Sin of Origin by John Barnes

Author:John Barnes [Barnes, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sci Fi
Publisher: New English Library
Published: 1991-02-21T00:00:00+00:00

“I suppose not. There are lots of things that are outside the rule books but have to be done anyway.” Hauskyld held up the two microphones he had found and pulled just before Kanegawa got there. The Templar gave him a slight smile, but then there was nothing left to say, so they sat in silence.

The troopers who came for him looked vaguely ashamed. Just as they arrived, Kanegawa clasped Hauskyld's arm and whispered “I’ll pray for you.”

Then he was out the door, walking between the two guards up the stairs onto the parapet. It was only when they began to tie him to the post that he finally really believed this was happening.

The five posts held them up on the wall, arms over their heads for Rha’ngri, Clio, and Hauskyld, front feet lashed to a crosspiece for Kuf. Thingachganderook’s fins were pulled to their widest extension and clamped to the post. Hauskyld had only a hazy idea of the handsnake’s anatomy, but he thought that was probably horribly painful.

Menkent was just risen, so the main discomfort was the cramps in his arm muscles—and of course the sore mouth from being slapped there when he had tried to talk to the others. The world seemed to narrow down to just the pain in his forearms and shoulders; he could look around and see with perfect clarity, but nothing he saw made much difference to him.

One guard, off duty, came up and sat down facing Clio; twice, irresolutely, he got up as if to touch her, but the second time an officer saw him and made him leave. On his way past Hauskyld, the guard casually jabbed an elbow into his solar plexus, leaving Hauskyld gasping for breath, and went on his way. After a little while Hauskyld's breath came back and his stomach was only a little sore, and he went back to looking around him as he had been doing. He realized he was beginning to be thirsty— a little vomit had come up when the guard hit him and was burning his throat.

The sun crept toward noon. Out over the mesas, Hauskyld could see a number of triples circling on thermals—as he watched, there were more of them, as if they were taking a particular interest. Hauskyld struggled to clear his mind, to think about this.

Perhaps an oncoming attack? It didn’t seem likely. If it were an attack, more troops would be rushing to man the walls—but the guard was less than usual, and the few who were on duty were lounging around, indifferent to the world around them. Even though the triples were now swinging almost into range, no one was even readying a ballista.

At first he thought it was pure hallucination brought on by pain and thirst, then that he was seeing double or more. But he squirmed, waking his arm muscles into fresh agony and driving a small sliver from the post into the skin on his back, and his mind and vision cleared for a moment.

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