THE THREE LIVES OF CHRISTINA THE ASTONISHING (#40)

As Told by the Holy Woman in Her Own Words
A Hundred or So Years after the End of the World

The Duke sat back. A handsome man, intelligent and spoiled. When he had first peered at me in the terrible chair, I had sensed an interesting presence. “You will now tell me, truthfully and at once, how you acquired your powers.”
“I died and went to the world of Light and Love,” I said. “Giver told me to come back in an indestructible mortal body and show people the way to righteous behavior.”
“And have you succeeded?” he sneered.
I hesitated, then blurted the honest truth. “No!”
“Why not?”
“The things I do with my indestructible mortal body either frighten people or amuse them. They think I’m”—I paused, then uttered the word I had learned in the white city—“a freak.”
The Duke gave a short bark of laughter. “Excellent! From now on you’ll be my freak. I want to see everything you can do.”
“I won’t make a spectacle of myself for your amusement,” I shot back. “I’m through with that. And don’t think threatening me will get you anywhere. I can’t die.”
Once these words were out of my mouth, I couldn’t believe I’d said them. It was true death threats served no purpose with me now, but I’d been raised to hold the Duke in total reverence.
“Nonsense,” the Duke said. “I intend to study you for scientific purposes. Perhaps your abilities can be replicated in others or”—he eyed me speculatively—“in children fathered on you.” When he saw this threat had hit the bull’s eye, he laughed out loud. “Don’t tell me you’re a virgin!”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t meet his eye.
The Duke tossed a sack full of stale bread at my feet. “Have some more to eat.”
To my distress, the proximity of these dry husks worked a curious effect on my starving body, to wit: my breasts tingled and once more two wet spots appeared on the front of my gown. I tried to hide them, but the Duke had already noticed and had two of his men pull it down. Sure enough, my breasts were leaking again. Not milk this time, a thicker golden liquid. The Duke got up from his chair, stepped over a dozing coyote, and climbed down from the platform. Coming up uncomfortably close to me, he swiped a casual finger over my left breast and tasted it. “Giver take me, olive oil!”
To this, briefly possessed again by some little demon of rebellion, I smartly replied, “Did you expect me to eat this stale bread without it?”
Not taking his eyes off me, he said to the guards who’d brought me, “Take her to my chamber.” The two young men and all the teenage boys except the blonde one snickered as the guards marched me off the dais.
The animals took no notice whatsoever.

(to be continued tomorrow)