A Song for Lya by George R. R. Martin Read Free Book Online Page A

The Joined were still eating when we arrived. Eight of them were Shkeen of various sizes and hues, Greeshka pulsing atop their skulls. The other two were human.
    They wore the same long red gowns as the Shkeen, and they carried the same bells. One of them was a big man, with loose skin that hung in flaps, as if he'd lost a lot of weight recently. His hair was white and curly, his face marked by a broad smile and laugh wrinkles around his eyes. The other was a thin, dark weasel of a man with a big hooked nose.
    Both of them had Greeshka sucking at their skulls. The parasite riding the weasel was barely a pimple, but the older man had a lordly specimen that dripped down beyond his shoulders and into the back of the gown.
    Somehow, this time, it did look hideous.
    Lyanna and I walked up to them, trying hard to smile, not reading—at least at first. They smiled at us as we approached. Then they waved.
    “Hello,” the weasel said cheerily when we got there. “I've never seen you. Are you new on Shkea?"
    That took me slightly by surprise. I'd been expecting some sort of garbled mystic greeting, or maybe no greeting at all. I was assuming that somehow the human converts would have abandoned their humanity to become mock-Shkeen. I was wrong.
    “More or less,” I replied. And I read the weasel. He was genuinely pleased to see us, and just bubbled with contentment and good cheer. “We've been hired to talk to people like you.” I'd decided to be honest about it.
    The weasel stretched his grin farther than I thought it would go. “I am Joined, and happy,” he said. “I'll be glad to talk to you. My name is Lester Kamenz. What do you want to know, brother?"
    Lya, next to me, was going tense. I decided I'd let her read in depth while I asked questions. “When did you convert to the Cult?"
    “Cult?” Kamenz said.
    “The Union."
    He nodded, and I was struck by the grotesque similarity of his bobbing head and that of the elderly Shkeen we'd seen yesterday. “I have always been in the Union. You are in the Union. All that thinks is in the Union."
    “Some of us weren't told,” I said. “How about you? When did you realize you were in the Union?"
    “A year ago, Old Earth time. I was admitted to the ranks of the Joined only a few weeks ago. The First Joining is a joyful time. I am joyful. Now I will walk the streets and ring my bells until the Final Union."
    “What did you do before?"
    “Before?” A short vague look. “I ran machines once. I ran computers, in the Tower. But my life was empty, brother. I did not know I was in the Union, and I was alone. I had only machines, cold machines. Now I am Joined. Now I am"—again he searched—"not alone."
    I reached into him, and found the happiness still there, with love. But now there was an ache too, a vague recollection of past pain, the stink of unwelcome memories. Did these fade? Maybe the gift the Greeshka gave its victims was oblivion, sweet mindless rest and end of struggle. Maybe.
    I decided to try something. “That thing on your head,” I said, sharply. “It's a parasite. It's drinking your blood right now, feeding on it. As it grows, it will take more and more of the things you need to live. Finally it will start to eat your tissue. Understand? It will eat you. I don't know how painful it will be, but however it feels, at the end you'll be dead . Unless you come back to the Tower now, and have the surgeons remove it. Or maybe you could remove it yourself. Why don't you try? Just reach up and pull it off. Go ahead."
    I'd expected—what? Rage? Horror? Disgust? I got none of these. Kamenz just stuffed bread in his mouth and smiled at me, and all read was his love and joy and a little pity.
    “The Greeshka does not kill,” he said finally. “The Greeshka gives joy and happy Union. Only those who have no Greeshka die. They are ... alone. Oh, forever alone.” Something in his mind trembled with sudden fear, but it faded quickly.
    I glanced at Lya. She was stiff and