Locus Solus Read online

  After leading the warrior through darkened stairways, Christel opened the doors to the perron, then the gates of the park, with two keys obtained beforehand, giving her assailant at once full liberty and full pardon.

  Instead of availing himself of such a tempting chance to carry out the kidnapping that was to have made his fortune, Aag was prompted by the eleven brothers’ change of heart related in the Kaempe Viser to throw himself at Christel’s feet and express his gratitude and repentance. Then, as the young woman returned silently to her quarters, he made off into the night.

  Adopting this subject, which provided him with the desired murky crypt, Canterel chose a very bare site in his park, where the breezes that blew across it were observed to be remarkably changeable in direction. These continual changes could not but favor the numerous comings and goings the punner would have to make in executing the picture. He had the whole area which he intended to use made perfectly and absolutely flat — then waited patiently for his forecasts to show a future period, beginning at the end of one sunset, of two hundred and forty hours without rain or storms. For the experiment would be inconceivable in excessive wind, and a shower, heavy or otherwise, would have upset many of the calculations by making the aerostat’s envelope heavier and by dimming the mirrors and the lens.

  When the time came, he brought the aerial paving beetle to the place where the breezes blew, together with a large crate containing the teeth extracted since the discovery of his two magnetic metals. There, with his meteorological predictions before him, he devoted himself during one whole night to the appalling labor of accurately sorting out the many subtle shades of his dental material; this he did by the strange, prodigious light of a special lamp he had recently invented, which had revolutionized the world of studios and academies by enabling any painter to work with the same confidence after the stars had come out as by full daylight. He had deliberately set aside the evening as the starting point of the hour hand’s twenty prophetic revolutions, so as to spend the long hours of darkness at his complex preparations. This would necessarily be a time of idleness for the punner which, by starting work on the following dawn and finishing it on the evening of the tenth day, would avail itself of all the utilizable daylight within the forecasted period, without losing any of it.

  Careful not to waste a moment, he set about planning the genesis of his work of art, glancing from time to time at a sketch in oils, made to his specifications by a careful portrait painter, who had laid on a varying amount of each color according to the number of teeth or roots it represented. Leaving the site of the future mosaic empty, he sprinkled the constituent teeth of every shade around it, ready to be snapped up in the paving beetle’s various peregrinations. The teeth were judiciously disposed beforehand in the precise orientation their various contours assigned them in the picture; similarly with the roots, which were always separated from their crowns on the spot, being cut off with a little saw designed for the purpose.

  In conjunction with this absorbing activity of sowing teeth, Canterel regulated, to nearly a thousandth of a second, the delicate gears of a special supplementary motor mechanism with which he had provided each of the nine chronometers; once wound up, they would run for a full two hundred and thirty-three hours — a precautionary period somewhat longer, in view of the year’s solar phase, than the time the venture was to take between its first dawn and its final dusk.

  When a breeze was due to spring up in a given direction, at a certain fraction of a minute, the lens, moved by its special chronometer, would concentrate the solar rays upon the yellow substance — maintaining its calorific position for a longer or shorter period which would depend on the clarity of the atmosphere, the thermal power of the sun (proportional to the curve of its evolution) and above all on the relative opacity and length of occultation of any cloud that passed over its burning disc. In the part of his labor connected with the lens, the professor once and for all allowed for the fine shadows cast on the ocher substance by some of the silken threads of the net.

  A great deal of hard work was involved in the regulation of the valve’s chronometer. As a violent gust might well have carried the paving beetle away while it was at rest, it had to be partially deflated now and then, quite apart from its aerial peregrinations, solely for the purpose of making the whole apparatus heavier with a view to greater resistance and stability. This fact would have a direct repercussion on the function of the lens, which would be obliged to dazzle the yellow substance for a longer period in order to make up the lost hydrogen.

  Lower down, the work of the two discs dedicated to attracting and releasing the teeth was easier to regulate. On the other hand, the adjustment of the three chronometers belonging to the inner extensions of the claws involved Canterel in appalling calculations. As for the mirrors, their perfectly regular motions were designed merely to follow the sun’s path; each day their overall orientation would be changed a little on account of the daily alterations in the sun’s apparent path caused by the inclination of the plane of the equator to that of the ecliptic.

  Between sunset and sunrise the apparatus always had to remain stationary and quite untouched, for the chronometers would be set in advance, up to and including the last day. Their dials were deliberately left visible so that it would always be possible to know that their movements were free from the slightest irregularity and were continuing to function properly, giving the correct time.

  Canterel finished his preparations at cockcrow, then, to balance the aerostat, filled it with a basic supply of hydrogen obtained in the ordinary way, without using the ocher substance at all. By profiting from every caprice of the wind, the paving beetle was to complete the mosaic by nightfall on the tenth day, and it would exactly reproduce, on a larger scale, the sketch done in oils, except that four thin lines would be missing, one from each side. However, the insignificant absence of these lines would not harm the subject as a whole, and was deliberately chosen in preference to anything else. As, perforce, they would not be used, the teeth originally destined for the picture’s extreme outer edge were left out and thrown away. Then the professor, who had publicly announced his plans, threw open the gates of his estate so that witnesses might come at any time to watch the device making its aerial trips and verify the complete absence of any deception. Around the fascinating spot, a cord was stretched over low pegs to form a polygonal barrier designed to keep visitors far enough away to prevent any perceptible interference with the breezes. Finally the punner was poised over a cream eyetooth, waiting for a moment to make use, motu proprio, of the first favorable breath of wind.

  The experiment, now nearing its end, had already lasted seven days, and so far, thanks to the marvelous adjustment of its chronometers, the itinerant device had always conveyed teeth or roots to the intended places. Sometimes the journeys succeeded one another quite rapidly, owing to the continually capricious behavior of the wind; often, also, the breeze blew interminably in the same direction and the apparatus waited hours for an opportunity to resume its flight. Small groups of outsiders arrived from time to time and, while Canterel was talking, several people had unobtrusively approached to watch for the aerostat’s next ascent.

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  As the professor was finishing his impromptu dissertation, a sharp sound, already familiar to us, drew our attention to the three claws supporting the punner. The gray disc, obeying the pressure of its rod, which was set in motion by the supplementary mechanism of the chronometer at the bottom of the bar, had descended again and just pressed itself against the blue one, and the root which had recently served as the apparatus’s target, was now adhering beneath it, lifted a moment before by the sudden magnetization.

  The lens swiveled as usual to produce the supplement of hydrogen — then turned a second time as the paving beetle flew away carrying the root.

  A fairly gentle breeze drove the punner toward the feather displayed in the warrior’s hat; just at the righ
t moment the valve went into action, and as the apparatus settled down it released its light and scanty prey by separating the discs. Thus it completed a subtly shaded area of pale pink forming the edge of the feather, whose central rib was made of scarlet roots. Since the claws had found three coral-red supports of equal height, none of their delicate internal appendices had emerged.

  Almost at once the lens, whose partial revolutions were always in a clockwise direction, made another lift-producing motion, followed by a second quarter-turn.

  The paving beetle continued in a straight line along the axis of its last trip and, with the valve’s help, fell upon a marvelous canine whiter than a pearl — which, as Canterel told us, came from the dazzling set of a ravishing American lady.

  Just as the magnetic field came into operation with the closing of the discs, a rapidly moving cloud completely covered the sun’s face, leading to various disturbances in the atmospheric layers and causing new air currents to circulate.

  The lens quickly returned to its active position.

  Canterel had foreseen the passage of this veil of mist from the beginning, and had adjusted the gears of the relevant chronometer accordingly. So the concentrating lens held its operative position much longer than on the two previous occasions, when the sun’s heat had been unobscured by any haze, and a few seconds had sufficed to generate a plentiful supply of hydrogen.

  When the punner had ceased becoming lighter, it silently took wing and, with the help of a sudden gust of wind, swooped down to the dove in the dream to complete one wing tip by lodging the white strip in position. This time, at the end of the flight, one of the claws’ interior needles descended considerably in obedience to its chronometer and touched the ground with its inoffensive tip. By this means equilibrium was preserved, since the other claws were higher up, resting upon two teeth of equal level.

  The aerostat, which the valve had just deflated, was filled again, then lifted by the prolonged intervention of the valve, and as the needle extension returned automatically into its claw, the device continued in the same direction to seize a very even blue tooth resembling the one which, according to the chronicles of the second empire, was the sole disfigurement of the Countess Castiglione’s splendid masticatory apparatus and constituted this matchless beauty’s single, sensational imperfection.

  At the moment the cloud, gliding rapidly on, ceased to obscure the sun, which regained its full force.

  This reappearance marked the end of the contrary air currents that had manifested themselves during the temporary eclipse, and the breeze returned approximately to its former direction.

  No prolonged effort of the lens was required to make the itinerant machine take off; it gracefully darted to the warrior’s breeches, where a sharp movement of the valve caused it to alight.

  Here the claws found three very uneven landing places, consisting of the ground and two ultramarine teeth of different thicknesses; however, at the instigation of their respective chronometers, two needles had dipped unequally beforehand and now the longer one touched the ground, while the other rested upon the tooth of smaller volume.

  This latest indigo installment fell exactly where it was required, and the balloon, quickly provided with a supplementary lift, pursued its rectilinear course toward a huge and hideous black molar, round which the punner gently set down its claws, all three alike deprived a moment before of visible needles.

  Then, declaring that, according to his recollection, a very long wait would be necessary before the next automatic deambulation could be witnessed, Canterel, with measured steps, led us to another part of the vast establishment.

  * * *

  * The Knight

  3

  The professor had chosen as his objective a kind of gigantic diamond sticking out at the very end of the promenade, which had often attracted our attention already from afar by its prodigious brilliance.

  This monstrous jewel, two meters high by three wide, curved into the form of an ellipse, gave out, under the full radiance of the sun, an almost unbearable luster, flashing in all directions. Cut in facets like a real precious stone, it was held firmly in place by a very slightly raised artificial rock in which its relatively tiny base was embedded. Various objects seemed to be moving inside it. Little by little, as we approached, we caught vague strains of music consisting of a strange sequence of melodic passages, arpeggios and ascending and descending scales, which created a marvelous effect.

  In reality, as we realized when we were nearby, the diamond was simply an enormous container filled with water. There could be no doubt but that some unusual element had entered into the imprisoned liquid’s composition, for it was this rather than the walls of the glass that gave forth all the radiance, whose presence could be detected throughout its depth.

  With one’s eyes placed against any one of the facets, the interior of the container could be scanned in a single circular glance.

  In the center, a slender, graceful woman, in a flesh-colored cos­tume, was standing upright on the bottom, completely submerged. Swaying her head gently from side to side, she struck many attitudes full of aesthetic charm. Her lips wore a gay smile and she seemed to be breathing freely in the liquid element which enveloped her on every side. Her superb head of blond hair, hanging completely loose, had a tendency to swell above her, though without touching the surface. Each strand, surrounded by a kind of thin watery sheath, vibrated at her slightest movement as the layers of liquid rubbed against it — and the string thus formed gave forth a high or low note according to its length. This phenomenon explained the charming music we had heard on approaching the diamond. The skillful young woman produced it at will, expertly modulating its crescendos and diminuendos by varying the force and rapidity with which she oscillated her neck. The melodious rising and toppling of the scales, runs and arpeggios rippled over a compass of at least three octaves. Often, limiting herself to a slight and gentle rolling of her head, the performer remained confined within a very restricted register. Then, swaying her hips to impart an ample and continuous rotation to her bosom, she employed all the resources of her curious instrument, which then displayed its maximum range and volume.

  This mysterious accompaniment ideally suited the young woman’s sculptural poses, so that she seemed like some disturbing water nymph. Because of the liquid medium in which the sounds were propagated, they had an extraordinarily plangent quality.

  From time to time an astonishing creature swam gaily in front of her, exploring the enormous tank — evidently a terrestrial animal from its structure, which was that of a quadruped with claws — whose remarkable skin, pink and entirely hairless, was baffling to the observer — but a specific and categorical piece of information was furnished by its eyes, indisputably those of a cat.

  On the right, submerged at a depth of five decimeters, was a flimsy object hanging from a thread. This could be nothing other than the internal remains of a human face, without any vestige of bone, flesh or skin. A slender, almost invisible frame, delicately supporting every tiny part, saw to it that the original shape of the whole thing was preserved, and the positions of cheeks, mouth and eyes could be plainly seen, merely by the configuration of a certain plexus. Each fiber possessed a watery envelope resembling a thicker version of the fine sheaths on the hair of the water nymph. The thread, dividing into three at its very bottom, supported the whole at three peripheral points on the frame, situated just below the brain.

  Continuing our inspection to the right, we perceived the tiny shaft of an absolutely vertical column held motionless between two layers of water.

  A long, very pointed, metal horn, with several holes pierced in it, lay on the bottom of the enormous tank.

  Canterel drew us to the left and posted us in front of other facets, where we were able to view a series of small figures at close range; sometimes alone, sometimes in pairs or groups, they rose vertically through the water like Cart
esian divers, then, without reaching the surface, fell back to the bottom to rest there briefly before making a fresh ascent.

  The professor pointed to two united figures first of all and gave us the following account of them:

  “The athlete Vyrlas hinders the flight of a powerful bird which, as a consequence of its special criminal training, is attempting to strangle Alexander the Great.”

  A whole drama was evoked by the object in question. The unconscious hero of the tragic scene was sleeping softly on a luxurious oriental couch. A golden thread, fixed to the wall beside his pillow, was wound in a running knot about his neck, with its free end attached to the claw of a gigantic green bird. The latter, with wings outspread, seemed about to tighten the deadly noose by means of a hard tug that it was preparing to make in the required direction. A steadfast rescuer, muscled like an athlete, stood upright stretching out his two hands as though to seize the murderous bird, which the thread, evidently interchanging its function, was sustaining in mid-air by an inner stiffness hidden from our eyes.