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Show Anting Alone Page 329 social-justice lobbyist to enjoy when she got back from Washington, D.C Perhaps. For now, Sam was content to sit here with good Sister Simone, savoring the almost physical sensation of something being cleansed not only from the microtape, but also from his system: cleansing the last vestiges of greed and corruption and opportunism and illiberal ambition and critical intelligence from his soul along with the recorded voice of Spikey. So it must be multiply irritating to hear the sarge's real voice come squeaking suddenly over his shoulder; accompanied by a fingerpoke in the upper spine. "I come to get you off'n my cousin's back, pilgrim." "The only hope for the preservation of mankind," Father Wagstaff Bopp's voice was droning in the background, "can be the increased feminization, shall we say, of the species. No longer, with our limitless destructive capabilities, can we afford to indulge ourselves in the swaggering machismo ethic of the past, with its emphasis on aggression and egotism and self-assertion and all the other appurtenances of. . ." Sam's right index finger seemed suddenly to take on a life of its own. Like a worm his finger started to slither across the Sony's cold chrome chassis toward the play, as opposed to record, button. He tried to stop it, and seemed to be succeeding; but he wondered, why the sudden animation of that digit? Was it because the squeaky voice reminded Sam of how much he'd once hated Spikey - not as a murderer of helpless old men, not as a luster after helpless little French/Irish A-plus children, not as an individual organism of any specifiable description - but as a generic type? Was Sam's big |
