Record Sixteen

I have not written for several days, for I don’t know how many. All my days are alike. All are of one color,—yellow like dry, overheated sand. Not a patch of shade, not a drop of water, only an infinity of yellow sand. I cannot live without her, but she, since she disappeared that day so mysteriously in the Ancient House....

I haven’t written for days. I don’t know how many. All my days are alike. They’re all one color, yellow like dry, overheated sand. No patch of shade, no drop of water, only endless yellow sand. I can’t live without her, but she, since she disappeared so mysteriously that day in the Ancient House....

Since that time I have seen her only once, during the hour for the Walk, two, three, four days ago, I do not remember exactly. All my days are alike. She only passed swiftly by and for a second filled up the yellow, empty world. With her, arm in arm, reaching not higher than her shoulder, were the double-curved S- and the thin papery doctor, and a fourth person whose fingers only I remember well; they streamed out, those fingers, from the sleeve of the unif like a bundle of rays, uncommonly thin, white, long. I-330 raised her hand and waved to me, then she bent toward the one with the ray-like fingers, over the head of S-. I overheard the word Integral. All four turned around to look at me,—and then they disappeared in the bluish-gray sea and my road was once more dry and yellow.

Since then, I have seen her only once, during the hour for the Walk. It was two, three, or four days ago. I do not remember exactly. All my days are alike. She passed quickly by, and for a second she filled the empty, yellow world. Arm in arm with her were the double-curved S- and the thin, papery doctor. They reached no higher than her shoulder. There was a fourth person too, but I remember only the fingers clearly. They streamed from the sleeve of the unif like a bundle of rays, unusually thin, white, and long. I-330 raised her hand and waved to me. Then she bent over S-'s head toward the person with the ray-like fingers. I overheard the word Integral. All four turned to look at me, then disappeared into the bluish-gray sea. My road was dry and yellow once more.

That same evening she had a pink check on me. I stood before the switchboard and with hatred and tenderness I implored it to click and soon to show the number I-330. I would jump out into the hall at every sound of the elevator. The door of the latter would open heavily. Pale, tall, blonde and dark they would come out of the elevator, and here and there curtains were falling.... But she was not there. She did not come. And it is quite possible that now, at this minute, as I write these lines, at twenty-two o’clock exactly, with her eyes closed, she is pressing her shoulder against somebody else in the same way and in the same way she may be asking someone: “Do you love me?” Whom? Who is he? That one with ray-like fingers or that thick-lipped, sprinkling R-? Or S-? S-! Why is it that I have heard his steps splashing behind me as though in a ditch all these days? Why has he been following me all these days like a shadow? Ahead of me, to my side, behind me, a grayish-blue, two-dimensional shadow; people cross it, people step on it but it remains nearby, attached to me by unseen ties. Perhaps that tie is I-330. I do not know. Or perhaps they, the Guardians I mean, already know that I ...

That same evening, she had a pink check for me. I stood before the switchboard and begged it, with hatred and tenderness, to click and show I-330 soon. At every sound from the elevator, I would jump out into the hall. The elevator door would open heavily. Pale, tall, blonde and dark people would come out, and here and there curtains would fall.... But she was not there. She did not come. And it is quite possible that now, at this minute, as I write these lines, at exactly twenty-two o’clock, her eyes are closed. She is pressing her shoulder against somebody else in the same way. And in the same way she may be asking someone: “Do you love me?” Whom? Who is he? The one with ray-like fingers, or that thick-lipped, sprinkling R-? Or S-? S-! Why have I heard his steps splashing behind me all these days, as though in a ditch? Why has he been following me all these days like a shadow? Ahead of me, beside me, behind me, a grayish-blue, two-dimensional shadow. People cross it, people step on it, but it stays close, attached to me by unseen ties. Perhaps that tie is I-330. I do not know. Or perhaps they, the Guardians, I mean, already know that I ...

If some one should tell you your shadow sees you, sees you all the time, would you understand? All at once peculiar sensations arise in you; your arms seem to belong to someone else, they are in the way. That is how I feel; very frequently now I notice how absurdly I wave my hands without any rhythm. I have an irresistible desire to glance behind me but I am unable to do so, my neck might as well be forged of iron. I flee, I run faster and faster, and even with my back I feel that shadow following me as fast as I can run, and there is no place to hide myself, no place!

If someone told you that your shadow could see you, that it watched you all the time, would you understand? Suddenly, you feel strange. Your arms seem to belong to someone else. They get in the way. That is how I feel. Now I often notice how absurdly I wave my hands, with no rhythm at all. I desperately want to look behind me, but I cannot. My neck might as well be made of iron. I flee, running faster and faster. Even with my back, I can feel the shadow following me as fast as I can run. There is nowhere to hide, nowhere!

At length I reach my room. Alone at last! But here I find another thing, the telephone. I pick up the receiver. “Yes, I-330 please.” And again I hear a light noise through the receiver; some one’s step in the hall there, passing the door of her room, and—silence.... I drop the receiver. I cannot, cannot bear it any longer, and I run to see her!

At last I reach my room. Alone at last! But there is something else here, the telephone. I pick up the receiver. “Yes, I-330 please.” Again, I hear a faint sound through the receiver. Someone is walking down the hall past her door. Then silence.... I drop the receiver. I cannot, cannot bear it any longer, and I run to see her!

This happened yesterday. I ran there and for a whole hour from sixteen to seventeen I wandered near the house in which she lives. Numbers were passing by in rows. Thousands of feet were beating the time like a behemoth with a million legs passing by. I was alone, thrown out by a storm on an uninhabited island, and my eyes were seeking and seeking among the grayish-blue waves. “There soon,” I thought, “will appear from somewhere the sharp mocking angles of the brows lifted to the temples, and the dark window-eyes, and there behind them a flaming fireplace and someone’s shadow.... And I will rush straight in behind those windows and say to her, ‘Thou’ (yes, ‘thou’ without fail), ‘Thou knowest I cannot live without thee any longer, then why— ...?’” But silence reigned.

This happened yesterday. I ran there and wandered near her house for a whole hour, from sixteen to seventeen. Numbers passed by in rows. Thousands of feet beat time, like a behemoth with a million legs passing by. I was alone, thrown by a storm onto an uninhabited island. My eyes searched and searched among the grayish-blue waves. “Soon,” I thought, “the sharp, mocking angles of her brows, raised toward her temples, will appear from somewhere. And her dark, window-like eyes. Behind them will be a blazing fireplace and someone’s shadow.... And I will rush straight in through those windows and say to her, ‘You’ (yes, I will call her ‘you’ for sure). ‘You know I can’t live without you any longer, so why...?’” But silence reigned.

Suddenly I heard the silence; suddenly I heard the Musical Tower silenced, and I understood! It was after seventeen already; every one had already left. I was alone. It was too late to return home. Around me,—a desert made of glass and bathed with yellow sunshine. I saw, as if in water, the reflection of the walls in the glass smoothness of the street, sparkling walls, hanging upside down. Myself also upside down, hanging absurdly in the glass.

Suddenly I heard the silence. Suddenly I heard that the Musical Tower had fallen silent, and I understood! It was already past seventeen. Everyone had left. I was alone. It was too late to go home. Around me was a desert of glass, bathed in yellow sunlight. In the smooth glass of the street, I saw the sparkling walls reflected upside down, as if in water. I too hung upside down in the glass, looking absurd.

“I must go at once, this very second, to the Medical Bureau or else ... or perhaps this would be best: to remain here, to wait quietly until they see me and come and take me into the Operation Department and put an end to everything at once, redeem everything....” A slight rustle! and the double-curved S- was before me. Without looking I felt his two gray steel-drill eyes bore quickly into me. I plucked up all my strength to show a smile and to say (I had to say something), “I, I must go to the Medical Bureau.”

“I must go to the Medical Bureau right now, this very second, or else ... or perhaps this would be best: stay here and wait quietly until they see me. Then they will come and take me to the Operation Department. They will put an end to everything at once and redeem everything....” A faint rustle! The double-curved S- stood before me. Without looking, I felt his two gray eyes bore quickly into me like steel drills. I gathered all my strength to smile and say something. I had to say something. “I, I must go to the Medical Bureau.”

“Who is detaining you? What are you standing here for?”

“Who is keeping you? Why are you standing here?”

I was silent, absurdly hanging upside down.

I said nothing, hanging upside down like a fool.

“Follow me,” said S- austerely.

“Follow me,” S- said sternly.

I followed obediently, waving my unnecessary, foreign arms. I could not raise my eyes. I walked through a strange world turned upside down, where people had their feet pasted to the ceilings, and where engines stood with their bases upward, and where, still lower, the sky merged in the heavy glass of the pavement. I remember what pained me most was the fact that looking at the world for the last time in my life, I should see it upside down rather than in its natural state; but I could not raise my eyes.

I followed obediently, waving my useless, foreign arms. I could not lift my eyes. I walked through a strange world turned upside down. People had their feet stuck to the ceilings, and engines stood with their bases pointing up. Still lower, the sky blended into the thick glass of the pavement. What hurt most, I remember, was that I was seeing the world upside down for the last time in my life. I wanted to see it as it normally was, but I could not lift my eyes.

We stopped. Steps. One step ... and I should see the figures of the doctors in their white aprons and the enormous dumb Bell.

We stopped. Footsteps. One more step ... and I would see the doctors in their white aprons and the enormous silent Bell.

With force, with some sort of an inner screw, at length I succeeded in tearing my eyes away from the glass beneath my feet, and I noticed the golden letters, “Medical Bureau.” Why did he bring me here rather than to the Operation Department? Why did he spare me?—about this I did not even think at that moment. I made one jump over all the steps, firmly closed the door behind me and took a very deep breath, as if I had not breathed since morning and as if my heart had not beaten for the same length of time, as if only now I started to breathe and only now there opened a sluice in my chest....

With effort, as if turning some kind of inner screw, I finally tore my eyes away from the glass beneath my feet. I noticed the golden letters, “Medical Bureau.” Why had he brought me here instead of to the Operation Department? Why had he spared me? I did not even think about those questions at the time. I leaped over all the steps in one jump, shut the door firmly behind me, and took a very deep breath. It was as if I had not breathed or my heart had not beaten since morning. It was as if I had only just begun to breathe, and a sluice had only just opened in my chest....

Inside there were two of them, one a short specimen with heavy legs, his eyes like the horns of a bull tossing the patients up, the other extremely thin with lips like sparkling scissors, a nose like a blade—it was the same man who ... I ran to him as to a dear friend, straight over close to the blade, and muttered something about insomnia, dreams, shadows, yellow sand. The scissors-lips sparkled and smiled.

Inside were two men. One was short, with heavy legs. His eyes were like a bull’s horns, tossing the patients into the air. The other was extremely thin, with lips like sparkling scissors and a nose like a blade. He was the same man who ... I ran to him as if he were a dear friend, right up to that blade of a nose. I muttered something about insomnia, dreams, shadows, and yellow sand. His scissor-like lips sparkled and smiled.

“Yes, it is too bad. Apparently a soul has formed in you.”

“Yes, it is too bad. Apparently, you have developed a soul.”

A soul?—that strange ancient word that was forgotten long ago....

A soul? That strange, ancient word, forgotten long ago....

“Is it ... v-very dangerous?” I stuttered.

“Is it ... v-very dangerous?” I stuttered.

“Incurable,” was the cut of the scissors.

“Incurable,” the scissors snipped.

“But more specifically, what is it? Somehow I cannot imagine—”

“But what exactly is it? Somehow, I can’t imagine...”

“You see ... how shall I put it? Are you a mathematician?”

“You see ... how should I put it? Are you a mathematician?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Then you see ... imagine a plane, let us say this mirror. You and I are on its surface. You see? there we are, squinting our eyes to protect ourselves from the sunlight, or here is the bluish electric spark in that tube, there the shadow of that aero that just passed. All this is on the surface, is momentary only. Now imagine this very same surface softened by a flame so that nothing can any longer glide over it, so everything instead will penetrate into that mirror world which excites such curiosity in children. I assure you, children are not so foolish as we think they are! The surface becomes a volume, a body, a world; and inside the mirror,—within you, there is the sunshine, and the whirlwind caused by the aero propeller, and your trembling lips and someone else’s lips also. You see, the cold mirror reflects, throws out, while this one absorbs; it keeps forever a trace of everything that touches it. Once you saw an imperceptible wrinkle on some one’s face, and this wrinkle is forever preserved within you; you may happen to hear in the silence a drop of water falling,—and you will hear it forever!”

“Then you see ... imagine a flat surface, like this mirror. You and I are on its surface. You see? There we are, squinting to protect our eyes from the sunlight. Here is the blue spark in that electric tube. There is the shadow of the aero that just passed. All of this is on the surface, and lasts only a moment. Now imagine that a flame softens this same surface. Nothing can slide over it anymore. Instead, everything passes into that mirror world that children are so curious about. I assure you, children aren’t as foolish as we think! The surface becomes a solid, a body, a world. And inside the mirror, inside you, there is the sunlight and the whirlwind from the aero’s propeller. There are your trembling lips and someone else’s lips too. You see, the cold mirror reflects things, throwing them back, while this one absorbs them. It keeps a trace of everything that touches it forever. Once you saw a barely visible wrinkle on someone’s face. That wrinkle is preserved inside you forever. You may happen to hear a drop of water falling in the silence, and you will hear it forever!”

“Yes, yes, that is it!” I grasped his hand. I could hear drops of water dripping in the silence from the faucet of a washstand and at once I knew it was forever.

“Yes, yes, that’s it!” I grabbed his hand. In the silence, I could hear water dripping from the washstand faucet. I knew at once that it was forever.

“But tell me please, why suddenly ... suddenly a soul? There was none, yet suddenly.... Why is it that no one has it, yet I....” I pressed the thin hand; I was afraid to loosen the safety belt.

“But please tell me, why suddenly... suddenly a soul? There wasn't one before, and now suddenly.... Why doesn't anyone else have one, but I....” I squeezed the thin hand. I was afraid to loosen the safety belt.

“Why? Well, why don’t we grow feathers or wings, but only shoulder blades, bases for wings? We have aeros; wings would only be in the way. Wings are needed in order to fly, but we don’t need to fly anywhere. We have arrived at the terminus. We have found what we wanted. Is that not so?”

“Why? Well, why don’t we grow feathers or wings? Why do we have only shoulder blades, the bases for wings? We have aeros. Wings would only get in the way. We need wings to fly, but we don’t need to fly anywhere. We’ve reached the end of the journey. We’ve found what we wanted. Isn’t that true?”

I nodded vaguely. He glanced at me and laughed a scalpel-like metallic laugh. The other doctor overheard us and stamped out of his room on his heavy legs. He picked up the thin doctor with his horn-eyes, then picked me up.

I nodded vaguely. He glanced at me and laughed, a metallic laugh sharp as a scalpel. The other doctor overheard us and stomped out of his room on heavy legs. He picked up the thin doctor with his horn-eyes, then picked me up.

“What is the matter, a soul? You say a soul? Oh, damn it! We may soon retrogress even to the cholera epidemics. I told you,” he tossed the thin one on the horns, “I told you the only thing to do is to operate on them all, wholesale! simply extirpate the centre for fancy. Only surgery can help here, only surgery.” He put on a pair of enormous X-ray spectacles and remained thus for a long while, looking into my skull, through the bones into my brain and making notes.

“What’s the matter, a soul? You say a soul? Oh, damn it! We may soon go backward to cholera epidemics. I told you,” he tossed the thin one on his horns, “I told you the only thing to do is operate on them all at once! Just remove the center of imagination. Only surgery can help here, only surgery.” He put on a pair of enormous X-ray glasses. For a long time, he looked through the bones of my skull into my brain and made notes.

“Very, very curious! Listen.” He looked firmly into my eyes. “Would you not consent to have me perform an extirpation on you? It would be invaluable to the United State; it might help us to prevent an epidemic. If you have no special reasons, of course....”

“Very, very curious! Listen.” He looked steadily into my eyes. “Would you agree to let me perform an extirpation on you? The procedure would be invaluable to the United State. It might help us prevent an epidemic. If you have no special reasons not to, of course....”

Some time ago I should probably have said without hesitation, “I am willing,” but now,—I was silent. I caught the profile of the thin doctor; I implored him!

Some time ago, I would probably have said without hesitation, “I am willing.” But now I was silent. I caught sight of the thin doctor’s profile and pleaded with him!

“You see,” he said at last, “Number D-530 is building the Integral and I am sure the operation would interfere....”

“You see,” he finally said, “Number D-530 is building the Integral, and I’m sure the operation would interfere....”

“Ah-h!” grumbled the other and stamped back into his room.

“Ah-h!” the other grumbled and stomped back into his room.

We remained alone. The paper-like hand was put lightly and caressingly upon mine, the profile-like face came nearer and he said in a very low voice: “I shall tell you a secret. You are not the only one. My colleague is right when he speaks of an epidemic. Try to remember, have you not noticed yourself, some one with something similar, very similar, identical?”

We were alone. He placed his paper-like hand lightly on mine in a caress. His profile-like face came closer, and he said very quietly: “I’ll tell you a secret. You’re not the only one. My colleague is right to call it an epidemic. Try to remember. Haven’t you noticed someone with something similar, very similar, identical?”

He looked at me closely. What was he alluding to? To whom?... Is it possible?...

He looked at me closely. What was he hinting at? Who was he talking about?... Could it be?...

“Listen,” I jumped up from my seat. But he had already changed the subject. In a loud metallic tone:

“Listen,” I said, jumping up from my seat. But he had already changed the subject. In a loud, metallic voice:

“... As to the insomnia and for the dreams you complain of, I advise you to walk a great deal. Tomorrow morning you must begin taking long walks ... say as far as the Ancient House.”

“... For the insomnia and dreams you complain about, I advise you to walk a lot. Tomorrow morning, you must start taking long walks ... perhaps as far as the Ancient House.”

Again he pierced me with his eyes and he smiled thinly. It seemed to me that I saw enveloped in the tender tissue of that smile a word, a letter, a name, the only name.... Or was it only my imagination? I waited impatiently while he wrote a certificate of illness for today and tomorrow. Once more I gently and firmly pressed his hand, then I ran out.

Again, he pierced me with his eyes and gave a thin smile. I thought I saw a word wrapped in the delicate fabric of that smile. A letter, a name, the only name.... Or was I imagining it? I waited impatiently while he wrote a sick note for today and tomorrow. Once more, I squeezed his hand gently but firmly, then ran out.

My heart now feels light and swift like an aero; it carries me higher and higher.... I know joy will come tomorrow. What joy?...

My heart feels light and fast as a plane, carrying me higher and higher.... I know joy will come tomorrow. What joy?...