Memoranda (9 page)

“How have you been, Cley?” he asked.

“I'm well,” I said.

“I heard you would be coming, so I crawled out of my hole and came by to visit.”

“Are you dead?” I asked him.

“Your delicacy is appreciated,” he said.

“I'm sorry.”

He laughed. “I was devoured by a demon in the Beyond, do you remember?” he asked. “Calloo shot me, but I was still alive when the creature sank his teeth into my flesh.”

I shook my head, unwilling to picture what he described.

“This demon of yours, Misrix, was the one who took me. He was later captured by Below and brought to the Well-Built City. When you are devoured by demons, they steal your energy, and you live on as long as they do somewhere in their memory.”

“So you are always here in this memory of the Palishize?” I asked.

“I wander here among the mounds always at night. Sometimes I go down to the side of the ocean in hopes of seeing a ship I could hail to rescue me. There's some regularity to it.”

“What do you eat?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said.”

We began to walk, and he asked me about Arla. “She's married and has two children,” I told him.

He pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket and blew his nose. Then he stopped suddenly and turned. “What was that?” he said.

I, too, turned and listened.

He pointed at me and started laughing.

“You have a good memory,” I told him.

“That's what I do while I wander through the tunnels here, I remember everything,” he said. “We have to move a little faster; I have an appointment I can't miss.”

We quickened our pace. “With the exception of you, Cley, the visits have been limited. But I can tell you about an interesting one before I have to leave you.”

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“I bet you didn't know that your demon's first female was that wolf-girl.”

“What do you mean?”

“Greta Sykes,” he said. “I'm talking about love.”

“Harrow's hindquarters,” I said.

“And then some … I heard he was flapping his wings so hard, he had her rump three feet off the ground. His member is barbed for the give and take.”

“Please,” I said.

“Well, when the two of them came together, I got to see my wife. It was Greta Sykes who devoured my wife. Lilith's energy is captured in the memory of the wolf-girl. But during sex, a merging of memories takes place.”

“What did you say to her?” I asked.

“I told her I loved her and that I missed her. We couldn't actually touch. When we hugged, we went through each other. With air between us, we danced on the shore of the inland ocean. It was a night like this,” he said, pointing up at the stars. “Later on she disrobed for me, and I for her, since we knew it might be an eternity before we saw each other again. She slid her tongue through my chest and heart. Mine curled through her skull, and then she dissipated into a brown powder that carried the scent of cremat.”

I looked up, and he took me by the arm and began to walk briskly. “I can't be late,” he said. “I'm due to be torn to shreds and devoured.”

“You're making fun of me again,” I said.

“Each and every night. There's nothing fun about it,” he said, all the humor gone from his face. He turned and walked away from me.

When I looked up to watch him, I realized that he had led me back to the entrance. Bataldo headed out of the city toward the tree line of the forest, and I could hear him weeping. As he disappeared into the darkness at the edge of the wood, Misrix instantly appeared from the very same spot. He walked toward me, his wings outstretched.

“I'm better now, Cley. We must continue,” called the demon as he approached.

“Is my body doing well?” I asked.

“You are sleeping like a pup,” he said. “Come now.” With this, he moved behind me and clutched me beneath the arms. A cry of agony cut through the forest as we lifted off the ground, dried dirt billowing around us from the action of his wings. We hovered above the city, and for a moment I could make out the entirety of its spiral design.

“I feel strong now,” said the demon, as we flew at top speed through the cold night again.

“I met one of your victims from the Beyond,” I said, as he changed direction straight upward toward the now fully risen moon.

“Regrettable in hindsight,” he said. “But back then he served me well.”

“And will I serve you also?” I asked.

The demon stopped flying, laughed, then plunged headlong out of the sky. The sudden rush of the wind was a roar that stole my scream. He put his mouth to my ear, and shouted, “You will serve us all.”

9

I found myself sitting in a green-cushioned chair in the corner of a large parlor. There were windows without glass, bookshelves, a chandelier, a thick pink rug with an interwoven design of flowering tendrils. The warm night breeze drifted in over the four figures sitting at a table in the center of the room. They were drinking cocktails and conversing about the disintegration of something. There was a woman and three men, and when one of them noticed me and pointed, they all turned and stared.

“Your specimen has arrived, Anotine,” said the man who first saw me.

The woman smiled and waved her hand for me to join them. “Come over,” she said.

“Have a drink,” said the thin man to the right of her.

My head was still spinning from the fall, but I got out of the chair and walked unsteadily toward the table.

“What is your name?” asked the woman, adjusting the strap of her yellow dress.

“Cley,” I said.

“Anotine,” she said, and put her hand out to me. Her hair and eyes were dark. She was smooth-skinned, perhaps a year or two younger than myself.

I did not touch her for fear that my palm might pass through hers, but I nodded and smiled.

She pointed to the man across the table who had first seen me. “Doctor Hellman,” she said.

A small, bearded fellow with spectacles and prominent ears shrugged, and said, “Welcome,” as if he were asking a question.

“This is Brisden,” she said, laying a hand on the shoulder of the man to her right.

“Are you lightheaded, Mr. Cley? Sometimes when the specimens arrive, they complain of lightheadedness,” he said. His suit was wrinkled where it wasn't stretched by his obesity. The watery eyes, the weary measure of his speech told me he had already had quite a few sips from the dark pint bottle he held.

“I'm fine,” I lied, as the third man handed me a drink.

“Nunnly,” he said, pulling out the chair that sat between the doctor and himself. “Good of you to come.”

I sat down warily at the table and took a sip. The instant I brought the glass to my mouth, I smelled the warm floral scent of Rose Ear Sweet. It was the first taste of it I'd had in years, and it flooded my senses.

“Rose Ear Sweet,” I said aloud, not meaning to.

“Have as much as you like,” said Nunnly, pushing the bottle closer to me.

I took another drink, and Anotine said, “Where are you from, Cley?” She moved her dark hair behind her ears and leaned back in the chair, folding her arms.

“Wenau,” I said.

“Never heard of it,” said Doctor Hellman, and the others agreed.

“You'll be helping me with my discoveries,” she said. “Occasionally, your duties will include assisting the gentlemen here in their own pursuits. The term of your service is one year. Do you have any questions?”

“Is it common for people to simply appear before you?” I asked.

They smiled and looked at each other.

“How else?” said Nunnly. “When one of us orders a specimen, like yourself, the subject usually coalesces in that chair over there.”

The aplomb with which my strange entrance was greeted silenced me. I worked on my drink as well as my composure while the others continued with their discussion. The Sweet was just what I needed to calm myself. “Now, if I only had a cigarette,” I thought, “things might almost be tolerable.” My mind was still swimming upstream through the implications of my meeting with Bataldo amidst the mounds of the Palishize. The conversation of my hosts seemed intriguing and serious, but when I tried to follow it, my head began to throb. I let their words pass over me.

At one point, after my third Sweet, I came to my senses and heard Anotine say, “It's all in the moment.”

“No,” said Doctor Hellman. “In the memory of the moment.”

Brisden cleared his throat and cut in on the doctor. “The present is a doorway—a randomly located aperture assigned its location by ourselves, arbitrarily, contradicting the totality of the void.”

By some sleight of hand, Nunnly lit a cigarette without my noticing. “The three of you,” he said, “your words are like the mechanisms I design—purposeless. Your theories are desperately searching for a reason to exist. And Brisden, someday I'll have a vague clue as to what you are getting at. My god, your drivel is a crime against humanity.”

They laughed, Brisden hardest of all.

“Well, let's not let it ruin the day,” said Doctor Hellman, pushing his chair back and rising.

They all stood and I followed their lead. Each of the men stepped up and shook my hand. I was not sure if it was a good thing that I did not pass through them. “Good night,” they said as they left.

Anotine turned to me, and said, “Come, Cley, it's late. There is a lot to do in the morning.” We followed the men down a corridor lined with arched window openings that led to a terrace. Once there, in the moonlight, they all went off in different directions.

I followed like a shadow behind Anotine, weaving somewhat from the effects of the Rose Ear Sweet. It felt good to be outside. The air was clear and filled with the mixing scents of various night blossoms that grew everywhere from planters built directly into the architecture.

We went down a wide stairway to another level, then turned left and passed an open-air hall of columns, to the right of which was a pool, perfectly still, reflecting unfamiliar constellations. She walked slowly, stopping from time to time and staring up.

The place was an unraveling mystery, a series of terraces built at all different levels with rooms and halls and courtyards of every conceivable shape connected by long and short stairways. There were fountains and sculptures at different locations. I passed dozens of entrances without doors, windows without glass. Everything was open, dark, and perfectly quiet.

“Where is everyone?” I asked, as Anotine stopped beside a fountain to watch the arc of water falling from the breast of a stone pelican.

“Everyone?” she asked.

“The rest of the people who live in all of these rooms,” I said.

“It's just the four of us you met tonight, Cley,” she said.

“No others?” I asked.

“We are fairly sure there is someone in the tower, but I've never seen him,” she said, pointing over my shoulder.

I turned around and looked up. The height of it made me take a step back, and I came near to losing my balance. It rose more than a hundred feet above the terraced village that surrounded its base. The glass dome at the top of the brick structure glowed like a lighthouse beacon.

“The Panopticon,” she said. “The term implies that we are being watched.”

“Are we?” I asked.

“Most definitely,” she said. “I only wonder if what is being seen makes any difference.”

She began walking and said no more to me. We climbed a last set of steps and came to a series of lighted rooms. She led me through an open portico and an arched entrance.

The smooth walls of the room were whitewashed. It was furnished with only a bed, situated in a corner beneath a window opening, a brown rug, a small table, and a chair. A hallway led off from the middle of the left wall of the room, and at the back there was another, larger window opening.

“You may sleep on the rug if you wish,” said Anotine as she turned down the spire lamps so that their light was the equivalent of a single candle.

I walked to the back of the room and sat in the chair next to the table. From the shadows, I watched as she sat on the bed and removed her shoes. When she stood and unhooked the straps of her dress, I realized that she was going to disrobe.

I coughed weakly to remind her of my presence.

She let the dress slip off her onto the floor, then turned and asked me if I had said something.

Her breasts were exposed, and I studied them closely as she leaned over to remove her underwear.

“No,” I replied, as she turned around and bent over to pick up the dress.

She tossed her garments down the hallway and turned to face me one more time. I took in her entire figure. Anotine smiled and said good night before lying down on her bed.

She slept atop the covers on her stomach with her legs apart, and the candle glow of the spire lamps dissolved the dark enough for me to see everything. I was somewhat beyond the perpendicular as I sat there staring. There were two things I repeated in my thoughts: “Nothing is real here,” and “Everything means something.”

I finally tore myself away from the sight of Anotine by standing and staring out the back window. With the help of the moon and the dome of the Panopticon, I was able to see out across a field that lay below the window. The grassy expanse was bounded by a wood which seemed to encircle the village as the village appeared to encircle the tower. I was exhausted, but I decided to take a walk and think through the complications of my quest. There was a moment of trepidation in which I wondered if I should ask permission of my host to go out, but I reasoned that it would be a shame to wake her. Besides, there was a limit to how far I could wander, seeing as we were on an island.

It took me the better part of an hour to traverse the maze of stairways that led to that field, but I was glad for the puzzle, hoping the concentration might clear my thoughts of Anotine's body. Finally, I ascended a long set of steps and, upon reaching the top, strode onto the grass. Although I should have been sleeping, I needed to see if Misrix's description of the island had been accurate.