Memoranda (28 page)

“Doctor,” I said, the hair on the back of my neck rising, my pulse quickening, “how are you here?”

“Nothing in the memory is ever really destroyed unless the mind that contains it is destroyed. I have suffered a mild erasure through a willful act of forgetting, but Below can't eradicate me completely. Traces of me will exist as long as he does.”

The sight of him back from the dead brought tears to my eyes. I could barely continue in the face of this new assault on my reason. “I have been through too much,” I said to him.

“Listen, Cley. She is losing energy now that she is away from the island. We were designed as complex memory markers. You will lose her unless you do something.”

“What? I'll do anything,” I said.

“Go to the ruins of the city and find the book,” he said. “Destroy the page as Scarfinati instructed.”

“How do you know about Scarfinati?” I asked.

“I now have all the knowledge of one who has died,” he said.

“But where do I go?” I asked.

“You must hurry,” he said. “I will wait with her, but I can't remain for too long. My being here requires great effort. You must go—
now.
”

Anotine then opened her eyes. “Doctor,” she said weakly.

He smiled at her.

I walked over and knelt down. “I am going to leave you for a short time,” I said. “Do you understand?”

“Don't go, Cley. Stay with me,” she said, a look of panic in her eyes.

“I'll only be gone for a very brief time. I have to do something that will make you feel better.”

“Promise you will come back,” she said.

“I promise,” I told her. I reached into my shirt pocket and pulled out the balled-up green veil. Reaching down, I put it into her hand. “Keep this for me until I return. This is my promise to you.”

Her hand weakly grasped the veil, as I leaned over and kissed her. Before I could pull my head up, she put her arms around my neck and pulled me gently down again. I could feel her breath on my ear. “I believe in you,” she whispered.

“You must leave,” said the doctor. “Hurry.”

I stood and began running along the path. When I reached the first turn, I looked back at the scene of Anotine lying there with the shimmering form beside her. She seemed to once again be asleep and, just as he had appeared in the silver ocean's tableau, keeping vigil next to Below's failing sister, the doctor's hand rested upon his beard.

The journey along the convoluted path to where the fields of Harakun came into view could have lasted minutes or hours. My panicked concern for Anotine, my astonishment at the sudden appearance of the doctor, the overwhelming uncertainty and weirdness of everything, boiled madly in a stew liberally seasoned with sheer beauty. I couldn't think clearly as to what my purpose was. All I could remember is that I had to get to the ruins.

I left the path, passing over a fallen tree and through some underbrush which eventually gave way to the barren plain. My very first thought upon setting foot amidst the dry dirt and saw grass was, “What about the werewolves?” I had traveled an enormous circle only to return to where I had begun. The whole exercise seemed futile at that point, but if I didn't continue, what else was I to do? “Damn the werewolves,” I thought, and took off toward the ruins in the distance at a pace that was more a stumble than a run.

The sun was still high and the heat was intense out in the open. I perspired past the point of sweating and felt myself beginning to parch. The soles of my feet burned in my boots, and my tongue had turned to cotton. The breezes were both a blessing and a curse, for although they were my only respite from the heat, they also made the saw grass shift, and then I thought werewolves were on the move.

Needless to say, the running did not last long, having early on given way to simple stumbling. I kept my sight fixed on the shattered column that was the Top of the City and advanced as best I could. The whole city wavered in a liquid mirage, making it appear a lost kingdom sunk into the sea. I swam through the heat with the determination of a salmon moving upstream, and finally, after hours, I walked headlong into a portion of the fractured circular wall and bounced back onto my rear end.

Following the wall around, I found a place where there was a gaping hole and entered the ruins. I laughed out loud at my success as I moved into the shadows of the rubble to rest and cool off. The beauty had long been sweated out of me, as had all my fear and confusion. I knew now I had to find the book and find it quickly. There was no time to delay, since the afternoon would soon begin to turn to night. I had promised Anotine I would return, and that is what I intended to do.

When I felt that some of my strength had returned, I left my hiding place and started up a street that I knew would lead me to that part of the city where Below's lab had been located in the ruins of my reality. I hadn't even taken twenty steps before I heard behind me an odd sound, something lightly tapping on the coral pavement. Before I turned, the smell had already permeated the air. There was the sound of growling. Greta Sykes, I thought, and saw in my mind's eye the lean, savage figure of the wolf-girl: silver fur, head studded with metal bolts, and, burning in her eyes, the desire to tear my heart out.

28

Greta rose up on her back legs in order to lead me through the remains of the city as her prisoner. She walked behind me and a step to the left, slightly hunched, the tips of her long claws resting on the back of my neck. I could tell from the sounds she was making, beastly guttural rumblings, that it was a great effort for her not to kill me. I remained silent and followed the direction her claws dictated. At any other time I might have been unable to walk from fear, but in this instance there was something I feared far more than death. I had to get the memory book, and I knew she was leading me directly to it.

When we arrived at the laboratory, she shoved me through the entrance, and I tripped and fell to my knees. Looking up, I saw that the place was almost exactly as it had been when I visited it with Misrix to search for the antidote. The only difference now was that everything was intact, the glassware was unbroken, holding the various colored powders and liquids that, upon my previous visit in the other world, had been strewn across the floor and walls. The lighthouse contraption that projected intermittently the images of birds was there as was the operating table and metallic chair. Nests of wiring lined the ceiling, and, over the edge of one of the tables, I could see a stern female face framed by wild hair, staring down at me from where it floated within a huge glass jar.

Then a hand came into view, and I heard Below laughing. He helped me to my feet. “Wonder of wonders,” he said. “If it isn't the physiognomist.”

“Master,” I said out of habit, and nodded. Although he had lost much of his hair on top and had shrunk in stature somewhat from the days when the city was in one piece, he appeared quite vital, and his face, I dare say, might have looked younger than mine at the moment.

“I knew you would come back someday, Cley. I imagine life out there in shantytown must be a little tedious.”

“Not at all,” I said.

“As you can see,” he said, “I've been keeping myself busy.” He turned and swept his arm in a gesture that directed my attention around the lab.

“You always were a busy fellow,” I said.

He looked sternly at me for a moment, then broke into laughter. “I'm a family man now, Cley,” he said.

“You don't say.”

“I thought you would be more surprised,” he said, looking somewhat disappointed.

“I'm here for a reason,” I said.

“Well, it's good to see you,” he said. “I'm glad you came. Come, we'll go to my quarters, where we can talk.”

I followed him out of the lab and around the corner of the building. Behind the structure, in a lot cleared of the ubiquitous rubble of the city, we passed a row of ten large cages, each containing a man. Upon seeing us, the occupants cried out to be released in the most pathetic voices. I noticed that the two at the end of the row were not men at all but had begun some process that was transforming them into werewolves.

“Silence, gentlemen,” said Below to his prisoners. “Who needs a visit to the metal chair?”

His words made them cease their groaning as they cowered away from the doors of their cages.

“What is this atrocity?” I asked.

“Now, now, Cley,” he said. “These men came to my city with the express purpose of robbing me. They are criminals. I'm helping them to become useful.”

“What have you done to those two on the end?” I asked.

“Well, that's the way they are all headed. Greta needs some playmates. What better way to protect my city than a pack of werewolves? Consider the lesson they are all learning. They are being transformed from thieves into guardians.”

“That's horrible,” I said.

“Let's try not to judge each other while you are here, Cley. Ideological differences shouldn't come between old friends. I hope that we can agree to disagree.”

It was hard for me to ignore the suffering I witnessed, but I told myself that there was nothing I could do about it. These men would become werewolves, and I, myself, would kill quite a few of them. I had to concentrate on getting the book. “Very well,” I said.

“Very well, indeed,” said Below, and patted me on the back.

We walked through the rubble, heading for the Ministry of Information.

“I understand you have become a vegetable salesman,” he said, smiling.

“I gather and trade herbs and other medicines of the forest.”

“Primitive,” he said. “But, you also deliver children. Now, being a father, I can appreciate this.”

“Do you have a son or daughter?” I asked.

“A son,” said Below, actually beaming with pride. “You might say he is much like me in many ways.”

“I look forward to meeting him,” I said. “And who is the mother?”

“She is wild and untamed … deep and mysterious, but paradise is in her heart.”

“Who is she?” I asked.

“The Beyond,” he said. “My son is the demon I brought back with me from the territory. I tell you, Cley, I am not lying to you in any way when I say that I truly love him.”

“I beg your pardon, Master, but this creature …”

“I know what you are thinking. It is hard for you to imagine how I have helped him. He speaks human language. He no longer eats meat. He reads. He thinks. He is good, Cley. You will approve of him, I'm telling you. Perhaps it was the last result of the white fruit. After it completely destroyed all of my possessions, it left me one gift. The ability to love. I would do anything for him.”

“I am amazed,” I said, and even though I knew the tale, to hear Below speak these words was a miracle I never thought I would witness. “What is his name?”

“Misrix. I named him after a certain adept who lived three centuries ago. A great man as I expect my boy to be someday.” He stopped walking and put his hand on my arm. “You must try very hard not to react to his demon appearance. Please, treat him as if he were …”

“Normal?” I said.

The Master quietly nodded, and we continued. For the remainder of our journey, he questioned me quite specifically about the daily life at Wenau. He inquired about certain people he had known who might still be alive and also as to the whereabouts of Arla and Ea. When we reached the Ministry of Information, we did not enter through the remains of the public baths, but Below produced a key, and we went through a side door in a part of the massive structure that was still completely intact.

He led me down into the basement and to one of the rooms in the long hallway lined with doors, at the end of which was the very place that in my true reality of the future, he lay wasting away with the sleeping disease. It twisted my thinking for a moment when I considered that if I went down the hallway to that room and waited long enough, I would meet myself.

The room, with the exception of the fact that there were no windows, was an exact duplicate of the parlor in which I first met Anotine back on the floating island. I took a seat at the table. He very cordially served me a glass of Rose Ear Sweet and pushed a pack of Hundred-To-Ones, a box of matches, and an ashtray toward me.

“Relax for a moment, Cley. I'll be right back,” he said, leaving me alone in the room.

I tried to appear calm, knowing that my only chance of snatching the book was in waiting and watching for just the right opportunity, but every moment longer I spent exchanging small talk, Anotine withered toward a memory form I would no longer be able to touch. I sipped my drink and lit a cigarette out of nervousness.

The door opened, and Below entered. “Cley, I want you to meet my son, Misrix,” he said.

I stood and put my hand out. The demon came forth with his head bowed and his hands folded in front of him. There would have been no hope for me if I had been seeing him for the first time. I probably would have run screaming from the room, but as it was, I think Below was impressed with my calm demeanor as I coaxed Misrix with a nod of my head to shake hands with me.

“I like your spectacles,” I said to him. “You appear to be a very intelligent young man.”

“Yes, the spectacles. A little much,” said Below.

“No, I'm serious,” I said.

“Thank you,” said Misrix, his fangs showing in a bashful smile.

He sat down with the Master and myself at the table, and I asked him about the books he was reading. The demon took to me and was expounding on some of the more recent volumes he had gone through, when Below interrupted.

“He's quite a fan of the Physiognomy,” he said.

“Your father is a genius,” I said to Misrix, and from the corner of my eye, I could see Below smiling.

I offered the demon a cigarette from the pack lying in front of me, and though he immediately declined, I could see his nervousness when the subject was brought up in front of his father.