Descending Road - PORTALUCE by Dana W. Paxson

PORTALUCE

1541 4D

Anhmharh looked down in the darkness. Here was a human Anhmharh could work with: old, wounded, near death; Anhmharh‘s gift would make her loyal.

She cradled the woman’s head, took her hand, and placed her male host’s lips against the woman’s. Now. The deep surge welled from within Anhmharh‘s muscular andro body, and the dozens of encysted Zashinhalh moved through the kiss to plunge into the dying woman’s belly.

Now, again. Anhmharh urged energy forth from herself, and into the wounds and damage the woman had suffered. Convert these tissues, remove these poisons, generate colonies of supportive microbes in these places, yes. Strip the scars from the nerves of the heart, reinnervate; draw the toxins from the brain and the liver. To Anhmharh, this was singing, this was pleasure: harmonies of chemistry and temperature and flow emerged new in the woman, her heart accelerated and steadied, and as Anhmharh withdrew, the woman took a deep breath.

“Who are you?” the woman rasped, coughing, clearing her throat.

“I have healed you. We are going out to the countryside, far up out of the City. There is work for you to do.”

“But who are you? Both my eyes can see! Why did you do this?”

“Life is good to live, isn’t it?”

“It was, but then—“

“It is good again, now. Do you like the way you feel?” The endorphins and amnestics Anhmharh had caused to be triggered were taking hold. Soon the woman would forget most of her former life.

“Yes. Oh, yes!” The woman stood, stretched her arms, turned. “You’re a gorgeous young man, even for an andro. But how do we get out of here?”

The ship’s door appeared before them as if it had always been there.

“Come with me,” Anhmharh said, taking the woman’s hand. It was smooth and young-looking. “I will clothe you, and give you food, and send you out to heal others as I healed you.” The andro body Anhmharh was now using would make a good meal for this new carrier.

“I’m — my belly has gotten big.” The woman patted herself, and looked shyly at Anhmharh‘s host-body.

“Your coverall is too small, now. I’ll find another one for you.” The encysted Zashinhalh, in the hundreds, took up much space. One of them would become this woman’s partner.

“I feel so young.” The woman smiled.

“You are.” These beings were pitifully easy to please, to control. “I give you a new name, now, and a new life. You are Portaluce. Here is what you must do.”

Story List	SURPRISE ME	Author Page
USER SURVEY	PUZZLE ME	MAKE ELM MARK

HOVER Lucida Bright BARE	HOVER Lucida Bright FULL	HOVER Palatino Linotype BARE
HOVER Palatino Linotype FULL	HOVER Times New Roman BARE	HOVER Times New Roman FULL
PAD Arial BARE	PAD Arial FULL	PAD Lucida Bright BARE
PAD Lucida Bright FULL	PAD Times New Roman BARE	PAD Times New Roman FULL


	PORTALUCE 1541 4D Anhmharh looked down in the darkness. Here was a human Anhmharh could work with: old, wounded, near death; Anhmharh‘s gift would make her loyal. She cradled the woman’s head, took her hand, and placed her male host’s lips against the woman’s. Now. The deep surge welled from within Anhmharh‘s muscular andro body, and the dozens of encysted Zashinhalh moved through the kiss to plunge into the dying woman’s belly. Now, again. Anhmharh urged energy forth from herself, and into the wounds and damage the woman had suffered. Convert these tissues, remove these poisons, generate colonies of supportive microbes in these places, yes. Strip the scars from the nerves of the heart, reinnervate; draw the toxins from the brain and the liver. To Anhmharh, this was singing, this was pleasure: harmonies of chemistry and temperature and flow emerged new in the woman, her heart accelerated and steadied, and as Anhmharh withdrew, the woman took a deep breath. “Who are you?” the woman rasped, coughing, clearing her throat. “I have healed you. We are going out to the countryside, far up out of the City. There is work for you to do.” “But who are you? Both my eyes can see! Why did you do this?” “Life is good to live, isn’t it?” “It was, but then—“ “It is good again, now. Do you like the way you feel?” The endorphins and amnestics Anhmharh had caused to be triggered were taking hold. Soon the woman would forget most of her former life. “Yes. Oh, yes!” The woman stood, stretched her arms, turned. “You’re a gorgeous young man, even for an andro. But how do we get out of here?” The ship’s door appeared before them as if it had always been there. “Come with me,” Anhmharh said, taking the woman’s hand. It was smooth and young-looking. “I will clothe you, and give you food, and send you out to heal others as I healed you.” The andro body Anhmharh was now using would make a good meal for this new carrier. “I’m — my belly has gotten big.” The woman patted herself, and looked shyly at Anhmharh‘s host-body. “Your coverall is too small, now. I’ll find another one for you.” The encysted Zashinhalh, in the hundreds, took up much space. One of them would become this woman’s partner. “I feel so young.” The woman smiled. “You are.” These beings were pitifully easy to please, to control. “I give you a new name, now, and a new life. You are Portaluce. Here is what you must do.”