Stephen King – The Dark Tower

Eddie thoughthe could, at least, and it occurred to him that his brother Henry would have

made an absolutely wonderful Breaker. Always assuming he’d been allowed to take along

his heroin and his Creedence Clearwater Revival albums, that was.

A longer pause from Ted, then a rueful sort of laugh.

“I believe it’s time to make a long story a little shorter. We went through the door, leave it at that. If you’ve done it, you know it can be very unpleasant, if the door’s not in tip-top

working order. And the door between Santa Mira, California, and Thunderclap was in

better shape than some I’ve been through since.

“For a moment there was only darkness on the other side, and the howl of what the taheen

call desert-dogs. Then a cluster of lights went on and we saw these…thesethings with the

heads of birds and weasels and one with the head of a bull, horns and all. Jace screamed,

and so did I. Dave Ittaway turned and tried to run, but Armitage grabbed him. Even if he

hadn’t, where was there to go? Back through the door? It was closed, and for all I know,

that’s a one-way. The only one of us who never made a sound was Tanya, and when she

looked at me, what I saw in her eyes and read in her thoughts was relief. Because we knew,

you see. Not all the questions were answered, but the two that mattered were. Where were

we? In another world. When were we coming back? Never in life. Our money would sit in

the Seaman’s of San Francisco until it turned into millions, and no one would ever spend it.

We were in for the long haul.

“There was a bus there, with a robot driver named Phil. ‘My name’s Phil, I’m over the hill,

but the best news is that I never spill,’ he said. He smelled like lightning and there were all sorts of discordant clicking sounds coming from deep in his guts. Old Phil’s dead now,

dumped in the train and robot graveyard with God alone knows how many others, but

they’ve got enough mechanized help to finish what they’ve started, I’m sure.

“Dick fainted when we came out on Thunderclap-side, but by the time we could see the

lights of the compound, he’d come around again. Tanya had his head in her lap, and I

remember how gratefully he was looking up at her. It’s funny what you remember, isn’t it?

They checked us in at the gate. Assigned us our dorms, assigned us our suites, saw that we

were fed…and a damned fine meal it was. The first of many.

“The next day, we went to work. And, barring my little ‘vacation in Connecticut,’ we’ve

been working ever since.”

Another pause. Then:

“God help us, we’ve been working ever since. And, God forgive us, most of us have been

happy. Because the only thing talent wants is to be used.”

Nine

He tells them of his first few shifts in The Study, and his realization—not gradual but

almost immediate—that they are not here to search out spies or read the thoughts of

Russian scientists, “or any of that space-shot nonsense,” as Dinky would say (not that

Dinky was there at first, although Sheemie was). No, what they are doing

isbreakingsomething. He can feel it, not just in the sky above Algul Siento but everywhere

around them, even under their feet.

Yet he is content enough. The food is good, and although his sexual appetites have

subsided quite a bit over the years, he’s not a bit averse to the odd bonk, just reminding

himself every time that sim sex is really nothing but accessorized masturbation. But then,

he’s had the odd bonk with the odd whore over the years, as many men living on the road

have, and he could testify that that sort of sex is also not much different than masturbation; you’re putting it to her just as hard as you can, the sweat pouring off you, and she’s going

“Baby-baby-baby,” and all the time wondering if she ought to gas the car and trying to

remember which day is double stamps at the Red & White. As with most things in life, you

have to use your imagination, and Ted can do that, he’s good at the old visualization thing,

thank you oh so very much. He likes the roof over his head, he likes the company—the

guards are guards, yeah, but he believes them when they say it’s as much their job to keep

bad stuff from getting in as it is to make sure the Breakers don’t get out. He likes most of

the inmates, too, and realizes after a year or two that the inmates need him in some strange

way. He’s able to comfort them when they get the mean reds; he’s able to assuage their

crampy waves of homesickness with an hour or so of murmured conversation. And surely

this is a good thing. Maybe it’salla good thing—certainly it feelslike a good thing. To be

homesick is human, but to Break is divine. He tries to explain to Roland and his tet, but the best he can do, the closest he can come, is to say it’s like finally being able to scratch that out-of-reach place on your back that always drives you crazy with its mild but persistent

itch. He likesto go to The Study, and so do all the others. He likes the feeling of sitting there, of smelling the good wood and good leather, of searching…searching…and then, suddenly,

aahhh.There you are. You’re hooked in, swinging like a monkey on a limb. You’re

breaking,baby, and to break is divine.

Dinky once said that The Study was the only place in the world where he really felt in

touch with himself, and that was why he wanted to see it shut down.Burneddown, if

possible. “Because I know the kind of shit I get up to when I’m in touch with myself,” he

told Ted. “When I, you know, really get in the groove.” And Ted knew exactly what he was

talking about. Because The Study was alwaystoo good to be true. You sat down, maybe

picked up a magazine, looked at pictures of models and margarine, movie stars and motor

cars, and you felt your mind rise.The Beam was all around, it was like being in some vast corridor full of force, but your mind always rose to the roof and when it got there it found

that big old sliding groove.

Maybe once, just after thePrimwithdrew and Gan’s voice still echoed in the rooms of the

macroverse, the Beams were smooth and polished, but those days are gone. Now the Way

of the Bear and the Turtle is lumpy and eroded, full of coves and cols and bays and cracks,

plenty of places to get your fingers in and take hold, and sometimes you dragat it and

sometimes you can feel yourself worming your way intoit like a drop of acid that can think.

Allthese sensations are intensely pleasurable. Sexy.

And for Ted there’s something else, as well, although he doesn’t know he’s the only one

who’s got it until Trampas tells him. Trampas nevermeansto tell him anything, but he’s got

this lousy case of eczema, you see, and it changes everything. Hard to believe a flaky scalp

might be responsible for saving the Dark Tower, but the idea’s not entirely farfetched.

Not entirely farfetched at all.

Ten

“There are about a hundred and eighty full-time personnel at work in the Algul,” Ted said.

“I’m not the guy to tell anyone how to do his job, but that’s something you may want to

write down, or at least remember. Roughly speaking, it’s sixty per eight-hour shift and split twenty-twenty-twenty. Taheen have the sharpest eyes and generally man the watchtowers.

Humes patrol the outer run of fence. With guns, mind you—hard calibers. Top-side there’s

Prentiss, the Master, and Finli o’ Tego, the Security Chief—hume and taheen,

respectively—but most of the floaters are can-toi…the low men, you understand.

“Most low men don’t get along with the Breakers; a little stiff camaraderie is the best they

can do. Dinky told me once that they’re jealous of us because we’re what he calls ‘finished

humes.’ Like the hume guards, the can-toi wear thinking-caps when they’re on duty so we

can’t prog them. The fact is most Breakers haven’t tried to prog anyone or anything but the

Beam in years, and maybe can’t, anymore; the mind is also a muscle, and like any other, it

atrophies if you don’t use it.”

A pause. A click on the tape. Then:

“I’m not going to be able to finish. I’m disappointed but not entirely surprised. This will

have to be my last story, folks. I’m sorry.”

A low sound. A sipping sound, Susannah was quite sure; Ted having another drink of

water.

“Have I told you that the taheen don’t need the thinking-caps? They speak perfectly good