Assignment Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 750 words - 70

Assignment Example It is not true that cabbage is cheaply made and is of low quality. Red wine and beef steak are complimentary goods. The goods complement each other. A complementary good is one whose cross elasticity of demand is negative. That is, the demand of a complementary good will increase if the price of another good decreases. Similarly, the demand of a complementary good falls when the price of another good is increased. As such, because red wine and beef steak are complimentary goods (are consumed together), an increase in the price of red wine will discourage people from buying beef steak and thus a fall in demand for beef steak. Red wine has a negative cross elasticity of demand with respect to beef steak. The sales of generic frozen orange juice soared during recession because it is an inferior good. Inferior goods are those that provide an alternative for consumers to reducing their expenditure during harsh economic times. The demand for inferior goods soars with a decrease in the level of disposable income. On the other hand, the sales of freshly squeezed orange juice declined because it is a normal good. The demand for normal goods falls with a fall in income level. As such, during 2007/2008 recession, people turned to generic frozen orange juice to cut their expenditure and thus high sales recorded. On the other hand, the number of people buying freshly squeezed orange juice declined as their disposable income fell. At point A, change in price produces equal change in quantity demanded and hence elastic. At point B, the demand is probably inelastic because a change in price yields less percentage change in quantity demanded. The firm’s products have elastic demand. For goods with elastic demand, a small change in price will cause a big change in quantity demanded. Therefore, every time the firm increased the price, it Assignment Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 250 words - 185 Assignment Example Joycelyn’s objective of career development has been key to her high performance and provision of a worker friendly environment has enabled her to achieve a lot in her career (Mondy, Noe, & Gowan, 2005). Joycelyn has no longer taken human resource as a an administrative duty but as a responsibility to ensure that workers feel that their place of work as the right place to spend time due to the conditions that are provided by the employer. Worker motivation is a major driver to any institution that would want to get the maximum of the employees’ capability. A motivated worker has all his/her welfare well taken care of and it trickles down to the human resource to ensure that they motivate workers by providing them with essential services such as schools for their children, insurance covers etc and rewarding them fairly for the work they have done (Mondy, Noe, & Gowan, 2005). Madam Joycelyn success has come as a result of combination of various factors the work together and is geared towards the workers

Religious Figures Who Defied Reason Through Faith: Saint Bernadette of Lourdes :: Essays Papers

Religious Figures Who Defied Reason Through Faith: Saint Bernadette of Lourdes Saint Bernadette of Lourdes is not originally one whom the people of her time would expect to become a religious figure that could see holy apparitions and guide others into miraculous experiences. Contrarily, she was born to a family that experiences hardships and a great deal of misfortunes. Her family loses their money through bad investments and kind-heartedness, three of her siblings die at birth, and her father passes away leaving the family to fend for themselves. It almost seems as if the family is "destined to relive the fate of Job".1 Like Job in the bible, they experience many trials and tribulations, but hold steadfast to their beliefs. Little did the Soubouris family know that Bernadette would become a saint loved and revered by thousands in the Catholic Church. Bernadette will become a subject of controversy to some, being tested by powers of authority in the church and community, but is able to prove herself true and sane through her unyielding faith. The apparitions that would change Bernadette’s life and cause others to question her integrity and sanity first appear to her on February of 1858. Bernadette, her sister Toinette, and a friend, Jeanne Abadie go out to find wood the grotto. Although Bernadette’s mother objects to her going out in the cold weather due to her asthma, Bernadette pleads and wins her way. While out searching for wood in the grotto, Bernadette hears a gust of wind but nothing is moving. She goes to investigate and reports seeing a "gentle light" which continues to brighten.2 Next, she sees an apparition of a girl or young lady dressed in white smiling at her. The apparition first causes Bernadette to doubt what she is seeing is real, but she soon realizes that it is. When that apparition ends, she has a feeling of happiness and continues about the task, perplexed to what she has just experienced. Bernadette later confides the secret of the apparition to Toinette, but Toinette betrays her and tells their mother of what Bernadette had witnessed. The mother is disturbed and doubtful of Bernadette’s vision, and forbids her to go back to the grotto again. The father feels the same, but also feels that the family, which is already experiencing a time of hardship, would be vulnerable to ridicule if Bernadette’s story were to get out.

Fluke, or, I Know Why the Winged Whale Sings Chapter 21~22

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE I Lick the Body Electric The Maui sunset had set the sky on fire and everything in the bungalow had taken on the glowing pink tone of paradise – or hell, depending on where you were standing. Clay dismembered the bird and put the severed pieces on a platter to transport them to the grill. â€Å"You'll need something to bring those in on,† Clair said. Her dress was a purple hibiscus-flower print, and the orchid she wore in her hair looked like lavender dragonflies humping. She was dicing pickles into the macaroni salad. â€Å"What's wrong with this?† Clay held up the plate with the raw chicken. â€Å"You can't use the same plate. You'll get salmonella.† â€Å"Fine, fuck it,† Clay said, tossing the plate into the yard. The chicken parts bounced nicely, breading themselves with a light coating of sand, ants, and dried grass. â€Å"When did chicken become like plutonium anyway, for Christ's sake? You can't let it touch you or it's certain fucking death. And eggs and hamburgers kill you unless you cook them to the consistency of limestone! And if you turn on your fucking cell phone, the plane is going to plunge out of the sky in a ball of flames? And kids can't take a dump anymore but they have to have a helmet and pads on make them look like the Road Warrior. Right? Right? What the fuck happened to the world? When did everything get so goddamn deadly? Huh? I've been going to sea for thirty damned years, and nothing's killed me. I've swum with everything that can bite, sting, or eat you, and I've done every stupid thing at depth that any human can – and I'm still alive. Fuck, Clair, I was unconscious for an hour underwa ter less than a week ago, and it didn't kill me. Now you're going to tell me that I'm going to get whacked by a fucking chicken leg? Well, just fuck it then!† He didn't know where to go, so he came back in and slammed the screen door behind him, then opened it and slammed it again. â€Å"Goddamn it!† And he stood there, breathing hard. Not really looking at anything. Clair put down her knife and pickle, then wiped her hands. As she came toward Clay she pulled a large bobby pin from the back of her hair, and her long, thick locks cascaded down her back. She took Clay's right hand and kissed each of his fingertips, licked his thumb, then took his index finger in her mouth and made a show of removing it slowly and with maximum moisture. Clay looked at the floor, shaking. â€Å"Baby,† she said as she placed the bobby pin firmly between Clay's wet thumb and index finger, â€Å"I need you to go over to that wall and take this bobby pin and insert it ever so firmly into that electrical outlet over there.† Clay looked up at her at last. â€Å"Because,† she continued, â€Å"I know that you aren't mad at me and that you're just grieving for your friends, but I think you need to be reminded that you aren't invulnerable and that you can hurt even more than you do now. And I think it would be better if you did it yourself, because otherwise I'll have to brain you with your own iron skillet.† â€Å"That would be wrong,† Clay said. â€Å"It is a cruel world, baby.† Clay took her in his arms and buried his face in her hair and just stood there in the doorway for a long time. Amy had been missing for thirty-two hours. That morning a fisherman had found her kayak washing against some rocks on Molokai and had called the rental company in Maui. A life jacket was still strapped on the front of the boat, he said. The Coast Guard had stopped looking already. â€Å"Now, let me go,† Clair said. â€Å"I have to get that chicken out of the yard and rinse it off.† â€Å"I don't think we should eat that.† â€Å"Please. I'm going to cook it up for Kona. You're taking me out.† â€Å"I am?† â€Å"Of course.† â€Å"After I stick this in the outlet, right?† â€Å"You can grieve, Clay – that's as it should be – but you can't feel guilty for being alive.† â€Å"So, I don't have to stick this in the outlet?† â€Å"You used foul language at me, baby. I don't see any way around it.† â€Å"Oh, well, that's true. You go get Kona's chicken out of the yard. I'll do this.† On the second morning after Amy was lost at sea, Clay walked to the seaside, a rocky beach between some condos north of Lahaina – too short for morning runners, too shallow for a bathing crowd. He stood on an outcropping of rocks with the waves crashing around him and tried to let pure hatred run out of his heart. Clay Demodocus was a guy who liked things, and among the things he had liked the most was the sea, but this morning he held nothing but disdain for his old friend. The sapphire blue was indifferent, the waves elitist. She'd kill you without even learning your name. â€Å"You bitch,† Clay said, loud enough for the sea to hear. He spit into her face and walked back home. That old trickster Maui had been sitting on a rock nearby watching, and he laughed at Clay's hubris. Maui admired a man with more balls than brains, even a haole. He cast a small blessing at the photographer – just a trinket for the laugh, a trifling little mango of magic – and then he headed off to the great banyan tree to fog the film of Japanese tourists. Back in what was now only his office, Clay dug Amy's resume out of his files and made the call. He braced himself, trying to figure out how, exactly, he was going to tell these strangers that their daughter was missing and assumed to have drowned. He felt sad and alone, and his elbow hurt from the jolt of electricity he'd taken the night before. He didn't want to do this. He reached for the phone, then stopped and closed his eyes, as if he could make the whole thing go away, but on the back of his eyelids he saw the face of his mother as he had last seen her, looking up at him out of her barrel of brine, â€Å"Make the call, you pussy. If anyone knows how not to get bad news, it's you. Part of loyalty is following up, you sniveling coward. Don't be like your brothers.† Ah, sweet Mama, Clay thought. He dialed the phone – a number with a 716 area code, Tonawanda, New York. It rang three times, and the recorded operator came on, saying that the number he'd reached was not in service at this time. He checked it, then dialed the next number down, which also turned out not to be working. He called Tonawanda information for Amy's parents, and the operator told him there was no such listing. At a loss, he called Woods Hole Oceanographic Center, where Amy had gotten her master's. Clay knew one of her advisers, Marcus Loughten, an irascible Brit who had worked at Woods Hole for twenty years and was famous in the field for his work in underwater acoustics. Loughten answered on the third ring. â€Å"Loughten,† Loughten said.: â€Å"Marcus, this is Clay Demodocus. We worked together on –  » â€Å"Yes, Clay, I bloody know who you are. Calling from Hawaii, are you?† â€Å"Well, yes, I – ; â€Å"Probably, what, seventy-eight degrees with a breeze? It's seven below zero Fahrenheit here. I'm out installing bloody sound buoys in a monthlong blizzard to keep right whales from getting run over by supertankers.† â€Å"Right, the sound buoys. How are those working out?† â€Å"They're not.† â€Å"No? Why not?† â€Å"Well, right whales are stupid as shit, aren't they? It's not like a supertanker is quiet. If sound was going to deter them, then they'd be bloody well deterred by the engine noise, wouldn't they? They don't make the connection. Stupid shits.† â€Å"Oh, sorry to hear that. Uh, why keep doing it then?† â€Å"We have funding.† â€Å"Right. Look, Marcus, I need some information on one of your students who came out here to work with us. Amy Earhart? Would have been with you guys until fall of last year.† â€Å"No, I don't know that name.† â€Å"Sure you do, five-five, thin, pale, dark hair with kind of unnatural blue highlights, smart as a whip.† â€Å"Sorry, Clay. That doesn't fit any of my students.† Clay took a deep breath and trudged on. Biologists were notorious for treating their grad students as subhuman, but Clay was surprised that Loughten didn't remember Amy. She was cute, and if Clay could judge from a night of drinking he'd done with Loughten at a marine mammal conference in France, the Brit was more than a bit of a horndog. â€Å"Great ass, Marcus. You'd remember.† â€Å"I'm sure I would, but I don't.† Clay studied the resume. â€Å"What about Peter? Would he –  » â€Å"No, Clay, I know all of Peter's grad students as well. Did you call to confirm her references when you took her on?† â€Å"Well, no.† â€Å"Good work, then. Abscond with your Nikons, did she?† â€Å"No, she's missing at sea. I'm trying to contact her family.† â€Å"Sorry. Wish I could be of help. I'll check the records, just to be sure – in case I've had a ministroke that killed the part of the brain that remembers fine bottoms.† â€Å"Thanks.† â€Å"Good luck, Clay. My best to Quinn.† Clay cringed. It turned out he really wasn't up for bearing bad news. â€Å"Will do, Marcus. Good-bye.† Clay hung up and resumed staring at the phone. Well, he thought, I knew absolutely nothing about this woman that I thought I knew. Libby Quinn had already called (sobbing) to say that they should have some kind of joint service at the sanctuary for Nate and Amy, and that Clay should speak. What was he going to say about Amy? Dearly beloved, I think we all knew Amy as scientist, a colleague, a friend, a woman who showed up out of nowhere with a completely manufactured history, but I think, because she saved my life, that I came to know her better than anyone here, and I can tell you unequivocally, she was a smart aleck with a cute butt. Yeah, he'd need to work on that. Damn it, he missed them both. Clay decided to kill the day by editing video: time-eating busywork that supplied at least an imaginary escape from the real world. The afternoon found him going through the rebreather footage he'd taken on the day the whale had conked him, for the first time going past the point where he was unconscious, just to see if the camera picked up anything usable. Clay let the video run: minutes of blue water, the camera tossing around at the end of the wrist lanyard, then Amy's leg as she comes down to stop his descent. He cranked the audio. Hiss of ambient noise, then the bubbles from Amy's regulator, the slow hiss of his own breathing through the rebreather. As Amy starts to swim to the surface, the camera catches his fins hanging limply against a field of blue, then Amy's fins kicking in and out of the frame. Both their breathing is steady on the audio track. Clay looked at the time signature of the video. Fifteen minutes when the motion stops. Amy making her first decompression stop. On the audio he hears the chorus of distant singing humpbacks, a boat motor not too far off, and Amy's steady bubbles. Then the bubbles stop. The camera settles against his thigh and drifts, the lens up, catches light from the surface, then Amy's hand holding on to his buoyancy vest, reading the data off his dive computer. Her regulator is out of her mouth. On the audio there's only his breathing. The camera swings away. Ten minutes more pass. Clay listens for Amy's breathing to resume. The motion from her hooking into the rescue tank on the rebreather should move the camera, but there's just the same gentle drift. They move up. Clay guesses maybe to seventy-five feet. Amy is doing another decompression stop, doing it by the book, despite the emergency. Except he still can hear only one person breathing. She pulls him to more shallow depth. The frame lightens up, and the camera swings around, the wide angle showing Clay's unconscious form and Amy kicking, the regulator out of her mouth, looking at the surface. She hasn't used the bail-out tank on Clay's rebreather, and she hasn't taken a breath for, as far as Clay can tell, forty minutes. This can't be right. He listens, watching until the time signature shows sixty and the tape ends – the entire thing having been dubbed to the hard drive. He rewinds it on-screen, slowing down when the camera shows anything but blue, listening again. â€Å"No fucking way.† Clay backed away from the monitor, watching as the video ran out again and froze on the image of Amy holding him steady at twenty or so feet down, no regulator in her mouth. He ran out the door, calling, â€Å"Kona! Kona!† The surfer came shuffling out of his bungalow in a cloud of smoke. â€Å"Just tracking down navy spies, boss.† â€Å"Where did you guys put the rebreather? The day they took me to the hospital?† â€Å"She's in the storage shed.† Clay made a beeline for the bungalow they used to store dive and boat equipment. He waved Kona after him. â€Å"Come.† â€Å"What?† â€Å"Did you guys refill the oxygen or the bail-out tanks?† â€Å"We just rinsed it and put it in the case.† Clay pulled the big Pelican case off a stack of scuba tanks and popped the latches. The rebreather was snug in the foam padding. Clay wrenched it out onto the wooden floor and turned on the computer that was an integral part of it. He hit buttons on the display console and watched the gray liquid-crystal display cycle through the numbers. The last dive: Downtime had been seventy-five minutes, forty-three seconds. The oxygen cylinder was nearly full. The bail-out air supply was full. Full. It hadn't been touched. Somehow Amy had stayed underwater for an hour without an air supply. Clay turned to the surfer. â€Å"Do you remember anything that Nate showed you about what he was working on? I need details – I know in general.† Clay wasn't sure what he was looking for, but this had to mean something, and all he had to fall back on was Nate's research. The surfer scratched the dreadless side of his head. â€Å"Something about the whales singing binary.† â€Å"Come show me.† Clay stormed through the door and back to the office. â€Å"What you looking for?† â€Å"I don't know. Clues. Mysteries. Meaning.† â€Å"You gone lolo, you know?† CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Deep Below, Bernard Stirs About the time that Nathan Quinn had started to master his nausea in the whale ship's constant motion (four days on board), another force started working on his body. He felt an uneasiness come over him in waves, and for twenty or so seconds he would feel as if he needed to crawl out of his skin. Then it would pass and leave him feeling a little numb for a few seconds, only to start up again. Poynter and Poe were moving around the small cabin looking at different gobs and bumps of bioluminescence as if they were gleaning some meaning from them, but, try as he might, Nate couldn't figure out what they were monitoring. It would have helped to be able to get out of the seat and take a closer look, but Poynter had ordered him strapped in after he made his first break for the back orifice. He'd nearly made it, too. Had dived at it just like he'd seen the whaley boys do, except that only one arm had gone through, and he ended up stuck to the floor of the whale, his face against the rubbery skin, his hand trailing out in the cold ocean. â€Å"Well, that was phenomenally stupid,† said Poynter. â€Å"I think I've dislocated my shoulder,† Nate said. â€Å"I should leave you there. Maybe a remora or two will latch on to your hand and teach you a lesson.† â€Å"Or a cookie-cutter shark,† said Poe. â€Å"Nasty bastards.† The whaley boys turned in their seats and snickered, bobbing their heads and blowing the occasional raspberry, which could inflict considerable moisture off a four-inch-wide tongue. Evidently Quinn was a cetacean laugh riot. He'd always suspected that, actually. Poynter got down on his hands and knees and looked Nate in the eye. â€Å"While you're down there, I'd like you to think on what might have happened if you'd been successful at launching yourself through that orifice. First, we're at – Skippy, what's the depth?† Skippy chirped and clicked a number of times. â€Å"A hundred and fifty feet. Beyond the fact that you'd probably have blown out your eardrums almost immediately, you might think on how you were going to get to the surface on one breath of air. And should you have gotten to the surface, what were you going to do then? We're five hundred miles from the nearest land.† â€Å"I hadn't worked out the whole plan,† Nate said. â€Å"So, actually, I might be looking at success, right? You just wanted to test the outside water temperature?† â€Å"Sure,† said Nate, thinking it might be best to stay agreeable. â€Å"Can you feel your hand?† â€Å"It's a little chilly, but, yes.† â€Å"Oh, good.† And so they'd left him there a couple of hours, his hand and about six inches of his arm hanging out in the open sea as the whale ship swam along, and when they finally pulled him up, they put him in his seat and kept him restrained except to eat and go to the bathroom. He'd tried to relax and observe – learn what he could – but then a few minutes ago these waves of uneasiness had started hitting him. â€Å"He's got the sonic willies,† said Poe. Poynter looked away from Skippy's console. â€Å"It's the subsonics, Doc. You're feeling the sound waves even though you can't hear them. We've been communicating with the blue for about ten minutes now.† â€Å"You might have said something.† â€Å"I just did.† â€Å"Couple of hours you'll be in the blue, Doc. You can stand up again, walk around a little. Have some privacy.† â€Å"So you're communicating with it in low-frequency sound?† â€Å"Yep. Just like you thought, Doc, there was meaning in the call.† â€Å"Yeah, but I didn't think this, that there were guys, and guylike things, riding about inside whales. How in the hell can this be happening? How can I not know about this?† â€Å"So you're giving up on the being-dead strategy?† asked Poe. â€Å"What is it? Space aliens?† Poynter unbuttoned his shirt and showed some chest hair. â€Å"Do I look like a space alien?† â€Å"Well, no, but them.† Nate nodded toward the whaley boys. They looked at each other and snickered, a sort of wheezing laughter coming from their blowholes, paused, looked back at Nate, then snickered some more. â€Å"Maybe on their planet sentient life evolved from whales rather than apes,† Quinn continued. â€Å"I can see how they might have landed here, deployed these whale ships, and kept under the radar of human detection while they looked around. I mean, man obviously isn't the most peaceful of creatures.† â€Å"That work for you, Doc?† asked Poynter. â€Å"On their planet they developed an organically based technology, rather than one based on combustion and manipulation of minerals like ours.† â€Å"Oh, that is good,† said Poe. â€Å"He's on a roll,† said Poynter. â€Å"Unraveling the mystery, he is.† Skippy and Scooter nodded to each other and grinned. â€Å"So that's it? This ship is extraterrestrial?† Quinn felt the small victory rush that one gets from proving a hypothesis – even one as bizarre as space aliens riding in whale ships. â€Å"Sure,† said Poe, â€Å"that works for me. You, Cap?† â€Å"Yeah, moon men, that's what you guys are,† Poynter said to the whaley boys. â€Å"Meep,† said Scooter. And in a high, squeaky, little-girl voice, Skippy croaked, â€Å"Phone home.† The whaley boys gave each other a high four and collapsed into fits of hysterical wheezing. â€Å"What did he say?† Nate nearly snapped his neck trying to turn around against the restraints. â€Å"They can talk?† â€Å"Well, I guess, if you call that talking,† Poe said. He exchanged high fives with Poynter at the expense of the whaley boys, who paused in their own laughter to roll the whale ship in three quick spirals, which tossed the unsecured Poe and Poynter around the soft cabin like a couple of rag dolls. Poynter came up with a bloody lip from connecting with his own knee. Poe had barked his shin on one of the whaley boys' heads as he went over. Strapped in, Nate concentrated on not watching a rerun of his lunch of raw tuna and water. â€Å"Bastards!† said Poe. â€Å"That what you expected in your race of super-intelligent, space-faring extraterrestrials, Nate?† Poynter wiped blood from his lower lip and flung it at Scooter. Carl Linnaeus, an eighteenth-century Swedish doctor who specialized in the treatment of syphilis, is credited with inventing the modern system that is used for classifying plants and animals. Linnaeus is responsible for naming the humpback whale Megaptera novaeangliae, or â€Å"big wings of New England,† and later naming the blue whale Balaenoptera musculus, or â€Å"little mouse†: at 110 feet long, over a hundred tons, an animal whose tongue alone is larger than a full-grown African elephant – the largest animal to ever live on the planet. â€Å"Little mouse†? Some speculated that this ironic misnomer was perpetrated entirely to confuse Linnaeus's lab assistants, as in Run out and bring me back a â€Å"little mouse,† Sven. Others think that the pox had gone to Carl's head. Quinn was crouched over the back orifice, Skippy and Scooter holding him by either arm, Poynter and Poe crouched before him, saluting. He could feel the texture of the opening under his bare feet, like wet tire tread. â€Å"It's been a pleasure, Doc,† Poynter said. â€Å"Have a great trip.† â€Å"We'll see you back at base,† said Poe. â€Å"Now, just relax. You're barely going to contact water. Hold your nose and blow.† Quinn did. Poynter counted, â€Å"One, two –  » â€Å"Meep.† Nate was sucked out the orifice, felt a brief chill and some pressure pushing back against his ears, and found himself in a chamber only a little taller than that in the humpback, with a fairly amused woman. â€Å"You can stop blowing now,† she said. â€Å"Yet another phrase I didn't think I'd be hearing in this lifetime,† Nate said. He let go of his nostrils and took a deep breath. The air seemed fresher than in the humpback. â€Å"Welcome to my blue, Dr. Quinn, I'm Cielle Nu;ez. How do you feel?† â€Å"Pooped.† Quinn grinned. She was about his age, Hispanic with short dark hair peppered gray and wide brown eyes that caught the bioluminescence off the walls and reflected what looked like laughter. She was barefoot and wearing generic khakis like Poynter and Poe. He shook her hand. â€Å"Cute,† she said. â€Å"Come forward with me, Doctor. I'm sure it's been a while since you were able to stand up straight.† She led him down the corridor, which reminded Nate of when, as kids, he and his buddies had explored storm drains in Vancouver. It was tall enough to walk in, but not tall enough to stand in comfortably. â€Å"Actually, Cielle, I'm not a doctor. I have a Ph.D., but the doctor thing –  » â€Å"I understand. I'm captain of this rig, but if you call me ‘Captain, I'll ignore you.† â€Å"I wanted to hear the humpback sing before I left. You know, from the inside.† â€Å"You will. There'll be time.† The corridor started to widen as they moved forward, and Nate was actually able to walk normally, or as normally as one can walk when barefoot on whaleskin. This skin had a mottled appearance, whereas on the humpback it had been nearly solid gray. He noticed that on this ship there were wide veins of bioluminescence on the floor, casting a yellow light up upward that gave everything a sinister green glow. Nuà ±ez paused by what appeared to be portals on either side of them. â€Å"This is as good a place as any,† she said. â€Å"Now, turn sideways and take my hand.† Quinn did as he was asked. Her hand felt warm but dry. She was a small woman, but powerfully built, he could feel the strength in her grip. â€Å"Now, we're just going to walk as the ship moves. Don't stop until I say, or you'll fall on your ass.† â€Å"WHAT?† â€Å"Okay, Scooter, roll it.† â€Å"Scooter?† â€Å"All pilots are called Scooter or Skippy. They didn't tell you?† â€Å"They weren't very forthcoming with information.† â€Å"Humpback crews are a bunch of yahoos.† Nuà ±ez smiled. â€Å"You know the type, like navy fighter pilots topside? All ego and testosterone.† â€Å"I got more cretin than yahoo,† Nate said. â€Å"Well, with that particular bunch, yes.† The whole corridor started to move. â€Å"Here we go, step, step, step, that's good.† They were walking across the walls as the ship rolled. When they were standing on the ceiling, the roll stopped. â€Å"Nice, Scooter,† Nuà ±ez said, obviously communicating through some sort of hidden intercom. Then, to Nate, â€Å"He's so good.† â€Å"We were upside down to make the transfer?† â€Å"Exactly. You're a smart guy. Look, these are cabins. She touched a lighted node on the wall, and a skin portal folded back on itself. Again Nate was put in mind of the blowhole of a toothed whale, but it was so big, nearly four feet across, it was just†¦ unnatural. Lines of light pumped to life past the portal to reveal a small cabin, a bed – apparently made of the same skin as the rest of the interior – but also a table and a chair. Nate couldn't make out what material they might be made of, but it looked like plastic. â€Å"Bone,† Nu;ez said, noticing him noticing. â€Å"They're as much a part of the ship as the walls. All living tissue. There are shelves and cubbyholes for your stuff in the bulkheads, closed now. Obviously everything has to be stowed for little maneuvers like the one we just performed. The motion isn't as bad as on the humpbacks. You'll find you'll get used to it, and then you can move about just as if you were on land.† â€Å"You're right. I didn't even notice we were moving.† â€Å"That would be because we're not,† said Nu;ez. The sound of whaley-boy snickering wheezed down the corridor toward them. â€Å"You guys are supposed to be working,† Nu;ez said to the air. â€Å"Prepare to get under way.† She turned to Quinn. â€Å"Can I buy you a cup of joe? Maybe answer some of your questions?† â€Å"You're offering?† Quinn felt his heart jump with excitement. Information, without Poynter and Poe's goofing obfuscation? He was thrilled. â€Å"That would be fantastic.† â€Å"Don't pee all over yourself, Quinn. It's just coffee.† The corridor opened up into a large bridge. The head of the blue was huge compared to the humpback's. On either side of the entry a whaley boy stood grinning at them as they passed. They were both taller than Quinn, and unlike the Scooter and Skippy of the humpback, their skin was mottled and lighter in color. Nate paused and grinned back at them. â€Å"Let me guess – Skippy and Scooter?† â€Å"Actually, Bernard and Emily 7,† said Nu;ez. â€Å"You said they all were –  » â€Å"I said all pilots were named Skippy and Scooter.† She gestured to the front of the bridge, where two whaley boys sitting at control consoles were turning in their seats and grinning. Maybe, thought Nate, they always appeared to be grinning, much like dolphins. He'd made an amateur mistake, assuming that their facial expressions were the analog of human expressions. People often did that with dolphins, even though the animals had no facial muscles to facilitate expression. Even sad dolphins appeared to be smiling. â€Å"What are you two grinning at?† asked Nuà ±ez. â€Å"Let's get on the way.† The pilots frowned and turned back to their consoles. â€Å"Well, crap,† Nate said. â€Å"What?† â€Å"Nothing, just another theory shot in the ass.† â€Å"Yeah, this operation does that, doesn't it?† Nate felt something stirring in his back pocket and spun around to see a thin, fourteen-inch-long pink penis that was protruding from Bernard's genital slit. It waved at him. â€Å"Holy moly!† â€Å"Bernard!† Nuà ±ez snapped. â€Å"Put that away. That is not procedure.† Bernard's unit drooped noticeably from the scolding. He looked at it and chirped contritely. â€Å"Away!† Nuà ±ez barked. Bernard's willy snapped back up into his genital slit. â€Å"Sorry about that,† Nuà ±ez said to Nate. â€Å"I've never gotten used to that. It's really disconcerting when you're working with one of them and you ask them to hand you a screwdriver or something and his hands are already full. Coffee?† She led him to a small white table around which four bone chairs protruded from the floor. They looked like old-style Greek saddle chairs – no backs, organic curves, and the high gloss of living bone – but more Gaudi than Flintstone. Quinn sat while Nuà ±ez touched a node on the wall that opened a meter-wide portal that had concealed a sink, several canisters, and what looked like a percolator. Nate wondered about the electricity but forced himself to wait before asking. While Nuà ±ez prepared the coffee, Quinn looked around. The bridge was easily four times the size of the entire cabin in the humpback. Instead of riding in a minivan, it was like being in a good-size motor home – a very curvy, dimly lit motor home, but about that size. Blue light filtered in through the eyes, illuminating the pilots' faces, which shone like patent leather. Nate was starting to realize that even though everything was organic, living, the whale ship had the same sort of efficiency found on any nautical vessel: every spaced used, everything stowed against movement, everything functional. â€Å"If you need to use the head, it's back down the corridor, fourth hatch on the right.† Emily 7 clicked and squealed, and Nu;ez laughed. She had a warm laugh, not forced; it just rolled out of her smooth and easy. â€Å"Emily says it seems as if it would be more logical for the head to be in the head, but there goes logic.† â€Å"I gave up logic a few days ago.† â€Å"You don't have to give it up, just adjust. Anyway, facilities in the head are like everything on the ship – living – but I think you'll figure out the analogs pretty quickly. It's less complicated than an airliner bathroom.† Scooter chirped, and the great ship started to move, first in a fairly radical wave of motion, then smoothing out to a gentle roll. It was like being on a large sailing ship in medium seas. â€Å"Hey, a little more warning, Scooter, huh?† said Nu;ez. â€Å"I nearly dumped Nathan's coffee. Okay if I call you Nathan?† â€Å"Nate's good.† Moving with the roll of the ship, she made it back to the table and put down the two steaming mugs of coffee, then went back for a sugar bowl, spoons, and a can of condensed milk. Nate picked up the can and studied it. â€Å"This is the first thing from the outside that I've seen.† â€Å"Yeah, well, that's special request. You don't want to try whale milk in your coffee. It's like krill-flavored spray cheese.† â€Å"Yuck.† â€Å"That's what I'm saying.† â€Å"Cielle, if you don't mind my saying, you don't seem very military.† â€Å"Me? No, I wasn't. My husband and I had a sixty-foot sailboat. We got caught in a hurricane off of Costa Rica and sank. That's when they took me. My husband didn't make it.† â€Å"I'm sorry.† â€Å"It's okay. It was a long time ago. But, no, I've never been in the military.† â€Å"But the way you order the whaley boys around –  » â€Å"First, we need to clear up a misconception that you are obviously forming, Nate. I – we, the human beings on these ships – are not in charge. We're just – I don't know, like ambassadors or something. We sound like commanders because these guys would just goof off all day without someone telling them what to do, but we have no real authority. The Colonel gives the orders, and the whaley boys run the show.† Scooter and Skippy snickered like their counterparts on the humpback ship, Bernard and Emily 7 joined them – Bernard extending his prehensile willy like a party horn. â€Å"And whaley girls?† Nate nodded toward Emily 7, who grinned – it was a very big, very toothy grin, but a little coquettish in the way one might expect from, say, an ingenue with a bite that could sever an arm. â€Å"Just whaley boys. It's like the term ‘mankind, you know – alienate the female part of the race at all costs. It's the same here. Old-timers gave them the name.† â€Å"Who's the Colonel?† â€Å"He's in charge. We don't see him.† â€Å"Human, though?† â€Å"I'm told.† â€Å"You said you'd been here a long time. How long?† â€Å"Let me get you another cup, and I'll tell you what I can.† She turned. â€Å"Bernard, get that thing out of the coffeepot!†

Sky Google Earths Cosmic Feature

Stargazers have a wealth of tools at hand to assist in sky observations. One of those helpers is Google Earth, one of the most used apps on the planet. Its astronomy component is called  Google Sky, which shows the stars, planets, and galaxies as seen from Earth. The app is available for most flavors of computer operating systems and is easily accessible via a browser interface. About Google Sky Think of Google Sky on Google Earth as a virtual telescope that lets the user float through the cosmos at any pace. It can be used to view and navigate through hundreds of millions of individual stars and galaxies, explore the planets, and much more. High-resolution imagery and informative overlays create a unique playground for visualizing and learning about space. The interface and navigation are similar to that of standard Google Earth steering, including dragging, zooming, search, My Places, and layer selection.   Google Sky Layers The data on Google Sky is arranged in layers that can be used depending on where the user wants to go. The constellations layer shows the constellation patterns and their labels. For amateur stargazers, the backyard astronomy layer lets them click through a variety of placemarks and information on stars, galaxies, and nebulae visible to the eye, as well as binoculars and small telescopes. Most observers love to look at planets through their telescopes, and the Google Sky app gives them information where those objects can be found. As most astronomy fans know, many professional observatories give very detailed, high-resolution views of the cosmos. The featured observatories layer contains imagery from some of the worlds most famous and productive observatories. Included are the  Hubble Space Telescope, the Spitzer Space Telescope, the Chandra X-Ray Observatory, and many others. Each of the images is located on the star map according to its coordinates, and users can zoom into each view to get more details. Images from these observatories range across the electromagnetic spectrum and show how objects look in many wavelengths of light. For example, galaxies may be seen in both visible and infrared light, as well as ultraviolet wavelengths and radio frequencies. Each part of the spectrum reveals an otherwise hidden side of the object being studied and gives details invisible to the naked eye.   The our solar system layer contains images and data about the Sun, Moon, and planets. Images from spacecraft and ground-based observatories give users a sense of being there and include images from lunar and Mars rovers, as well as outer solar system explorers. The education center layer is popular with teachers, and contains teachable lessons about the sky, including the Users Guide to the Galaxies, plus a virtual tourism layer and the popular Life of a Star.  Finally, historical star maps provides views of the cosmos that previous generations of astronomers had using their eyes and early instruments.   To Get and Access Google Sky Getting Google Sky is as easy as a download from the  online  site. Then, once its installed, users simply look for a ​dropdown box at the top of the window that looks like a little planet with a ring around it. Its a great and free tool for astronomy learning. The virtual community shares data, images, and lesson plans, and the app can also be used in a browser.   Google Sky Particulars   Objects in Google Sky are clickable, which allows users to explore them up close or from a distance, Each click reveals data about the objects position, characteristics, history, and much more. The best way to learn the app is to click on the Touring Sky box in the left column under Welcome to Sky.   Sky was created by Googles Pittsburgh engineering team by stitching together imagery from numerous scientific third parties, including the Space Telescope Science Institute (STScI), the Sloan Digital Sky Survey (SDSS), the Digital Sky Survey Consortium (DSSC), CalTechs Palomar Observatory, the United Kingdom Astronomy Technology Centre (UK ATC), and the Anglo-Australian Observatory (AAO). The initiative was born out of the University of Washingtons participation in the Google Visiting Faculty Program. Google and its partners continually update the app with new data and images. Educators and public outreach professionals also contribute to the apps ongoing development.   Edited and updated by Carolyn Collins Petersen.

Story about Frankenstein - Free Essay Example

Sample details Pages: 4 Words: 1068 Downloads: 4 Date added: 2019/04/12 Category Literature Essay Level High school Tags: Frankenstein Essay Did you like this example? Prompt: Write a well organized essay in which you explain the allusion that predominates in the work and analyze how it enhances the works meaning. In Mary Shelleys award winning novel, Frankenstein, numerous topics were infused within the storyline in order to convey the message of one of mankinds most persistent and destructive flaws: prejudice. Within the text, Shelley used topics that ranged from sublime nature to excruciating monstrosity in order to portray this message. However, the subject that illuminated the true meaning of prejudice was that of the religion found in Frankenstein. Without the incorporation of the biblical references and comparisons to religion found within the novel, the harm that resulted from the actions and judgements of people from within the storyline would not have been as clear as they were with these allusions. Don’t waste time! Our writers will create an original "Story about Frankenstein" essay for you Create order Furthermore, religion functioned as the founding platform of the novel. Numerous topics were combined through the religious perspective that gave birth to the monster, the hatred, and the suffering within the text. It allowed the story line to connect with the beliefs of the past in order to portray the beliefs of her present and ultimately represent its impact on our future. All in pursuit of exposing the prejudice that lived and still lives within humanity. Nevertheless, Shelley indulged herself in this route in response to the Christian theology that surrounded her. Resulting in the vast number of similarities found between her narrative and the bible itself. Consequently, leading to that brief resemblance between her beliefs and the novel overall. Culminating in a miniscule portion of Shelleys convictions, and ultimately her life, being incorporated into the volume so that she may further develop her message to the world from her own point of view. In order to use her religion to shed light on the prejudice she was trying to unveil. Consequently, the influence of the religion was put into the novel through biblical references that ranged from the testaments of the bible to the infamous poem of Paradise Lost. It was brought into the story line by implying similarities between numerous characters. For example, the monster represented Adam after he was created, and Victor represented God during the creation. In addition, the monster also represented the adversary of the novel, he compared himself to Satan and conclusively realized he was the archfiend of his generation. Hence, the creature ultimately became the Lucifer of the story and stated that, Many times I considered Satan as the fitter emblem of my condition. Therefore, in further comparison to the Bible and the poem of Paradise Lost, God had originally created Satan to be good, but the the angel soon fell from the grace of his creator, and became terribly evil. Similarly to how the monster was created to be a better version of humanity, but was instead ironically rejected by humanity and his own creator from the desirable security he longed for. Both of these characters endured hardship across chaos, and both were doomed for eternity. However, even after these crucial factors, the allusions towards biblical references in the story can make it appear that the monster is more benevolent than Frankenstein, which creates a sense of fear within humanity itself , because humanity is made to consider that society is less moral than it seems. Which adds onto the purpose of these comparisons and realizations : to expose the harm and injury that results those who are altruistic and/or commit foolish actions, in order to prevent further judgements in the world. (134) Therefore, this impactful influence was used to level up the message dramatically and allow the comparisons to be seen through the same lens via countless eyes. Consequently, just as the poem brought far deeper emotions to the monster, the novel itself brought deeper understanding to its readers. For instance, once the creature had merged with his newly found knowledge, he attempted to justify himself by defining a logical relationship with his creator. Mostly through saying that, I am thy creature, and I will be even mild and docile to my natural lord and king if thou wilt also perform thy part, the which thou owest me. Which further develops the idea that the monster was profoundly influenced by these biblical stories, resulting in his own portrayal of these scenarios in order to justify his situation. Similarly to how the overall novel has influenced a vast number of individuals to stop the judgment and start the adjustment of society. (127) Thus, with this in mind, everything led to the same question. Why did Shelley generate this religious monster, this detached Christian whose faith couldnbring no hope? The answer is fairly simple. In conclusion, she wanted to expose the truth behind individuals who displayed one version of themselves to society but concealed the true version of themselves to the world. Similarly to how Frankenstein hid himself from the DeLacys, and attempted to be someone else in order to receive affection rather than atrocious misconceptions. Alike Victor that hid his creation from the people, in order to prevent agonizing judgement. Which emphasized on Shelleys need to manipulate a Christian in order to demonstrate to her readers how people tend to label themselves and/or others as something they arent due to their need to judge and/or not be judged. Simply because they have been prejudiced against by others and that harm has led them to conceal themselves with false labels. Which is why Shelley used religion to expose this truth, in order to prevent further cases like these from taking control of humanity. Furthermore, it is evident that Mary Shelleys novel is an allegory for the story of creation, or in other words, the Genesis of humanity. Shelley linked religion strongly to transgressing boundaries in order to allow all of us to remember the creatures that may dwell within us and that they are thy creature;Whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. Due to the fact that humanity involves the capacity to drive themselves to be good or bad, there will simply always be a mixture of terror and beauty within us.Though, we should never allow prejudice to conceal who we are or dethrone those who shall be, because one just has to let that natured fire within us warm us, but not burn us. Sources : Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft, 1797-1851. Frankenstein, Or, The Modern Prometheus : the 1818 Text. Oxford ; New York :Oxford University Press, 1998. Print.

Demography s Classic Transition Theory - 1464 Words

Demography s classic-transition theory furthers the modernization narrative that is central to this argument. The theory presents a three-phase timeline to explain the reproductive history of all nations. Countries begin in the pre-transition phase where high mortality and high birth rates create slow population growth, which is considered a traditional society. The second phase is the transition where slowing mortality rates and high birth rates produce raid population growth. During this stage birth rate should begin to fall if the country is actively attempting to become a modern society. In the final stage low birth rates and low mortality rates bring the population growth back to a slow or stagnant pace, which is a modern society†¦show more content†¦In contrast, the understanding of factors such as gender to be social constructed and uniquely situated in cultural contexts enables the political economy theory to explain how reproduction is constructed differently across time and space. Moreover, the anthropological foundation of the political economy theory forces such theories to account for the standard of living in its understanding of positive reproductive scenarios. A greater understanding of these theories divergent nature occurs when viewing reproductive systems under both lenses. One reproductive behavior that appears radically different when compared under both theories is the system of Birth Spacing in the Congo. Nacy Rose Hunt presents this practice in her article, Le Bebe en Brousse: European women, African Birth Spacing and Colonial Intervention in Breast Feeding in the Belgian Congo. Birth spacing was a cultural practice where women abstained from sexual intercourse for two or three years while they were breast-feeding (Hunt 1988: 404). This practice aided maternal and infant health and was widely practiced before colonial domination (Hunt 1988: 401). However, the practice lessened under colonial occupation and created an increase i n population growth. Under the political economy framework the effect of colonialism and its pro-natalist values best explains the

Succubus Revealed Chapter 14 Free Essays

Seth shot up from the chair, face filled with hurt and fury. It was surreal. For a moment, he looked like a stranger . We will write a custom essay sample on Succubus Revealed Chapter 14 or any similar topic only for you Order Now . . and yet, he also looked like everyone I’d ever known. Everyone I’d loved. Everyone I’d hurt. â€Å"You,† he exclaimed, striding toward me. â€Å"How could you do that to me? How could you do that to me?† I had never heard Seth yell like that. I cringed against my chair, too stunned to react. Meanwhile, Hugh seemed to come to life. He had been as shocked by Seth’s initial reaction as me, particularly since Hugh understood even less than I did about what was going on. He was still undoubtedly confused, but some instinct spurred him to action when he saw Seth advance. I didn’t think Seth would’ve hurt me, but he was kind of scary just then. Hugh grabbed a hold of Seth’s arm. â€Å"Whoa, whoa,† said Hugh. â€Å"Easy there. Everyone calm down.† Roman likewise seemed to suddenly realize something was wrong here. He’d been so excited by the developments, his face aglow as all his theories fell into place. Now events were moving in a direction he hadn’t foreseen. He rose, mirroring Hugh’s fighter’s stance. Only, Roman was doing it defensively, coming to stand in front of me, in case Seth broke Hugh’s hold. That didn’t seem very likely. The imp was strong. â€Å"How could you do that to me?† repeated Seth, voice still roaring with fury. â€Å"I trusted you! I trusted you and I loved you!† I had witnessed all of this unfolding but hadn’t dared allow myself to really and truly accept it. I had seen the impossible. I had seen Seth relive the lives of men he hadn’t known – men he couldn’t have known – walking back through the centuries of my long existence. Some voice inside of me kept saying, No, no, this isn’t happening. This can’t be real. It’s some trick of Hell’s. I was working hard not to process what I’d heard because processing it meant accepting it. But with those last words, Seth penetrated something inside of my numb self. He broke through, and I snapped. â€Å"I didn’t! I didn’t do anything to you!† I cried. I had to peer around Roman to meet Seth’s eyes and almost wished I hadn’t. They were cold. So terribly cold and hurt. â€Å"You cheated on me,† said Seth, straining against Hugh. â€Å"Cheated on me with my best friend. . . .† Yet, even as he spoke, I could see him falter. The feelings he’d felt as Kyriakos were real, but he was examining it now as Seth Mortensen. The mixed realities were confusing him. It was understandable. They confused me. â€Å"Seth,† I said desperately. â€Å"I didn’t do that to you. Think about it. I love you. I love you so much.† Seth stopped struggling, though Hugh didn’t relinquish his grip. Seth’s features were still filled with hurt and confusion. â€Å"Not to me . . . to him. But I am him. I’m all of them.† Seth closed his eyes and took a deep breath. What had been reasonable and clear under hypnosis was becoming more difficult to grasp. â€Å"How? How is that possible?† â€Å"Past lives,† said Roman. â€Å"You’re right. You were all of them. You lived all of those lives, long before you were born into this one.† â€Å"Reincarnation? That . . . that’s impossible,† said Seth. â€Å"Is it?† asked Roman, regaining some of his confidence now that the situation was no longer escalating. â€Å"How do you know? Do you have a direct line into the way the universe works?† â€Å"So, wait . . . what about you guys?† asked Seth. â€Å"Are Heaven and Hell not real?† â€Å"Oh,† said Hugh wryly, â€Å"they’re real.† â€Å"All of it is real,† said Roman. â€Å"And vastly more complex than any faulty human system can understand.† He turned to me, expression softening. I must have looked terrified. â€Å"What Seth saw . . . what he lived through. You knew all of them, didn’t you? All of those identities?† I focused on Roman, afraid I’d lose my nerve if I looked at Seth again. I nodded. â€Å"Yes . . . they were all people . . . all men I knew in my life.† Hugh frowned. â€Å"How is that possible? I can get on board with reincarnation. I’ve seen enough to believe it can happen. But him always being reborn around you? You running into him – what was it, ten times? That’s statistically impossible.† â€Å"The things we’re dealing with aren’t really governed by statistics and probability,† said Roman. â€Å"There are other forces at work here, forces that guide his rebirth. It was part of his contract, the deal you made as Kyriakos. What can you tell us about it?† â€Å"I don’t know what you’re talking about. . . . I don’t remember . . . I . . .† Seth shook his head, the anger returning. â€Å"I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Let me go. I need to get out of here. I need to get away from her!† â€Å"Seth . . .† I said. â€Å"But you’re the key!† exclaimed Roman. â€Å"The key to unlocking Georgina’s problems. You’re the other contract, the one Erik was talking about. You’re tied to her, tied to everything that’s been going on with her.† â€Å"I don’t care,† said Seth. He seemed to just barely be able to keep his emotions in check. â€Å"I don’t care about your various and sundry plots! Do you have any idea what I just saw? What I just went through? I’m still not even sure I understand any of it! I don’t understand who I am! All I know is her – and what she did to me.† â€Å"Seth,† I tried again. Or should I address him as Kyriakos? I didn’t know. â€Å"Please . . . I love you. I’ve always loved you. What happened . . . it was . . . it was an accident. . . .† The look Seth gave me was dark and wary. â€Å"It sure didn’t seem like an accident when I walked in on you.† â€Å"I never meant to . . .† â€Å"To rip my heart out?† he cried. â€Å"To destroy my world? My life?† â€Å"Roman,† said Hugh carefully. â€Å"Maybe we should give him some time to process this.† â€Å"We don’t have time,† said Roman. â€Å"Hell can move fast – especially if they find out what we know. If we’re going to save Georgina – â€Å" â€Å"I don’t care!† said Seth again, this time with more vehemence. â€Å"I don’t care what happens to any of you, and I certainly don’t care about what happens to her. It’s probably less than she deserves.† â€Å"She didn’t do anything to you,† said Roman. â€Å"She’s been a pretty solid girlfriend, from what I’ve seen.† â€Å"Seth,† I pleaded, knowing Roman wasn’t quite getting it yet. â€Å"I . . . I’m sorry. It was a long time ago.† My words were terribly, terribly inadequate, but Seth was tapping into things I’d forced myself to block out – because they were too painful. â€Å"For you, maybe,† said Seth. â€Å"It happened over the course of centuries. One life for you. But for me . . . whatever you guys did with the hypnosis, it’s all here now. All of those lives . . . those memories. Here in my head at the same time. It didn’t happen ‘a long time ago’ for me. It’s like it just happened yesterday! All those feelings, all that pain . . .† â€Å"It’ll fade,† said Hugh, not sounding as though he was certain. â€Å"What you regressed through is still fresh, and you weren’t brought out of the trance properly. Give it time. Or . . . if you want, I can put you back under and make you forget this.† â€Å"And forget her?† demanded Seth. â€Å"So I can forget what a faithless, conniving bitch she’s been to me?† â€Å"Seth . . .† I could feel tears forming in my eyes. â€Å"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. If I could take it back, I would.† â€Å"Which part?† he asked. â€Å"The part where you proved our marriage meant nothing to you? Or the countless other times you lied to me and broke my heart? Do you have any idea how I feel? What it feels like to be experiencing all of that at the same time? Maybe you’ve moved past it all and don’t care anymore, but it’s real for me!† â€Å"It is for me too. I . . . I love you.† They were the only words I managed to get out, and they still weren’t enough. Where was all my usual glib charm? My ability to talk my way out of anything? I was still too choked up on my emotions, still reeling from the fact that looking into Seth’s eyes meant looking into the eyes of every man I’d ever loved. I wanted to convince him how sorry I was and explain that having a long life hadn’t dulled the feelings inside me. If anything, it had only provided more time for those feelings to sink in and punish me. I wanted to explain to him how I’d felt during that first transgression and how it had been a poor reaction to feelings I didn’t know how to process as a scared young woman. I wanted to explain that most of my actions since then, especially the times I’d pushed away other lovers, had been weak attempts at protecting them. There was so much I wanted to say, but I just didn’t have the words – or courage – to get any of it out. So, I remained silent, and the tears spilled out of my eyes. Seth took a deep breath, forcing. â€Å"Let me go, Hugh. I won’t hurt her. I don’t want anything to do with her. I just want to go home. I need to get out of here.† â€Å"Don’t,† said Roman. â€Å"We need him. We need more answers, so that we can understand the contracts.† â€Å"Hugh, let him go.† I barely recognized the voice as my own. Roman looked at me incredulously. â€Å"We need him,† he repeated. â€Å"He’s done enough,† I said flatly. In my head, Seth’s words echoed: I don’t want anything to do with her. â€Å"We’ve done enough to him.† When nobody reacted, I met Hugh’s gaze squarely. â€Å"Do it. Let him go.† Hugh glanced between Roman and me and then made a decision. Still keeping hold of Seth’s arm, Hugh steered him away from us and walked him to the door. Roman made more protests and took a few steps toward them, but I remained frozen where I was. I didn’t look behind me, not even when I heard the door slam. Hugh returned, and Roman slumped back into his chair, sighing with frustration. â€Å"Well,† he said. â€Å"Once he calms down, we’ll get him back and talk things out.† â€Å"I don’t think he’s going to calm down,† I said, staring off at nothing. I don’t want anything to do with her. â€Å"He’s just in shock,† said Roman. I didn’t answer. Roman didn’t know. Roman didn’t understand the full scope of our history together. He hadn’t seen Kyriakos’s face after my betrayal, the grief that had been so deep it had nearly driven him to suicide. That was part of why I’d become a succubus, using my soul to purchase peace for him in the form of forgetfulness. It was the only way to save him. But if he remembered everything now, if he really was Kyriakos reborn . . . then, no. He wasn’t â€Å"just in shock.† I had done a terrible, terrible thing to him, and his outrage wasn’t unfounded. A shiver ran through me as I thought about the instant connection I’d had with Seth, the feeling like I’d always known him. It was because I had always known him. Life after life. I’d always felt like we were bound into something greater than ourselves . . . and we were. Something great and terrible. Hugh dragged up a chair and sat across from me. He caught hold of one of my hands. â€Å"Sweetie, I swear to you, I had no clue any of that would happen.† I gave him a halfhearted squeeze back. â€Å"What . . . what did you think would happen?† Hugh glanced at Roman. â€Å"He asked me if I could hypnotize Seth and attempt some past life regression. I had no idea what it was for. Fuck, I had no idea it would really work, let alone walk us through nine emotionally damaged lives. Ten, since we now seemed to have fucked up this one.† I felt hollow inside, hollow and aching. I turned to Roman, astonished I could manage any sort of reasonable discussion when my world had just been destroyed. â€Å"How did you know it would happen? How did you figure all of this out?† â€Å"I only figured some of it out,† said Roman. â€Å"It was actually your stupid Santa stuff that tipped me off. About how that guy was worried about Santa being in two places at once?† He scoffed and raked a hand through his hair. â€Å"I started thinking about how everyone says your contract is fine and how Erik had mentioned a second contract. We’d already deduced Hell wanted you and Seth apart, but why? And I thought, what if it’s like the Santa thing? There’s nothing wrong with your contract or Seth’s in and of themselves, but together, something goes wrong.† â€Å"How did you even know Seth had a contract?† asked Hugh. â€Å"Well, that’s the thing. I didn’t. And since Seth had never mentioned it before, it seemed he didn’t know he had one either. And how could that be? I started thinking maybe it was because he hadn’t made the contract in this life. I thought maybe Hell had a long game going on with him across lives, and hence . . . the hypnosis.† â€Å"Jesus Christ,† said Hugh, shaking his head. â€Å"You made a fuckload of deductions there.† â€Å"And they were right,† said Roman. â€Å"Georgina and Seth both have contracts with Hell. And those contracts don’t work together.† â€Å"Why not?† I asked. That zealous gleam was back in Roman’s eye. â€Å"What were we able to deduce about Seth’s contract? What did he get?† The only thing I’d deduced was that Seth was never going to speak to me again. When I refused to answer, Hugh obligingly played student to Roman’s teacher. â€Å"He got ten lives instead of one. The gift of reincarnation.† â€Å"Why?† asked Roman. â€Å"To find Georgina,† said Hugh. He paused, and I guessed he was replaying what Seth had described. â€Å"It sounds like he died in that first life, and when the time came for his soul to move on, he was aware of missing her. I’m guessing Hell wouldn’t have gotten his soul then, so they made the deal to give him nine more chances to find Georgina and be reunited with her.† â€Å"He did find me,† I said flatly. â€Å"Over and over.† Betrayal after betrayal. â€Å"Yes,† said Roman. â€Å"And you were drawn to him without even realizing it. He certainly seemed to fit your dreamy artistic type each time. But you never made it work out.† â€Å"Which Hell was probably hoping for,† said Hugh. The imp in him was coming out, puzzling over how a contract like this would have been designed. â€Å"Hell has to be fair, but they always want an advantage. So, they probably went into the deal thinking a guy hoping to make amends with his soul mate could never do it if she was a succubus. Seth – or whoever – certainly didn’t know that. He only knew that he was supposed to have forgotten her.† He thought about it a few moments more. â€Å"There’s nothing wrong with that, though. That’s hedging your bets on a contract. There’s no violation.† â€Å"You’re right,† said Roman. â€Å"And that’s not the problem.† He focused back on me. â€Å"What was your deal? What was your contract for becoming a succubus?† â€Å"You already know it,† I said wearily. I was tired of the scheming and fallout. I want to crawl off, curl up in my bed, and sleep for the next five centuries. I wanted to renegotiate my contract and have my memory and heart purged of all pain. â€Å"Humor me,† he said. â€Å"Just tell me the basics again. The deal Niphon made with you.† â€Å"Roman, leave her alone,† said Hugh. I waved him off. â€Å"Fine. I sold my soul and became a succubus in exchange for everyone I knew as a mortal forgetting about me.† Roman looked so supremely satisfied and triumphant that I wanted to punch him just then. He nodded to Hugh. â€Å"And tell me Seth’s again, to the best of your guessing.† â€Å"At a guess? He gets to live ten lives, all of which will put him near her, giving him the chance to find her and make amends with her. Hell gets his soul at the end of the tenth life.† â€Å"And why did Seth make the deal?† prompted Roman, practically trembling with excitement. â€Å"Because he remembered that – † Hugh cut himself off, eyes widening. â€Å"Exactly,† said Roman. He shook me in his excitement when I didn’t react right away. â€Å"Don’t you get it? Your contracts contradict each other! In fact, Seth’s should never have even been written! He remembered you. He knew that you were gone from his life.† â€Å"He knew his ‘soul mate’ was gone,† I said bitterly. â€Å"I don’t think he remembered specifics. You saw how much trouble he had.† Roman shook his head. â€Å"Doesn’t matter. I’m guessing your contract specifies forgetting you entirely. He remembered. By that happening, Hell violated your contract. Then, they wrote an impossible contract for him, claiming he’d have the chance to reunite with you – which again, implies a degree of remembering you.† â€Å"We don’t know that exactly,† warned Hugh. â€Å"We haven’t seen the contract and didn’t get all the details from him. I couldn’t follow if he got anything for patching things up with her or not.† â€Å"We know enough,† said Roman. â€Å"Seth wanted to be reunited with her and make amends. For that to happen, it would contradict Georgina’s contract – specifying he forget her.† â€Å"I’d want to see the wording,† said Hugh. â€Å"I’m not trying to dash your hopes. I just know how these things work.† â€Å"Fair enough,† said Roman. â€Å"But can you deny that when Seth called her ‘Letha’ last month, that was most definitely in violation of her contract? He remembered. Not consciously. But some part of him, deep inside, remembered her.† My thoughts were still moving sluggishly, but something clicked into place. â€Å"The transfer . . . the transfer came through the morning after I told Jerome about Seth calling me Letha.† â€Å"Yes,† said Roman. â€Å"That’s why things were mucked up with it. I guarantee my dear father has always known about your contracts and has accepted them grudgingly, especially if Seth’s contract allows for you two to keep running into each other. But, when you told the gang about the name, Jerome had a serious problem. He recognized the violation and tattled to his superiors as fast as he could, making them panic and act quickly – too quickly – to get you out of here.† â€Å"But . . . it already happened. Seth remembered. The violation took place,† I said, scarcely able to believe it. â€Å"It’s like a tree in the woods,† remarked Hugh. â€Å"It only happens if they’re called on it. Neither you nor Seth would have known about the contracts or any violation. You were oblivious. Jerome needed to keep it that way, get you guys apart and kill any chance of you figuring out what had happened.† â€Å"Hence the Vegas dream job,† said Roman. â€Å"It’s like we talked about before. Forbidding you guys to be together would’ve drawn too much attention. A run-of-the-mill transfer, however, would’ve seemed like business as usual – if not for the screwup. Hell was so anxious to get it going that they sent you the memo before Jerome had a chance to meet with you. I guarantee everything you saw in Vegas was thrown together on a day’s notice.† I drew my hand back from Hugh’s and buried my face in my palm. â€Å"Oh God.† Roman patted my shoulder in a way that was probably supposed to be comforting but mostly made me grit my teeth. â€Å"God’s not the one you’ve got to look to right now. Do you realize what you’ve got here, Georgina? A once in a millennium opportunity to thwart Hell! You can challenge them, call your contract into dispute. And Seth’s. All you need to do is talk to him, get the exact details of – â€Å" I jumped up from my chair, finally giving way to all my own grief and fury. â€Å"No! Didn’t you see his face? Didn’t you hear him? He won’t talk to me! Not now, not ever. And don’t say he’s just in shock again,† I warned, seeing Roman about to speak. â€Å"You don’t know what I did, what it was like for him . . . back then. There’s a reason I made him forget! He’s not going to forgive me for this. Never. He didn’t then and isn’t going to now. Oh Lord. Why did we have to do this? Why did we have to make him remember? We should’ve just let him forget. . . . Everything was fine. . . .† My frantic pacing led me over to the living room window, where I drew back the curtains. It was late in the day now, the sunset turning the clouds orange. â€Å"Fine?† asked Roman, coming to stand beside me. â€Å"Hell was creating elaborate ploys to separate you and cover their asses! And they were killing his sister-in-law to do it. That is not fine. You and Seth have done nothing but play into Hell’s hands all these centuries. Over and over, you find each other and lose each other, you bicker and fight, throw it all away on mistrust and lack of communication. Are you going to let that continue? Especially when they didn’t even give you what you were promised?† I rested my cheek against the glass, taking comfort in the coolness, refusing to listen to Roman’s logic. â€Å"But Seth didn’t remember until we made him.† â€Å"Not true. He remembered before that,† said Roman. â€Å"On his own, when he called you Letha. That’s how this all started. Nothing we did here changed that.† â€Å"He hates me,† I said, fully aware of how whiny I sounded. Roman didn’t try to deny it. â€Å"People forgive.† I scoffed. â€Å"Do they?† â€Å"They do,† said Hugh, coming to stand on my other side. â€Å"Seth must have – or whomever he used to be. Your husband. Why else would he have made that bargain in the first place to find you?† â€Å"Because he didn’t remember what I’d done,† I said. I met Hugh’s eyes. â€Å"He only knew that I was missing from his life.† â€Å"You answered your own question, sweetie. His love for you was stronger than his hate, if he was able to remember the one and not the other.† I wanted to argue with that but didn’t know how. â€Å"I can’t . . . I can’t face him. You don’t know what this is like. It’s . . .† My lifelong fear? My greatest sin? â€Å"I just can’t.† â€Å"We need to know about the rest of his contract,† said Roman. â€Å"We need all the details if we’re going to see this through.† Hugh sniffed. â€Å"You keep saying ‘we,’ but somehow I don’t see you being the one filing the paperwork with Hell to challenge her contract.† When Roman didn’t answer, Hugh added, â€Å"Which, by my estimate, we don’t need any more of Seth’s information for. We already have enough to question her contract’s integrity.† â€Å"Question its integrity?† exclaimed Roman. â€Å"We have enough evidence to blow it wide open.† There was that metaphor again. Roman loved the dramatic. â€Å"Hell failed to hold up their end of the bargain. They told you they’d make everyone forget. Obviously, they didn’t.† â€Å"It may not be quite that simple. Hell will question what you call evidence,† said Hugh. â€Å"But it can be done, right?† asked Roman. â€Å"You know how to do it – to file the necessary paperwork?† â€Å"Well, I’ve never done it before,† said Hugh. â€Å"Jesus. I don’t know anyone who’s done it.† I dragged my gaze from the window. â€Å"Don’t,† I told Hugh. â€Å"It’s not worth it. You don’t know anyone who’s done it because no imp who values his job or his life would ever try to get a contract revoked. I don’t want you doing that for me.† â€Å"Hugh,† said Roman, looking over me like I wasn’t even there. â€Å"You could free her. You could get her soul back for her. You could end this life she has – sleeping with strangers for eternity.† â€Å"Stop it,† I snapped. â€Å"Stop trying to guilt him into it. I made this choice. No one tricked me into being a succubus. They told me what it entailed and what I’d get.† â€Å"And you didn’t get it,† said Hugh quietly. â€Å"It doesn’t matter,† I said. If I didn’t have Seth, one form of Hell was as bad as another. â€Å"I would do it for you,† said Hugh. â€Å"I’ll file the paperwork. Maybe you knew what you were getting into, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have the right to change your mind – especially if you were played. If you want it, I’ll help you do it.† â€Å"Why?† I asked, recalling all the times Hugh had become uneasy whenever we’d talked of challenging the status quo. â€Å"Why would you risk it?† â€Å"Because you’re my friend,† Hugh said, his lips twisting into a bitter half smile. â€Å"And that still means something to me. Besides, give your pal Hugh some credit here. I might be able to pull this off with minimal punishment for myself.† A strange feeling welled within my chest, tight at first and then loosening. This day had become one impossible thing after another. Somehow, hearing Hugh say it made it more real. I was so used to Roman’s ideas and dreams for undermining Hell that at times, it was easy to ignore them. But to hear Hugh saying this might actually work . . . I swallowed, feeling more tears were on the way. â€Å"I can’t even imagine that. A world where I don’t belong to Hell. I don’t know what my life would look like.† â€Å"Like anything you want it to,† said Hugh, wrapping me in a hug. Behind me, I heard Roman sigh. â€Å"Well. I’ll settle for one contract blowing up in Hell’s face. I mean, Seth was already Hell-bound anyways, wasn’t he? With or without any of this?† I winced. It was true. Seth’s soul – once so bright and shining – had darkened when he cheated on Maddie with me. He’d come to my bed out of love but had still felt guilty over what he’d done. The mark of sin had tainted his soul enough that were he to die right now, Seth would go to Hell. Hugh cleared his throat and let go of me, suddenly looking uncomfortable. â€Å"It’s funny you mention that. . . .† â€Å"Why?† I asked. â€Å"I hadn’t seen him in a while and nearly didn’t notice . . . but today when he was here, his soul . . .† Hugh shook his head. â€Å"I don’t know what all he’s done, but it’s lightened. It’s not the spotlight it used to be, but something’s changed. Enough of the taint’s gone now that I don’t think he’s marked for Hell anymore.† â€Å"Except, he is because of his contract,† I realized. â€Å"That was the price for all those lives. It doesn’t matter how good he is.† I felt my legs grow weak again and had to struggle to stay up. Seth had redeemed himself for his sin. How? Probably through the sacrifices he’d made for his family. He’d given up the things he loved most for them – writing, even me. It was a remarkable feat, something few humans were able to rebound from. Usually, those who were damned stayed damned. But it didn’t matter. Seth’s soul could shine like a supernova and he would still go to Hell, because it was the same soul he’d had as Kyriakos, the one that had made the bargain to come and find me. â€Å"We don’t know for sure,† I said. â€Å"He didn’t make it clear if he definitely signed his soul over or if there was a wager, like he’d get to keep it if he made amends with me.† â€Å"Which doesn’t really seem like it’s going to happen at the moment,† said Roman. â€Å"So either way, he’s damned.† â€Å"Unless we can break his contract too,† I said. â€Å"And we need his help for it.† Hugh gave me a sympathetic look. â€Å"Do you want me to try to talk to him?† I had hated myself for what I’d done to Kyriakos all those years ago, hated myself so much that I’d paid the ultimate price to be wiped from his memory. And after seeing the look in Seth’s eyes earlier . . . well, honestly, if given the chance, I might very well have asked to be erased again. I couldn’t stand seeing that hate, that disappointment in the eyes of someone I’d loved. I’d hurt him. I’d let him down. I wanted to hide and never see him again because if I faced him, I would have to face the failings within myself. That had always been a problem for me, I realized. I hated confrontation – especially when I was the one at fault. I’d continually run away from that my entire life. I forced a weak smile for Hugh, who stood there offering me a cowardly way out. No, I decided. If we were going to get Seth’s help, it would be better coming from me. Would he talk to me? I didn’t know, but I had to try. For nothing else would I have risked facing that hate and sorrow again . . . but for Seth’s soul, I would. â€Å"I’ll go to him,† I said. How to cite Succubus Revealed Chapter 14, Essay examples