sorry.. to put you through this.." he said again, staring at his cup. / "§Ú»¡¤F¹ï¤£°_¡C¡C ´À§A±µ³q³o¡C¡C"¥L¦A¤@¦¸»¡,¨nµÛ¥LªºªM¤l¬Ý¡C

She tipped his face up to look at her, "Don't be sorry. From what I've found out about you, you have every reason to crack now and then. Shit happens. So, it happened today." She shrugged and sipped again, looking at him, "I've been there, though not for the same reasons. I must admit, your reasons make a hell of a lot more sense than mine do" / ¦o¦V¤W´£¥Ü¥LªºÁy¬Ý¦o," ¤£¬OÃø¹Lªº¡C ±q§Ú¤w¸gÃö©ó§Aµo²{ªº¡A§A¦³¨C­Ó²z¥Ñ°¸º¸§Ë¸H¡C ÁTµo¥Í¡C ¦]¦¹,¥¦¤µ¤Ñµo¥Í¡C"¦o¦A¤@¦¸ÁqªÓ¦Ó¥B°ã¶¼,¬Ý¥L ",§Ú¤w¸g¦b¨º¸Ì,ÁöµM¤£¦]¬°¬Û¦Pªº²z¥Ñ¡C §Ú¤@©w­n©Ó»{, §Aªº²z¥Ñ§@¦aº»«Ü¦h§ó¦hªº·Pı¶W¹L§Úªº°µ"

"I don't know.. not being needed is as bad as being needed too much" / "§Ú¤£ª¾¹D¡C¡C ¤£³Q»Ý­n¹³³Q»Ý­n¤Ó¦h¨º¼ËÃa"

"It's as you say, though, more a matter of my not being appreciated. / "¦ý¬O,·í§A»¡ªº®É­Ô¡A¥¦¬O, §ó¦h¤@­Ó§Úªº¨Æ¥ó¤£³Q·P¿E¡C
I'll be the first to admit that's one of the reasons I'm not really eager to get back to Earth, even if it is dangerous here" / §Ú±N¬O²Ä¤@©Ó»{¨º¬O§Ú¤£¯uªº¼ö¤ß¦^¨ì¦a²yªº²z¥Ñ¤§¤@,§Y¨Ï¥¦¬O¦MÀIªº³o¸Ì"

He nodded, saying nothing. / ¥LÂIÀY,²@¤£»¡¡C

The guards in her complex had heard it through the one thing the / ¦oªº¦X¦¨ª«ªº¦u½Ã¤w¸g¸g¹L¤@¥ó¨Æª«Å¥¨ì¥¦¨º
Spectran military did efficiently -- gossip. They had told her about / Spectran ­x¶¤¦³®Ä²v¦a°µ -- »¡¶¢¸Ü¡C ¥L­Ì¤w¸g§i¶D¦oÃö©ó
Julia, about the toady woman. They all agreed that Zoltar's message to / ¯ü²ú¨È,Ãö©ó½Ô´AªÌ¤k¤Hªº¨Æ¡C ¥L­Ì¥þ³¡¦P·N Zoltar's ªº°T®§¨ì
Julia was terribly clever, though it had probably sailed right over her head. As to the toady, Adraig had advanced the probability that Zoltar would be angry at himself for allowing himself to be provoked so far. / ¯ü²ú¨È¥i©ÈÁo©ú,ÁöµM¥¦¤w¸g¥i¯à¥¿½T¦a¦b¦oªºÀY¤§¤W¯è¦æ¡C ¦]¬°Åý¥L¦Û¤v¦b¨ì²{¦b¬°¤î³Q¿E«ã¡AÃö©ó½Ô´AªÌ¡A Adraig ¤w¸g«e¶i Zoltar ±N·|¹ï¥L¦Û¤v¥Í®ðªº¥i¯à©Ê¡C

She had been told something else, too. / ¦o¤]¤w¸g³Q§i¶D§OªºªF¦è¡C

She had always been prevailed upon, never asked, never given the opportunity to choose. He had been hurt too often, and was a thousand times shy. She had thought all day about what she had been told, and about her feelings on it. When the call came through, she knew the moment was upon her. She would have to choose. / ¦o¤w¸g³QÁ`¬O±Ä¥Î¦b,¤§¤W±q¤£°Ý, ±q¤£µ¹¾÷·|¿ï¾Ü¡C ¥L¤w¸g¦b¸g±`³Q¶Ë®`, ¦Ó¥B¬O¤d¦¸®`²Û¡C ¦o¾ã¤Ñ¤w¸g·Q¦o¤w¸g³Q§i¶Dªº, ©MÃö©ó¦b¥¦¤Wªº¦o·Pıªº¨Æ¡C ·í©I¥s³Q´£¥X¹Lªº®É­Ô, ¦oª¾¹D¤ù¨è¬O¦b¦o¤§¤W¡C ¦o±N·|¥²¶·¿ï¾Ü¡C

She chose. / ¦o¿ï¾Ü¡C

"Do you need me?" Her voice sounded pitifully small, even to her. He looked at her quickly, then looked away, his eyes filling once again. / " §A»Ý­n§Ú¶Ü "? ¦oªºÁn­µÅ¥°_¨Ó·O´d¤p,¬Æ¦Ü¹ï¦o¡C ¥L«Ü§Ö¦a¬Ý¦o,µM«á¬ÝÂ÷¶},¦A¤@¦¸¶ñ¥Rªº¥L²´·ú¡C
He looked about the room, disconcerted. Finally he nodded. / ¥LÃö©ó©Ð¶¡¬Ý,¨Ï§x´b¡C ³Ì«á¥LÂIÀY¡C

"I..I did a lot of thinking.. this past few weeks. Ever since the trial. You've been..you.." She looked at her cup, unsure of how to say it. Deep breath, start again, "When I came here I was terrified of you. I thought you would hurt me too. But you've been so kind to me, no one's ever been kind like that to me, at least not a man.. well, there's Tiny, but.." try again "After the trial.. I never told anyone those things before.. About Chief Anderson, about the boys..But you were.. different." This wasn't working. She got up, pacing, as she tried to organise her thoughts. / "§Ú¡C¡C§Ú°µ¤F³\¦h«ä¦Ò¡C¡C ³o­Ó¹L¥h´X­Ó¬P´Á¡C ¦Û±q¸ÕÅç¡C §A¬O¡C¡C§A¡C¡C"¦o¬Ý¦oªºªM¤l, ¤£ªÖ©wªº¸Ó¦p¦ó»¡¥¦¡C ²`ªº©I§l,¦A¤@¦¸¶}©l,"·í§Ú¨Ó³o¸Ìªº®É­Ô , §Ú§A³QÅåÀ~¡C §Ú»{¬°§A¤]±N·|¶Ë®`§Ú¡C ¦ý¬O§A¬O¦p¦¹¿Ë¤Á¹ï§Ú, ¨S¦³¤H´¿¸g¬O¹³¥H­P©ó¹ï§ÚªºÃþ«¬, ¦Ü¤Ö¤£¤@­Ó¨k¤H¡C¡C ¦n§a¡A¨º¸Ì¬O·¥¤pªº,¦ý¬O¡C¡C¦b¸ÕÅ礧«á " ¦A¤@¦¸¸Õ " ¡C¡C §Ú¥H«e±q¤£§i¶D¤F¥ô¦ó¤H¨º¨Ç¨Æª«¡C¡C Ãö©ó¥D­nªº¦w¼w»¹,Ãö©ó¨k«Äªº¨Æ¡C¡C¦ý¬O§A¬O¡C¡C ¤£¦Pªº¡C"³o¤£¬O¤u§@¡C ¦o°_§É,¿â¨B,·í¦o¸ÕµÛ²Õ´¦oªº·Qªk¤§®É¡C

"I never.. found anyone I wanted to...to.. to make love to. I never found anyone who didn't scare me all the time, or make fun of me, or put me down somehow or.. I never found anyone who understood me.. or that. I wanted.." She broke off, certain this was sounding stupid. / " §Ú±q¤£¡C¡C µo²{§Ú·Q­nªº¥ô¦ó¤H¨ì¡C¡C¡C¨ì¡C¡C §@·R¨ì¡C §Ú±q¤£µo²{¥ô¦ó¤H½Ö©l²×¨S¦³ÅåÀ~§Ú, ©Î¼J§Ë§Ú, ©Î¤£ª¾¦ó¬G²Û°d§Ú©Î¡C¡C §Ú±q¤£µo²{¤F¸Ñ§Úªº¥ô¦ó¤H¡C¡C ©Î¨º¡C §Ú·Q­n¡C¡C"¦o¤¤Â_ , ½T©wªº³o¬OµoÁnªº·MÄø¡C

"You mean... me?" his voice was smaller than hers, if that were possible. She nodded, then realised her head was flopping on her neck, and stopped. She was nervous, she had never done this before. / "§A·N¿×¡C¡C¡C §Ú?"¶W¹L¦oªº¥LÁn­µ«Ü¤ñ¸û¤p, ¦pªG¨º¬O¥i¯àªº¡C ¦oÂIÀY,µM«á¤F¸Ñ¦oªºÀY¥¿¦b¦oªº²ä¤l¤W²Â­«ªººL, ¦Ó¥B°±¤î¡C ¦o¬Oºò±iªº,¦o¥H«e±q¥¼°µ³o¡C
Nervous, but not scared. / ºò±iªº, ¦ý¬O¤£ÅåÀ~¡C

"I.. had been going to suggest.. maybe.. leaving the mask on.. / "§Ú¡C¡C ¤w¸g¥h«Øij¡C¡C ¤]³\¡C¡C Â÷¶}°²­±¨ã¦b¤§¤W¡C¡C
because I.. well, its you I want..I didn't care what you look like..that wasn't the point.." God, she felt stupid. / ¦]¬°§Ú¡C¡C ¦n§a, ¥¦ªº§A§Ú·Q­n¡C¡C§Ú¨S¦³Ãö¤ß , §A¬Ý°_¨Ó¹³¤°»ò¡C¡C¨º¤£¬OÂI¡C¡C"¤W«Ò,¦oı±o·MÄø¡C

"And now?" / " ¦Ó¥B²{¦b"?

He sounded guarded, more distant. Yep, she'd flubbed it. Might as well go for gold. / ¥LÅ¥°_¨Ó³Q¨¾Å@µÛ,§ó»·ªº¡C Yep,¦o¦³°µ±o¤£¨Î¤F¥¦¡C ³Ì¦n¥h®³¶Àª÷¡C

"I like men with long hair," There, did that sound stupid enough? / " §Ú³ßÅw¦³ªøÀY¾vªº¨k¤H ", ¦b¨º¸Ì¡A¨ºÅ¥°_¨Ó°÷·MÄø¶Ü?
Probably.. Good God, what a way to ask for a date!! / ¥i¯à¡C¡C ¦n¤W«Ò,­n¨D¤@­Ó¤é´Á¤°»ò¤@­Ó¤èªk!!

He interrupted her self-recriminations, flinging his arms around her, crushing her to him, his tears wetting her black hair. That was okay -- she was crying into his, too. / ¥L¥´Â_¤F¦o¦Û¤vªº-¬Û³d,¦b¦o©P³ò§ë¥Lªº¤âÁu, ¥´¯}±o¤äÂ÷¯}¸Hªº¦o¹ï¥L,¥LªºÅÜÀã¦oªº¶Â¦âÀY¾vªº²\ºw¡C ¨º¬O¦n -- ¦o¤]¥¿¦b¶i¤J¥Lªº¤§¤º­úª_¡C

* * * / ***

Mala finished the injection, and pulled the blankets around her brother as the drug took effect. The medics had been called, and he was to go in in the morning to have his blood levels checked and his epidermal implants removed and examined. There had been debate over using the epidermals to begin with -- this would likely be all they'd need to take him off of them. She wondered what they'd put him on then, and discussed the possibilities with Princess. One of them was a nasal spray. The image it conjured was probably enough to make Zoltar reject the notion, the two women giggled. / ·íÃÄ«µ®Äªº®É­Ô¡A Mala §¹¦¨¤Fª`®g, ¦Ó¥B¦b¦oªº¥S§Ì©P³ò©Ô¤ò´à¡C ­`½¶ÄÝ´Óª«¤w¸g³Q¥s°µ¡A¦Ó¥B¥L­n¦b¦­±á¶i¤JÀˬd¥Lªº¦å¤ô·Ç¡A¦Ó¥B¥Lªºªí¥Ö©Êªº´Ó¤J¾¹²¾¨«¦Ó¥B½Õ¬d¡C ¦b¨Ï¥Îªí¥Ö©ÊªÌ¶}©l¤§¤W¤w¸g¦³ÅG½× -- ³o±N·|©Î³\¬O¥þ³¡¥L­Ì±N·|»Ý­n¨«¶}¥L­Ì±a¥L¡C ¦oÃhºÃ¥L­Ì±N·|©ñ¤F¥Lªº¦bµM«á¤§¤W, ¦Ó¥B»P¤½¥D°Q½×¥i¯à©Ê¡C ¥L­Ìªº¨ä¤¤¤§¤@¬O¤@­Ó»óªº¤ôªá¡C ¼v¹³¥¦¥l³ê¥i¯à¬O¥R¨¬¨Ï Zoltar ©Úµ´Æ[©À,¤G­Ó¤k¤H¦Y¦Y¦a¯º¡C

The injection took effect quickly, dropping Zoltar into a deep, almost comatose, sleep. They tucked him in, then sat at the desk in the candlelight, drinking ti. / ª`®g«Ü§Ö¦a«µ®Ä ,­°§C Zoltar ¶i¤@­Ó²`³B¤§¤º,´X¥G©üºÎ,ºÎ¯v¡C ¥L­Ì¥´¾îÁ·¤F¥L¦b,µM«á§¤¦bÀë¤õªº®Ñ®à«e,³Ü ti¡C

"Thank you for coming for him," Mala said, "I felt him going, but being half way home from Earth, what could I do? And you seem to understand him" / "¬°¥LÁÂÁ§A¨Ó ," Mala »¡,"§Ú·Pı¤F¥L¥h, ¦ý¬O¦b®a§@¬°¤@¥bªº¤èªk±q¦a²y¡A§Ú¥i¥H°µ¤°»ò? ¦Ó¥B§A¦ü¥G¤F¸Ñ¥L"

"Now more than ever after tonight, though I think you'll have quite a bit of explaining to do to the guards. I pulled a jailbreak" / " ²{¦b¶W¹L¦b¤µ±ß¤§«á´¿¸g¡AÁöµM§Ú»{¬°§A±N¦³¬Û·í¤@ÂI¸ÑÄÀ¹ï¦u½Ã°µ¡C §Ú©Ô¤F¤@­Ó¶Vº»"

Mala laughed, "Oh that must have been interesting. Yes, this will be very interesting to explain. Many of the guards don't know about / Mala ¯º," ®@­þ¤@¥H«e¤@©w¬O¦³½ìªº¡C ¬Oªº¡A³o±N¬O«D±`¦³½ì¸ÑÄÀ¡C ³\¦h¦u½Ã¤£ª¾¹D
Zoltar that way. Did Major Tendaky get to you in time?" / ¨º¼Ëªº Zoltar¡C ¥D­nªº Tendaky ¤Î®É¨ì¹F§A¶Ü?"

"Yes, although I didn't bother to let him land. I just flew up to him. / "¬Oªº¡AÁöµM§Ú¨S¦³·ÐÂZÅý¥Lµn³°¡C §Ú­è­è¹ï¥L¦V¤W­¸¡C
I don't think he's ever seen G-Force in action before. He was very surprised," Princess thought of the startled looks of the guards as she transmuted into her uniform.. But what could she do? She had needed the enhanced strength and speed she gained with transmute, and, in the end, her weaponry had proven invaluable. / §Ú¤£»{¬°¥L´¿¸g¤w¸g¨£¨ì G-¥H«eªº¦æ°Ê¤O¶q¡C ¥L«D±`·P¨ìÅå³Y," ³Q·Q¨ì¦u½Ãªº³Q¾_Å媺®e»ª¤½¥D·í¦o¶i¤J¦oªº¨îªA¤§¤ºÅܧΡC¡C ¦ý¬O¦o¥i¥H°µ¤°»ò? ¦o¤w¸g»Ý­n¥i´£°ªªº¤O¶q¨Ã¥B¥[³t¦o±o¨ì¥Ñ©ó¨Ï,ÅܧΩM, ¦bµ²§ô¤¤¡A¦oªºªZ¾¹¤w¸gÃÒ©úµL»ùªº¡C

"Yep, lot of explaining to do..." Mala sipped her ti reflectivly, "So you finally realised it, then?" / "Yep,¸ÑÄÀ°µªº¹B®ð¡C¡C¡C" Mala °ã¶¼¤F¦oªº ti reflectivly" ¡A¦]¦¹¡A§A³Ì«á¤F¸Ñ¥¦,µM«á?"

"Realised what?" / " ¤F¸Ñ¤°»ò"?

"That you're in love with my brother" / " §A»P§Úªº¥S§Ì¬ÛÅÊ"

Princess shrugged, embarassed, "And vice versa" / ³QÁqªÓªº¤½¥D¡A embarassed," ©M¤Ï¤§¥çµM"

Mala nodded, "Good, good.. Maybe it'll do both of you some good this time, hmm?" / Mala ÂIÀY,"¦nªº,¦n¡C¡C ¤]³\¥¦±N°µ§A¨â­Ó¤@¨Ç¦n³o¦¸,hmm?"

Princess said nothing, just stared at her cup. / ¤½¥D¤°»ò¤]¤£»¡,¶È¶È¨nµÛ¦oªºªM¤l¬Ý¡C

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offe..." / "¹ï¤£°_,§Ú¤£¬O¬G·N­n offe ¡C¡C¡C"

"No, Mala, you don't.. I was just thinking.. wondering why it is we have to suffer like this.." / "¤£,Mala, §A¤£¡C¡C §Ú½T¹ê¬O«ä¦Òªº¡C¡C ı±o©_©Ç¥¦¬°¤°»ò¬O§Ú­Ì¥²¶·¹³³o¤@¼Ë¾D¨ü¡C¡C"

"I've wondered that myself. I imagine its so that we can understand the common people, we being so priviledged as to be in positions of power.." / "§Ú¤w¸gÃhºÃ¨º§Ú¦Û¤v¡C §Ú·Q¹³¥¦ªº¥H«K§Ú­Ì¯à¤F¸Ñ´¶³qªº¤H, §Ú­Ì¦b¦]¦¹ priviledged ¦P¼Ë¦a¬O¦b¤O¶qªº¦ì¸m¤¤¡C¡C"

"I don't mean that.. I mean, why we have to suffer at all?" / "§Ú¤£·N¿×¨º¡C¡C §Úªº·N«ä¬O,§Ú­Ì¬°¤°»ò¥²¶·¨s³º¾D¨ü?"

They fell silent. / ¥L­Ì¶^¸¨¨HÀqªº¡C

"Mother Aranya said she thought it was because, then we know what pleasure is. What's the use in having something if you can't appreciate it?" / " Aranya ¥À¿Ë»¡¡A¦o»{¬°¡A¥¦¬O¦]¬°,µM«á§Ú­Ìª¾¹D§Ö¼Ö¬O¤°»ò¡C ¦pªG§A¤£¯à·P¿E¥¦¡A¦b¦³¬Y¨Æ¤è­±¨Ï¥Î¬O¤°»ò?"

Princess nodded, "And there's a difference between appreciating something and taking it for granted," she said, thinking of G-Force. / ¤½¥DÂIÀY," ¦Ó¥B¦b·P¿E¬Y¨Æ¦Ó¥Bµø¬°²z©Ò·íµM¤§¶¡¦³¤@ºØ¤£¦P",¦o»¡,G ªº«ä¦Ò-¤O¶q¡C

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind.." Mala started, "If you stayed with him tonight. He really shouldn't be left alone. I'll tell you what reactions to look for, if the injection starts to cause problems." / "§Ú½T©w¥L±N¤£¤¶·N¡C¡C" Mala ¶}©l ",¦pªG§A¤µ±ß¦b¥L®a³r¯d¡C ¥L¯uªº¤£À³¸Ó³Q¿W¦Û¦a¯d¤U¡C §Ú±N§i¶D§A , §ä´M¤°»ò¤ÏÀ³,¦pªGª`®g¶}©l¤Þ°_°ÝÃD¡C"

Princess nodded, then finished her ti. / ÂIÀYªº¤½¥D,µM«á§¹¦¨¤F¦oªº ti ¡C

The drug put him into a deep sleep, but not so deep that he wasn't aware of her when she crawled into the bed beside him. She kissed him, lightly. His lips were soft. She smiled into the darkness, then settled down. / Ãħâ¥L¸m©ó²`ªººÎ¯v, ¦ý¬O¤£¬O¦p¦¹ªº²`¥H­P©ó·í¦oª¦¶i¦b¥L®ÇÃ䪺§É®É­Ô¡A¥L¦o¤£¤F¸Ñ¡C ¦o§k¤F¥L,»´»´ªº¡C ¥Lªº®B«Ü³n¡C ¦o¶i¤J¶Â·t¤§¤º·L¯º,µM«á¦w©w¤U¨Ó¡C

He rolled over, curling up behind her, fitting himself to her like spoons, his arm wrapping around her. It was comfortable, and brought tears to her eyes. / ¥Lµ²§ô±², ±²¦±¦b¦o«á­±¤W­±, ¾A©yªº¥L¦Û¤v¨ì¦oªº¬Û¦ü°Í,¥Lªº¦b¦o©P³ò¥]³òk down on ªº¤âÁu¡C ¥¦«ÜµÎªA, ¦Ó¥B±a²\ºw¥h¦oªº²´·ú¡C

No nightmares disturbed her sleep. / ¨S¦³¹ÚÆLÂZ¶Ã¤F¦oªººÎ¯v¡C


by Ennien Ashbrook, ashbrook@spots.ab.ca / ¥Ñ Ennien Ashbrook,ashbrook@spots.ab.ca

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