Cosmocopia by Paul di Filippo Read Free Book Online

pity.
    Unstoppering the bottle of cleansing livewater, she decanted the liquid on the monster’s face.
    The livewater emerged as a coherent shimmering silver blob, exhibiting irregular pseudopod extensions of its body. After gauging the surface it rested upon, it began to clean, absorbing all extraneous, non-living matter into itself. Up and down and underneath the monster’s body it coursed, leaving unsoiled skin in its wake.
    When the livewater had finished cleaning the monster, Crutchsump allowed it to go to work on her pallet, searching for night-mites and other unwelcome visitors.
    The lineaments of the monster, freed of their obscuring mud overcoat, were now plain. Its skin, marked with scratches and welts from its time in the Shulgin Mudflats, seemed normal enough. Even the bizarre growth at the crux of its legs looked oddly natural, not teratogenic or unhealthy.
    Rocking back on her haunches, Crutchsump pondered the monster for a longish meditative interval. Here was someone more unfortunate than herself, without a friend in the world. The monster’s condition and nature intrigued her. …
    At last she was distracted from her reflections by the reappearance of the livewater. The amorphous dirty blob emerged, sated, from within the rags of her pallet, and she coaxed it back into its bottle, for which it had a tropism. Later, she would return it for a partial refund good toward purchase of another such.
    Crutchsump arose and laid out the food and the clothing for the monster’s inspection. She took a few items for her own nourishment, and enjoyed them thoroughly. Then she commenced a long wait.
    The light through the basement windows circumnavigated the rooms. Pirkle came and went on several wurzelish errands, always making sure to inspect the monster upon each return. Once an unexpected smell or motion caused the wurzel to rear up on a few of its hind legs and display its normally hidden under-beak. But when the monster offered no further challenge, Pirkle subsided.
    When the quality of the light began to approach dusk, the monster at last opened its eyes in flickering stages and took cognizance of its surroundings. Looking alarmed and frightened—insofar as Crutchsump could read its mangled face—the monster spoke.
    “I—But where—? How did I—?”
    Crutchsump discovered that with the monster conscious, she could no longer tolerate its naked face so easily. She picked up the new caul and thrust it forward.
    “Here, please—put this on.”
    The monster accepted the caul and donned it, aligning the eyeholes with its eyes. The monster regarded Crutchsump to make sure it had done right. The portion of the caul that would normally contain its introciptor drooped in an unintentionally comic fashion, as in some stage farce. Crutchsump found herself stifling a laugh. How could any of the shifflet harvesters have ever been scared of this creature?
    Although the monster’s naked body still needed covering, Crutchsump did not press the dhoti upon it right away. Other matters were more important.
    “Are you hungry?”
    “Yes. I think so. Yes!”
    “Here. Help yourself.”
    The monster fell eagerly upon the buffet. It brought a crisp-skinned faufaw to its mouth, but the caul intervened.
    “Like this,” said Crutchsump, illustrating.
    The monster ate its fill, consuming nearly everything. Crutchsump experienced a twinge when she thought of how much of her back-straining labor had gone into purchasing that meal. Could she sustain the monster for very long? But perhaps he might come to support himself somehow….
    Once replete, the monster dropped back down upon the clean pallet. Crutchsump used the moment to offer the dhoti to it.
    “Perhaps you’d want to wear this …?”
    The monster nodded. Standing, it slipped into the loincloth. Crutchsump was impressed with its muscular agility and the obvious utility of its slightly abnormal limbs. Apparently, so too was the monster. Inexplicably, it seemed to admire its