When they reached the highest peak, Nathan Stack looked across through the terrible burning cold and the ferocious grittiness of the demon wind and saw the sanctuary of always, the cathedral of forever, the pillar of remembrance, the haven of perfection, the pyramid of blessings, the toyshop of creation, the vault of deliverance, the monument of longing, the receptacle of thoughts, the maze of wonder, the catafalque of despair, the podium of p.r.o.nouncements and the kiln of last attempts.
On a slope that rose to a star pinnacle, he saw the home of the one who dwelled here--lights flashing and flickering, lights that could be seen far off across the deserted face of the planet--and he began to suspect the name of the resident.
Suddenly everything went red for Nathan Stack. As though a filter had been dropped over his eyes, the black sky, the flickering lights, the rocks that formed the great plateau on which they stood, even Snake became red, and with the color came pain.
Terrible pain that burned through every channel of Stack"s body, as though his blood had been set afire. He screamed and fell to his knees, the pain crackling through his brain, following every nerve and blood vessel and ganglion and neural track. His skull flamed.
Fight him, Snake said. Fight him!
I can"t, screamed silently through Stack"s mind, the pain too great even to speak.
Fire licked and leaped and he felt the delicate tissue of thought shriveling. He tried to focus his thoughts on ice. He clutched for salvation at ice, chunks of ice, mountains of ice, swimming icebergs of ice half-buried in frozen water, even as his soul smoked and smoldered. Ice! He thought of millions of particles of hail rushing, falling, thundering against the firestorm eating his mind, and there was a spit of steam, a flame that went out, a corner that grew cool...and he took his stand in that corner, thinking ice, thinking blocks and chunks and monuments of ice, edging them out to widen the circle of coolness and safety. Then the flames began to retreat, to slide back down the channels, and he sent ice after them, snuffing them, burying them in ice and chill waters that raced after the flames and drove them out.
When he opened his eyes, he was still on his knees, but he could think again, and the red surfaces had become normal again.
He will try again. You must be ready.
"Tell me everything! I can"t go through this without knowing, I need help! Tell me, Snake, tell me now!"
You can help yourself. You have the strength. I gave you the spark.
...and the second derangement struck!
The air turned shavera.s.se and he held dripping chunks of unclean rova in his jowls, the taste making him weak with nausea. His pods withered and drew up into his sh.e.l.l and as the bones cracked he howled with strings of pain that came so fast they were almost one. He tried to scuttle away, but his eyes magnified the shatter of light that beat against him. Facets of his eyes cracked and the juice began to bubble out. The pain was unbelievable.
Fight him!
Stack rolled onto his back, sending out cilia to touch the earth, and for an instant he realized he was seeing through the eyes of another creature, another form of life he could not even describe. But he was under an open sky and that produced fear; he was surrounded by air that had become deadly and that produced fear; he was going blind and that produced fear; he was...he was a man...fought back against the feeling of being some other thing...he was a man and he would not feel fear, he would stand.
He rolled over, withdrew his cilia, and struggled to lower his pods. Broken bones grated and pain thundered through his body. He forced himself to ignore it, and finally the pods were down and he was breathing and he felt his head reeling....
And when he opened his eyes he was Nathan Stack again.
...and the third derangement struck: Hopelessness.
Out of unending misery he came back to be Stack.
...and the fourth derangement struck: Madness.
Out of raging lunacy he fought his way to be Stack.
...and the fifth derangement, and the sixth, and the seventh, and the plagues, and the whirlwinds, and the pools of evil, and the reduction in size and accompanying fall forever through submicroscopic h.e.l.ls, and the things that fed on him from inside, and the twentieth, and the fortieth, and the sound of his voice screaming for release, and the voice of Snake always beside him, whispering Fight him!
Finally it stopped.
Quickly. now.
Snake took Stack by the hand and, half-dragging him, raced to the great palace of light and gla.s.s on the slope, shining brightly under the star pinnacle, and they pa.s.sed under an arch of shining metal into the ascension hall. The portal sealed behind them.
There were tremors in the walls. The inlaid floors of jewels began to rumble and tremble. Bits of high and faraway ceilings began to drop. Quaking, the palace gave one hideous shudder and collapsed around them.
Now, Snake said. Now you will know everything! And everything forgot to fall. Frozen in midair, the wreckage of the palace hung suspended above them. Even the air ceased to swirl. Time stood still. The movement of the Earth was halted. Everything held utterly immobile as Nathan Stack was permitted to understand all.
19.
MULTIPLE CHOICE.
(Counts for your final grade.)
1. G.o.d is:
A. An invisible spirit with a long beard.
B. A small dog dead in a hole.
C. Everyman.
D. The Wizard of Oz.
2. Nietzsche wrote "G.o.d is dead." By this did he mean: A. Life is pointless.
B. Belief in supreme deities has waned.
C. There never was a G.o.d to begin with.
D. Thou art G.o.d.
3. Ecology is another name for: A. Mother love.
B. Enlightened self-interest.
C. A good health salad with granola.
D. G.o.d.
4. Which of these phrases most typifies the profoundest love: A. Don"t leave me with strangers.
B. I love you.
C. G.o.d is love.
D. Use the needle.
5. Which of these powers do we usually a.s.sociate with G.o.d: A. Power.
B. Love.
C. Humanity.
D. Docility.
20.
None of the above.
Starlight shone in the eyes of the Deathbird and its pa.s.sage through the night cast a shadow on the Moon.
21.
Nathan Stack raised his hands and around them the air was still, as the palace fell crashing. They were untouched. Now you know all there is to know, Snake said, sinking to one knee as though worshipping. There was no one there to worship but Nathan Stack.
"Was he always mad?"
From the first.
"Then those who gave our world to him were mad, and your race was mad to allow it."
Snake had no answer.
"Perhaps it was supposed to be like this," Stack said.
He reached down and lifted Snake to his feet, and he touched the shadow creature"s sleek triangular head. "Friend," he said.
Snake"s race was incapable of tears. He said, I have waited longer than you can know for that word.
"I"m sorry it comes at the end."
Perhaps it was supposed to be like this.
Then there was a swirling of air, a scintillation in the ruined palace, and the owner of the mountain, the owner of the ruined Earth came to them in a burning bush.
AGAIN, SNAKE? AGAIN YOU ANNOY ME?.
The time for toys is ended.
NATHAN STACK YOU BRING TO STOP ME? I SAY WHEN THE TIME IS.
ENDED. I SA Y, AS I"VE ALWAYS SAID.
Then, to Nathan Stack: GO AWAY. FIND A PLACE TO HIDE UNTIL I COME FOR YOU.
Stack ignored the burning bush. He waved his hand, and the cone of safety in which they stood vanished. "Let"s find him, first, then I know what to do."
The Deathbird sharpened its talons on the night wind and sailed down through emptiness toward the cinder of the Earth.
22.
Nathan Stack had once contracted pneumonia. He had lain on the operating table as the surgeon made the small incision in the chest wall. Had he not been stubborn, had he not continued working around the clock while the pneumonic infection developed into empyema, he would never have had to go under the knife, even for an operation as safe as a thoracotomy. But he was a Stack, and so he lay on the operating table as the rubber tube was inserted into the chest cavity to drain off the pus in the pleural cavity, and he heard someone speak his name.
NATHAN STACK.
He heard it, from far off, across an Arctic vastness; heard it echoing over and over, down an endless corridor; as the knife sliced.