Anarchaos

XXVIII

They fed me three meals, and I slept. Then they fed me three meals, and I slept. I counted five such cycles, then I stopped counting; a while later I counted again for another three cycles, then gave it up again, and between the second and third meals on some subsequent cycle the door was unlocked and opened and Phail came in to see me.

We both stood. There was no furniture in this room other than the blanket-covered board on which I slept. The walls and ceiling and floor were all gray metal. There was no window. Each time the door was opened I caught a narrow glimpse of gray corridor. At all times there was the throb of the ship’s engines; we were in insistent motion somewhere.

Phail gave me a hard look and checked off the points briskly on his fingers. “There was a trapper named Torgmund. He has disappeared. His cabin has been found and searched, and it matches your description. His two hairhorses are gone. A half-built addition to his cabin was noted.” There were five points, adding up to the five Fingers of his right hand. He closed this hand into a fist, lowered the fist to his side, and said, “It would appear you were telling the truth.”

I said, “How long have I been here? In this room.”

“That doesn’t make any difference,” he said. “The point is, you can still help us.”

“All the time I’ve been here,” I said, “I thought of nothing but antizone.”

“I don’t care,” he said, with all of his arrogance and impatience.

“Nevertheless,” I said carefully, “it is a fact. Antizone has been my only thought. I never believed, in all that darkness out there beyond the rim, you would find Torgmund’s cabin, and so I thought eventually you would come back and give me the injection of antizone.”

“There’s no point in that now,” he snapped.

“Nevertheless,” I said again, “it is what I thought. And I want to tell you about it.”

He said, “Why should I listen to you?”

“Because it’s important,” I said. “Important to me. You think I can help you. I don’t know why you think that, I don’t know if you’re right or not, but you do think it. I will help you, if you’re right and it’s possible for me to. But first you must listen to what I have to say.”

He smiled thinly. “An odd bargain,” he said. “All right, I’ll listen.”

“At first,” I said, “I was impatient for the search to be given up. I couldn’t think of anything lovelier than an end of self. Oblivion without death, who could ask for anything more? I expressed this attitude when you first mentioned antizone.”

“Yes. I thought it was a bluff. Now I’m not so sure.”

“I continued to think that way,” I said, “for some time after being put into this room. But gradually my attitude began to change. I saw that I was being defeatist and cowardly. I cannot help yearning for antizone, but I began to see that the yearning was shameful, and I want you to know that I am ashamed. I am ashamed of the way I acted about antizone the last time. I want you to know that.”

He studied me in some perplexity, and finally said, “Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“You want me to know you’re ashamed of wanting antizone.”

“Yes.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know about you. I can’t touch you anywhere; I can’t relate you to anything I know. Could it simply be that you’re insane?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “I’ve thought about it, but I don’t know.”

He waved a hand in sudden irritation, as though brushing away cobwebs. “You keep taking me away, leading me off the subject. The site, that’s the important thing. I believe you now, you don’t know where it is. But you might be able to help us find it.”

“Then I will,” I said.

“Good. Come along with me.”

He turned and rapped on the door. The guard opened it, and we left the little gray room. I followed him down the corridor, feeling the ship move sluggishly beneath my feet, and through another door, and out on deck.

The deck was covered, with lights spaced along the roof. To our left as we walked along it was the metal skin of the ship. To our right was blackness, utter and complete. Small water sounds could be heard in the blackness. The impression was that this ship was flying with great speed through empty black space. It was very cold.

Phail led me through another door, inside the ship again, up a flight of stairs, and into a gorgeous room full of bright colors. Carpeting on the floor. Polished wood furniture. Gleaming brass fixtures. Ornate windows onto the outer blackness. Opulence and luxury. In the center, a large and beautiful wooden desk with a polished and empty top.

Phail motioned at this desk. “Sit down,” he said. “You’ll work there. You’ll find pencils and paper in the center drawer.”

Feeling that some mistake was being made, I went to the desk and sat down. I opened the center drawer, and pencils and paper were there, as Phail had said they would be. Since it seemed the proper thing to do, I removed them from the drawer and placed them on the desk. Then I leaned forward, and in the polished top I could see an unclear view of my own face.

In the meantime, Phail had gone to a safe in the corner, had pressed his palm to the scanner of the personnel lock, and had opened the safe door. As he took from the safe a package wrapped in brown paper, the room door burst open and a sailor came in, very excited. “Mister Phail!” I recognized this man as Davus, the one who had thrown me into the water.

Phail looked up at him with apparent annoyance. “What now?”

“General Ingor!”

Phail sprang to his feet. “The General! Where?”

“Coming here! They just radioed.”

Phail glanced at the package in his hand, then at me, then back at Davus. “How long do we have?”

Davus pointed at the ceiling. “He’s right up there! In a plane. They’re landing now.”

In a sudden fury, Phail cried, “How did he find us? Someone on board—” But he cut it abruptly off, spun around, tossed the package back into the safe and shut the safe door. He pointed at me and said to Davus, “Get him out of sight. Back in his room.”

“Yes, sir.” Davus came toward me.

Phail said to him, with cold authority, “Gently, Davus. He’ll go with you, there won’t be any trouble.”

Davus pouted, as though he’d been scolded by a teacher. “Yes, sir,” he said sullenly.

Phail said to me, “Go with him. We’ll get back to this later.”

I said, “Should I put the paper and pencils away?”

Phail made a crooked smile and said, “No, that won’t be necessary. Just go with Davus.”

“All right.”

I followed Davus out of the room. He took me back the same way I had come. This time, as we walked along the deck, the ship was on our right and the empty dark on our left. There was suddenly light out there in the emptiness. I stopped and looked, my hand resting on the rail, and saw an airplane, outlined by its own lights, sail on a long diagonal across the black, from upper right to lower left, its landing lights suddenly picking out at the end of the diagonal the choppiness of black water in the black night. The plane landed on the water and made a long sweeping turn toward us, its lights creating choppy water wherever they touched.

Davus tugged at my arm. “You’re supposed to come along peaceful,” he said. “Don’t get your hopes up about the General. He isn’t here to save you from anybody.”

I let him pull me away, and after that followed him without trouble back to my room.