"It is of no importance in itself," said Filostrato. "But have reason to believe it came not from Wither but from the Head himself."

"The Head ? You mean Jules?"

"Jules?" said Filostrato. "Why do you speak of him? As for your wife, I attach no importance to it. What have I to do with men's wives? The whole subject disgusts me. But if they make a point of it ... Look, my friend, the real question is whether you mean to be truly at one with us or no."

"I don't quite follow," said Mark.

"Do you want to be a mere hireling? But you have already come too far in for that. If you try to go back you will be as unfortunate as the fool Hingest. If you come really in-the world . . . bah, what do I say? ... the universe is at your feet."

"But of course I want to come in," said Mark. A certain excitement was stealing over him.

"The Head will have all of you, and all that is yours-or else nothing. You must bring the woman in too. She also must be one of us."

This remark was a shock, yet at that moment, fixed with the little, bright eyes of the Professor, he could hardly make the thought of Jane real to himself.

"You shall hear it from the lips of the Head himself," said Filostrato suddenly.

"Is Jules here?" said Mark.

Filostrato turned sharply from him and flung back the window curtains; the full moon stared down upon them.

'' There is a world for you, no?" said Filostrato. '' There is cleanness, purity. Thousands of square miles of polished rock with not one blade of grass, not one fibre of lichen, not one grain of dust. Not even air."

"Yes. A dead world," said Mark, gazing at the moon. "No!"said Filostrato. "No. There is life there."

"Do we know that?" asked Mark.

"Oh, yes. Intelligent life. Under the surface. A great race, further advanced than we. A pure race. They have cleaned their world, broken free (almost) from the organic."

"But how--?"

"They do not need to be born and breed and die; only their common people, their canaglia do that. The Masters live on. They retain their intelligence: they can keep it artificially alive after the organic body has been dispensed with-a miracle of applied biochemistry. They do not need organic food. They are almost free of Nature, attached to her only by the thinnest, finest cord."

"Do you mean that all that," Mark pointed to the mottled white globe of the moon, " is their own doing?"

"Why not? If you remove all the vegetation, presently you have no atmosphere, no water."

"But what was the purpose?"

"Hygiene. Why should they have their world all crawling with organisms?"

"But how do we know all this?"

"The Head has many sources of information. I speak that you may know what can be done: what shall be done here. This Institute-Dio mio, it is for something better than housing and vaccinations and curing the people of cancer. It is for the conquest of death; or for the conquest of organic life, if you prefer. They are the same thing. It is to bring out of that cocoon of organic life which sheltered the babyhood of mind, the New Man, the man who will not die, the artificial man, free from Nature."

"And you think that some day we shall really find a means of keeping the brain alive indefinitely?"

"We have begun already. The Head himself . . ."

"Go on," said Mark. This at last was the real thing. "The Head himself has already survived death, and you shall speak to him this night."

"Do you mean that Jules has died?"

"Bah! Jules is nothing. He is not the Head."

"Then who is?"

At this moment there was a knock on the door. Someone came in. "Is the young man ready?" asked the voice of Straik. "Oh yes. You are ready, are you not, Mr. Studdock?"

"Do you mean really to join us, young man?" said Straik. "The Head has sent for you. Do you understand -the Head? You will look upon one who was killed and is still alive. The resurrection of Jesus in the Bible was a symbol: to-night you shall see what it symbolised. This is real Man at last."

"What the devil are you talking about?" said Mark.

"My friend is quite right," said Filostrato. "Our Head is the first of the New Men-the first that lives beyond animal life. If Nature had her way his brain would now be mouldering in the grave. But he will speak to you within this hour, and-a word in your ear-you will obey."

"But who is it?" said Mark.

"It is Francois Alcasan," said Filostrato.

"You mean the man who was guillotined?" gasped Mark. Both the heads nodded. Both faces were close to him: in that disastrous light they looked like masks hanging in the air.

"You are frightened?" said Filostrato. "Ah!-if you were outside, if you were mere canaglia, you would have reason. It is the beginning of all power."

"It is the beginning of Man Immortal and Man Ubiquitous," said Straik. "It is what all the prophecies really meant."

"At first, of course," said Filostrato, " the power will be confined to a small number of individual men. Those who are selected for eternal life."

"And you mean," said Mark, " it will then be extended to all men?"

"No," said Filostrato. "I mean it will then be reduced to one man. You are not a fool, are you, my young friend? All that talk about the power of Man over Nature is only for the canaglia. You know, as I do, that Man's power over Nature means the power of some men over other men, with Nature as the instrument. There is no such thing as Man- it is a word. It is not Man who will be omnipotent, it is some one man, some immortal man. Alcasan, our Head, is the first sketch of it. The completed product may be someone else. It may be you. It may be me."

"I don't understand, I don't understand," said Mark.

"But it is very easy," said Filostrato. "We have found how to make a dead man live. He was a wise man even in his natural life. He live now forever: he get wiser. Later, we make them live better-for at present this second life is probably not very agreeable. Later' we make it pleasant for some-perhaps not so pleasant for others. For we can make the dead live whether they wish it or not. They cannot refuse the little present."

"And so," said Straik, " the lessons you learned at your mother's knee return. God will have power to give eternal reward and eternal punishment."

"God?" said Mark. "How does He come into it? I don't believe in God."

"But, my friend," said Filostrato, " does it follow that because there was no God in the past that there will be no God also in the future?"

"Don't you see," said Straik, " that we are offering you the unspeakable glory of being present at the creation of God Almighty?"

"And that little affair of the wife," added Filostrato. "You will do as you are told. One does not argue with the Head."

Mark had nothing now to help him but the rapidly ebbing exhilaration of the alcohol taken at dinner and some faint gleams of memory from hours during which the world had had a different taste from this exciting horror which now pressed upon him. On the other side was fear. What would they do to him if he refused now ? And, aiding the fear, there was, even then, a not wholly disagreeable thrill at the thought of sharing so stupendous a secret. "Yes," he said. "Yes-of course-I'll come." They led him out. He stumbled, and they linked arms with him. The journey seemed long: passage after passage, doors to unlock, strange smells. Then Filostrato spoke through a speaking-tube and a door was opened to them. A young man in a white coat received them.

"Strip to your underclothes," said Filostrato. The opposite wall of the room was covered with dials. Numbers of flexible tubes came out of the floor and went into the wall just beneath the dials. The staring dial faces and the bunches of tubes beneath them, faintly pulsating, gave one the impression of looking at some creature with many eyes and many tentacles. When the three newcomers had removed their outer clothes, they washed their hands and faces, and Filostrato plucked white clothes for them out of a glass container with a pair of forceps. He gave them gloves and masks such as surgeons wear. He studied the dials. "Yes, yes," he said. "A little more air. Turn on the chamber air ... slowly ... to Full. Now air in the lock. A little less of the solution. Now."

Tags: C.S. Lewis Space Trilogy Science Fiction
Source: readsnovelonline.net