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to the section of the torso from the waist to the mid-bosom. It was amazing how full and firm those half
breasts were, as far as they went.
"Or you could reassemble just that portion of me you wish to use," the head suggested.
He dumped the half bust in. "I prefer a genuine woman."
"A genuine woman would dump you in favor of a mortal man," the head retorted. "Here in the Afterlife,
you need a woman of the Afterlife."
There was that insidious logic of hers. What she said made more sense than he cared to accept. He had
to try to refute it. "I am not of the Afterlife; I am a mortal in temporary residence. I need a woman in
similar circumstance."
"That, too, can be provided," the head said. Mym finished dumping the rest of the body in the chest, but
hesitated to pick up the head itself. So he talked to it a moment more. "How can such a thing be
provided?"
"You could take up with a female Incarnation. The youngest aspect of Fate, called Clotho, is known to
be obliging."
Mym visualized the young, pretty Oriental, Clotho. The notion appealed. But then he remembered the
far more mature Lachesis, actually the same Incarnation in different form. Surely the minds of Fate were
the same, though the body changed. In that sense, she was no better than the demoness. A young and
innocent body with an experienced and cynical mind was not what a man really desired in a woman.
Also, Fate surely had associations of her own and would not necessarily be eager to take up with a man
like him.
"Then there's-but, of course, you wouldn't be interested in her," the head remarked.
An obvious ploy! But Mym still was not eager to pick up the talking head, so he accepted the ploy.
"Who?"
"She's a damsel, a princess, locked in a castle of frozen mist, unable to escape because no one cares
about her. But, of course, that's none of your business."
"Who is she?"
"Her name's Ligeia. But-"
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"Why was she put there?"
"It's her penalty for the mischief she did in life."
"Oh-she's another demoness."
"No. She's a damned soul."
"There's a distinction?"
The head laughed. "Certainly there is! Demons are creatures of Hell, who serve My Lord Satan
implicitly. They are constructs of ether with no living processes, exactly as you see in my flesh here.
Souls are the immortal essences of mortal beings; they share the consciousness, intellects, and feelings
of mortals, but no longer have mortal existence."
"Like the staff of the Castle of War," Mym agreed. "But since they aren't mortals, they are hopelessly
committed to the Afterlife and are no better for my purpose than are you demons."
"True. But Ligeia is a special case. She was improperly damned, and if she could only get a fair hearing,
she might be reclassified."
"Why can't she get a hearing?"
"A fair hearing. There are hearings aplenty in Hell, but they aren't fair. Every time she tries to present
her case, they laugh at her. She must be pretty upset by now. I think she'd really be appreciative if
someone with some power were to take up her case. But of course, if she got her fair hearing, and won
reprieve, she'd only go to Heaven, so that would be the end of that. There's no point in someone like you
getting involved with her."
Mym was sure by Lila's attitude that she wanted him to get involved with Ligeia, so he reacted
negatively. "I agree," he said, and caught up a trailing strand of hair and lifted the head by it and swung
it into the chest. "Now how do I ship this to Hell?"
"Simply address it for the destination," the head said. The words were somewhat muffled, because the
face was now down.
"To Hell with you!" Mym said.
The chest and its contents exploded. A dense cloud of smoke puffed out. When it dissipated, the chest
was gone.
The next call for the supervision of Mars was in Ireland. When Mym arrived with his grim entourage, he
surveyed the situation in his usual fashion and learned that the Hibernian Army, a revolutionary
organization, had used gene-splicing technology to develop a virus that affected only Protestants. They
were about to loose a plague that would either kill or greatly debilitate those it infected. The HA would
not even have to fight; they would simply take over after the plague had done its grisly work. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
