The Final Circle of Paradise

… Zhilin, said Rimeyer, it's frightening because it's unfamiliar. And as for progress – it will come to an end only for the real society, only for the real progress. But each separate man will lose nothing, he will only gain, since his world will become infinitely brighter, his ties with nature, illusory though they may be, will become more multifaceted; and ties with society, also illusory but not so known to him, will become more powerful and fruitful. And you don't have to mourn the end of progress. You do know that everything comes to an end. So now comes the end of progress in the objective world. Heretofore, we didn't know how if, would end, But we know now. We hadn't had time to realize all the potential intensity of objective existence, it could be that we would have reached such knowledge in a few hundred years, but now it has been put in our grasp. Slug brings a gift of understanding of our remotest ancestors which you cannot ever have in real life. You are simply the prisoner of an obsolete ideal, but be logical, the ideal which slug offers you is just as beautiful. Hadn't you always dreamed of man with the greatest scope of fantasy and gigantic imagination…

…Rimeyer, I replied, if you only knew how tired I am of arguing. All my life I have argued with myself and with others.

I have always loved to argue, because otherwise life is not worth living. But I am tired right now and don't wish to argue over slug, of all things…

…Then go on, Ivan, said Rimeyer…

I inserted the slug into the radio. As he had then, I got up. As he did then, I was past thought, past belonging in this world, but I still heard him say: don't forget to lock the door tight so that you won't be disturbed.

And then I sat down…So that's the way of it, Rimeyer! said I. So that's how it went. You surrendered. You closed the door tight. And then you sent lying reports to your friends that there wasn't any slug. And then again, after hesitating but a moment, you sent me to my death so that I wouldn't disturb you. Your ideal, Rimeyer, is offal. If man has to perform what is base in the name of an ideal, then the worth of such ideal is – less than dross…

I glanced at the watch and shoved the radio in my pocket.

I was past waiting for Oscar. I was hungry. And beyond that I had the feeling that for once I had done something useful in this town. I left my phone number with the room clerk – in case Oscar or Rimeyer should return – and went out onto the plaza. I did not believe that Rimeyer would come back or even that I would ever see him again, but Oscar could hold to his promise, though more likely, I would have to seek him out. And probably not alone. And probably not here.

Chapter TWELVE

There was but one visitor in the automated cafe.

Barricaded behind bottles and hors d'oeuvres at a corner table sat a dark man of oriental cast, magnificently but outlandishly dressed. I took some yogurt and blintzes with sour cream and set to, glancing at him now and then. He ate and drank much and avidly, his face shiny with sweat, hot inside his ridiculous formal clothes. He sighed, leaning back in his chair and loosening his belt. The motion exposed a long yellow holster glistening in the sunlight under the clothing.

I was on my way into the last of the blintzes when he hailed me: "Hello," he said. "Are you a native here?"

"No," I said. "A tourist."

"So that means you don't understand anything either."

I went to the bar, threw a juice cocktail together, and approached him.

"Why is it empty here?" he continued. He had a lively spare face and a bold gaze. "Where are the inhabitants? Why is everything closed up? Everyone is asleep, you can't get any service."

"You just arrived?"

"Yes."

He pushed an empty plate away, moved up a full one, and gulped some light beer.

"Where are you from?" I asked. He glared at me menacingly, and I added quickly, "If it's not a secret, of course."

"No," he said, "it's not a secret," and went back to his eating.

I finished the juice and got ready to leave. Then he said, "They live well, the dogs. Such food and as much as you want, and all for free."

"Well, not quite for free," I contradicted.

"Ninety dollars! Pennies! I'll show them how to eat ninety dollars within three days!" His eyes stopped roving momentarily, "D-dogs!" he muttered and fell to again.