Chapter 15.
It was a warm and comforting decorum, ideal shelter for thoughts in escape, ideas attracted by the lights of the candles as disorientated moths, that plane in the flame up to burn to ample spirals. A refined person restaurant in the doors in Milan, drawn as for retaliation from a humble farmhouse of two centuries precedent, an agricultural house voted to the sweat and the work.
Today that casket of displayed wealths was embellished of a rare jewel, of an unique piece, since Helen Sastri nothing of its person had left to the case.
This way you/he/she had appeared to his/her guest, that had seen her go down the last steps of the building, cancelling in a solo to appear all the ugliness of the Milanese outskirts; the thin feet put on black sandals with silvered buckles, the skirt of the dark suit it opened on the side in a regardful cleft, rippling as the wings of a crow. On the naked shoulders it leaned a shawl in silk color whipped cream, to protect her/it from the breezes that at night they infested still the spring; the neckline on the breast was embellished of a gold necklace white and bright that seemed suspended to the nothing, a small rock-cliff on the sea of its skin of silk. And the face, decorated by the chestnut wave of the loose hair, just grazed by diaphanous tones of makeup, it was a proclamation of sweetness and seduction.
Charles attended her/it bold, sustaining and reciprocating the serenity of his/her look. It was as a mirror, for Helen, impenetrable and mysterious; that so sure and reassuring man, rigorous but never rigid, it attended her/it standing, as a watch, dressed of a dark suit that encircled its thick body as an armor. The just trimmed skull, the hoarfrost of the cut mature hair I press to the root, it made even more it that virile night.
The farmhouse that entertained the ristornate had almost appeared to the sudden one, abandoned along one of the so many invented channels for dissetare the needy countries padane. It still showed on the side the wheel of a mill, today immovable, as if any instant of its works had jammed and you/he/she had delivered her/it to a perpetual rest.
Immovable once seemed to also reign to the inside, in one of the rooms that are been turned to room by lunch. Lights soffuse, sporadic noises, low words.
And the dialogue among the two table companion continued smozzicato but without regrets.
«You speak to me of her.»
You/he/she had exhorted so Charles, with simplicity and courtesy.
It was beautiful to hear the voice of Helen, smiling and flattered, to tell himself/herself/themselves itself.
You same had loved that hurry that imagined disinterested. And she had surrendered herself to confide his/her past to a person from which it hesitated to distrust.
It told of itself and of last the years, of his/her mother and of his/her father, of their house and of that that, accomplice its free spirit, had become her house.
And he provoked her/it punctuating his/her stories with amazing irony but without never widening in undesirable confidences.
The supper was by now is consumed when Charles Pezzali, smiling and extended, the layings an unexpected question.
«Because you/he/she is avoiding my application?»
Helen was amazed.
«I don't understand» it said.
«I have asked her to speak to me of her. But what tells me is not his/her life. It is as if, asking her a painting, she offered me a frame.»
Helen stiffened him on the chair.
«You/he/she is saying that my life is only a frame?»
«I am telling her that a sequence of anecdotes I am not the life of anybody. And that the wealth of its person embellishes only in vain a background that seems not to want to reach.»
«Doctor Pezzali, I am a scientist» he/she answered of a breath. «I am usual to speak of this of which I have the complete mastery. All of this that he/she remains in the background is what I don't succeed in putting to fire. If he/she wants a rational explanation, well, I remove, neither more neither as ago whoever of us. If instead it is satisfied with me, believes me: I am offering her the most interesting part of my life.»
«Difficult something more interesting of the heart of a person exists.»
«My heart beats in every thing that I do and that I say. It is to whom listens to me to know him/it light.»
Pezzali lifted the wine glass and fixed the brightness rubina of the wine in it content.
«You/he/she has not told me of his/her brother yet.»
It told her without dissuading the look from the glass. Then he/she drank, avoiding volutamente to perceive the shade of dismay that had covered in that instant the face of Helen.
«You know my brother?»
Charles delayed, neglecting volutamente those nervous words. The wine glass was still in hand, held back for the stem with unusual delicacy from its stumpy fingers.
«It knows him/it?» it pursued him/it her.
He deposed the glass.
«My dear: whoever has a minimum of culture it knows Angel Sastri.»
«I gratify of it. But is what I ask her: as ago to know that it is my brother?»
«It would be satisfied with a" I don't remember?" Those of the human resources, have read perhaps perhaps him on some newspaper. Believe me, I don't know him/it. He/she sees: also I am a scientist. And I also remove. And when it happens me to deal me with gossips, my unconscious it is ashamed of mine aware.» A smile turned her the nth reassuring smile. «Therefore he/she remains me in mind the gossip, while the gossiper fades away in the forgetfulness.»
Laughed at itself, Pezzali, showing himself/herself/itself sincere. And hilarity infected the young one, that found the courage to again stretch him. And the image of the puppet, whose ropes are extended or you loosen to liking from the puppeteer, didn't seem even still to graze her/it.
«You forgive me. But I have to confess that with her I often feel me to uneasiness: it seems to know everything about me and me he/she anchors I don't know anything of her.»
Charles lowered the watch volutamente.
«Thing wants to know?»
Helen was not waited for that so simple question. It is arrancò for an instant in his/her own embarrassment, without knowing well whether to address him.
«Oh, beh. Also the simplest things. He/she usually wonders if a person is married, if you/he/she has family.»
«And the answer in this case would be negative. I have not had time to build lasting bonds or better: I have not wanted to grant time. I fear to have devoted too much of my life to the science to consider her/it by now my only companion.»
«It is not beautiful to feel to tell him him» it considered Helen. «It plays too much as a renouncement and this it is not from her.»
«Each pursues his/her own vocation and a cause as ours it asks for a total devotion. You has done mine same choice. Has not you/he/she ever felt the sacred fire of the knowledge burn in her, so much to suffocate every other pulsione?»
«I fear of no» the girl protected him. «I/you/they have never been that type of scientist.»
«Allows me not to believe her. Don't end by chance certain choices. Biology is not chosen with the same lightness with which an accountant goes to work in the bank.»
«This is true.» the girl that didn't realize to have returned the object of the conversation yet murmured.
«Thing has pushed therefore her in that direction?»
Helen blushed.
«Nothing of main point. They were only childish naivety» it mentioned as soon as.
«They are not never ingenues those occasions that leave so deep signs in our life. I beg her, you tell me.»
«It is not anything original: it is the classical passion for the animals, that have all the children.»
«Yet to a line you/he/she has stopped being a game. When?»
Helen took breath. Without realizing of it, you/he/she was telling his/her life.
«I had just begun the averages. It was September, memory well, the last remnant of the beautiful season. Ide
a has been of my mother: to go all in visit to the park of the Cornelles.»
Smiled Pezzali.
«I know well it» it commented. «The heaven of every small naturalist of the north Italy.»
«And it was also a heaven for me: I was excited as solo a child you/he/she can be him/it. That day memory that we were all united ones: also dad had remained with us.»
Pezzali observed: Helen finally seemed serene. Naïvely serene, as solo a child can be him/it. On his/her face, spontaneously expressive, they flowed the frames of so many years before. It was her to speak and it had the courage of it because he/she talked to herself; it was since that time the baby that he exposed and he/she was listened.
«I don't have intention to annoy her/it with the by crucis to which I have forced mine in front of every enclosure. But I don't believe that I would ever have become what I/you/they am if that day I/you was not stopped me in front of the cage of the gibbons. That small, marvelous acrobats, seized to their long levers, they were launched agile and sure on the branches, on the bars, suspended to the lianas. I was estasiata: it was as to be to the circus. And I had not realized yet that, seized to the leg of one of them, hidden and protected, he allowed to transport confident a pup, one monkeys minuscule that looked the world from that unusual position. His/her mother was bringing him/it thin on top of the cage and there, instead that to protect him/it, attached him/it to strength to the bars, regardless of the complaints and of all the efforts that the pup did for not detaching himself/herself/themselves from her; then you/he/she got further, leaving himself/herself/itself to hang bold to some meter of distance to observe him/it. The small one was terrorized. But his/her mother appeared insensitive: you/he/she attended only that his/her child returned to earth with his/her strengths. To my eyes of baby, did that scene arouse horror: it is possible, did I wonder me, that the nature allows a similar cruelty? And my anger was not able whether to turn bitter himself/herself/themselves when the small one, in to still manage among its uncertain gestures, lost the taking and it fell to the ground from a height than at least five meters. The public of the human ones sent forth a moan. But it was then that I had to retract me on that animals, since well more touching it was the reaction of the flock, of his/her/their mother above all. It was her to hasten for first to pick up his/her child, while all around the other monkeys were lined up. You held him/it narrow to itself, reassuring him/it with the same tenderness that I would have been able to see in a human mother. Attended different minutes up to feel the pulsations of the frightened little heart return normal. It is alone then it restarted to educate him/it, again dragging him/it in that merry-go-round of initiation.»
Pezzali docilely attended, weighing every word and every sentence. It intervened only when a longer break of others the granted ones not to become himself/herself/themselves intrusive.
«Beautiful story, Miss. So has so much unexpected familiarity upset her puberty?»
«Stunned? No, doctor, that binding word! However, I admit: you/he/she has been in that occasion, without I/you could exactly know thing it meant, that had the intuition of our place in the animal kingdom. How could I observe that almost indistinguishable gestures from ours without thinking about the relative that ties us to that records? I had had my first meeting with the inevitability of the natural evolution, without nobody had expressly spoken to me of it. I had just ended the elementary ones, and in a school of nuns, moreover. However I knew about something that played as" the man comes down from the monkey." Then I realized only the meaning of it.»
«And so definite to deepen. Was it therefore the humanity of the monkeys to drag her/it toward the science?»
«It is more exact to speak of humanity of the monkeys or animalità of the man?» he/she asked point-blank Helen. Pezzali scrutinized in his/her eyes, perceiving an unexpected rigor. It was a dark look, frowning. Adult. The child had stopped telling. And with that pessimistic question, a new breach he was opening among the boundaries of her soul, so much rigid and so much fragile. I know well it, since me same I created her for my favorite Daughter.
«However it is true: I have deepened. And I discovered other common habits between them and we. For example, the monogamy. The nucleus famigliare is united up to the end, also after the weaning of the small ones. And I found paradoxical to read him/it while the families of many my classmates went to pieces. The same training to the life, to which the pups of the gibbons are submitted: studying anthropology I realized me that that rite of initiation apparently sadistic, to which had assisted with dismay, it didn't have anything to envy to the perversions of those of the primitive human tribes, that so much behaved more often the death of the young apprentice.»
«You/he/she has never asked where you/he/she could bring us ours to evolve us?»
«I don't see the utility of it. We are what we are. And it is not to us to imagine the next discard toward a future that we can never foresee best, neither worse.»
How much marvelous cynicism, loved Helen! And what apparent separation from the torments of the children of Adamo! Shown for what you are, so that a hand befriends can grab you and to shake you from the numbness in which you imprisoned yourself. Freed by the inactivity and mantled of your blasphemous lineage. And surprise you some world, surprising the world, creation created anxious to create and incapable to recreate himself/herself/themselves.
«He/she knows qual it is the only true conquest of the man? Being the first kind animal able to decide from itself his/her own destiny.»
The good doctor could not choose simpler and more direct words. The curiosity of Helen, curiosity female would have made the rest.
«The awareness of itself is what you/he/she has deluded for millennia the man to have been conceived by a to be supreme.»
Good, my treasure! It sinks on the Old one on his/her dignity and imbizzarriscilo. You complete my revenge black angel. There is no anything that He detests more of the to escape of one guinea-pig of his from the sacred claws. It is Pezzali it made the rest.
«I don't speak of the destiny of the single individual to spiritual crisis. I speak of the destiny of the whole kind. I don't intend a generic improvement of the behaviors, fruit of a constrictive education more and more. I speak of a new evolutionary kick, this time autoinferto. I don't speak of memi. I speak of geniuses.» The seed had been thrown.
Geniuses. Such a concrete reference to bring back her/it to the dialogue with an almost scientific rigor, as if he/she anchors that it was his/her bread.
«What it intends to say?»
Charles Pezzali, austere professorial roused by the destiny, varying unknowable of the diabolic sketch, he/she talked to acrylic voice.
«You have seen you same to what aberrations it drags the merciless law of the nature and your heart of young girl has trembled of it naïvely. The evolution rewards the strongest kind and the strongest kind it is that constituted by individuals that they are known better how to suit for the context in which you/they live. The strength of the braccias in the gibbons is what it holds them distant from the raiders and it is not certain conceives for giving sollazzo to a junior branch of the kind of the records that, after millennia of evolution, you/he/she would have been able to admire its deeds. To strengthen the kind, that beings have understood the necessity to make his/her own autonomous pups the more in possible hurry. Also at the cost to sacrifice them.»
Helen had a shiver.
«You understand what I am saying» the he still turned Pezzali. «As the gibbons, aware for instinct of the precariousness of the existence, they are prepared to sacrifice his/her children to strengthen the kind, so we are also us; forced to procreate in mass, so that also only few of us can perpetuate the genetic patrimony of the kind and to safeguard him/it. The vocation for the numerous family is a heritage of our primitive being and at all is not appanage of the behind populations and the most closed seven. He/she anchors today, our instinct drives us to the dispersion of the seeds, in the hope that at
least one among our heirs can survive in a world in which the new raiders wear the same furs of those old solo because so you/they have tidied up her for them Dessert and Gabbana. There are stuffed till now of children in quantity because you/he/she was not given to check its quality there. The health, Helen, the first inalienable right of every living being has always been blocked there.»
«It is not true, you/he/she cannot say him/it her. Just her, that is medical. The medicine.»
«The medicine is impotent, Helen, and you know well it! You/he/she can postpone, you/he/she can collide with, but you/he/she cannot do forever it. And you/he/she cannot do him/it on everything. But the hereditary advantages, those remain. It is there that we have to channel our efforts. It is this the last battle to which the humanity has been called.»
Helen started to quiver, desiring rabbiosamente to turn elsewhere the look to escape from that diaphanous eyes able to seize her/it. And a cold that believed buried returned to grip her/it.
«I don't understand where he/she wants to arrive.»
He/she wanted smarcarsi to escape from a spiral whose holds already felt her be unknown entirely. But it committed the same error of whom runs away for a street finding her/it without exit.
«You have understood instead very well it. Don't also commit you the error to fear the unknown one. It is not from men to bite the hand of whom is saving you.»
«There is no salvation!» You rebelled the young one. «To save the body, condemns the soul.»
It is Pezzali for an instant it was struck dumb. You withdrew on the chair, it supported him solemn to the back.
«I cannot believe that you think him/it really» it murmured her with separation. «You are only a frightened little animal, that he/she doesn't know what says.»
«I am a scientist, teacher.»
«No, cannot be him/it! The excuse of the soul leave her/it to the parasites!» It chased away again her in throat every possible justification. It is alone later, it approached her with the deceptive lilt of the good father. «Jesuits, imam, political. Paralytic of the virtue, tied up to their temporary power, terrorized by the conceives to lose him/it. He/she leaves that they are them to hate the walk of the knowledge. All the conquests today gatherings universally in past you/they have suffered the same ostracisms from the same castes. Also the medicine has had to make himself/herself/themselves road in the middle of the fires and to the tortures. In the dark centuries of our history the sight glasses have even been accepted immediately: a tool of the demon, was said.» It is in effects they were also right, I add me. «It is a constant of the humanity: every time that a revolution is near, it prevails our terror, and also the craziest millenarista succeeds in influencing the masses, remembering us what both our place to the presence of God.»
God. A same swearword his/her evoked being. An appalling name for the small creature named Helen. A sinful memory of youth as the first clandestine sweep, to the sea, as soon as more adolescent, that riaffiora bringing with itself remote senses of guilt.
«I don't understand.» it mumbled anchor, deceiving and deceiving himself/herself/itself.
«Not to pretend!» Pezzali disclosed her/it.
«No, no.» shiny Eyes, my treasure. What is it, the weight of the sin? A confession without absolution is as an embrace without orgasm.
«Not to pretend with me. Neither with yourself.»
It withdrew the look, tightening himself/herself/itself the shoulders among the hands, as to protect himself/herself/themselves and to take comfort himself/herself/themselves. Because there is not here mother with me?
«Helen, look me!»
I don't want to understand. Close me the ears, mother!
«Look me!» it ordered peremptory, taking her hands and forcing to return her/it conscious. And when it was sure to have his/her attention, sipped her/it from the hold but not from the truth.
«I am speaking of the rebirth of the man. Of the dawn of a new Adamo, healthy, strong, intelligent, beautiful. I am speaking of the selection of the kind, of the total control of the births, of the procreation and of the artificial pregnancy. And I am speaking without hypocrisies of it, because to improve is us one inalienable right of ours, written ago in the code genetic million and million of years, to appear some life.»
Helen stared at him/it struck dumb. It felt useless tears crowd behind his/her eyes.
«It is impossible.» You made then strength and it reacted for as it was her granted. «Nothing of what says it is possible. You are only a crazy person. An old crazy person.»
«I am not crazy. And everything this is nearer than you believes.»
Certainly that it is nearby. It felt him/it, it felt him/it inside of itself. It recognized him/it in the words of that man: they seemed material substances, that slowly fell in his/her heart, going to perfectly abandon already in spaces dug for welcoming her; words that filled empty on purpose servants. The furrows, the confinements immaginifici predisposed by its more expensive affections had meticulously been carved with the skill of a Carthusian monk with the patience of a brother.
«Follow me.»
The voice of Charles brought back her/it to the present. The girl lifted the look and saw the hand of his/her guest brim verse of her.
«You have the right to know. You come with me Helen. Trusted.» The voice didn't betray any constraint: Pezzali wanted her/it acquiescent.
Helen picked up, disoriented and worn-out, as a castaway abandoned on a shore by that same hostile strength that had sfiancato of it every resistance. As a wood disancorato he allowed to drive from that hand, the only sure grip that was offered her, whose hold refused but from which didn't succeed to dissuade the look.
It slipped out of the table, attended over-the-counter that his/her guest settled the account, he answered with a sign of the head to the regard of the personnel that stared at her/it admired. And he/she didn't want anybody, not indiscreet eye, not polite voice, neither a guide that the footstep marked her. Alone and wandering, you/he/she would have dreamt to lose himself/herself/themselves in the night.
A night suddenly chilled him. Distant muttering and capricious refoli announced next the rain. A night that impended on every footstep of his from the restaurant to the car; and street so, while the rhombus of the motor and the frizzling of the wheels on the gravel the squassavanos the mind. Cursed troublesome noises! Pezzali if nothing else it respected the claustrum of his/her heart. If you/he/she had been able, you/he/she would have ordered the dark rider to the world to keep silent.
Taken back so an absurd trip. The sure look of him on the guide, that of her lost among the shades that were projected out of the crystal.
Only a lightning broke the monotony of those darkness. An only light that projected for an instant the face of Helen on the glass. An instant able to reveal her the whole own brittleness, an evanescent image, a ridiculous and tragic ectoplasm.
It was almost to the sudden one that the glassy boundaries of the Furnaces the they protected from now on him. In the heart of the night they appeared in all of their coldness. Reflected in that out building it was only the darkness that by now swallowed Milan.
The door opened her before. You fell in the cabin a pluvius pregnant gust. Helen shivered. You tightened the shawl on the shoulders, he served strength and descents as the vehicle. But to the presence of the steps it hesitated: the boundaries that would have had to protect impended her/it hostile on her.
Pezzali encircled then her the shoulders and an unexpected relief it immediately was propagated her in the body infreddolito.
«We go» it whispered her with sweetness. So together they reached the entry.
Pezzali made to flow the magnetic gang of the badge in a crack and digitò a numerical code on the pulsantiera. Six figures in everything.
What does have scritto"sesamo?"
And the door opened.
The level of the lights automatically got up that so much that was enough for being able to r
ealize the run.
There was not a soul. They were already probably him all sold ones.
They came so to the elevator, that conducted them crawling there along his/her well of cement where Helen had already understood.
The laboratory the he offered again. But a dismal and cruel mind now showed her. The lights were transformed, enfeebled every heat they remained pale guides of a sacred run. And two bodies, wound as in a grisly ritual in the sterilized shrouds, they were started along the corridors. The last door opened on a futuristic cemetery, almost entirely wound in the darkness, of which you/they were realized as soon as the abandoned technological cippis.
It made exception a posting weakly illuminated, near which a screen was power on. Lowered on it, candid and silent as a thoughtful corpse on his/her own grave, it operated Anthony Costa.
Closed within until in the heart of the night, devoted to the supreme cause, it lifted the look, it observed in the faint light the two intruders and it quadrated afoot afresh the girl.
«And this thing us ago here?»
A livid voice, made acid by thin feminine veins. Through the glass of the glasses two sharp pupils fixed grim the young one. Enfeebled every courtesy, disappeared every trace of affability. Anthony Costa was now how much more distant you/he/she could be imagined by the embarrassed frocetto of the first afternoon.
«You don't have to worry of it. It is here with me, so much is enough for you.»
Instants of silence followed; it didn't mention to halt himself/herself/themselves the examination autoptico of Helen, sectioned by calculating eyes. Eyes that seemed to read as a book her fear, that him so more incattivivanos feared the brittleness of it.
«I remember you that are not to the circle of the bridge, doctor.» it severe added the researcher.
«It is not to you to remember me who are, young friend. I know well what I do, since it is what I have always done. Also with you.»
«Certain.» it hissed. «You are here you the head.»
«There is not any head among us» it replied severe. «But there is trust. It is a necessary requisite for all those people who stick to our project. You have come to less, call out also you of it.»
«The road by now you know her/it. Both» it mumbled Anthony Costa, and it kept silent, definitely withdrawing himself/herself/itself in his/her own job.
They overcame therefore uninjured Caron dimonio, while the eyes of bragia already looked elsewhere. The walk folded up over the laboratory, where a panel seminascosto had conducted Helen to the presence of the monkey.
But this time a different code, longer, it opened wide a paratia close to that that Helen attended of veder to fade away. A paratia so much well hidden that nobody would have expected to see to be transformed her/it him in a passage.
A sterile room. A meter for one of germicidio, of extermination of mass of microforme of life.
As the cars decided that the two was sufficiently clean, the intercapedine opened the last access and an automatic light it progressively got up, as the dawn of one artificial day, to illuminate the last of that bulky secret.
They were in the laboratory. The laboratory. That hidden, of the Gothic novels. That of those people who play to do and to undo the life, for riassemblarla to them liking.
Helen recognized him/it, as a child estranged to the birth by the family that it finds again him at the end of the fable to the presence of the true parents.
In that antiseptic environment, different cylindrical containers contained a yellowish watery soup.
«What it is?» it found the strength to ask Helen.
«Forewaters.»
The girl still observed from far. It didn't dare to draw near, you/he/she could not get further. He/she spoke of what he/she knew for as he/she succeeded.
«From who have withdrawn him/it?»
«From anybody.»
By now it had to wait him answered unbelievable but the impossible one was still a ground in which it labored to stir. Taken breath with immense work.
«What it is?» it repeated sfiancata.
«I have told you him. Forewaters, the purest that you can imagine. Synthesized and improved in these rooms.»
The alcove of the life. Its abdomen of woman reboiled, it tormented him nauseated to this usurpation.
Contained in those vials it seemed an appetizer for regiments in exposure to a festival of the carbonated drink. But the forewaters is not drunk. It is not injected for endovena, neither tantomeno he inserts him from back. And therefore, that sense has that atavistic embrace maternal statement so in beautiful sight? Who would have profited never of it?
Of a line returned her to the mind a meeting, unexpected, that same afternoon. A predestinate victim, that brought on the body an indelible sign of violence.
«What it has in body Rita?»
«Nothing that its body cannot bear.»
«You have injected him/it to him in the abdomen, it is not true? You have replaced his/her liquid with that stuff.» It still found the strength to get angry himself/herself/themselves.
«No. For now its liquid is alone integrated by some component ones of our product.» Pezzali sustained with steadiness the frightened look of the young one in front of him. You/he/she would have infused her safety and courage, if only she had accepted to trust himself/herself/themselves. «Helen, doesn't have to fear for her. We am not that hypocrites that, to preserve the integrity of an agglomeration of cells defined human being, attacks furiously also without pity on an alive beast, able to suffer the pain and the fear as whoever of us. Any primate will suffer for our job. And however, what you see is not destined to be infused in any living being.»
In any living being. A forewaters without an abdomen to welcome him/it.
And the horrendous monsters that this image involved started to already stack helter-skelter him in a mind enough tried.
«But then thing.» it didn't end the sentence. It didn't end of it more some.
Pezzali approached to a wall, it premises some pulsating ones, a gesture that Helen started to detest. A black panel slipped in the bowel of the ground. The seal broken of a vase of Pandora.
Over it, the grisly exposure of the fruit of the sin more detested by the Old one. The fruit of the violated tree had decayed by now.
Transparent Cilindretti, tall about thirty centimeters, illuminated as soon as from lamps alogenes, allowed to see to their inside of the animals. Incomplete animals, fetuses of those that seemed mice, vaguely floated in a boiling watery soup. From their abdomen, a curled cord lowered toward the fund of the container losing himself/herself/itself to its base.
Helen remembered the collections of preserved beings in formalin or under spirit that in an academic life you/he/she had had the opportunity of observing. But those were mice. Mice you don't complete, mice escaped to the maternal abdomen for the sollazzo of crazy scientists. Or had not that mice ever known a maternal abdomen?
«Approached, doctor Sastri.»
The creature had the closed eyes. Those of Helen were opened wide instead, the muscles of the face you bargain over, the tense neck. It observed the mouse, it observed his cradle him in the liquid that protected him/it.
«There is foul smell of death, here.»
It observed the zampines, shoals and wrinkled as fragile twigs.
«No, small dear. It is the perfume of the life.»
The leg contracted him. Two, three winces. The monster had stirred.
He/she wanted to stir, he/she wanted to live. It is to his to appear to the world, you/he/she would have called mother a plastic piece and God an old suit of a white white uniform.
Tottering, Helen went for a stroll back. You placed side by side to Charles Pezzali casting him a glance of scorn.
It turned the back to everything and everybody and it ran away.
Soon the laboratory and his/her nighttime custodian were to the shoulders and of the sardonic one «I had told You him» that Anthony Cos
ta turned to Pezzali it didn't even have the sign.
You removed the white uniform throwing him/it to earth, taken the elevator and it returned in surface. Blustering with the shoes without reservedness, it reached the exit. And there he stopped.
The doors were open and from the outside gusts of icy and damp air numbed her the body, blowing their cruelty on the shoulders left open by the evening gown.
It poured and the reproaches of the distant thunders were a threatening voice that the footstep blocked her.
Helen was alone. The whole servant the it lifted him against.
Frantic hiccups started to squassarla, and desperate tears crowded to her eyes.
Once more exhausted, humiliated, impotent.
It is not this the destiny of a queen, my Daughter. You stop running away and you ascend to the throne that I have reserved you. It accepts the regal mantle.
On the shoulders, without she could refuse him/it, the a dark jacket now abandoned him. Charles Pezzali had reached her and without saying nothing you/he/she had covered her to preserve her/it from the cold. And he/she now watched over her/it silent.
The hiccups transformed soon him in prayers.
«Where I go?» it invoked desperate. «Where I can ever go?»
«I bring you home» the companion announced her, calm and sure as a thoughtful father.
It pushed down gently her from the steps, encircling her/it with the hands to protect her/it. The rain meanwhile you/he/she was drenching both.
It brought back her to the car, opening her door and leaving that it huddled him on the seat.
This way it conducted her/it to house, without more to upset only also her with a word along the journey. The sleep, would have allowed only now her to recover himself/herself/themselves.
«You sleep, Helen» it told once only her destination. You didn't succeed in turning himself/herself/themselves toward of his/her caressing exhortations and he they slipped her I set, licking up her as soon as the distracted ears. «You sleep more than you are able. Don't grant to your fears to destroy you. And tomorrow, not to show up you for the job. I will think me about everything. You sleep, small dear. Never as in this night your rest is deserved.»
Helen would never have gone down but a desperate tiredness pushed her/it out of the car.
It faded away without more to turn himself/herself/themselves, sfiancata in the mind and in the body from a work never even imagined.
Bad Invisible Teachers Page 16
