Lanark_ a life in 4 books - Alasdair Gray [50]
“I am not little and I have not come to say goodbye.”
He climbed in, crawled across the rigidly quivering copper wings, sat astride the silver thorax and gasped breathlessly. The chamber was getting dim with whirling steam. She laughed exultingly and said, “Are you still there? I’m glad you came. I like you now I’m leaving but you mustn’t stay any longer.”
“Listen! listen to me!” he shouted and could think of nothing to add. He lay flat and shoved his head desperately into her jaws. The heat scorched his face and made his hair stream upward. There was a crackling sound and Ozenfant’s voice said sharply, “You have ten seconds to leave, the dome must soon be sealed, it should have been sealed already, you have seven seconds to leave.”
She laughed again and her voice rang directly in his ears. “Are you angry that you’ll have nobody to read to, Thaw? But I’ve spread my wings, I’ll fly everywhere and you can’t come, I will rise with my flaming hair and eat men like air.”
“Soon her jaws will shut,” said Ozenfant. “Listen, you dislike me but I give you five more seconds, five unofficial seconds to leave starting now.”
A moment later there was a faint hiss and such a blast of steam from the mouth that Lanark jerked his head back with a yell. She said, “You’re not here?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“But I’ll kill you.”
“I don’t care.”
“I don’t want to kill you.”
He felt a wave of heat go through the cool metal under him then the beak shut with a crack like a gunshot. There was a second crack then a clang. The clouds of steam began clearing, yet he was unable for a moment to see the great beak, for the head had fallen off. There was a black hole between the shoulders from which poured a pale shining stream. It was hair. There was another clang as the thorax split. He fell sideways onto a wing and lay listening to sounds like buckets and kettles falling downstairs. The silver body and limbs cracked and fell apart until they covered the floor like ornate scrap metal.
A naked girl crouched weeping in the middle, rubbing her cheeks with her hands. She was blond and tall but she was Rima for she shook her head at him and said, “You should have taken that coat. I didn’t want you to be cold.”
There was a crackling and Ozenfant said, “What is happening?
What is happening? I can see nothing without the screen.”
Lanark was too stunned to think or feel but he could not stop gazing at her with open mouth and eyes. Her skin looked drenched and she curled her knees up and hugged them, trembling. Lanark took his coat and jersey off, pushed away some cracked armour and crawled to her side saying, “You’d better put these on.”
“Lay them round me please.”
Ozenfant said, “Stop whispering! I demand to know what has happened!”
Lanark said, “I think we’re all right.”
After a moment Ozenfant said, without expression, “I wash my hands of the pair of you.”
Lanark put the clothes round her shoulders and sat by her side with his arm about her waist. She leaned her head on him and said drowsily, “You look as if you’ve been in a fight, Lanark.”
“I’ll be better soon.”
“I wonder if I can forgive you for breaking my wings. It’s nice to be human again but they were beautiful wings.” She seemed to fall asleep and he passed into a kind of stupor.
Later she kissed his ear and murmured, “Should we try to leave?”
He roused himself and said, “Dr. Lanark is ready to leave.” The ignition chamber said sternly, “You are allowed to leave but you are no longer a doctor.”
A line appeared dividing the milky dome in two and each half sunk into the floor and left them squatting in a small room with an entrance on each side. Down the low tunnel from the studio ran, stooping, a nurse with a broom, followed by a stretcher pushed by another nurse. The first swept the metal shards to one side while the second brought a plain white nightshirt to Rima and helped her on with it, and all the time they laughed and chattered excitedly.
“Poor Bushy brows looks stunned.”
“He’s found a girlfriend but he needs