Part 16 (2/2)
”Yes. There have been two. One invited me, as soon as I left the station, although not exactly like that. I got lost at that d.a.m.ned station. She took me home.”
”She knew who you were?”
”I told her. At first she was frightened, but later. . . advances of a sort -- out of pity or not, I don't know -- and then she got really scared. I went to a hotel. The next day. . . do you know who I met? Roemer!”
”Don't tell me! He must be, what, a hundred and seventy?”
”No, it was his son. Even so, the man is nearly a hundred and fifty. A mummy. Horrible. I talked with him. And you know what? He envies us. . .”
”There is nothing to envy.”
”He does not understand that. Although, yes, there is. And then an actress. They call them realists. She was delighted with me: a true pithecanthropus! I went to her place, and escaped the next day. It was a palace. Magnificent. Flowering furniture, moving walls, beds that read your thoughts and wishes. . . yes.”
”H'm. She wasn't afraid, eh?”
”No, she was afraid, but she drank something -- I don't know what it was, some narcotic, maybe. Perto, something like that.”
”Perto?”
”Yes. You know what it is? You've had it?”
”No,” he said slowly. ”I haven't. But that's the name of the thing that nullifies. . .”
”Betrization? No!”
”That's what the person told me.”
”Who?”
”I can't tell you; I gave my word.”
”All right. So that is why. . . that is why she. . .”
I broke off.
”Sit down.”
I sat.
”And what about you?” I said. ”Here I keep talking about myself. . .”
”Me? Nothing. That is -- nothing has worked out for me. Nothing. . .” he repeated.
I was silent.
”What is this place called?” he asked.
”Clavestra. But the town is actually a few kilometers away. Say, let's go there. I wanted to have the car repaired. We'll come back cross-country -- a little run. How about it?”
”Hal,” he said slowly, ”you old hothead. . .”
”What?”
His eyes were smiling.
”You think you can drive out the devil with athletics? You're an a.s.s.”
”Make up your mind, a hothead or an a.s.s,” I said. ”What's wrong with it?”
”It won't work. Did you ever touch one of them?”
”Did. . . did I offend one? No. Why?”
”No, did you touch one of them?”
Finally I understood.
”There was no reason to. Why do you ask?”
”Don't.”
”Why?”
”Because it's like striking an old woman. You understand?”
”More or less. You got into a fight?”
I tried not to show my surprise. Olaf had been one of the most self-controlled men on board.
”Yes. I made a perfect idiot of myself. It was on the first day. At night, to be exact. I couldn't get out of the post office -- there was no door, only a kind of spinning thing. Have you seen one?”
”A revolving door?”
”No. I think it has to do with their controlling gravitation. In short, I spun around like a top, and some character who was with a girl pointed at me and laughed. . .”
The skin on my face seemed to grow tighter.
”Old woman or not,” I said, ”he probably won't laugh any more.”
”No. He has a broken collarbone.”
”They didn't do anything to you?”
”No. Because I had just got out of the machine and he provoked me -- I didn't hit him right away, Hal. No, I asked what was so funny, since I had been away for so long, and he laughed again, pointing upward, and said, 'Ah, from that monkey circus?' ”
” 'Monkey circus'?”
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