Ghosts by Gaslight - Jack Dann [77]
It is clear to me now that the one thing Abiha and her people do not desire, under any circumstances, is for someone to build a machine that replicates what they alone can do. Giving such a machine to the masses would open up whole worlds to exploration and exploitation, robbing them of the advantage that they are careful to maintain.
I said that I had made a mistake that night, by resisting her. Had I meekly abandoned my theories, Margaret would not have died, and I would not be as I am now, the center of scandal, my work in disrepute, all that is dear to me in this world dead and demolished—entirely by her hand.
So much for the “light of the intellect”!
What has also become clear to me is the possibility that Abiha too made a mistake. When I grasped her and was pulled into the ether, I did not return unscathed. The ether altered me, as it must alter everyone who touches it. I recognize it now. I feel it when it is near, and I have concluded that I could enter it again, under my own volition, if only given the opportunity.
But how to navigate such formless spaces? How to avoid being lost forever in the void between worlds?
“We all of us have places of significance,” Abiha told me. Hers are laboratories like mine, where great men dream of travelling the universe. What if some places resemble the poles of a magnet, except that like attracts like, tuned to an individual’s vital experiences? This explains why she came alone to me, not with an army of fiends at her back. Such a navigational mnemonic would enable her to cross the gulf between worlds as easily as stepping from room to room, unfettered by mere matter!
And I could do likewise, if I could manage the trick of it.
Far from egoless acceptance of guilt, dear Doctor Michaels, the dissociation I felt in my cell offers me both the means to escape and an opportunity to gain revenge upon the woman who killed my Margaret. I feel it even more strongly now, here in this place of mourning and loss. The ether presses hard upon the reality of this world—this world I now suspect to be paper-thin and as easy to puncture as water. For the ether is none other than my river of life, the universal fluid we ride like swans, not realizing we can take flight at any time.
In a moment, I will make the attempt. If I succeed, I will follow this fateful catacomb to one in another world—hers, perhaps, if the congress has not ended, or another nearby—leaving you a mystery, this apology, and a further exhortation to read the authors I named during our brief discourse. Don’t let the silence subsume their voices, for each is a victim of those who would condemn our world to isolation and ignorance. Take up their dream of the ultimate transportation, and follow, if you can. And when you think of me, remember their words, not mine:
I touched the state when only Truth remains.
I swept away pleasures and pains.
The Highest which is beyond the reach
Of the four ancient Vedas
came
here
to me!”
[Author’s note: Every reasonable effort has been made to trace the copyright holders of “I left the world” and “The Eightfold Yoga” by Pattinattar, English translation by Kamil V. Zvelebi, and to obtain their permission for the use of this copyright material. The author apologizes for any errors or omissions and would be grateful if notified of any corrections that should be incorporated in future reprints of this story.]
Afterword to “The Jade Woman of the Luminous Star”
After spending a million-plus words and ten novels in one fantasy universe, I’ve been tinkering recently with something new. My intention is to explore the Helioverse in a novel called Liminus, and the opportunity to write this story, a distant prequel, could not be resisted. I’m grateful to John Harwood, for both his assistance and friendship I value beyond words.