cp.creaturesofforever-第10部分

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es　my　hand。　〃But　you　could　be　lost　for　the　life　of　this　universe。〃
　　I　cannot　conceive　of　anything　worse。
　　〃How　can　he　trap　me？〃　I　ask。
　　〃He　is　subtle；　and　we　cannot　penetrate　his　mind。　But　he　acts　much　as　a　mirror　does。　He　stands　before　you。　He　shows　you　what　you　are。　But　only　the　parts　of　you　that　can　be　used　to　destroy　you。〃
　　〃He　can　cause　me　to　destroy　myself？〃
　　〃Exactly。　Be　wary。　He　can　kill　you　without　your　permission。　But　he　can　only　pervert　you　to　his　cause　if　you　enter　into　an　agreement　with　him　out　of　free　will。〃
　　〃But　I　would　never　do　that。〃
　　Alanda　seems　unsure。　Her　expression　is　anxious。
　　She　leans　over　and　kisses　my　cheek。　There　is　a　tear　on　her　face　and　I　reach　up　to　wipe　it　away　but　she　grabs　my　other　hand。
　　〃You　are　loved；〃　she　whispers。　〃Don't　forget　that。〃
　　〃I　know。　I　know　you。〃　I　close　my　eyes。　〃Goodbye；　Alanda。〃
　　〃Sita。　My　Sita。〃
　　She　lets　go　of　me。　The　ship　darkens。
　　I　hear　the　strange　hum　again；　a　shift　inside。
　　But　inside；　outside…they　have　lost　their　meaning。
　　We　are　beyond　space　and　time；　and　I　am　falling。
　　Into　horror　unspeakable；　yes；　and　maybe　hope　unimagined。
　　
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　　The　collage　of　colors　and　shapes　that　I　now　see　is　my　life。　Yet　the　different　scenes　from　it　are　not　arranged　in　a　linear　fashion；　more　in　the　form　of　a　hologram；　a　pictorial　dimension　of　time　that　encircles　me　like　a　living　sphere。　I　have　only　to　focus　my　attention　on　a　particular　event　and　I　am　there。　But　perhaps　because　my　mind　is　used　to　dealing　with　sequential　events；　I　take　myself　back　in　order。　This　is　my　deliberate　choice；　not　the　choice　of　the　creation。　To　the　creation；　I　realize；　everything　is　happening　in　the　same　eternal　moment。
　　I　am　with　my　daughter；　Kalika；　holding　her　as　she　bleeds　from　devastating　chest　wounds。　Her　smile　is　gentle　and　I　am　crying。　She　tells　me　she　loves　me。　Then　I　cry　over　Seymour；　beside　his　funeral　pyre；　because　Kalika　has　killed　him。　Yet　a　few　drops　of　the　divine　child's　blood　and　he　is　alive　again。　Then　I　am　laughing。　Tears　are　connected　to　laughter　in　my　life。　One　seems　to　bring　the　other；　and　that　in　itself　is　a　great　mystery　to　me。　Blood；　also；　is　everywhere。　I　see　the　night　my　daughter　was　born；　in　pain　and　love。　The　opposites　of　all　life　fly　before　my　expanded　vision；　yet　they　now　seem　to　be　in　harmony　with　one　another。
　　Arturo　and　Joel　are　beside　me。　They　tell　me　they　love　me。　There　is　a　flash　of　blinding　light。　They　die；　their　love　kills　them；　I　destroy　them。　But　a　moment　later　I　am　saving　Joel　by　making　him　a　vampire；　and　a　moment　before　that　I　am　reviving　Ray　by　the　same　process。　Then　I　take　a　leap　and　I　am　sitting　beside　Ray's　father　as　he　dies　from　a　ferocious　blow　I　have　struck　to　his　chest。　He　perishes　with　the　fear　that　I　will　harm　his　son；　the　son　I　love。　Again　and　again；　my　love　brings　danger　and　death。
　　The　hologram　of　my　life　seems　to　spin。　In　quick　succession　I　see　Hitler　screaming　at　his　troops；　Lincoln　ordering　General　Grant　to　take　up　the　Union's　moral　cause。　Then　I　am　in　a　castle　in　the　highlands　of　Scotland；　defending　it　from　an　evil　duke。　Once　more　my　lover　dies；　and　in　the　next　instant　I　stand　before　the　Inquisition；　condemning　Arturo　to　death。　Arturo；　who　has　meant　more　to　me　than　practically　anyone　I　have　ever　known。　I　see　his　eyes　as　I　curse　him；　but　I　do　not　see　his　heart；　do　not　know　that　he　has　already　tricked　me。　I　ensure　his　death　but　he　does　not　die。
　　Finally　I　am　walking　in　the　dry　hills　of　Sicily　outside　Messina；　eating　a　bunch　of　purple　grapes　and　wondering　where　I　am　heading。　It　is　the　ninth　century　and　even　the　evening　air　is　hot。　This　is　my　first　visit　to　Sicily；　the　previous　day　I　took　a　sailboat　across　the　straits　from　Italy。　Something　about　the　land　has　drawn　me　to　this　spot　in　particular；　but　as　of　yet　I　don't　know　what。　My　long　blond　hair　is　pulled　up　under　a　cap；　and　I　wear　gray　hose　and　a　short　linen　tunic。　I　could　be　a　pretty　young　boy；　with　my　baggy　white　shirt　and　long　steel　knife　tucked　in　my　belt。　The　sun　is　in　the　sky；　but　it　bothers　me　just　a　little。
　　Then　I　am　not　watching　this　other　self。
　　I　am　her；　and　it　isn't　easy　for　either　of　us。
　　There　is　a　moment　of　duality。　She　does　not　know　me。
　　I　feel　as　if　I　bump　heads　with　a　shadow；　and　yet　my　shadow　thinks　she　is　the　real　one；　and　that　I　am　the　ghost。　It　takes　me　a　moment　to　explain；　and　the　moment　almost　cracks　open　into　an　insane　fissure　of　delusion。　This　Sita　does　not　have　a　volume　of　my　memories；　and　certainly　does　not　know　about　flying　saucers　and　the　possibility　of　mental　time　travel。　I　am　forced　to　impress　these　possibilities　on　her　through　a　wall　of　internal　resistance　that　threatens　to　explode　both　our　minds。　Then　I　realize　it　is　hopeless；　that　I　cannot　force　myself　on　myself。　I　relax；　and　back　off；　and　then　suddenly　she　is　curious　about　me。　She　knows　me　even　when　she　doesn't　know　all　of　me。　I　was　always　one　for　a　new　experience；　and　meeting　myself　along　an　empty　road　is　about　as　weird　an　experience　as　I　have　ever　had。　My　younger　self　calls　to　me。
　　〃Ritorna　da　me；〃　she　says。　e　back　to　me。
　　〃Fa　bene；〃　I　　reply；　aloud。　All　right。
　　Sita　is　startled。　Who　is　talking　to　whom？
　　Her　curiosity　is　greater　than　her　fear。
　　I　am　able　to　get　inside　and　there　I　stay。
　　Finally　she　understands。　The　duality　ceases。　I　am　Alisa　Perne　of　the　twentieth　century；　in　the　ninth　century；　here　in　Sicily　to　defeat　a　monster。　There　is　only　me　but　I　am　now　of　firm　resolve。　Landulf　had　better　beware。
　　Around　the　bend　of　the　next　hill；　I　hear　cries。　Dante。
　　Before　I　had　not　known　I　would　meet　him；　but　now　it　is　as　if　he　is　calling　my　name。　Tossing　aside　my　grapes；　I　run　to　an　appointment　I　have　with　the　past。　Yet　already　I　am　not　thinking　of　myself　as　from　the　future。　Perhaps　the　other　Sita　is　there　as　much　as　I。　Yet　I　do　notice　that　I　am　not　nearly　so　fast　as　I　was　before。　This　body　has　not　had　the　last　infusions　of　powerful　blood。　I　am　just　an　ordinary　vampire…I　can't　even　read　minds。　All　that　I　have；　that　I　didn't　have　before；　are　memories　of　things　that　have　not　yet　happened。　They　are　my　only　new　weapons　against　Landulf。
　　As　I　e　around　a　hill；　I　find　Dante　naked　and　bleeding；　strung　up　to　a　skeleton　of　a　tree　by　a　rope　tied　to　his　right　arm　and　right　foot。　Gathered　around　him　are　two　men　and　a　woman；　the　two　men　holding　swords　and　poking　at　poor　Dante；　encouraging　him　to　sing。　There　is　another　rope　around　Dante's　neck。　The　meaning　is　clear…if　Dante　stops　singing；　they　will　cut　the　other　ropes　and　he　will　be　hung。
　　Dante　is　not　in　good　shape。　At　a　glance　I　realize　he　has　severe　leprosy　of　his　left　arm　and　leg。　The　disease　has　actually　eaten　away　portions　of　his　bones；　and　I　know　he　must　live　in　terrible　pain。　He　has　also　been　castrated；　but　by　the　sweetness　in　his　voice　I　recognize　that　he　is　no　ordinary　eunuch。　He　is　a　castrato；　perhaps　of　the　Holy　Father　in　Rome；　whom　I　despise。　The　castrati　make　up　the　greatest　choirs　in　the　Catholic　Church。　Their　manhood　is　sacrificed　to　maintain　their　magical　voices　in　a　preadolescent　range。　There　are　few　things　the　Church　will　not　do；　I　realized　long　ago；　to　petition　the　angels　in　heaven。　Dante　cannot　be　more　than　twenty　years　old。
　　〃Ciao！〃　I　call　as　I　stride　up。　〃Che　cosa　fai？〃　What　are　you　doing？
　　The　men　hardly　look　over；　they　are　having　so　much　fun。　But　the　dark…haired　woman　with　the　cleft　palate　eyes　me　suspiciously。　〃Stai　zitta！〃　she　calls。　Shut　up。　〃He　is　a　leper。　He　is　to　be　killed。〃
　　〃Penso　di　no。〃　I　don't　think　so。　I　slowly　draw　my　knife　as　I　move　near。　〃Release　him　now；　and　I　will　spare　your　lives。〃
　　Dante　stops　singing　and　the　two　men　with　swords　now　give　me　their　attention。　One　is　a　clumsy　brute；　dark　featured；　the　other；　the　fair　young　one；　appears　quick　on　his　feet。　They　eye　my　long　narrow　knife　and　chuckle　to　themselves。　But　the　young　man　spreads　his　feet　slightly；　readying　himself　for　bat。　He　is　an　experienced　swordsman；　although　he　is　not　sure　yet　if　I　am　a　boy　or　a　woman。　My　skin　is　darker　than　usual　from　the　sun；　the　gloss　of　my　red　lips　partially　hidden　by　my　tan。　Hanging　half　upside　down；　Dante　stares　at　me　in　wonder；　his　face　a　mess　of　blood　and　tears。　Incredibly；　he　has　hope　that　I　will　be　able　to　set　him　free。　Naturally　I　will；　in　a　few　minutes。　The　brute　gestures　with　his　sword。
　　〃Vattene　dia；〃　he　says。　Get　away。　〃Or　it　will　be　you　we　string　from　the　tree。〃
　　〃It　won't　happen；〃　I　reply；　and　in　a　fast　move　I　step　forward　and　cut　the　top　of　the　woman's　left　arm。　The　wound　is　not　serious；　it　will　heal；　in　time；　but　I　want　it　to　serve　as　a　warning　that　I　am　skilled　with　a　blade。　Blood　springs　from　her　flesh　and　soaks　her　peasant　clothes。　The　three　hardly　saw　me　move。　Yet　I　know　they　will　need　more　persuasion　than　this　to　back　off。　Of　course　I　have　been　here　before。　A　part　of　me　knows　that　even　though　it　is　being　easier　to　forget　that　I　have。　Surely　I　will　kill　them　all；　for　the　sake　of　poor　Dante。
　　The　woman　screams　in　pain。　〃She　has　cut　me！　Kill　her！〃
　　〃You　foul　creature！〃　the　brute　shouts　as　he　dashes　forward　and　tries　to　run　me　through。　But　I　have　sidestepped　his　lunge；　and　tripped　him。　As　he　tries　to　raise　his　head　from　the　ground；　I　kneel　beside　him　and　pull　his　head　back　by　the　hair。　My　blade　rests　across　his　exposed　throat；　and　I　speak　to　the　ugly　woman　and　the　fair　man；　who　at　least　has　had　the　wits　to　wait　to　see　what　I　can　do。
　　〃If　you　leave　now；〃　I　say。　〃I　will　let　this　man　live。〃
　　〃He　is　no　friend　of　mine；〃　the　fair　man　says。　〃Do　with　him　what　you　wish。〃
　　〃No！〃　the　woman　cries。　〃He　is　my　husband！〃
　　〃Then　you　agree　to　leave？〃　I　say。
　　The　brute；　my　knife　scratching　his　trembling　throat；　is　agreeable。　〃We　will　be　gone；〃　he　says。
　　〃Bene。〃　Good。　I　smash　his　face　in　the　dirt　and　then　release　him。　But　he　is　no　sooner　back　on　his　feet　than　his　dull　eyes　flash　with　anger　and　he　makes　another　try　for　me。　Once　again　I　sidestep　the　thrust　of　his　sword；　but　this　time　I　sink　my　blade　deep　into　his　heart　and　withdraw　it　before　he　can　take　it　with　him　to　the　bloody　ground。　His　wife　cries　as　he　lands　facedown。　She　jumps　toward　me；　her　arms　flailing；　and　I　kill　her　as　I　killed　her　mate。　Now　there　is　only　the　fair…haired　man　left。　Dante　is　muttering　prayers　to　heaven　and　drool