From somewhere came the idea that there were many different levels of sleeping, of unconsciousness, and therefore of awakening. In the midst of this pleasant woozy calm - warm, pleasantly swaddled, self‐huggingly curled up, a sort of ruddy darkness behind the eyelids - it was an easy and comforting thing to contemplate the many ways one might be away, and then come back.
You fell asleep just for an instant sometimes; that sudden nod and jerk awake again, lasting a moment. Or you had short naps, often self‐timed, limited by knowing you had a few minutes or a half‐hour or whatever. Of course you had your classic Good Night’s Sleep, however much things like shift systems and all‐night facilities and drugs and city lighting might sometimes interfere.
They took him away and asked him many questions, all of which he answered truthfully. Then they tortured him to make sure he’d been telling the truth. Finally, uncertain where his loyalties might lie, unwilling to support yet another mouth to feed and judging his torment‐broken body of little practical use, they trussed him and fired him from the giant trebuchet in the great tower.
By chance he fell to earth not far from the tunnel he had helped dig, landing with a thump that some of his old comrades heard above them as they tramped back to camp after another back‐breaking shift stopping up one tunnel and continuing with their own.
His last thought was that he had once dreamed of flying.
She had been born an Intagliate. She was certainly a human, and a Sichultian (you learned early on there were other types of human, but it was taken for granted that Sichultians were the best sort) but more than just a Sichultian: an Intagliate, somebody whose skin, whose entire body, whose every internal organ and part of their external physical appearance was different - markedly different - from that of everybody else. Intagliates looked like ordinary people only in silhouette, or in lighting conditions so poor you could hardly see them at all. Turn on a lamp, come out into the daylight, and they were revealed as the fabulous creatures they were. An Intagliate was covered, head to foot, in what was called a congenitally administered tattoo. Lededje had been born tattooed, emerging from the womb with the most fabulously intricate patterns indelibly encoded at a cellular level onto her skin and throughout her body.
The rights and well‐being of the Intagliate, they would point out, were protected by an entire network of strictly applied laws to ensure that they could not be neglected or mistreated by those who effectively owned them, and indeed those who were Marked could even be regarded as being amongst the most privileged people in society, in a sense, being raised in the absolute lap of luxury, mixing with the very cream of society, attending all the most important social events and formal court occasions and never being expected to have to work for their keep. Most people would happily surrender their so‐ called “freedom” to live like that. They were esteemed, precious, and almost - though not quite - beyond price. What more could somebody who would otherwise have been born into grinding poverty ask for?
Comments 9
You fell asleep just for an instant sometimes; that sudden nod and jerk awake again, lasting a moment. Or you had short naps, often self‐timed, limited by knowing you had a few minutes or a half‐hour or whatever.
Of course you had your classic Good Night’s Sleep, however much things like shift systems and all‐night facilities and drugs and city lighting might sometimes interfere.
Reply
By chance he fell to earth not far from the tunnel he had helped dig, landing with a thump that some of his old comrades heard above them as they tramped back to camp after another back‐breaking
shift stopping up one tunnel and continuing with their own.
His last thought was that he had once dreamed of flying.
Reply
Reply
there were other types of human, but it was taken for granted that Sichultians were the best sort) but
more than just a Sichultian: an Intagliate, somebody whose skin, whose entire body, whose every
internal organ and part of their external physical appearance was different - markedly different - from
that of everybody else.
Intagliates looked like ordinary people only in silhouette, or in lighting conditions so poor you
could hardly see them at all. Turn on a lamp, come out into the daylight, and they were revealed as the
fabulous creatures they were. An Intagliate was covered, head to foot, in what was called a congenitally
administered tattoo. Lededje had been born tattooed, emerging from the womb with the most
fabulously intricate patterns indelibly encoded at a cellular level onto her skin and throughout her
body.
Reply
network of strictly applied laws to ensure that they could not be neglected or mistreated by those who
effectively owned them, and indeed those who were Marked could even be regarded as being amongst
the most privileged people in society, in a sense, being raised in the absolute lap of luxury, mixing with
the very cream of society, attending all the most important social events and formal court occasions and
never being expected to have to work for their keep. Most people would happily surrender their so‐
called “freedom” to live like that. They were esteemed, precious, and almost - though not quite -
beyond price. What more could somebody who would otherwise have been born into grinding poverty
ask for?
Reply
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