Seri said nothing.
'Or is it called 'London'?'
Still she said nothing.
'Seri?''
'The name you give it is 'London', but we know this means J ethra. You give it other names, too.'
'What are they?'
'I can't tell you.' At last she looked at me. 'How did you know about London?'
'You let it slip once.' I was going to tell her about the ghost memories of the delirium, but somehow it seemed too difficult, too unreliable, even in my own mind. 'Do you know where London is?''
'Of course not! You made the name up!'
'What other names did I make up?'
'I don't know . . . I can't remember. Lareen and I went through the manuscript trying to change everything to places we knew. But it was very difficult.'
'Then how much of what you've taught me is true?'
'As much as possible. When you came back from the clinic you were like a vegetable. I _wanted_ you to be who you were before the treatment, but I couldn't just will it. Everything you are now is the result of Lareen's training.'
'That's what scares me,' I said.
I stared up the rising lawn to the other chalets; most were in darkness, but lights showed in a few of them. There were my fellow athanasians, my fellow vegetables. I wondered how many of them were suffering the same doubts.
Were they even yet aware that somehow their heads had been emptied of all the dusty possessions of a lifetime, then refurnished with someone else's idea of a better arrangement? I was frightened of what I had been made to think, because I was the product of my mind and I acted accordingly. What had Lareen told me before I acquired taste? Had she and Seri somehow acted in well-intended concert to instil in me beliefs I had not held before the treatment? How would I even know?
The only link with my past was that manuscript; I could not ever be complete until I read my own definition of myself.
There was a wan moon, misted by high clouds, and the gardens of the clinic had a still, monochrome quality. Seri and I walked along the familiar paths, postponing the moment when we went inside the chalet, but at last we headed hack.
I said: 'If I get the manuscript, I want to read it on my own. That's my right, I think.'
'Don't mention it again. I'll do my best to get it. All night?'
'Yes.'
'We kissed briefly as we walked, but there was still a remoteness in her.
When we were inside the chalet, she said: 'You won't remember, but before all this we were planning to visit a few islands. Would you still like to?'
'Just you and me?'
'Yes.'
'But what about you? Haven't you changed your mind about me?'
'I don't like your hair as short as that,' she said, and ruffled her fingers through my new stubble.
That night, when Seri was asleep beside me, I was wakeful. There was a quietness and solitude on the island that in a sense I had grown up with. The picture drawn by Seri and Lareen of the world outside was one of noise and activity, ships and traffic and crowded towns. I was curious to experience this, to see the stately boulevards of Jethra and the clustered old buildings of Muriseay. As I lay there I could imagine the world disposed around Collago, the endless Midway Sea and the innumerable islands. Imagining them I created them, a mental landscape that I could take on trust. I could go out from Collago, island-hop with Seri, invent the scenery and customs and peoples of each island as we came to it. An imaginative challenge lay before me.
What I knew of the world outside was similar to what I knew of myself.
From the verandah of the chalet Seri could point out the neighbouring islands, and name them, and show them to me on a map, and describe their agriculture, industries and customs, but until I actually went to them they could only ever be distant objects drawn to my attention.
Thus was I to myself: a distant object, chanted and described and thoroughly identified, but one which so far I had been unable to visit.
Before I went out to the islands I had some exploring of my own to do.
20
Lareen returned in the morning, and brought the welcome news that I was to he discharged from the clinic in five days' time. I thanked her, but I was watching to see if she produced the typewritten manuscript. If she had it with her, it remained in her bag.
Although I was restless, I settled down to a morning's work with her and Seri. Now I knew that fallibility was a virtue, I used it to strategic effect.
During lunch the two women spoke quietly together, and it seemed for a moment that Seri had put my request to her. Later, though, Lareen announced that she had work to do in the main building, and left us in the refectory.
