World's End

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interior of the New Hall of the Republic. The famous

Ramosthenit frescoes, which my mother unearthed in the ruins of Old Dimmarh, are so close to me that I could touch them. But I am trapped in someone else's body, and I am paralyzed. I can only stare and stare in helpless longing as concerned hands, the hands of my people, reach out to me. . . .

I am back with Song. Before I can even speak she asks me another question, and I am wrenched down into utter blackness again.

The game goes on and on, as her words suck me out of myself and abandon me on other worlds, or alone in the Nothing Place. . . . Until at last she tires of the sport, and when I come to once more she rises from her seat and stands over my strengthless body. "You see, Mother?" she screams at no one. "You see, you see--?"

Weeping furiously, she runs from the room.

I lie clawing at the dusty rug, too exhausted to move.

Sleep covers me with its gentle blanket.

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Iwake to the choir of madness. I lie where I lay last night, curled fetally on the floor. Gods, gods.... I pray, but I know there will be no answer. "Religion is only our futile attempt to force order on chaos. " My mother told me that when I was a child. Now, at last, I understand.

Mother . . . Mama. . . . But I know there will be no answer. I bury my face in my hands, drawing my knees up tighter.

"BZ. . . ."

I open my eyes. I see my mother's sad, impatient face bending above me, hazed in red. She kisses my forehead and I am a child of five again. "I'm sorry," she whispers, "I have to leave you now.

... I have to go away."

I push myself up on my arms, frightened and confused, reaching out for her. "Why?" Asking the question that I have asked myself again and again through a lifetime. What did I do wrong?

She shakes her head, looking away from me. "Because

I can't live a lie instead of a life anymore. Try to understand.

... Be a good boy." She kisses me again, pulling

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away from my hands. "Good-bye." And then she leaves my room, and our home, forever.