He leaned back again, his expression becoming more serious.
“The trouble is, the play never ended,” he said in a low voice. “We never had the curtain call, when the players came out onstage and said ‘Hey, look! We’re just actors. What you’ve seen is just make-believe made momentarily plausible by master illusionists.’ Because we’ve never clarified our position, the audience has accepted the illusion as reality, and by that acceptance made it reality.”
“Slow up a little, love,” Ramona said, shaking her head. “You lost me on that last curve.”
“Let me try it from a slightly different angle. Any actor or con artist-or even a salesman-will tell you that to be successful, you have to believe what you’re doing. Well, to be Tambu, I had to project myself into that character. I kept asking myself, ‘What would a powerful person do in this situation?’ ‘What would a charismatic leader say to that problem?’ I did that for years, until Tambu became more familiar to me than my own character. I got so I could do Tambu without thinking, purely by reflex. Do you see what I’m saying? I became Tambu, but Tambu isn’t me!”
“I see your point,” Ramona acknowledged. “But couldn’t you also say Tambu is just another phase of your own development? I mean, I don’t think you’ve done anything as Tambu that you would have been morally against in your earlier life. In a lot of ways, he’s simply a projection of yourself.”
“I don’t know anymore,” Tambu sighed. “And that’s why I feel I’ve got to get out. Lately I find myself saying and doing things as Tambu that go completely against my grain. If I keep going, I’m afraid I’ll lose myself to him completely.”