The Fecund's Melancholy Daughter - Brent Hayward [44]
Circling ambassadors renewed whipping his exposed skin.
You need to tell us what she told you. We saw her speak to you. Anu needs to know.
Those wire tails inflamed the skin on the back of his hands, on his face and neck. “She said nothing. So leave me alone. I mean, did she do this to me? Or did you? How did I get like this?” He wiped sap from his face with one hand, then looked beyond the ambassadors, toward the horizon, where it was already full day.
Idiot! She tried to defend herself. What do you think? Her suit gave off a jolt when you bludgeoned her.
A pause just then. Silence. The wire tails froze in mid-lash so that only the very low buzz of the ambassador’s wings could be heard. Pan Renik’s wounds during this interim stung with renewed throbs of this intense pain. Could he fight the tiny emissaries of Anu? Polymer, the padres said, was tough. And there were so many! If he did fight, would that assure his own death? Either way, he could not take a renewed round of lashes.
We would like to inform you, the ambassador said, Anu approaches the vicinity now. Prepare yourself. You’ll be interviewed, and recycled.
Refraining from defending himself had achieved nothing. He would be recycled.
Far below came faint shouts of the padres, rising from lower branches, as if they too had heard the proclamation. Had padres watched all the while? No doubt they had grown more and more concerned. Why were ambassadors of the sky, they must have wondered, talking to a citizen? To the exile, no less! And attacking him? What in the world had Pan Renik done? How had he messed up this time?
Managing to sit, then, smeared by his own sap, condemned to die, Pan Renik suddenly smiled; ironically, he had found an inadvertent way to get revenge on the settlement, to spoil the lives of the padres. He felt a surge of energy, and he used this energy to stand.
Take it easy, said the ambassador.
So, Pan Renik thought. He would be recycled. Life was over. Everything was over. If not killed by Anu, then killed by padres. All for stupid pieces of metal.
He reviewed, briefly, his impulse to bash the women’s head in and could see no good way the scenario might have ended. Perhaps he was an idiot. He had been called this many times, for sure. He looked at the corpse. All he had ever wanted was a chance to improve himself and to own shiny things. Were these the crimes of an idiot?
His eyes burned. His skin, stung over and over by lashes, seemed to scream. Snatching up his mace, Pan Renik tried desperately to formulate an additional step, one last step, or to see if one were possible, but the tails beat his face, his neck, his shoulders. “Leave me alone,” he shouted. “Leave me alone, you lousy galls!”
He saw more ambassadors approach from above, through the red haze of sap on his face. Dozens of them, coming to get access to him, to contribute their bit to his punishment. Exile, condemnation, existence: all unfair!
As a tail caught Pan Renik across the cheek and he felt hot fluids burst on his face, his strength and anger and energy suddenly exploded: he spun the mace without further thought, knowing full well he could never hit an ambassador, for they were invincible messengers of a higher power, of the mighty Anu, but to his shock he heard the mace connect, heard the buzzing clip: the ambassador spun down, fizzling, crippled, to land on the twigs of his nest, near the woman’s corpse, where it flopped about and emitted a high, keening wail.
Other ambassadors backed off a few metres, en masse.
Pan Renik stared at the crippled messenger for a second. Incredulous. Then he looked up, beyond the masses of hovering ambassadors, at the clear blue sky. There was no entity visible,