Zelazny, Roger - SS - The Man Who Loved The Faioli.pdf

(79 KB) Pobierz
667961039 UNPDF
The Man Who LovedThe Faioli
Roger Zelazny
_____________________________________________________________________
It is the story of John Audenand the Faioli , and no one knows it
betterthan I. Listen--
It happened on that evening, as he strolled (forthere was no reason
not to stroll) in his favorite places in the whole world, that he saw the
Faiolinear the Canyon of the Dead, seated on a rock, her wings of light
flickering, flickering, flickering and then gone, until it appeared that a
humangirl was sitting there, dressed all in white and weeping, with long
blacktresses coiled about her waist.
He approachedher through the terrible light from the dying, half-dead
sun, in which human eyes could not distinguish distances nor grasp
Page 1
 
perspectivesproperly (though his could), and he lay his right hand upon her
shoulderand spoke a word of greeting and of comfort.
It was as if he did not exist, however. She continued to weep,
streaking with silver her cheeks the color of snow or a bone. Her almond
eyeslooked forward as though they saw through him, and her long fingernails
duginto the flesh of her palm, though no blood was drawn.
Then he knew that it was true, the things that are said of the
Faioli--that they see only the living and never the dead, and thatthey are
formed intothe loveliest women in the entire universe. Being dead himself,
John Auden debated the consequences of becoming a living man once again, for
atime.
The Faioli were known to come to a man the month before his
death--those rare men who still died--and to live with such a man for that
finalmonth of his existence, rendering to him every pleasure that it is
possible for a human being to know, so that on the day when the kiss of
deathis delivered, which sucks the remaining life from his body, that man
accepts it--no, seeks it--with desire and grace, for such is the power of
the Faioliamong all creatures that there is nothing more to be desired
aftersuch knowledge.
John Auden considered his life and his death, the conditions of the
worldupon which he stood, the nature of his stewardship and his curse and
the Faioli--who was the loveliest creature he had ever seen in all of his
Page 2
 
fourhundred thousand days of existence--and he touched the place beneath
his left armpit which activated the necessary mechanism to make him live
again.
The creature stiffened beneath his touch, forsuddenly it was flesh,
his touch, and flesh, warm and woman-filled, that he was touching, now that
thelast sensations of life had returned to him. He knew that histouch had
becomethe touch of a man once more.
"I said 'hello, and don't cry,'" he said, and her voice was like the
breezeshe had forgotten through all the trees that he had forgotten, with
their moisture and their odors and their colors all brought back to him
thus, "From where do you come, man? You were not here a moment ago."
"From the Canyon of the Dead," he said.
"Let me touch your face," and he did, and she did.
"It is strange that I did not feel you approach."
"This is a strange world," he replied.
"That is true," she said. "You are the only living thing upon it."
And he said, "What is your name?"
Page 3
 
She said, "Call me Sythia ," and he did.
"My name is John," he told her, "John Auden ."
"I have come to be with you, to giveyou comfort and pleasure," she
said, and he knew that the ritual was beginning.
"Why were you weeping when I found you?" he asked.
"Because I thought there was nothing upon this world, and I was so
tiredfrom my travels," she told him. "Do you live near here?"
"Not far away," he answered. "Not far away at all."
"Will you take me there?To the place where you live?"
"Yes."
And she rose and followed him into the Canyonof the Dead, where he
madehis home.
They descendedand they descended, and all about them were the remains
ofpeople who had once lived. She did not seem to see these things, however,
butkept her eyes fixed upon John's face and her hand upon his arm.
Page 4
 
"Why do you call this place the Canyon of the Dead?" she asked him.
"Because they are all about us here, the dead," he replied.
"I feel nothing."
"I know."
They crossed through the Valley of the Bones, where millions of the
dead frommany races and worlds lay stacked all about them, and she did not
seethese things. She had come to the graveyard of allthe world , but she
did notrealize this thing. She had encountered its tender, its keeper, and
shedid know what he was, he who staggered beside her like a man drunken.
John Auden took her to his home--not really the placewhere he lived,
but it would be now--and there he activated ancient circuits within the
buildingwithin the mountains, and in response light leaped forth from the
walls, light he had never needed before but now required.
The door slid shut behind them and the temperature built up to a normal
warmth. Fresh air circulated and he took it into his lungs and expelled it,
gloryingin the forgotten sensation. His heart beat within his breast, a red
warmthing that reminded him of the pain and of the pleasure. Forthe first
time in ages, he prepared a meal and fetched a bottle of wine from one of
thedeep, sealed lockers. How manyothers could have borne what he had
Page 5
 

Plik z chomika:

Inne pliki z tego folderu:

Inne foldery tego chomika:

Zgłoś jeśli naruszono regulamin