The End of All Songs
- Автор: Муркок Майкл
- Серия: Dancers at the End of Time #3
- Год: 1976
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «The End of All Songs». Краткое содержание книги:
But as the pandemonium progresses, some delicious and long-held mysteries are revealed and some distressing omens appear on the horizon. Due to circumstances beyond their control, immortality - at least as far as the immortals know it - will never be the same again.
"Perhaps I should have dubbed you 'Solomon'," said Amelia acidly.
"You must call me 'Father', my dear." A bow to a passing O'Kala Incarnadine, recognizable only from the face at the top of the giraffe neck. For reasons best known to himself, Lord Jagged had discarded his usual robes and collars and wore, like Jherek, a simple grey morning suit, with a grey silk hat upon his noble head, a silver-topped cane in one gloved hand. The only touch of yellow was the primrose in his button-hole. "And here is my own spouse. Iron Orchid, as delicious as only you can be!"
The Orchid acknowledged the compliment. She wore her name-flower today — orchids of every possible hue and variety clustered over her body, hugging themselves close to her as if she were the only substantial thing remaining in the universe. The scents were so strong, in combination, that they threatened to overwhelm everyone within a radius of twenty feet. Orchids formed a hood around her head, from which she peered. "Husband mine! And dear children! All together, again. And for such a beautiful occasion! How many weedings take place today?" Her question was for Jherek.
"Weddings, mama. Three — no four — to my knowledge."
"About twenty in all," said Jagged. "You know how quickly these things catch on."
"Who else?" said Jherek.
"Doctor Volospion weds the Platinum Poppy."
"Such a pleasant, empty creature," sniffed the Iron Orchid, "at least, before she changed her name."
"And Captain Marble is to be spliced to Soola Sen Sun. And Lady Voiceless, I gather, gives herself in marriage to Li Pao."
The Iron Orchid seemed displeased by this announcement, but she said nothing.
"And how long, I wonder, will these 'marriages' last," said Amelia.
"Oh, I should think as long as the various parties wish them to last," murmured Lord Jagged. "The fashion could remain with us for a thousand years, or even two. One never knows. It all depends upon the ingenuity, surely, of the participants. Something else might come along to fire society's imagination…"
"Of course," she said. She had become subdued. Noticing this, Jherek pressed her arm, but she was not comforted.
"I should have thought, Amelia, that you would have been pleased by this development." Lord Jagged's lips curved a fraction. "A tendency towards social stability, is it not?"
"I cannot rise to your jesting today, Lord Jagged."
"You still grieve for your perished potatoes, then?"
"For what is signified by their destruction."
"Later, we must put our heads together. There could be a solution to the problem…"
"There can be no solution, sir, to the abiding dilemma of one who would not be a drone in a world of drones."
"You are too hard on yourself, and on us. See it, instead, as a reward to the human race for all its millions of years of struggle."
"I have not been part of that struggle."
"Surely, in one sense…"
"In one sense, sir, we have all been involved. In another, we have not. It is, as you would agree, I know, not what is, but how one looks at what is."
"You will change."
"I fear that I shall."
"You fear cynicism in yourself?"
"Perhaps it is that."
"Some would consider your attitude cowardly."
" I consider it cowardly, Lord Jagged, you may be sure. Let us terminate this conversation. It excludes too many; it discomforts all. My problems are my own responsibility."
"You claim more than you should, Amelia. Have I had no part in creating those problems?"
"I suppose that you would be offended if I disagreed with you on that point."
His voice was very quiet and only for her ears. "I have a conscience, too, Amelia. All that I have done might be seen as the result of possessing an exaggerated sense of duty."
Her lips parted; her chin lifted a fraction. "If I could believe that, I think I should be more reconciled to my situation."
"Then you must believe it."
"Oh, Jagged! Amelia is right. We become bored with all this listless talk. It lacks colour, my dears." The Iron Orchid drew close to her husband.
Lord Jagged of Canaria raised his hat to Amelia. "Perhaps we can continue with this later. I have a proposal of my own, which you might find satisfactory."
"You must not concern yourself," she said, "with our affairs."
Jherek made to speak, but an ear-splitting fanfare came suddenly from all directions and an unnaturally loud, somewhat distorted voice — almost certainly that of the Duke of Queens — cried from the air:
"The weddings begin!"
They joined the crowd moving towards the cathedral.
27. Conversations and Conclusions
Dusty varicoloured light fell from brilliant windows through the lofty shadows of the cathedral; rainbow patterns littered the marble floors, the dark oak stalls, the cool vaulted galleries, the golden pulpits, the brass and ceramic choirs; they filtered through the silver-framed squints, dappling the extravagant costumes of brides, grooms and celebrants who, together, were the whole complement of this world at the End of Time and would remain its sole denizens for eternity.
At the great altar, against the radiance from the circular stained glass behind him, wearing vestments of black and red silk trimmed with woven ribbons of white and grey, a magnificent mitre swaying on his head, his aluminium crook in one gloved hand, his other hand raised to give a blessing, stood Bishop Castle, impressive and grave as through the high doors, admitting a sweep of sunshine into the main aisle, sounded the blare of a thousand instruments voicing a single note. Then there came a silence from without while the cathedral echoed, transformed the note, seeming to answer. Bishop Castle let the echoes fade before signalling Sweet Orb Mace, on the arm of Lord Jagged himself, to proceed towards the altar; then came the Duke of Queens, in uniform still, striding until he stood beside his bride-to-be, who wore white — hair, eyebrows, lashes, lips, gown bobbysox and boots. The altar itself was already piled with blue and green gifts of every description. From the chancel Jherek, Amelia and the Iron Orchid watched as, with due ceremony, Bishop Castle handed the Duke of Queens a black curved bow and a single arrow, enjoining the groom to "show yourself worthy of this woman". The Iron Orchid whispered that Amelia would be familiar with the ritual and would doubtless be a trifle blase, but she, the Orchid, was thrilled. Bishop Castle motioned and twenty palm trees sprang up in the main aisle, standing, one behind each other, in a perfectly straight line.
The Duke of Queens placed the arrow upon the string, drew it back, and shot at the first palm tree. The arrow pierced the tree through, entered the next and pierced that, going on to the next and the next until all twenty trees were pierced. There came a yell from the distance (it seemed that Li Pao had been standing behind the last palm tree and had received the arrow directly in his eye and had been killed; with as little fuss as possible he was resurrected — meanwhile the ceremony continued), but the Duke of Queens was already handing the bow back to Bishop Castle while intoning a reference to Sugriva, Jatayus and Disney the Destroyer and calling upon the Buddha to strike him bald if his love for Sweet Orb Mace ever faltered. This ritual progressed for some time, giving great satisfaction to the central participants, as is the nature of ritual, but tending to drag a little so far as the audience was concerned, though many admitted that the spoken parts were moving.
Bishop Castle gradually brought the wedding to its conclusion. "…until such time as the aforementioned Parties shall deem this Agreement void and that any disputes arising from this Agreement, or the performance thereof, shall be determined by arbitration in the Heavenly City or its Dependencies in accordance with the rules then obtaining of the High, Middle and Low Courts of Chance and Arbitrary Union and judgement on the award rendered may be entered in any court having jurisdiction thereof, in the name of God the Father, God the Mother or God the Next of Kin, God Bless, Good Luck and Keep Smiling." The ceremonial chain of iron was locked about Sweet Orb Mace's neck; the huge jewelled truss was fitted onto the lower part of the Duke of Queens' torso, thumbs were cut and blood mingled, halos were exchanged, two goats were slaughtered, and a further fanfare announced that the marriage was duly sanctified. Next came Werther de Goethe and Lord Mongrove, who had chosen a shorter but rather gloomier ceremony, followed by Mistress Christia, the Everlasting Concubine, and her little group of grooms, then Doctor Volospion with Platinum Poppy (a clever, but obvious copy of the Iron Orchid, to the smallest feature).