“What did she say?”
“Well, there wasn't much time, but basically after I told her how I'd found her and that you guys were part of it, she said that she'd found something herself, down in the canyons, and it made her happy. She wanted to tell you all about it. I said it would take a couple of days to get back to her but probably we could be back there, at that spot, in two more mornings. So that's what we planned. We hugged each other and then we hugged again, and then I left.”
"Fantastic, Danny. You did so well!” Palmiro was thrilled. The prospect of seeing Pascale touched a nerve inside him that had been forgotten. For the first time in the longest while he actually felt happy. They turned their horses back toward the ascent and the long trail somehow did not seem so challenging. Even Palmiro seemed to take it smoothly, sitting his horse more surely and not flinching as they zigzagged back and forth to the top. The animals were winded when they got there, so they dismounted and walked some of the way back to the colony. Danny needed to rest and Eboni had duties at the kennels; on the other hand Palmiro was too excited to stay in one place. When they got to the villa he washed up, got in the car and drove downtown.
He arrived at the parking plaza and wandered up the great central boulevard, the Avenue of the Monuments. The light was cascading off the buildings like atomic diamonds. As always, people were moving around among the palaces and temples with that air of blissful self-confidence which characterized Immortals and had provoked such resentment in him when he first encountered it. This time, however, it did not seem offensive. He merely thought the people he saw were in a play, acting a part. They believed in the part with their whole soul and would never dream of changing the theater or the script, but still it was not anything real. Moreover, because of him, the curtain was about to come down on a final act and they were completely unaware. He even felt vaguely sorry for them, strolling around in their foolish ignorance.
He stopped at a kiosk, ordering a drink of crushed fruit juice and ice cream and some almond pastries. He took a seat at a café table under a parasol, stretching his legs in contentment. On the wrought iron surface, next to the napkins, was a colored flier for a forthcoming event. He immediately recognized the splendid face of Sarobindo. The advertisement declared that over the next days the great yogi would be undertaking the spectacular “Voyage of Death at Font Eterno,” something which had claimed the lives of so many, but never of Sarobindo. Palmiro asked the volunteer waiter when this flier had been distributed.
“Just yesterday. The first Immersion is the day after tomorrow. There'll be two more nights after that.”
He remembered the description of the event at the banquet and Adorno's contempt. The scientist's words came back to him, tumbling into his head, “The real loser is Sarobindo.” There arose in him an overpowering desire for Sarobindo's downfall and disgrace. All of Heaven was close to the moment for which Adorno longed but it was the mystical role of Sarobindo which seemed to represent the real enemy. His dicing with death and the way the philosophers swooned over it seemed to constitute the lie at the heart of everything. It was perfectly understandable that nobody wanted to die, and it was also understandable that people would devise an existence of endless pleasure. But to gild it all with phony mystical meaning, that was the truly contemptible thing. He decided that before anything happened he would make sure he attended one of the yogi's Immersions to witness the myth for himself and relish its imminent destruction.
“Well, look who it isn't, hanging out downtown. I'm surprised you have the nerve to show yourself after the fiasco at the philosophers' party!”
It was Gaius with Roland, taking a stroll along the Avenue of the Monuments and gliding in among the cafe tables.
“Come on Gaius, you can't blame this one. They got the real culprit and she's no longer with us happy Immortals, right?'
Palmiro was shocked abruptly from his thoughts. He half stood and then caught himself, sinking back to his seat. Only a few more days and their immortality would be history.
“Oh, hi Gaius, just taking a break, you know. Nothing like the Avenue of the Monuments, is there?”
“I don't think someone like you ever takes a break. And I wasn't fooled one moment at that pantomime. I saw how you shuffled things off onto Pascale, to keep your own nose clean. I'm glad she's gone, but in my book you're next!”
Roland took hold of Gaius by the arm and shoulder, “Hey, calm down, the guy's just chilling. Leave him alone!”
Palmiro tried distraction. “Actually, I was just thinking about this!” And he held up the flier of Sarobindo. “I want to go to it.”
Gaius’ attack was deflected, but he remained sarcastic. “How so? You surely don't want to fit in like the rest of us?”
“I'm interested in Sarobindo's technique. I think I could learn a lot from it.”
“Yeah, why don't you try it for yourself? Why don't you do ‘The Voyage of Death.’ That would save us all the trouble of getting rid of you!”
Gaius clapped Roland on the back as he said this and pushed him past Palmiro, bringing the encounter to an end on the slap-down. Roland laughed and spoke over his shoulder as they walked off, “Take no notice, he's just a little wound today. We'll see you at the Font Eterno!”
Palmiro continued to follow them with his eyes as they walked off under the onion domes of the Kremlin. A vague idea hovered in his thoughts.
5. A GOD IS DEAD
The following mid-afternoon Danny and Palmiro rode out to rescue Pascale. Danny had slept late while Palmiro spent the time assembling supplies for a well-stocked camp at Danny's fortress. They needed some place to hide Pascale at the beginning and from the sound of it the place seemed ideal. Eboni stayed behind and continued to fend off increasingly suspicious questions about the trips on horseback. She decided a partial truth would be the best deceit. She said Danny had discovered a passion for climbing the canyons, it was a kind of extreme sport for him. She and Palmiro were supporting him and helping him establish a cache of supplies at the bottom of the switchback. Colony members were horrified at the idea. Heaven was a mental state as much as a place, and their thoughts had never extended to the badlands. There was never an actual rule against going there, but it was decidedly odd, even perhaps anti-social. Eboni was a little worried by the reaction, but Danny—and definitely Palmiro—did not care.
Because of the added weight and bulk, they took the descent with even more caution than usual. Danny had volunteered Eboni's Appaloosa for Palmiro, because it was nimble and strong, and would give greater security on the long ride. Indeed, Palmiro felt much more confident riding her on the way down. When they got to the bottom they headed straight to Danny's camp. They would arrive after dark but these were nights of a full moon rising early, so they decided to risk it.
As they arrived at the rock tower, the canyon was bathed in a quiet, milky light and, although they could hear coyotes yipping, they did not feel afraid. Danny made the first jump with Stardust. He let down a rope and pulled up the extra supplies, and then Palmiro too at the lowest part of the ridge. Finally Danny took Stardust and tying a long lead rope to Eboni's horse headed some way back down the canyon, then turned and charged the cliff. The Appaloosa followed suit after Stardust and with a spring and a kick made the ridge behind her.
Once inside the enclosure of rocks they built a fire. The two companions stretched out on either side of the burning logs, gazing above at the stars. Palmiro knew that tomorrow he would be telling Pascale everything and Danny would surely be there. After a few moments he let out a deep breath and turned his head toward him.
“You know that guy I've been studying with, the scientist, Adorno?”
Danny propped himself up on an elbow. “Go on.”
“Well, he taught me a lot of things, and about immortality in particular. He showed me it was flawed as a concept, and then he pushed me to investigate its science.”
Danny continued to stare at Palmiro. Somehow it was as if he knew what was coming.
“I worked hard and discovered what I think is some kind of antidote to the immortality enzyme. I'm not entirely sure how it functions but it seems to destroy the whole process, killing the cells. I'm pretty sure any Immortal who took a sip of that would, well…no longer be immortal.”
“Let me get this straight, you've discovered a way to destroy immortality and you're thinking of using it?”
“Danny, you know it's a lousy fake, all of it. These people here were the most privileged in the world at the time of the storms and they found a way to preserve that privilege infinitely. Meanwhile the descendants of everyone else, the ordinary people, slave in the Northern Homeland without even knowing they are slaves. What they call immortality is not really immortality, anyway. It's just a way of putting off death that's going to come one way or another someday. I'm talking about returning things to their natural and true state, the one humans have always had. Death, the great leveler!”
“And exactly how do you plan to do it? Just walk up to people and say, here take a swig of my great leveler, this anti-immortality thing?”
“As yet I haven't planned it in detail. But one possibility is putting it in the water-supply. You know, up in the treatment place you found.”
“Are you insane? You'd have people dying everywhere. It would be horrible. And what about us? What about you, me, Pascale, and people like Eboni and Jonas?”
“Well, all we'd have to do is stop drinking the treated water. If people directly from the North flush immortality out of their system over two or three days then the anti-enzyme will probably have little or no effect on us. We're young and healthy in the ordinary way and we'll stay that way. The deviant form of the enzyme depends, I think, on the programing already in the cell, to gain entry.”
“You think! You're going to kill us all! And that doesn't help people like Eboni or Jonas, people who love us and who are not young in the ordinary way, as you put it!”
Palmiro fixed a cold hard look at the stars and then at his companion.
“Listen, I don't know what you expected in all this. We're rescuing Pascale from a black hole where people disappear without trace, and that's done to keep the rest of Heaven happy. If we get her out, the Immortals are just not going to accept her again, no matter what you or Jonas might hope. They would have to make adjustments and they simply can't do that here. So they’ll be looking for blood, and they'll be coming for you and me too. We don't have a future in Heaven and you better get used to that. Besides, what about everyone back in the North? Have you thought about them? What hope is there for any of them the way things are?”
Danny looked back at Palmiro, not with hostility but because he felt the ground opening up beneath him. He had not thought this through like Palmiro and he had no answers to his questions, no alternatives to propose. The whole thing was suddenly way out of his depth.
“You're right in a lot of things, I can't argue with them. But I want to hear what Pascale has to say, especially about the anti-immortality potion.”
They both lapsed into silence. Their eyes blinked up at the starlit night as their minds drifted toward sleep. Tomorrow they'd be leaving at sun-rise.
***
Pascale climbed the cliff steps with a mounting sense of happiness. Her complete amazement at meeting Danny two mornings ago was something she'd had to keep to herself. Magus was bound to pick up on the news if she'd mentioned anything to the others. Now finally she was able to give rein to the excitement of talking with her brother once again, and with Palmiro too. But just beneath the excitement there was also unease. She was going to tell them everything she was doing and what the canyons meant to her. Would they understand?
That other morning when she had got to the top and found Danny lying in the middle of her stone circle it had been such a joy: she was so thrilled to see him. Then he told her how he and Palmiro planned to return in two more days to take her out of the canyons. There had been no time to talk as he had to get back to Eboni and Palmiro. She tried to say something about the canyons, but there just wasn’t the chance before he rushed off.
Now as she reached the top of the cliff and stepped onto the level, she knew for certain she could not return with them, and it would be very hard for them to grasp the reasons why. She sat down in the middle of her circle and prayed. She still was not sure who or what she was praying to. Was it the starman who had filled her with love? She wasn’t sure. Despite the wonder of that experience, it seemed the pattern of stars really belonged to something that could not be seen. There was no name to give to it except perhaps the face of love, a face the more it was seen, the more it was invisible.
She prayed that Danny and Palmiro could feel some of what she felt. She did not know what their plans were or how her refusal would affect them. Almost certainly they would be upset. She asked for strength. She could not leave Zena, Orwell, Katoucha and all the others, not after everything she had started, not after the tent and the stories. What would happen to this, the latest and perhaps the best ever story, if it simply came to end with her riding off on Danny's horse into the sunset?
Pascale looked out over the canyons. Their striated pattern was already fracturing in the heat, twisting as if the canyons were no longer solid but supple, alive. She watched the shivering light but she was conscious also it was still dark in the canyons under the eastern walls. It felt like a law, that there was always darkness with the light, that the light was always held in a womb of darkness.
She heard a noise and looked around. There riding along the top of the mesa were Danny and Palmiro. She stood up, waving madly, and ran toward them, stifling her cry of happiness in case it might echo below. The two jumped off their horses to greet her, smiling broadly, then hesitated, perhaps because Danny and Palmiro did not know who should embrace her first. Or maybe it was she who held back from them.
“Danny, Palmiro! It's fantastic to see you. You tracked me down out here, I can't believe it!”
“No way could we leave you in this wilderness. You did the same for me in the ice camps and that’s just the first reason!”
“Palmiro, it's so good to hear your voice! How are you anyway, it's been such a time since we had the chance to talk? Come over here. Look, this is my circle. I built it to remind me of everything important. It's my zodiac on the ground!”
Palmiro and Danny allowed themselves to be led to the group of stones. At this point there was no hurry and it seemed as good a place as anywhere. They tethered the horses and fetched out water and cups. Then they sat down with Pascale, like they were all at a picnic.
“When I first saw this I guessed it was you who made it. It seemed just the kind of thing you would do.”
“Well, I should explain why I did it, Danny. We started something down in the canyons and it's there for everybody. But this is where I come for my own sake, to remember my own story, and to listen to the silence.”
She began to tell them what had happened in the canyons from the day she had been brought there by Marius. It didn't take long to see Pascale had changed once again, but this time in a lighter, better way, one that made her happy.
“Some of these people have not spoken for so long their voices are barely a croak. You have to listen really hard to understand them. Katoucha, for example, has abandoned the use of her voice almost entirely. She wrote down her story. She told how she refused to become a lover, rejecting many people and on numerous occasions. One day she took a spoon and pushed her own eye out. Then they sent her to the Ranch. I cannot give her eye back, but I've helped give her story back to her.”
She continued to tell other stories. Of Ravel, who had been a concert pianist and was promised immortality as a way of preserving his art, but he'd never played another note from the day he arrived. Of Zoltan, a first-class athlete who had continued training for Olympic competitions which would never take place, and had been sent to the canyons because in his mind he preferred the ways of the old world. And there was Magada who had been both a popular fil
m-star and campaigner on social issues and had been chosen for her fame and prestige. She had been persuaded into thinking Heaven was for the benefit of everyone, then when she found out the truth she had slashed her wrists in public. Someone had staunched the bleeding and saved her life, but they sent her to the Ranch. There she took a liking to the cattle, and caring for them became her sole concern. One evening after returning from the drive she had ridden her horse to Pascale's tent and without dismounting she told her story.
Palmiro could contain himself no longer. “Pascale, I need to tell you another story, one that will put an end completely to stories like that. You know, more than anyone, I never went along with this whole Heaven thing. I wanted to tell you my ideas about changing everything that very first day we came here but we never got the chance. Now they are no longer ideas, I have found a way of bringing everything down.”
Pascale was listening attentively. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I have discovered a way of countering the immortality enzyme so that it breaks down the cells instead of preserving them. It makes Immortals mortal again.”
Danny screwed his lips shut and focused tautly on Pascale, waiting for what she might say.
“I am still confused. How does this thing work?”
“It's a fluid. If it were mixed with the water it would enter people's bodies when they drank and then do its work.”
“You mean everyone would die?”
“Most Immortals would. I'm pretty sure people like us, who came here only recently, we would survive.”
“Palmiro, you can't do that. You can't kill everyone off. They'd have no idea of what hit them! It would be horrible, horrific.”
“It's not killing. It would simply be returning things to the way they always were. The normal state of organic life for millions of years.”
“That's not the point, and you know it. These people are alive at the moment and free to choose. You have to respect their freedom, let them decide themselves.”
Pascale's Wager: Homelands of Heaven Page 37
