Devices and Desires by K. J. Parker Read Free Book Online

abomination. In light of the gravity of your offense,
     we hereby sentence you to be strangled with the bowstring, and we decree that your head shall be displayed above the gates
     of the department of ordnance for thirty days, as a warning to others. These proceedings are concluded.”
    As they led him back to the cells, he sensed something unusual in the way they reacted to him. It wasn’t fear, but they were
     keeping their distance, touching him as little as possible. Disgust, maybe; but if that was what they were feeling, they hid
     it well. They’d been overtly hostile toward him before the trial, when they brought him his food and water. There wasn’t any
     of that now. Compassion, possibly? No, definitely not.
    He’d had his three guesses, it was annoying him, and a condemned man doesn’t have to worry about getting into trouble if he
     annoys his warders. He stopped.
    “Look,” he said. “What is it? Have I just grown an extra head?”
    They looked at each other. They weren’t sure what to do. The older man, a northshoreman by the name of Bollo Curiopalates,
     who’d made a habit of accidentally-on-purpose kicking Ziani on the shins when he brought him his evening meal, pulled a wry
     face and shrugged.
    “No offense, right?” he said. “Just, we never met one of your lot before.”
    “My lot?”
    “Abominators.” Bollo shrugged. “It’s not like murderers and thieves,” he went on, “it’s different. Can’t understand it, really;
     what’d make someone do a thing like that.”
    Curiosity, then; and the diffidence that goes with it, when you’re staring at someone and they stare back. He could try and
     explain, but what would be the point? A man with a cause, now, a true abominator, would seize this chance of converting one
     last disciple, possibly lighting a candle that would never go out. Ziani had no cause, so he said, “Evil.”
    The warders looked startled. “You what?”
    “Evil,” Ziani replied, as blandly as he could. “I was in the market one day, years ago now, and there was this man selling
     lamps. They were cheap and I needed one, so I bought one. Got it home, unscrewed the cap to fill it up with oil, and this
     thing came out of it. Like a puff of white smoke, it was. Well, I must’ve passed out, because the next thing I remember was
     waking up, and it was pitch dark outside the window; and ever since then I get these terrible uncontrollable urges to do really
     bad, wicked things. Absolutely nothing I can do about it, can’t control it, just have to go with the flow. And look where
     I’ve ended up.” He sighed. “My life ruined, just like that. Only goes to show, you can’t be too careful.”
    The warders looked at him for rather a long time; then Bollo said, “All right, move along,” in a soft, strained voice. At
     the cell door, he said, “That was all just a joke, right? You were just being funny.”
    Ziani frowned. “Don’t be stupid,” he said. “I’m going to die in an hour or so, why the hell would I lie about a thing like
     that?”
    They closed the door on him, and he sat down on the floor. It had been a valid question: what on earth had possessed him to
     do such a reckless, stupid thing? Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of an answer, and he’d been searching for one ever since
     they arrested him. If they bothered marking the graves of abominators, his headstone would have to read:
SEEMED LIKE A GOOD IDEA AT THE TIME
    Wonderful epitaph for a wasted life.
    In an hour or so, it wouldn’t matter anymore. He’d be out of it; the story would go on, but he wouldn’t be in it anymore.
     He’d be a sad memory in the minds of those who loved him, a wound for time to heal, and of course they’d never mention him
     to strangers, rarely to each other. A new man would take his place at work, and it’d be pretty uncomfortable there for a week
     or so until he’d settled in and there was no longer any need for his replacement to ask how the other