No! Saul backed away from the desk, felt the chair catch and tilt backwards, teetering. He was on the edge of the chasm. The chasm stretched on and on to either side of him, eternally widening, eternally deepening. Saul fought for balance, spinning his arms. The chair fell backwards.
Saul was clinging to the edge of the chasm with a feeble, slipping grasp, his legs dangling into space. His office was gone.
The chair had tumbled over the edge. It was still falling beneath him, turning end over end, deeper and deeper into the dull red shadows.
Just let go! he shouted at himself. Let go and it will go away. You will not fall.
Liar! Saul screamed, hanging on, gritting his teeth at the agony; the bare rock was sliding from his hands, his body was swinging to and fro. The air was thick and humid, hard to breathe.
Every time he sucked it in, it was like warm water flowing into his lungs.
I’m small, he thought. I’m helpless. Nothing I can do will change anything.
Let go! You can do absolutely anything if you let your goddamn self do it. Why are you torturing yourself? You jerk!
Above him the sky shone dingy white; he stared at it a long time before he realized it wasn’t the sky. He focused his eyes on it and found it was only ten feet above his head. It was the ceiling of his office; he found he was lying on the floor, the chair having tipped over. He pulled himself to a sitting position, grasping the edge of his desk; looking over, he realized he’d knocked his desk terminal onto the floor.
Damn it! he thought.
Saul got to his feet, feeling like he had gears and wires in his body instead of muscles. Every movement had to be calculated.
Picking his left foot up carefully, he swung it forward and placed it back upon the carpet. Shifting his weight, he followed with his right foot, moving slowly, making his way around the desk to pick up his terminal.
“Mr. Kalman, are you alright?”
Saul looked up. He was in the lobby of the building, facing a night-duty technician. She was about 22 years old, with long blond hair and, Saul noticed, sharply-defined and gracefully pointed breasts. He stared at them a long moment, breathing quickly, feeling the lust swell up inside him. “I want you,” he said to her.
She stared back at him without understanding. “What?”
“I want you,” he said. “I want, I want to make love to you.”
Saul had difficulty getting the words out, he was so out of breath. It felt like he’d just run down 20 flights of stairs.
The woman took her time before answering. She finally said, “I’m married, Mr. Kalman. My wife and I have a child.”
“Your wife?”
“I’m a lesbian.”
Saul grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her as hard as he could against the wall. Her head hit with a loud smack but she was not stunned. She made a hard little ball out of her right hand and swung.
There was a flash of light, and Saul found himself on the floor, his head cradled desperately between his bent elbows. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry … I shouldn’t … I’m sorry I shouldn’t …”
The technician was gone. Saul was all alone. He sat up and looked around, confused. One of his eyes was puffy and sore.
It’s happening again, he thought. My God, how much Mataphin did I take?
The DeTox! I have the DeTox! It’s, it’s in my car.
Saul stood up and started walking, but the gravity was too light; if he stepped too hard he knew he’d bounce right up off the floor. He’d fall to the ceiling – he knew this, it seemed to have happened before. Every day, ever since the gravity had changed, Saul had been forced to walk cautiously or he’d fall forward, do a somersault in mid-air, and land on his back on the ceiling. There he’d lie, helpless, until someone noticed him hanging there and helped peel him down.
Careful, he told himself. Step carefully. He noticed that horrible sensation, felt it start to happen. Easy! he thought.
Slow down! But the giddy, helpless feeling welled up and gravity just let go. He felt weightless for about 2 seconds then there was a thud and he was on his back, looking up at the carpeted floor and the lobby furniture and his pale, withered bare feet which he’d somehow left behind.
No, he was looking down at his hands. They were resting on the table in front of him, beside a half-cup of coffee. He’d been there for hours, drinking coffee, waiting for the drug to wear off. God, he thought, this is terrible. This is terrible. He moved his shaking right hand over and grabbed the cup, holding it carefully.
“Your Mercedes 4000A air launch has arrived,” the waitress told him.
Saul looked up at the human waitress, startled. “What did you say?”
“I said, do you want me to warm up your coffee?” The dark-haired woman stood poised and ready to pour, holding the crystal pot above his cup.
“Oh,” Saul said. “Oh, yes, thank you.” He watched as she poured, admiring the way she did it, glad that this place still had human servers. Through the window of the restaurant, across the street, he saw the glowing red sign: TELCRON SYSTEMS, INC. He had never made it to his car, to the DeTox. He wondered if he ever would. God, he thought, this is going to be a long night.
Let go, he told himself.
“I beg your pardon?” the waitress said. “Let go of what?”
Saul looked up into the woman’s eyes, which were a warm brown. “I don’t know,” he told her, feeling like a lost child.
“I’m very high right now on a professional creativity stimulant.
I’ve been under a great deal of strain and I took too much. I don’t know what I’m doing. There’s some detoxification tablets in my car, but I can’t get to them.”
The waitress sighed. She glanced around somewhere behind Saul, then back at him. “Where’s your car, sweets?”
“In the car park, across the street.”
“I can have somebody go get them for you,” she said.
“You’ll also have to have somebody keep me here … I may try to wander off.”
“Okay. Just don’t get excited. I’ll have Ted go get your pills.”
A tall man with long curly hair stepped up to Saul’s table and held out his hand; Saul gave him the keys and described the car. A moment later the same man was shaking him. Other people were standing around staring at him with alarmed expressions. The man gave him his keys back along with the DeTox dispenser.
Quickly, before he could get lost again, Saul popped several of the little tablets into his mouth and swallowed them with lukewarm coffee.
The waitress refilled his cup. “Are you sure you should have taken that many?” she asked. There was a soft, genuine concern in her voice. It kindled a small, warm feeling somewhere inside him, a fire lost in a deep cavern.
“I need that many,” he said. When he spoke, he realized his voice was horse and that his throat felt raw – it was as if he’d been screaming. The people who had been standing around and staring at him now turned away and resumed their places at their tables.
Saul turned the DeTox dispenser over in his hand, staring at the label with tired eyes. The dosage recommendations read: “Take 1 or 2 tabs as needed.” Underneath, in bold letters, it read: NOTICE: DO NOT USE THIS IN CONJUNCTION WITH CREATIVITY
STIMULANTS SUCH AS RHIDALF, MATAPHIN, AND SULIN-C.
INTENSIFICATION OF EFFECT WILL OCCUR.
Saul let out a cry of panic, dropping the dispenser. The restaurant vanished. He struggled, unable to breathe at all, feeling dizzy and weak and sick to his stomach. He was hanging limp and helpless over the endless chasm, tears streaking his face; he gave up his tenuous grasp and let himself fall painless and free into the warm, comforting gulf. The enormous weight was gone. The taut, heavy wires that had bound him were severed. The rules had been wiped away.
25. SHEILA Dodd wished that Danny Marauder would stop by, or that Savina would leave him another message. The second coming of Jesus had not brought Savina back to her family despite all Toby’s prayers, the prayers of Toby’s family, and the prayers of every single member of Toby’s church. Dodd was getting very worried about her.
He decided it was time to go by the euthanasia center again and see if he could find someone, anyone, who knew about Savina. He didn’t care if it meant spending another night in the trash dumpster.