No Headings. It Is Impossible!
I was alone in the endless corridors. In those same corridors.... A
mute, concrete sky. Water was dripping somewhere upon a stone. The
familiar heavy opaque door,--and the subdued noise from behind it.
She said she would come out at sixteen sharp. It was already five
minutes, then ten, then fifteen past sixteen. No one appeared. For a
second I was my former self, horrified at the thought that the door
might open.
"Five minutes more, and if she does not come out...."
Water was dripping somewhere upon a stone. No one about. With
melancholy pleasure I felt: "saved," and slowly I turned and walked
back along the corridor. The trembling dots of the small lamps on
the ceiling became dimmer and dimmer. Suddenly a quick rattle of a
door behind me. Quick steps, softly echoing from the ceiling and the
walls. It was she, light as a bird, panting somewhat from running.
"I knew you would be here, you would come! I knew you,--you...."
The spears of her eyelashes moved apart to let me in and ... how can
I describe what effect that ancient, absurd and wonderful rite has
upon me when her lips touch mine? Can I find a formula to express
that whirlwind which sweeps out of my soul everything, everything
save her? Yes, yes from my _soul_. You may laugh at me if you will.
She made an effort to raise her eyelids and her slow words too came
with an effort:
"No. Now we must go."
The door opened. Old, worn steps. An unbearably multicolored noise,
whistling and light....
* * * * *
Twenty-four hours have passed since then and everything seems to
have settled in me, yet it is most difficult for me to find words
for even an approximate description.... It is as though a bomb had
exploded in my head.... Open mouths, wings, shouts, leaves, words,
stones, all these one after another in a heap....
I remember my first thought was: "Fast--back!" For it was clear
to me that while I was waiting there in the corridors, _they_
somehow had blasted and destroyed the Green Wall, and from behind it
everything rushed in and splashed over our city which until then had
been kept clean of that lower world. I must have said something of
this sort to I-330. She laughed.
"No, we have simply come out _beyond the Green Wall_."
Then I opened my eyes, and close to me, actually, I saw those very
things which until then not a single living Number had ever seen
otherwise than depreciated a thousand times, dimmed and hazy through
the cloudy glass of the Wall.
The Sun,--it was no longer our light, evenly diffused over the
mirror surface of the pavements; it seemed an accumulation of living
fragments, of incessantly oscillating, dizzy spots which blinded
the eyes. And the trees! Like candles rising into the very sky,
or like spiders which squatted upon the earth, supported by their
clumsy paws, or like mute green fountains. And all this was moving,
jumping, rustling. Under my feet some strange little ball was
crawling.... I stood as though rooted to the ground. I was unable to
take a step because under my foot there was not an even plane, but
(imagine!), something disgustingly soft, yielding, living, springy,
green!...
I was dazed; I was strangled,--yes, strangled; it is the best word
to express my state. I stood holding fast with both hands to a
swinging branch.
"It is nothing. It is all right. It is natural,--for the first time.
It will pass. Courage!"
At I-330's side bouncing dizzily on a green net,--someone's thinnest
profile, cut out of paper. No, not "someone's." I recognized him. I
remembered. It was the doctor. I understood everything very clearly.
I realized that they both caught me beneath the arms and laughingly
dragged me forward. My legs twisted and glided.... Terrible noise,
cawing, stumps, yelling, branches, tree-trunks, wings, leaves,
whistling....
The trees ran apart. A bright clearing. In the clearing, people, or
perhaps to be more exact, _beings_. Now comes the most difficult
part to describe for _this_ was beyond any bounds of probability. It
is clear to me now why I-330 was stubbornly silent about it before;
I should not have believed it, should not have believed even her. It
is even possible that tomorrow I shall not believe myself, shall not
believe my own description in these pages.
In the clearing, around a naked, skull-like rock,--a noisy crowd
of three or four hundred ... people. Well, let's call them people.
I find it difficult to coin new words. Just as on the stands
you recognize in the general accumulation of faces only those
which are familiar to you, so at first I recognized only our
grayish-blue unifs. But one second later and I saw distinctly and
clearly among the unifs dark, red, golden, black, brown and white
humans--apparently they were humans. None of them had any clothes
on, and their bodies were covered with short, glistening hair, like
that which may be seen on the stuffed horse in the Prehistoric
Museum. But their females had faces exactly, yes exactly, like
the faces of our women: tender, rosy and not overgrown with hair.
Also their breasts were free of hair, firm breasts of wonderful
geometrical form. As to the males, only a part of their faces were
free from hair, like our ancestors', and the organs of reproduction,
similar to ours.
All this was so unbelievable, so unexpected, that I stood there
quietly (I assert positively that I stood quietly), and looked
around. Like a scale: overload one side sufficiently and then you
may gently put on the other as much as you will; the arrow will not
move.
Suddenly I felt alone. I-330 was no longer with me. I don't know how
nor where she disappeared. Around me were only _those_, with their
hair glistening like silk in the sunlight. I caught someone's warm,
strong, dark shoulder.
"Listen, please, in the name of the Well-Doer, could you tell me
where she went? A while, a minute ago she...."
Long-haired, austere eyebrows turned to me.
"Sh ... sh ... silence!" He made a sign with his head towards the
centre where there stood the yellow, skull-like stone.
There above the heads of all I saw her. The sun beat straight into
my eyes, and because of that she seemed coal-black, standing out
on the blue cloth of the sky,--a coal-black silhouette on a blue
background. A little higher the clouds were floating. And it seemed
that not the clouds but the rock itself, and she herself upon that
rock, and the crowd and the clearing,--all were silently floating
like a ship, and the earth was light and glided away from under the
feet....
"Brothers!" (It was she.) "Brothers, you all know that there inside
the Wall, in the City, they are building the _Integral_. And you
know also that the day has come for us to destroy that Wall and all
other walls, so that the green wind may blow all over the earth,
from end to end. But the _Integral_ is going to take these walls
up into the heights to the thousands of other worlds which every
evening whisper to us with their lights through the black leaves of
night...."
Waves and foam and wind were beating the rock:
"Down with the _Integral!_ Down!"
"No, brothers, not 'down'. The _Integral_ must be ours. And it
_shall_ be ours. On the day when it first sets sail into the sky,
_we_ shall be on board. For the Builder of the _Integral_ is with
us. He left the walls, he came with me here in order to be with us.
Long live the Builder!"
A second--and I was somewhere above everything. Under me: heads,
heads, heads, wide open yelling mouths, arms rising and falling....
There was something strange and intoxicating in it all. I felt
myself _above everybody_; I was,--I,--a separate world; I ceased to
be the usual item; I became unity....
Again I was below, near the rock, my body happy, shaken and rumpled,
as after an embrace of love. Sunlight, voices, and from above--the
smile of I-330. A golden-haired woman, her whole body silky-golden
and diffusing an odor of different herbs, was near by. She held a
cup, apparently made of wood. She drank a little from it with her
red lips and then offered the cup to me. I closed my eyes and with
avidity I drank the sweet cold prickly sparks, pouring them down on
the fire which burned within me.
Soon afterward my blood and the whole world began to circulate a
thousand times faster; the earth seemed to be flying, light as down.
And within me everything was simple, light and clear. Only then
I noticed on the rock the familiar, enormous letters: M E P H I,
and for some reason the inscription seemed to me _necessary_. It
seemed to be a simple thread binding everything together. A rather
rough picture hewn in the rock; this too, seemed comprehensible;
it represented a youth with wings and with a transparent body, and
in the place ordinarily occupied by the heart,--a blinding, red,
blazing coal. Again, I understood that coal, or no, I _felt_ it as
I felt without hearing every word of I-330 (she continued to speak
from above, from the rock), and I felt that all of them breathed one
breath and that they were all ready to fly somewhere like the birds
over the Wall.
From behind, from the confusion of breathing bodies,--a loud voice:
"But this is folly!"
It seems to me it was I, yes, I am certain it was I, who then jumped
on the rock; from there I saw the sun, heads, a green sea on a blue
background, and I cried:
"Yes, yes, precisely. All must become insane; we must become insane
as soon as possible! We must; I know it."
I-330 was at my side. Her smile--two dark lines from the angles of
her mouth directed upward.... And within me a blazing coal. It was
momentary, light, a little painful, beautiful.... And later,--only
stray fragments that remained sticking in me....
... Very low and slowly a bird was moving. I saw it was living, like
me. It was turning its head now to the right and then to the left
like a human being, and its round black eyes screwed themselves into
me....
... Then: a human back glistening with fur the color of ancient
ivory;--a mosquito crawling on that back, a mosquito with tiny
transparent wings. The back twitched to chase the mosquito away; it
twitched again....
... And yet another thing: a shadow from the leaves, a woven,
net-like shadow. Some lay in that shadow, chewing something,
something similar to the legendary food of the ancients, a long
yellow fruit and a piece of something dark. They put some of it in
my hand, and it seemed droll to me for I did not know whether I
might eat it or not....
... And again: a crowd, heads, legs, arms, mouths, faces appearing
for a second and disappearing like bursting bubbles. For a second
appeared (or perhaps it was only an hallucination?) the transparent,
flying wing-ears....
With all my might I pressed the hand of I-330. She turned to me.
"What is the matter?"
"He is here! I thought, I--"
"Who?"
"S-, a second ago, in the crowd."
The ends of the thin coal-black, brows moved to the temples--a smile
like a sharp triangle. I could not see clearly why she smiled. How
could she smile?
"But you understand, I-330, don't you, you understand what it means
if he, or one of them is here?"
"You are funny! How could it ever enter the heads of those within
the Wall that we are here? Remember; take yourself. Did you ever
think it was possible? They are busy hunting us _there_,--let them!
You are delirious!"
Her smile was light and cheerful and I too, was smiling; the earth
was drunken, cheerful, light, floating....