On Tue, 26 Oct 1999, Alan Harnum wrote:
Oh yes. The food. Meals were often given to guests as a
means of welcome, and to not eat was rude. She took a spoonful
of dark grey mash and swallowed it. Bland, grain-based. Very
nourishing, but uninteresting. A sense of taste, far more
refined than any humans, was a basic part of her construction.
Not that she'd had much chance to test it out in the past.
Why? Why give a war machine a highly developed sense of taste?
The attendants drew the cloak away from the boy. Revealed
to the light, the handsome, bearded head growing out of his left
shoulder and back blinked its eyes, and then focused on her.
"Hello, Ifurita," it said.
Funky.
"What is too far?" Hard to tell it was a question, that
voice was so empty of inflection.
Heh.
"Deva," he asked, "why did you not inform me earlier that
what I saw were not God's angels, but the Phantom Tribe."
Tribe?"
She stared. The other girl stared back. Her face was
darker, tanned; her hair was much longer, done up in a bun at the
back of her head. Other than that, they were identical.
This must have been how Makoto felt meeting Fatora, Nanami
thought. My own face, looking into my own face--my own eyes into
own eyes.
Cool.
Hurry up and write more :)
John Biles
Emperor of all He Surveys
http://www.tass.org/~rhea/falcon.html
"He who breaks a thing to find out what it is, has left the path of
wisdom."
-Gandalf