The Last Ring-bearer - Kirill Yeskov [60]
That was when he had a weird idea to submit Eloar's letter (from the dead Elf's possessions) to Haddami's analysis. He and the baron went through its contents with a fine-tooth comb during their sojourn at Morgai, looking for any clues for entry into Lórien, but have found nothing useful. Now Haladdin wanted, for reasons unclear to himself, to have the Elf's psychological portrait.
The results surprised him beyond belief. From the fine curlicues of runes, Haddami weaved a portrait of an exceptionally noble and likeable person, perhaps too dreamy, and open to the point of vulnerability. To Haladdin's objections the graphologist insisted that his analysis of Eloar's other notes on topography and logistics only confirmed his conclusions; there was no mistake.
Finally, Haladdin lost his patience. "If so, your entire method isn't worth a damn!" he stated, and then described to the startled expert what he had seen in Teshgol, sparing him no grisly detail.
"Listen, doctor," somewhat haggard Haddami said after a pause, "I still insist – it wasn't him there, in that Teshgol of yours…"
"What do you mean, it wasn't him?! Perhaps he personally hadn't raped an eight-year-old girl before slitting her throat, but he commanded the people who did!"
"No, no, Haladdin, that's not at all what I mean! See, this is a deep, unimaginably deep (for us humans) split of personality. Imagine for a moment that you had to participate in something like Teshgol – just had to. You have a mother whom you love dearly; with the Elves, it can't be otherwise, since children are very few and every member of society is truly invaluable. I suspect that you'd do everything possible to keep any knowledge of this nightmare from her, and knowing the Elves' perceptiveness, simple lying or even withholding information would not be enough. This would require you to really turn into another person. Two totally different personalities in one creature – for internal and external consumption, so to speak. Do you understand me?"
"To be honest, not really. Split personalities are not my field of expertise."
Strangely, apparently it was this conversation that pointed Haladdin towards the solution to the main problem he has been working on, and this solution shocked him with its primitiveness. It had been lying right there, on the surface, and now it seemed to him that he had been deliberately looking away, pretending not to see it. That evening the doctor got back to the tower to which they have been assigned late at night; the hosts were already in bed, but the fire was still burning in the hearth, and he sat there motionless, staring fixedly at the orange embers. He did not even notice when the baron appeared by his side.
"Listen, Haladdin, you look upset. Want a drink?"
"Yes… I suppose I do."
The local vodka burned his mouth and rolled along his spine like a spasm; he wiped his eyes and looked for a place to spit. The drink did not make him feel better, but did add a measure of detachment. Tangorn disappeared into the dark and returned with another stool.
"More?"
"No, thank you."
"Did something happen?"
"Yes. I've figured out how to plant our little gift on the Elves."
"So?"
"So now I'm pondering the eternal question of whether the ends justify the means."
"Hmm… can be either way, depending on the circumstances."
"Precisely. A mathematician would say that stated generally, the problem lacks a solution. Therefore, instead of a clear directive the One