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        "Watch," said Aldarch softly, as Guest Gulkan looked away.
"Watch. Look closely. Watch and learn."
        By an effort of great self-control, Guest forced himself to
watch, forced himself to look closely, and forced himself to see,
to learn, and to understand.
        The forty days of immersion in sesame oil had caused the skin
to be eaten away from the body, exposing the bare flesh and the
blood vessels. Little remained of the face except those parts which
had been free from the fluid. The rest was gone. As for the head,
why, the sesame oil had eaten away the skin of the scalp. The
bald bones of the skull were bare, their sutures clearly visible.
Across the bare bone there laced a webwork of arteries.
        "Soon," said the Mutilator. "Soon it will begin. As the water
dries, so it will begin. He is tender after his long confinement,
and the air is painful."
        "The air?" said Guest, not quite understanding.
        "As you see," said Aldarch, indicating the specimen on the
floor in front of them.
        Even as Guest watched, the anatomical specimen before him
began to tremble as if shivering. Then it began to move, warping
in slow-motion agony. Guest was reminded of a spider crumpling in
a flame. But this was a slow, slow fire. This fire did not quickly
consume the flesh.
        The man on the floor jerked in spasms. His wet slithering
spasms reminded Guest obscenely of orgasms. Aldarch the Third
watched with intense interest. Even for him, this was a special
thing. He did not see this every day. The Mutilator's attendants
were, one and all, frozen into a hieratic stillness.
        "It hurts him," said Aldarch, speaking with a softness which
the interpreter translated in a bare whisper. "He is burning. It
hurts him to breathe. It hurts him to be."
        As if in response, the writhing man began to mutter, speaking
in choked intakes, speaking in the language of drowning, speaking
of pain, of strangulation, of the unutterable.
        "Always," said Aldarch, intently. "Always. It always happens
this way. He is speaking."
        "Of what?" said Guest.
        "Of his pain," said Aldarch. "He begs for his mother in her
mercy. He begs. But. But if you ask - he can tell you the future
if you ask."

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