And The Devil Will Drag You Under (1979) by Jack L. Chalker Read Free Book Online
Authors: Jack L. Chalker
too. Heard some thunder a little bit ago. Besides, all you got are dark streets and a bunch of grown-ups with night jobs. Wouldn't help you see anything or find anything you couldn't do better in the morning, and you'd probably get at least a cold. Might as well relax, try to sleep-bed's over there. Tomorrow morn-ing I'll take you on a tour." He yawned.
She sighed, got up, and went over to the bed. It was only a slight improvement over the table and she didn't feel all that sleepy, but there was not much else she could do. The boy was right.
Medieval sexism and divine punishment, she thought, and shook her head in helplessness.
Nothing had ever looked so hopeless.
As she lay there; trying to sleep, her thoughts went back curiously to her father. "Never quit,"
he'd told her. "Quitters are losers."
But this is a little bit different from getting a ten on the floor exercise, Daddy, she answered him, but he was still there, still staring down at her, urging her on, insisting she was the best, that she could do anything.
And it was with those memories of a dead man and an alien world that she finally drifted off into sleep.
"Wake up!" the boy's voice called through a fog.
She groaned slightly and came a little bit awake, just enough to assure her mind and body that she'd rather go back to sleep. "What time is it?" she mumbled.
"After dawn," the boy replied. "The streets are sunlit and soon townsmen and traders will be about. It is the start of the day."
"I think I'd rather start the day a little later," she managed, and started to drift back into sleep.
Suddenly within her mind came a voice, a vast and ancient voice that was at once fatherly and chiding but nonetheless quite inhuman.
"SLOTH!" it charged, and then was gone. Suddenly she felt a force, a current, run through her entire mind and body. It wasn't painful, but it was certainly power-ful, as powerful a stimulant as she'd ever known or received.
She was wide awake now and virtually leaped from her bed. She felt like a coiled spring, supercharged, and somewhat frustrated at not really knowing just what it was she was supposed to do. It frightened her a little, too, and she said, more to herself than to the boy, "What's happening to me?"
The boy smiled. "Welcome to Zolkar," he replied playfully. "I don't know how it is beyond the world where you come from, but here you will act in the manner that the Holy Covenant says-whether you want to or not. Don't worry, you'll calm down in a little bit. That was only your first reminder. It gets worse the more times you do it."
His words held little comfort for her, now or for the future, but this little taste of Divine Will had a sober-ing and frightening effect on her. What kind of a place was this, anyway? And what kind of a life?
"Let's go get something to eat," the boy suggested, and moved toward the door. She followed, glad to be doing something.
Although it was probably not a half hour after sunrise, a lot of people were up and moving about. The air was filled with a curious mixture of odors, those of excrement and drying mud and garbage mixing with exotic smells of freshly baking bread and other active kitchen odors.
The temperature was already warm; there had been a thunderstorm during the night and the signs of it in mud puddles and drying walls were everywhere, but now, with the sun, starting to bear down and evapora-tion well under way, the air was almost like a steambath. If in fact her nudity presented no barrier or threat except to her modesty, then she was better off than the boy, who obviously was expected to wear the heavy if ragged robe.
Her shyness quickly wore off as they turned a corner and walked down a main street crowded with numer-ous robed and long-haired men and women dressed in colorful but baggy cloth dresses wearing "veils"-actu-ally pieces of cloth tied in such a way that they were not so much veils as kerchiefs over nose and mouth. All the women looked like a gang of female bank
She sighed, got up, and went over to the bed. It was only a slight improvement over the table and she didn't feel all that sleepy, but there was not much else she could do. The boy was right.
Medieval sexism and divine punishment, she thought, and shook her head in helplessness.
Nothing had ever looked so hopeless.
As she lay there; trying to sleep, her thoughts went back curiously to her father. "Never quit,"
he'd told her. "Quitters are losers."
But this is a little bit different from getting a ten on the floor exercise, Daddy, she answered him, but he was still there, still staring down at her, urging her on, insisting she was the best, that she could do anything.
And it was with those memories of a dead man and an alien world that she finally drifted off into sleep.
"Wake up!" the boy's voice called through a fog.
She groaned slightly and came a little bit awake, just enough to assure her mind and body that she'd rather go back to sleep. "What time is it?" she mumbled.
"After dawn," the boy replied. "The streets are sunlit and soon townsmen and traders will be about. It is the start of the day."
"I think I'd rather start the day a little later," she managed, and started to drift back into sleep.
Suddenly within her mind came a voice, a vast and ancient voice that was at once fatherly and chiding but nonetheless quite inhuman.
"SLOTH!" it charged, and then was gone. Suddenly she felt a force, a current, run through her entire mind and body. It wasn't painful, but it was certainly power-ful, as powerful a stimulant as she'd ever known or received.
She was wide awake now and virtually leaped from her bed. She felt like a coiled spring, supercharged, and somewhat frustrated at not really knowing just what it was she was supposed to do. It frightened her a little, too, and she said, more to herself than to the boy, "What's happening to me?"
The boy smiled. "Welcome to Zolkar," he replied playfully. "I don't know how it is beyond the world where you come from, but here you will act in the manner that the Holy Covenant says-whether you want to or not. Don't worry, you'll calm down in a little bit. That was only your first reminder. It gets worse the more times you do it."
His words held little comfort for her, now or for the future, but this little taste of Divine Will had a sober-ing and frightening effect on her. What kind of a place was this, anyway? And what kind of a life?
"Let's go get something to eat," the boy suggested, and moved toward the door. She followed, glad to be doing something.
Although it was probably not a half hour after sunrise, a lot of people were up and moving about. The air was filled with a curious mixture of odors, those of excrement and drying mud and garbage mixing with exotic smells of freshly baking bread and other active kitchen odors.
The temperature was already warm; there had been a thunderstorm during the night and the signs of it in mud puddles and drying walls were everywhere, but now, with the sun, starting to bear down and evapora-tion well under way, the air was almost like a steambath. If in fact her nudity presented no barrier or threat except to her modesty, then she was better off than the boy, who obviously was expected to wear the heavy if ragged robe.
Her shyness quickly wore off as they turned a corner and walked down a main street crowded with numer-ous robed and long-haired men and women dressed in colorful but baggy cloth dresses wearing "veils"-actu-ally pieces of cloth tied in such a way that they were not so much veils as kerchiefs over nose and mouth. All the women looked like a gang of female bank
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