Autarch of the Commonwealth
By the middle of the day, we had again passed all those whom we had passed the afternoon before and came upon the baggage train. I think all of us were amazed to discover that the enormous force we had seen was no more than the rear guard of an army inconceivably greater.
The Ascians used uintathers and platybelodons as beasts of burden. Mixed with them were machines with six legs, machines apparently built to serve that purpose. So far as I could see, the drivers made no distinction between these devices and the animals; if a beast lay down and could not be made to rise again, or a machine fell and did not right itself, its load was distributed among those nearest to hand, and it was abandoned. There appeared to be no effort to slaughter the beasts for their meat or to repair or take parts from the machines.
Late in the afternoon some great excitement passed down our column, though neither I nor my guards could discover what it was. Vodalus himself and several of his lieutenants came hurrying by, and afterward there was much coming and going between the end of the column and its head. When dark came we did not camp, but continued to tramp through the night with the Ascians. Torches were passed back to us, and since I had no weapons to carry and was somewhat stronger than I had been, I carried them, feeling almost as though I commanded the six swords who surrounded me.
About midnight, as nearly as I could judge, we halted. My guards found sticks for a fire, which we kindled from a torch. Just as we were about to lie down, I saw a messenger rouse the palanquin bearers ahead of us and send them blundering forward in the dark. They were no sooner gone than he loped back to us and held a quick, whispered conversation with the sergeant of my guards. At once my hands were bound (as they had not been since Vodalus had cut them free) and we were hurrying after the palanquin. We passed the head of the column, marked by the Chatelaine Thea's little pavilion, without pausing, and were soon wandering among the myriad Ascian soldiers of the main body.
Their headquarters was a dome of metal. I suppose it must have folded or collapsed in some way as a tent does, but it appeared as permanent and solid as any building, black externally but glowing with a sourceless, pale light within when the side opened to admit us. Vodalus was there, stiff and deferential; beside him the palanquin stood with its curtains opened to show the immobile body of the Autarch. At the center of the dome, three women sat around a low table. Neither then nor later did they look at Vodalus, or the Autarch in his palanquin, or at me when I was brought forward, save for an occasional glance. There were stacks of papers before them, but they did not look at those at allâonly at one another. In appearance they were much like the other Ascians I had seen, save that their eyes were saner and they were less starved looking.
“Here he is,” Vodalus said. “Now you see them both before you.”
One of the Ascians spoke to the other two in their own tongue. Both nodded and the one who had spoken said, “Only he who acts against the populace need hide his face.”
There was a lengthy pause, then Vodalus hissed at me, “Answer her!”
“Answer what? There has been no question.”
The Ascian said, “Who is the friend of the populace? He who aids the populace. Who is the enemy of the populace?”
Speaking very rapidly, Vodalus asked, “To the best of your knowledge are you, or is this unconscious man here, the leader of the peoples of the southern half of this hemisphere?”
“No,” I said. It was an easy lie, since from what I had seen, the Autarch was the leader of very few in the Commonwealth. To Vodalus I added under my breath, “What kind of foolishness is this? Do they believe I would tell them if I were the Autarch?”
“All we say is being transmitted to the north.”
One of the Ascians who had not spoken previously spoke now. Once she gestured in our direction. When she was finished, all three sat deathly still. I had the impression that they heard some voice inaudible to me, and that they did not dare move while it spoke; but that may have been mere imagination on my part. Vodalus fidgeted, I shifted my position to put a little less weight on my injured leg, and the Autarch's narrow chest heaved to the unsteady rhythm of his breathing, but the three of them remained as immobile as figures in a painting.
At last the one who had spoken first said, “All persons belong to the populace.” At that the others seemed to relax.
“This man is ill,” Vodalus said, looking toward the Autarch, “and he has been a useful servant to me, though I suppose his usefulness is now ended. The other I have promised to one of my followers.”
“The merit of sacrifice falls on him who without thought to his own convenience offers what he has toward the service of the populace.” The Ascian woman's tone made it clear that no further argument was possible.
Vodalus looked toward me and shrugged, then turned on his heel and
strode out of the dome. Almost at once a file of Ascian officers entered carrying lashes.
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We were imprisoned in an Ascian tent perhaps twice the size of my cell in the ziggurat. There was a fire there but no bedding, and the officers who had carried in the Autarch had merely dropped him on the ground beside it. After working my hands free, I tried to make him comfortable, turning him over on his back as he had been in the palanquin and arranging his arms at his sides.
About us the army lay quiet, or at least as quiet as an Ascian army ever is. From time to time someone far off cried outâin sleep, it seemedâbut for the most part there was no sound but the slow pacing of the sentries outside. I cannot express the horror that the thought of going north to Ascia evoked in me then. To see only the Ascians' wild, starved faces and to encounter myself, no doubt for the remainder of my life, whatever it was that had driven them mad, seemed to me a more horrible fate than any the clients in the Matachin Tower were ever forced to endure. I tried to lift the skirt of the tent, thinking that the sentries could do nothing worse than take my life; but the edges were welded to the ground by some means I did not understand. All four walls were of a slick, tough substance I could not tear, and Miles's razor had been taken from me by my six female guards. I was about to rush out the door when the Autarch's well-remembered voice whispered, “Wait.” I dropped to my knees beside him, suddenly afraid we would be overheard.
“I thought you wereâsleeping.”
“I suppose I have been in a coma most of the time. But when I was not, I feigned, so Vodalus would not question me. Are you going to escape?”
“Not without you, Sieur. Not now. I had given you up for dead.”
“You were not far wrong ⦠certainly not by so much as a day. Yes, I think that is best, you must escape. Father Inire is with the insurgents. He was to bring you what is necessary, then help you get away. But we are no longer there ⦠are we? He may not be able to aid you. Open my robe. What you first require is thrust into my waistband.”
I did as he asked; the flesh my fingers brushed was as cold as a corpse's. Near his left hip I saw a hilt of silvery metal no thicker than a woman's finger. I drew the weapon forth; the blade was not half a span in length, but thick and strong, and of that deadly sharpness I had not felt since Baldanders's mace had shattered
Terminus
Est
.
“You must not go yet,” the Autarch whispered.
“I will not leave you while you live,” I said. “Do you doubt me?”
“We will both live, and both go. You know the abomination ⦔ His hand closed on mine. “The eating of the dead, to devour their dead lives. But there is another way you do not know, and another drug. You must take it, and swallow the living cells of my forebrain.”
I must have drawn away, for his hand gripped my own harder.
“When you lie with a woman, you thrust your life into hers so that perhaps there will be new life. When you do as I have commanded you, my life and the lives of all those who live in me will be continued in you. The cells will enter your own nervous system and multiply there. The drug is in the vial I wear at my neck, and that blade will split the bones of my skull like pine. I have had occasion to use it, and I promise it. Do you recall how you swore to serve me when I shut the book? Use the knife now, and go as quickly as you can.”
I nodded and promised I would.
“The drug will be stronger than any you have known, and though all but mine will be faint, there will be hundreds of personalities ⦠. We are many lives.”
“I understand,” I said.
“The Ascians march at dawn. Can there be more than a single watch remaining of the night?”
“I hope that you will live it out, Sieur, and many more. That you'll recover.”
“You must kill me now, before Urth turns to face the sun. Then I will live in you ⦠never die. I live by mere volition now. I am relinquishing my life as I speak.”
To my utter surprise, my eyes were streaming with tears. “I've hated you since I was a boy, Sieur. I've done you no harm, but I would have harmed you if I could, and now I'm sorry.”
His voice had faded until it was softer than the chirping of a cricket. “You were right to hate me, Severian. I stand ⦠as you will stand ⦠for so much that is wrong.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Why?”
I was on my knees beside him.
“Because all else is worse. Until the New Sun comes, we have but a choice of evils. All have been tried, and all have failed. Goods in common, the rule of the people ⦠everything. You wish for progress? The Ascians have it. They are deafened by it, crazed by the death of Nature till they are ready to accept Erebus and the rest as gods. We hold humankind stationary ⦠in barbarism. The Autarch protects the people from the exultants, and the exultants ⦠shelter them from the Autarch. The religious comfort them. We have closed the roads to paralyze the social order ⦠.”
His eyes fell shut. I put my hand upon his chest to feel the faint stirring of his heart.
“Until the New Sun ⦔
This was what I had sought to escape, not Agia or Vodalus or the Ascians. As gently as I could, I lifted the chain from his neck, unstoppered the vial and swallowed the drug. Then with that short, stiff blade I did what had to be done.
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When it was over, I covered him from head to toe with his own saffron robe and hung the empty vial about my own neck. The effect of the drug was as violent as he had warned me it would be. You that read this, who have
never, perhaps, possessed more than a single consciousness, cannot know what it is to have two or three, much less hundreds. They lived in me and were joyful, each in his own way, to find they had new life. The dead Autarch, whose face I had seen in scarlet ruin a few moments before, now lived again. My eyes and hands were his, I knew the work of the hives of the bees of the House Absolute and the sacredness of them, who steer by the sun and fetch gold of Urth's fertility. I knew his course to the Phoenix Throne, and to the stars, and back. His mind was mine and filled mine with lore whose existence I had never suspected and with the knowledge other minds had brought to his. The phenomenal world seemed dim and vague as a picture sketched in sand over which an errant wind veered and moaned. I could not have concentrated on it if I had wished to, and I had no such wish.
The black fabric of our prison tent faded to a pale dove-gray, and the angles of its top whirled like the prisms of a kaleidoscope. I had fallen without being aware of it and lay near the body of my predecessor, where my attempts to rise resulted in nothing more than the beating of my hands upon the ground.
How long I lay there I do not know. I had wiped the knifeânow, still,
my
knifeâand concealed it as he had. I could vividly picture a self of dozens of superposed images slitting the wall and slipping out into the night. Severian, Thecla, myriad others all escaping. So real was the thought that I often believed I had done it; but always, when I ought to have been running between the trees, avoiding the exhausted sleepers of the army of the Ascians, I found myself instead in the familiar tent, with the draped body not far from my own.
Hands clasped mine. I supposed that the officers had returned with their lashes, and tried to see and to rise so I would not be struck. But a hundred random memories intruded themselves like the pictures the owner holds up to us in rapid succession in a cheap gallery: a footrace, the towering pipes of an organ, a diagram with labeled angles, a woman riding in a cart.
Someone said, “Are you all right? What's happened to you?” I felt the spittle dribbling from my lips, but no words came.
The Corridors of Time
Something struck my face a tingling blow.
“What's happened? He's dead. Are you drugged?”
“Yes. Drugged.”
Someone else was speaking, and after a moment I knew who it was: Severian, the young torturer.
But who was I?
“Get up. We've got to get out.”
“Sentry.”
“Sentries,” the voice corrected us. “There were three of them. We killed them.”
I was walking down a stair white as salt, down to nenuphars and stagnant water. Beside me walked a suntanned girl with long and slanting eyes. Over her shoulder peered the sculptured face of one of the eponyms. The carver had worked in jade; the effect was that of a face of grass.
“Is he dying?”
“He sees us now. See his eyes.”
I knew where I was. Soon the pitchman would thrust his head through the doorway of the tent to tell me to be gone. “Above ground,” I said. “You told me I would see her above ground. But that was easy. She is here.”
“We must go.” The green man took my left arm and Agia my right, and they led me out.
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We walked a long way, just as I had envisioned myself running, stepping sometimes over sleeping Ascians.
“They keep little guard,” Agia whispered. “Vodalus told me their leaders are so well obeyed they can scarcely conceive of treacherous attack. In the war, our soldiers surprise them often.”
I did not understand and repeated, “âOur soldiers â¦'” like a child.
“Hethor and I will no longer fight for them. How could we, after we have seen them? My business is with you.”
I was beginning to find myself again, the minds that made up my mind all falling into place. I had been told once that
autarch
meant “self-ruler,” and I glimpsed the reason that title had come into being. I said, “You
wanted to kill me. Now you are freeing me. You could have stabbed me.” I saw a crooked dagger from Thrax quivering in Casdoe's shutter.
“I could have killed you more readily than that. Hethor's mirrors have given me a worm, no longer than your hand, that glows with white fire. I have only to fling it, and it kills and crawls back to meâone by one I slew the sentries so. But this green man would not permit it, and I would not wish it. Vodalus promised me your agony spread over weeks, and I will not have less.”
“You're taking me back to him?”
She shook her head, and in the faint, gray dawn light that had crept through the leaves I saw her brown curls bounce on her shoulders as they had when I had watched her raise the gratings outside the rag shop. “Vodalus is dead. With the worm at my command, do you think I would let him cheat me and live? They would have taken you away. Now I will let you go freeâbecause I have some inkling of where you will goâand in the end you will come into my hands again, as you did when our pteriopes took you from the evzones.”
“You are rescuing me because you hate me then,” I said, and she nodded. Vodalus, I suppose, had hated that part of me that had been the Autarch in the same way.
Or rather, he had hated his conception of the Autarch, for he had been loyal, in so far as he was capable of it, to the real Autarch, whom he supposed his servant. When I had been a boy in the kitchens of the House Absolute, there was a cook who so despised the armigers and exultants for whom he prepared food that, in order that he should never have to bear the indignity of their reproaches, he did everything with a feverish perfection. He was eventually made chief of the cooks of that wing. I thought of him, and while I did, Agia's touch on my arm, which had become almost imperceptible as we hastened along, vanished altogether. When I looked for her, she was gone; I was alone with the green man.
“How did you come to be here?” I asked him. “You nearly lost your life in these times, and I know you cannot thrive under our sun.”
He smiled. Though his lips were green, his teeth were white; they gleamed in the faint light. “We are your children, and we are not less honest than you, though we do not kill to eat. You gave me half your stone, the stone that gnawed the iron and set me free. What did you think I would do when the chain no longer bound me?”
“I supposed you would return to your own day,” I said. The spell of the drug had faded sufficiently for me to fear our talk would wake the Ascian soldiers. Yet I could see noneâonly the dark, towering boles of the jungle hardwoods.
“We requite our benefactors. I have been running up and down the corridors of Time, seeking for a moment in which you also were imprisoned, that I might free you.”
When I heard that, I did not know what to say. At last I told him, “You
cannot imagine how strange I feel now, knowing that someone has been searching my future, looking for an opportunity to do me good. But now, now that we are quits, surely you understand that I did not help you because I believed you could help me.”
“You didâyou desired my help in finding the woman who just left us, the woman whom since that occasion you have found several times. However, you ought to know that I was not alone: There are others questing thereâI shall send two of them to you. And you and I are not yet at a balance, for although I found you captive here, the woman found you also and would have freed you without my help. So I shall see you again.”
As he said these words, he let go of my arm and stepped in that direction I had never seen until I watched the ship vanish into it from the top of Baldanders's castle and could only see, it seemed, when there was something there. Immediately he turned and began to run, and despite the dimness of the dawn sky I could see his running figure for a long time, illuminated by intermittent but regular flashes. At last he faded to a point of darkness; but then, just when I expected that point to disappear utterly, it began to grow, so that I had the impression of something huge rushing toward me down that strangely angled tunnel.
It was not the ship I had seen but another and much smaller one. Still, it was so large that when it moved at last entirely into our field of consciousness, its gunwales touched several of the thick trunks at once. The hull dilated, and a pont, much shorter than the steps that had descended from the Autarch's flier, slid out to touch the ground.
Down it came Master Malrubius and my dog, Triskele.
At that moment I regained a command of my personality that I had not truly possessed since I had drunk alzabo with Vodalus and eaten Thecla's flesh. It was not that Thecla was gone (and indeed I could not wish her gone, though I knew that in many respects she had been a cruel and foolish woman) or that my predecessor and the hundred minds that had been enveloped in his had vanished. The old, simple structure of my single personality was no more; but the new, complex structure no longer dazzled and bewildered me. It was a maze, but I was the owner and even the builder of that maze, with the print of my thumb on every passageway. Malrubius touched me, and then taking my wondering hand in his laid it gently against his own cool cheek.
“You are real, then,” I said.
“No. We are almost what you think usâpowers from above the stage. Only not quite deities. You are an actor, I believe.”
I shook my head. “Don't you know me, Master? You taught me when I was a boy, and I have become a journeyman of the guild.”
“Yet you are an actor too. You have as much right to think of yourself in that way as the other. You had been performing when we spoke to you in the field near the Wall, and the next time we saw you, at the House Absolute, you were acting again. It was a good play; I should have liked to see the end.”
“You were in our audience?”
Master Malrubius nodded. “As an actor, Severian, you surely know the phrase I hinted at a moment ago. It refers to some supernatural force, personified and brought onto the stage in the last act in order that the play may end well. None but poor playwrights do it, they say, but those who say so forget that it is better to have a power lowered on a rope, and a play that ends well, than to have nothing, and a play that ends badly. Here is our ropeâmany ropes, and a stout ship too. Will you come aboard?”
I said, “Is that why you are as you are? In order that I will trust you?”
“Yes, if you like.” Master Malrubius nodded, and Triskele, who had been sitting at my feet and looking up into my face, ran with his bumping, three-legged gallop halfway up the pont and turned to look back at me, his stump tail wagging and his eyes pleading as a dog's eyes do.
“I know you can't be what you seem. Perhaps Triskele is, but I saw you buried, Master. Your face is no mask, but there's a mask somewhere, and under that mask you're what the common people call a cacogen, although Dr. Talos explained to me once that you prefer to be called Hierodules.”
Again Malrubius laid his hand on mine. “We would not deceive you if we could. But I hope that you will deceive yourself, to your good and all Urth's. Some drug now dulls your mindâmore than you realizeâjust as you were under the sway of sleep when we spoke to you in that meadow near the Wall. If you were undrugged now, perhaps you would lack the courage to come with us, even if you saw us, even if your reason convinced you that you should.”
I said, “So far it hasn't convinced me of that, or of anything else. Where do you want to take me, and why do you want to take me there? Are you Master Malrubius or a Hierodule?” As I spoke I became more conscious of the trees, standing as soldiers stand while the officers of the staff discuss some point of strategy. Night was upon us still, but it had become a thinner darkness, even here.
“Do you know the meaning of that word
Hierodule
you use? I am Malrubius, and no Hierodule. Rather I serve those the Hierodules serve.
Hierodule
means
holy slave.
Do you think there can be slaves without masters?”
“And you take meâ”
“To Ocean, to preserve your life.” As if he had read my thought, he continued, “No, we do not take you to the paramours of Abaia, those who spared and succored you because you had been a torturer and would be Autarch. In any event, you have much worse to fear. Soon the slaves of Erebus, who held you captive here, will discover you have escaped; and Erebus would hurl that army, and many others like it, into the abyss to capture you. Come.” He drew me onto the pont.