Dead, dead. Hard to get much deader. His ribs splinter like a busted piano. Armor's rotting, what's left of it: There are scavengers, even this deep; there's a hurlock somewhere wearing his breastplate, else melted down to their strange slag shapes.
Bones score with the marks of scattered black teeth. His face, hair, are little more than sludge. He's dead. He's been dead a long time.
But someone's been here, new enough to pick the shield out clean, and lay it over his legs. To arrange the remains of an arm at his side. Sign of respect. Means something, when Surfacers come down here to die. And Hansen, he was known.
Vance stoops up, smearing ichor from his gloves. Doesn't matter how long it's been. Tainted bodies go a bit — runny.
"You want a moment?"
Of quiet, maybe. Can't grant her any distance. They're in the thick of it here; and if he gets a Mortalitasi killed, that's a whole diplomatic incident.
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mr hansen if ur nasty;
Dead, dead. Hard to get much deader. His ribs splinter like a busted piano. Armor's rotting, what's left of it: There are scavengers, even this deep; there's a hurlock somewhere wearing his breastplate, else melted down to their strange slag shapes.
Bones score with the marks of scattered black teeth. His face, hair, are little more than sludge. He's dead. He's been dead a long time.
But someone's been here, new enough to pick the shield out clean, and lay it over his legs. To arrange the remains of an arm at his side. Sign of respect. Means something, when Surfacers come down here to die. And Hansen, he was known.
Vance stoops up, smearing ichor from his gloves. Doesn't matter how long it's been. Tainted bodies go a bit — runny.
"You want a moment?"
Of quiet, maybe. Can't grant her any distance. They're in the thick of it here; and if he gets a Mortalitasi killed, that's a whole diplomatic incident.