Part 14 (2/2)
”Hear about what?”
”The eighty-six people you didn't kill.”
”Eighty-six? What are you talking about?”
”Two in that flat in Tel Aviv, eight on the highway, five in the lift, forty-three in the club....”
”What about them?”
”Didn't you kill them?”
”Nu, so?”
”Don't you think,” said the demon, and wiped his brow, ”that something isn't right here? Ever heard of 'Thou Shalt Not Kill'?”
”Dear G.o.d!” I said. ”You think we killed human beings?”
A wall made of recently annealed gla.s.s, and inside it darkening lumps. A strong smell of grilling and burning infuses the air. The lumps had stopped convulsing long before the gla.s.s solidified, of course. And now we stand there, and the recording films run again, and Huey approaches the wall, a giant hammer in his hands.
On the way from here to there, all three of us disappeared. One moment we were busy on the exact tuning of the recorder, and in the next, we weren't.
For one moment, everything stopped.
”Pa.s.s me his plate,” someone said to somebody else. ”I think he finished eating.”
”Say,” said someone, ”doesn't it strike you as odd...”
”What?” said someone.
”That he, like, disappeared?”
”No,” said the demon and blinked. He looked as if he needed gla.s.ses.
”Excuse me?” said someone.
”Not someone, sir,” said the demon. ”You.”
”Me?” said someone.
”You. You know perfectly well who you are,” said the demon.
”That's possible,” said Dewey, ”but what is it to you?”
”Thinking in the third person isn't going to help you.”
”Get off it,” I said.
”No,” said the demon. ”You've gone way too far. You're going to stop this moronic killing spree. Right now.”
”I think you have a small problem with your perception of reality.”
”I only have one problem,” said the demon, ”and it's you.”
”Leave me alone!”
”I can't,” said the demon. ”I'm a part of you.”
”Now I know you have a problem with your perception of reality.”
”I really don't,” said the demon. ”And not just that: you, along with me, are stuck in the loop.”
”There's something to your twisted logic,” I said. ”But there you go.”
”You're not right,” said the demon.
”Don't exaggerate,” I said. ”I did a very nice job with the wall today. Doing is everything.”
”Wait!” said the demon. ”There you go again! That's not what I meant!”
”Don't be a pain,” I said. ”Let me finish off here.”
And I went.
A skysc.r.a.per in napalm. Billboards burning in the wind. ”What You See Is What You Get--Nokia.”
And was brought back.
”You're not going anywhere,” said the demon. ”You're staying here with me to the end.”
”The end?”
”Yes. Until you realise you're one, not three, and stop getting out of control.”
”Of course I'm one,” I said. ”I never thought otherwise. And I'm not out of control.”
”A hundred and two victims would testify otherwise.”
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