（外文电子版资料）Barry N. Malzberg - Le Croix.pdfVIP

Le Croix by Barry Malzberg Copyright ©1980 by Barry N. Malzberg Depersonalization takes over. As usual, he does not quite feel himself, which is for the best; the man that he knows could hardly manage these embarrassing circumstances. Adaptability, that is the key; swim in the fast waters. There is no other way that he, let alone I could get through. “Pardonnez tout ils,” he says, feeling himself twirling upon the crucifix in the absent Roman breezes, a sensation not unlike flight, “mais ils ne comprendre pas que ils fait.” Oh my, is that awful. He wishes that he could do better than that. Still, there is no one around, strictly speaking, to criticize and besides, he is merely following impulse which is the purpose of the program. Do what you will. “Ah pere, this is a bitch,” he mutters. The thief on his left, an utterly untrustworthy type, murmurs foreign curses, not in French, to the other thief; and the man, losing patience with his companions who certainly look as culpable as all hell, stares below. Casting his glance far down he can see the onlookers, not so many as one would think, far less than the texts would indicate but certainly enough (fair is fair and simple Mark had made an effort to get it right) to cast lots over his vestments. They should be starting that stuff just about now. Ah, well. This too shall pass. He considers the sky, noting with interest that the formation of clouds against the dazzling sunlight must yield the aspect of stigmata. For everything a natural, logical explanation. It is a rational world back here after all. If a little on the monolithic side. “I wonder how long this is going to go on,” he says to make conversation. “it does seem to be taking a bloody long time.” “Long time?” the thief on the left says. “Until we die, thats how long, and not an instant sooner. Its easier,” the thief says confidentially, “if you breathe in tight little gasps. Less pain. Youre kind of grabbing for the air