cowards and weaklings, guilt-ridden, confused, smug, meaningless, pretentious, soft, males who have permitted themselves to be tricked out of the prerogatives of their sex, robbed of the birthright of their own manhood, who dare not be true to the needs of their own blood, males too weak, too frightened and ashamed, to be men."
It startled me that he had said these things, for I had thought myself unusual among the men of Earth in my manhood. Indeed, I had often been castigated and belittled for having been too masculine. Now he spoke of me as though I had not even, as yet, begun to glimpse the meaning of true manhood. I was shaken. I began to tremble. What then could be biological manhood, in the fullness of its rationality and strength? I bad, already, be begun to suspect that manhood was not a mere pretention, as I had been taught, but soomething selected for, as seems reasonable, like the nature of the eagle and the lion, in the long, harsh realities of a brutal evolution, but now, for the first time, I had begun to suspect that my conception of manhood, so advanced I had thought, did little more than begin to hint at the possible glories of a suppressed, thwarted, tortured reality, a reality genetically dispositional in every cell in a man's body, a reality feared and castigated by a counterbiological culture. I came from a world in which eagles cannot fly. I put down my head. Lions do not well thrive in a country of poisons.
"Look up at me," said the heavy man.
I lifted my head.
"I find you guilty of treason," he said.
"I have committed no treason," I said.
"You are guilty of the most heinous of treasons," said the heavy man. "You have betrayed yourself, your sex, your manhood. You are a despicable traitor, not only to yourself but to true men, everywhere. You are an insult not only to your own manhood but to that of others. You are a sniveling coward and a weakling, worthy to be held only in the most profound of contempts."
"A man must be strong enough to be weak," I said. "He must be brave enough to be sweet. True men must be gentle and tender, and considerate, and solicitous, and do what women wish. That is how they prove they are true men."
"True men give orders to women, and women obey," said the heavy man.
"It is not what I have been taught," I said.
"You have been taught lies," said the heavy man. "Surely your own misery and unhappiness should tell you that."
"He has been found guilty of treason," said one of the men holding my arms. "What is the sentence?"
The heavy man looked at the others. I felt the wire on my throat. "What should the sentence be?" he asked.
"The termination of his miserable existence," said one of the men, "death."
The heavy man looked down at me. "I wonder," said he, "if there is any hope for such as you."
"Let the sentence be death," said another one of the men.
"Or something else," said the heavy man.
"I do not understand," said the fellow who had first suggested that I be slain.
"Look at him," said the heavy man. "Does he not seem a typical male of Earth?"
"Yes," said one of the men. "Yes;" said another.
"Yet, beyond that," said the heavy man. "his features appear symmetrical and his body, though soft and weak, is large."
"Yes?" said one of the men.
"Do you think a woman might find him pleasing?" asked the heavy man.
"Perhaps." smiled one of the men.
"Throw him on his belly and tie his legs," said the heavy man. I felt the wire whipped from my throat. I was thrown forward on the cement. My belt was loosened and torn from its loops. My ankles were crossed and, with the belt, lashed together, tightly. In a few seconds I felt my shirt being jerked away from my left side, and felt the cold swab of the cotton and alcohol and, a moment later, the entrance of the needle, deeply, into my flesh.
"What are you going to do with me?" I asked, terrified.
"Do not talk now," he said.
I felt the fluid, entering my body. It was apparently considerably more than he had injected
It startled me that he had said these things, for I had thought myself unusual among the men of Earth in my manhood. Indeed, I had often been castigated and belittled for having been too masculine. Now he spoke of me as though I had not even, as yet, begun to glimpse the meaning of true manhood. I was shaken. I began to tremble. What then could be biological manhood, in the fullness of its rationality and strength? I bad, already, be begun to suspect that manhood was not a mere pretention, as I had been taught, but soomething selected for, as seems reasonable, like the nature of the eagle and the lion, in the long, harsh realities of a brutal evolution, but now, for the first time, I had begun to suspect that my conception of manhood, so advanced I had thought, did little more than begin to hint at the possible glories of a suppressed, thwarted, tortured reality, a reality genetically dispositional in every cell in a man's body, a reality feared and castigated by a counterbiological culture. I came from a world in which eagles cannot fly. I put down my head. Lions do not well thrive in a country of poisons.
"Look up at me," said the heavy man.
I lifted my head.
"I find you guilty of treason," he said.
"I have committed no treason," I said.
"You are guilty of the most heinous of treasons," said the heavy man. "You have betrayed yourself, your sex, your manhood. You are a despicable traitor, not only to yourself but to true men, everywhere. You are an insult not only to your own manhood but to that of others. You are a sniveling coward and a weakling, worthy to be held only in the most profound of contempts."
"A man must be strong enough to be weak," I said. "He must be brave enough to be sweet. True men must be gentle and tender, and considerate, and solicitous, and do what women wish. That is how they prove they are true men."
"True men give orders to women, and women obey," said the heavy man.
"It is not what I have been taught," I said.
"You have been taught lies," said the heavy man. "Surely your own misery and unhappiness should tell you that."
"He has been found guilty of treason," said one of the men holding my arms. "What is the sentence?"
The heavy man looked at the others. I felt the wire on my throat. "What should the sentence be?" he asked.
"The termination of his miserable existence," said one of the men, "death."
The heavy man looked down at me. "I wonder," said he, "if there is any hope for such as you."
"Let the sentence be death," said another one of the men.
"Or something else," said the heavy man.
"I do not understand," said the fellow who had first suggested that I be slain.
"Look at him," said the heavy man. "Does he not seem a typical male of Earth?"
"Yes," said one of the men. "Yes;" said another.
"Yet, beyond that," said the heavy man. "his features appear symmetrical and his body, though soft and weak, is large."
"Yes?" said one of the men.
"Do you think a woman might find him pleasing?" asked the heavy man.
"Perhaps." smiled one of the men.
"Throw him on his belly and tie his legs," said the heavy man. I felt the wire whipped from my throat. I was thrown forward on the cement. My belt was loosened and torn from its loops. My ankles were crossed and, with the belt, lashed together, tightly. In a few seconds I felt my shirt being jerked away from my left side, and felt the cold swab of the cotton and alcohol and, a moment later, the entrance of the needle, deeply, into my flesh.
"What are you going to do with me?" I asked, terrified.
"Do not talk now," he said.
I felt the fluid, entering my body. It was apparently considerably more than he had injected
Similar Books
