Record Seventeen

I am puzzled. Yesterday, at the very moment when I thought everything was untangled, and that all the X’s were at last found, new unknowns appeared in my equation. The origin of the coordinates of the whole story is of course the Ancient Home. From this centre the axes of all the X’s, Y’s, and Z’s radiate, and recently they have entered into the formation of my whole life.

I am puzzled. Yesterday, I thought everything was sorted out and all the X’s had finally been found. But at that very moment, new unknowns appeared in my equation. The origin of the coordinates of the whole story is, of course, the Ancient Home. The axes of all the X’s, Y’s, and Z’s radiate from this center. Lately, they have come to shape my whole life.

I walked along the X-axis (Avenue 59) towards the centre. The whirlwind of yesterday still raged within me; houses and people upside down; my own hands torturingly foreign to me; glimmering scissors; the sharp sound of drops dripping from the faucet;—all this existed, all this existed once! All these things were revolving wildly, tearing my flesh, rotating wildly beneath the molten surface, there where the “soul” is located.

I walked along the X-axis (Avenue 59) toward the center. Yesterday’s whirlwind still raged inside me: houses and people upside down, my own hands painfully strange to me, glimmering scissors, the sharp sound of drops dripping from the faucet. All of this existed, all of this existed once! All these things spun wildly, tearing my flesh as they turned beneath the molten surface, where the “soul” is located.

In order to follow the instructions of the doctor I chose the road which followed not the hypotenuse but the two legs of a triangle. Soon I reached the road running along the Green Wall. From beyond the Wall, from the infinite ocean of green there rose toward me an immense wave of roots, branches, flowers, leaves. It rose higher and higher; it seemed as though it would splash over me and that from a man, from the finest and most precise mechanism which I am, I would be transformed into.... But fortunately there was the Green Wall between me and that wild green sea. Oh, how great and divinely limiting is the wisdom of walls and bars! This Green Wall is I think the greatest invention ever conceived. Man ceased to be a wild animal the day he built the first wall; man ceased to be a wild man only on the day when the Green Wall was completed, when by this wall we isolated our machine-like, perfect world from the irrational, ugly world of trees, birds and beasts....

To follow the doctor’s instructions, I took the road along the two legs of a triangle, not the hypotenuse. Soon I reached the road that ran along the Green Wall. Beyond the Wall lay an endless ocean of green. From it, a huge wave of roots, branches, flowers, and leaves rose toward me. The wave rose higher and higher. It seemed ready to splash over me and transform me into.... And I am a man, the finest and most precise mechanism. But fortunately, the Green Wall stood between me and that wild green sea. Oh, how great and divinely limiting is the wisdom of walls and bars! I think the Green Wall is the greatest invention ever conceived. Man stopped being a wild animal the day he built the first wall. Man stopped being a wild man only when the Green Wall was completed. With this wall, we separated our perfect, machine-like world from the irrational, ugly world of trees, birds, and beasts....

The blunt snout of some unknown beast was to be seen dimly through the glass of the Wall; its yellow eyes kept repeating the same thought which remained incomprehensible to me. We looked into each other’s eyes for a long while. Eyes are shafts which lead from the superficial world into a world which is beneath the surface. A thought awoke in me: “what if that yellow-eyed one, sitting there on that absurd dirty heap of leaves, is happier than I, in his life which cannot be calculated in figures!” I waved my hand. The yellow eyes twinkled, moved back and disappeared in the foliage. What a pitiful being! How absurd the idea that he might be happier! Happier than I he may be, but I am an exception, am I not? I am sick.

Through the glass of the Wall, I could dimly see the blunt snout of some unknown beast. Its yellow eyes kept repeating the same thought, one I could not understand. We looked into each other’s eyes for a long time. Eyes are shafts leading from the surface world into the world beneath it. A thought came to me: “What if that yellow-eyed creature, sitting there on that absurd, dirty heap of leaves, is happier than I am? What if he is happier in a life that cannot be calculated in figures!” I waved my hand. The yellow eyes twinkled, moved back, and disappeared into the foliage. What a pitiful creature! How absurd to think he might be happier! He may be happier than I am, but I am an exception, am I not? I am sick.

I noticed that I was approaching the dark red walls of the Ancient House and I saw the grown-together lips of the old woman. I ran to her with all speed.

I noticed I was approaching the dark red walls of the Ancient House. I saw the old woman’s fused lips and ran to her as fast as I could.

“Is she here?”

“Is she here?”

The grown-together lips opened slowly:

The lips that had grown together slowly opened:

“Who is ‘she’?”

“Who is ‘she’?”

“Who? I-330, of course. You remember we came together, she and I, in an aero the other day.”

“Who? I-330, of course. You remember she and I came together in an aero the other day.”

“Oh, yes, yes, yes,—yes.”

“Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes.”

Ray-wrinkles around the lips, artful rays radiating from the eyes. They were making their way deeper and deeper into me.

Rays of wrinkles around the lips, artful rays spreading from the eyes. They reached deeper and deeper into me.

“Well, she is here, all right. Came in a while ago.”

“Well, she’s here, all right. She came in a while ago.”

“Here!” I noticed at the feet of the old woman a bush of silver,—bitter wormwood. (The court of the Ancient House, being a part of the museum is carefully kept in its prehistoric state.) A branch of the bush touched the old woman, she caressed that branch; upon her knees lay stripes of sunshine. For a second I myself, the sun, the old woman, the wormwood, those yellow eyes, all seemed to be one; we were firmly united by common veins and one common blood, boisterous, magnificent blood, was running through those veins.

“Here!” At the old woman’s feet, I noticed a silvery bush of bitter wormwood. (The courtyard of the Ancient House is part of the museum and is carefully kept in its prehistoric state.) A branch touched the old woman, and she stroked it. Stripes of sunlight lay across her knees. For a second, I, the sun, the old woman, the wormwood, and those yellow eyes all seemed to be one. We were firmly joined by shared veins. The same wild, magnificent blood flowed through them all.

I am ashamed now to write down all this, but I promised to be frank to the end of these records: yes, I bent over and kissed that soft, grown-together mouth of the old woman. She wiped it with her hand and laughed.

I’m ashamed to write all this now. But I promised to be honest to the end of these records. Yes, I bent over and kissed the old woman’s soft, grown-together mouth. She wiped her mouth with her hand and laughed.

Running, I passed through familiar, half-dark, echoing rooms, and for some reason I ran straight to the bedroom. When I had reached the door, a thought flashed: “And if she is there ... not alone?” I stopped and listened. But all I heard was the tick-tock of my heart, not within me, but somewhere near, outside me.

I ran through familiar, dimly lit rooms that echoed around me. For some reason, I went straight to the bedroom. When I reached the door, a thought flashed through my mind: “What if she is there ... not alone?” I stopped and listened. But all I heard was the tick-tock of my heart. It seemed to be somewhere nearby, outside me, not within me.

I entered. The large bed,—untouched. A mirror ... another mirror in the door of the cupboard, and in the keyhole an ancient key upon an ancient ring. No one was there. I called softly: “I-330, are you here?”—and then in a still lower voice with closed eyes, holding my breath,—in a voice as though I were kneeling before her, “I-, dear.” Silence. Only the water was dripping fast into the white basin of the washstand. I cannot now explain why, but I disliked that sound. I turned the faucet hard and went out. She was not there, so much was clear. She must be in another “apartment.”

I entered. The large bed was untouched. A mirror ... another mirror in the cupboard door, and an old key on an old ring in the keyhole. No one was there. I called softly: “I-330, are you here?” Then I closed my eyes and held my breath. In an even lower voice, as if I were kneeling before her, I said, “I-, dear.” Silence. Only water dripped rapidly into the white basin of the washstand. I cannot explain now why I disliked the sound. I turned the faucet tight and went out. Clearly, she was not there. She must be in another “apartment.”

I ran down a wide, sombre stairway, pulled one door, another, a third,—locked. Every room was locked save that of “our” apartment. And she was not there. I went back again to the same apartment without knowing why. I walked slowly, with difficulty; my shoe-soles suddenly became as heavy as cast-iron. I remember distinctly my thought, “It is a mistake that the force of gravity is a constant; consequently all my formulae....”

I ran down a wide, dark staircase and tried one door, then another, then a third. They were locked. Every room was locked except “our” apartment. And she was not there. I went back to the same apartment without knowing why. I walked slowly, with difficulty. The soles of my shoes had suddenly become as heavy as cast iron. I clearly remember thinking, “It is a mistake to say that the force of gravity is constant. So all my formulas....”

Suddenly—an explosion! A door slammed down below; some one stamped quickly over the flagstones. I again became lightfooted, extremely light! I dashed to the railing to bend over, and in one word, one exclamation, expressed everything: “You!”

Suddenly, an explosion! A door slammed downstairs. Someone’s feet pounded quickly over the flagstones. I felt light on my feet again, incredibly light! I dashed to the railing and leaned over. In one word, one exclamation, I expressed everything: “You!”

I became cold. Below in the square shadow of the window-frame, flapping its pink wing-ears, the head of S- passed by!

I felt cold. Below, in the square shadow of the window frame, S-'s head passed by, its pink winglike ears flapping!

Like lightning I saw only the naked conclusion. Without any premises (I don’t recall any premises even now) the conclusion: he must not see me here! And on the tips of my toes, pressing myself against the wall, I sneaked upstairs into the unlocked apartment.

In a flash, I saw only the bare conclusion. There were no premises (I still don’t remember any). The conclusion was: he must not see me here! Pressing myself against the wall, I crept upstairs on tiptoe into the unlocked apartment.

I stopped for a second at the door. He was stamping upward, here. If only the door.... I prayed to the door but it was a wooden one,—It squeaked, it squealed. Like a wind something red passed my eyes, something green, and the yellow Buddha. In front of the mirror-door of the cupboard, my pale face; my ears still following those steps, my lips.... Now he was already passing the green and yellow, now he was passing Buddha, now at the doorsill of the bedroom....

I stopped for a second at the door. He was stomping up toward me. If only the door.... I prayed to the door, but it was wooden. It creaked and squealed. Something red flashed past my eyes like the wind, then something green, and the yellow Buddha. In the mirror on the cupboard door, I saw my pale face. My ears still followed those footsteps, my lips.... Now he was already passing the green and yellow, now he was passing Buddha, now he was at the bedroom doorway....

I grasped the key of the cupboard; the ring oscillated. This oscillation reminded me of something. Again a conclusion, a naked conclusion without premises; a conclusion, or to be more exact, a fragment of one: “Now I-330 is....” I brusquely opened the cupboard and when inside in the darkness shut the door firmly. One step! The floor shook under my feet. Slowly and softly I floated somewhere downward; my eyes were dimmed,—I died!

I grabbed the cupboard key, and the ring swung. The swinging reminded me of something. Once again, I had a bare conclusion with no reasoning behind it. Or, more precisely, a fragment of a conclusion: “Now I-330 is....” I abruptly opened the cupboard, stepped inside, and firmly shut the door behind me in the darkness. One step! The floor shook under my feet. Slowly and softly, I floated downward, somewhere. My vision dimmed. I died!

Later when I sat down to describe all these adventures, I sought in my memory and consulted some books; and now I understand, of course! I was in a state of temporary death. This state was known to the ancients, but as far as I am informed it is unknown to us. I have no conception of how long I was dead, probably not longer than five or ten seconds, but after awhile I arose from the dead and opened my eyes. It was dark. But I felt I was falling down—down—down. I stretched out my hand to attach myself to something but the rough wall scratched my fingers; it was running away from me, upward. I felt blood on my fingers. It was clear that all this was not merely a play of my sick imagination. But what was it? What?

Later, when I sat down to describe all these adventures, I searched my memory and consulted some books. And now I understand, of course! I was in a state of temporary death. The ancients knew about this state, but as far as I know, we do not. I have no idea how long I was dead, probably no more than five or ten seconds. But after a while, I came back from the dead and opened my eyes. It was dark. But I felt myself falling down, down, down. I reached out to grab something, but the rough wall scratched my fingers. The wall was rushing away from me, upward. I felt blood on my fingers. Clearly, all this was not just a product of my sick imagination. But what was it? What?

I heard my own frequent, trembling breaths. (I am not ashamed to confess this, it was all unexpected and incomprehensible.) A minute, two, three passed; I was still going down. Then a soft bump. The thing that had been falling away from under my feet was motionless. I found in the darkness a knob, and turned it; a door opened; there was a dim light. I now noticed behind me a square platform, travelling upward. I tried to run back to it but it was too late. “I am cut off here,” I thought. Where “here” might be, I did not know.

I heard my own quick, trembling breaths. (I am not ashamed to admit this. Everything was unexpected and impossible to understand.) One minute, then two, then three passed. I was still going down. Then came a soft bump. The thing that had been falling away beneath my feet stopped moving. In the darkness, I found a knob and turned it. A door opened, and there was a dim light. I now noticed a square platform rising behind me. I tried to run back to the platform, but it was too late. “I am cut off here,” I thought. I did not know where “here” was.

A corridor. A heavy silence. The small lamps on the vaulted ceiling resembled an endless, twinkling, dotted line. The corridor was similar to the “tube” of our underground railways but it was much narrower, and made not of our glass but of some other, very ancient material. For a moment I thought of the underground caves where they say many tried to save themselves during the Two Hundred Years’ War. There was nothing to do but to walk ahead.

A corridor. A heavy silence. Small lamps on the vaulted ceiling looked like an endless, twinkling dotted line. The corridor was like the “tube” of our underground railways, but much narrower. It was made not of our glass but of some other, very ancient material. For a moment, I thought of the underground caves where, they say, many tried to save themselves during the Two Hundred Years’ War. There was nothing to do but walk on.

I walked, I think, for about twenty minutes. A turn to the right, the corridor became wider, the small lamps brighter. There was a dim droning somewhere.... Was it a machine or voices? I did not know. I stood before a heavy, opaque door, from behind which came the noise. I knocked. Then I knocked again, louder. Now there was silence behind the door. Something clanked; the door opened slowly and heavily.

I think I walked for about twenty minutes. I turned right, and the corridor grew wider and the small lamps brighter. Somewhere, I heard a faint drone.... Was it a machine or voices? I didn't know. I stood in front of a heavy, solid door. The noise came from behind it. I knocked. Then I knocked again, louder. Now it was silent behind the door. Something clanked, and the door opened slowly and heavily.

I don’t know which of us was the more dumbfounded; the thin blade-like doctor stood before me!

I don’t know which of us was more shocked. The thin, blade-like doctor stood in front of me!

“You here!” his scissors opened and remained open.

“You’re here!” His scissors opened and stayed open.

And I, as if I did not know a human word, stood silent, merely stared, without comprehending that he was talking to me. He must have told me to leave, for with his thin paper stomach he slowly pressed me to the side, to the more brightly lighted end of the corridor and poked me in the back.

I stood there silently, as if I didn’t know a single human word. I just stared, not understanding that he was talking to me. He must have told me to leave. With his thin paper stomach, he slowly pushed me aside, toward the brighter end of the corridor, and poked me in the back.

“Beg your pardon ... I wanted ... I thought that she, I-330 ... but behind me....”

“Sorry ... I wanted ... I thought she, I-330 ... but behind me....”

“Stay where you are,” said the doctor brusquely, and he disappeared.

“Stay where you are,” the doctor said sharply. Then he disappeared.

At last! At last she was nearby, here, and what did it matter where “here” was? I saw the familiar saffron-yellow silk, the smile-bite, the eyes with their curtains drawn.... My lips quivered, so did my hands and knees, and I had a most stupid thought: “Vibrations make sounds. Shivering must make a sound. Why then don’t I hear it?”

At last! At last she was close by, here. And what did it matter where “here” was? I saw the familiar saffron-yellow silk, the smile-bite, the eyes with their curtains drawn.... My lips, hands, and knees trembled. I had a really stupid thought: “Vibrations make sounds. Shivering must make a sound. So why can’t I hear it?”

Her eyes opened for me widely. I entered into them.

Her eyes opened wide for me. I entered them.

“I could not ... any longer!... Where have you been?... Why?...”

“I couldn't ... anymore!... Where have you been?... Why?...”

I was unable to tear my eyes away from her for a second, and I talked as if in a delirium, fast and incoherently, or perhaps I only thought without speaking out: “A shadow ... behind me. I died. And from the cupboard.... Because that doctor of yours ... speaks with his scissors.... I have a soul ... incurable ... and I must walk....”

I couldn't take my eyes off her for a second. I spoke as if delirious, fast and incoherently. Or perhaps I only thought the words without saying them: “A shadow ... behind me. I died. And from the cupboard.... Because that doctor of yours ... speaks with his scissors.... I have a soul ... incurable ... and I must walk....”

“An incurable soul? My poor boy!” I-330 laughed. She covered me with the sparkles of her laughter; my delirium left me. Everywhere around her little laughs were sparkling! How good it was!

“An incurable soul? My poor boy!” I-330 laughed. The sparkles of her laughter covered me, and my delirium faded. Little laughs sparkled all around her! How wonderful it was!

The doctor reappeared from around the turn, the wonderful, magnificent, thinnest doctor.

The doctor came back around the bend, the wonderful, magnificent, very thin doctor.

“Well?” He was already beside her.

“Well?” He was already beside her.

“Oh, nothing, nothing. I shall tell you later. He got here by accident. Tell them that I shall be back in about a quarter of an hour.”

“Oh, nothing, nothing. I’ll tell you later. He got here by accident. Tell them I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes.”

The doctor slid around the corner. She lingered. The door closed with a heavy thud. Then slowly, very slowly, piercing my heart with a sharp sweet needle, I-330 pressed against me with her shoulder and then with her arm, with her whole body, and we walked away as if fused into one.

The doctor slipped around the corner. She lingered. The door closed with a heavy thud. Then, slowly, very slowly, I-330 pressed her shoulder against me, then her arm, then her whole body. It was like a sharp, sweet needle piercing my heart. We walked away as if fused into one.

I do not remember now where we turned into darkness; in the darkness we walked up some endless stairway in silence. I did not see but I knew, I knew that she walked as I did, with closed eyes, blind, her head thrown a little backward, biting her lips and listening to the music, that is to say, to my almost audible tremor.

I no longer remember where we entered the darkness. We climbed an endless staircase in silence. I could not see her, but I knew, I knew she was walking as I was. Her eyes were closed, and she was blind, with her head tilted slightly back. She was biting her lips and listening to the music, which was my almost audible trembling.

I returned to consciousness in one of the innumerable nooks in the courtyard of the Ancient House. There was a fence of earth with naked stone ribs and yellow teeth of walls half fallen to pieces. She opened her eyes and said, “Day-after-tomorrow at sixteen.” She was gone.

I came to in one of the countless corners of the Ancient House courtyard. An earthen fence stood there, with bare stone ribs and the yellow teeth of half-ruined walls. She opened her eyes and said, “The day after tomorrow at sixteen.” She was gone.

Did all this really happen? I do not know. I shall learn day-after-tomorrow. One real sign remains: on my right hand the skin has been rubbed from the tips of three fingers. But today, on the Integral the Second Builder assured me that he saw me touch the polishing wheel with those very same fingers. Perhaps I did. It is quite probable. I don’t know. I don’t know anything.

Did all this really happen? I don’t know. I’ll find out the day after tomorrow. One real sign remains: the skin has been rubbed off the tips of three fingers on my right hand. But today, on the Integral, the Second Builder assured me that he saw me touch the polishing wheel with those same fingers. Perhaps I did. It’s quite probable. I don’t know. I don’t know anything.