Individuality -- Fiction; Love stories; Men -- Psychology -- Fiction; Psychological fiction; Science fiction; Time travel -- Fiction
We have seen one of such men burned alive in the square of the
City. And it was a sight which has stayed with us through the
years, and it haunts us, and follows us, and it gives us no rest.
We were a child then, ten years old. And we stood in the great
square with all the children and all the men of the City, sent to
behold the burning. They brought the Transgressor out into the
square and they led them to the pyre. They had torn out the
tongue of the Transgressor, so that they could speak no longer.
The Transgressor were young and tall. They had hair of gold and
eyes blue as morning. They walked to the pyre, and their step did
not falter. And of all the faces on that square, of all the faces
which shrieked and screamed and spat curses upon them, theirs was
the calmest and the happiest face.
As the chains were wound over their body at the stake, and a
flame set to the pyre, the Transgressor looked upon the City.
There was a thin thread of blood running from the corner of their
mouth, but their lips were smiling. And a monstrous thought came
to us then, which has never left us. We had heard of Saints.
There are the Saints of Labor, and the Saints of the Councils,
and the Saints of the Great Rebirth. But we had never seen a
Saint nor what the likeness of a Saint should be. And we thought
then, standing in the square, that the likeness of a Saint was
the face we saw before us in the flames, the face of the
Transgressor of the Unspeakable Word.
As the flames rose, a thing happened which no eyes saw but ours,
else we would not be living today. Perhaps it had only seemed to
us. But it seemed to us that the eyes of the Transgressor had
chosen us from the crowd and were looking straight upon us. There
was no pain in their eyes and no knowledge of the agony of their
body. There was only joy in them, and pride, a pride holier than
is fit for human pride to be. And it seemed as if these eyes were
trying to tell us something through the flames, to send into our
eyes some word without sound. And it seemed as if these eyes were
begging us to gather that word and not to let it go from us and
from the earth. But the flames rose and we could not guess the
word....
What—even if we have to burn for it like the Saint of the
Pyre—what is the Unspeakable Word?
PART THREE
We, Equality 7-2521, have discovered a new power of nature. And
we have discovered it alone, and we alone are to know it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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