The Last Ringbearer

and the Mirror – ‘the World is Text…’ You will now drop your palantir into Orodruin, the palantir in Lorien will burn the Mirror with Eternal Fire, and the magical world of Arda will perish forever.”

“Why would it perish?” the palantir asked after a second.

“Ah, I see. Apparently, you have dealt with Sharya-Rana, correct?”

“Why would you think so?” There was a hint of surprise in Haladdin’s voice.

“Because that is his theory of Arda’s make-up: two worlds, a ‘physical’ one and a ‘magical’ one, joined through the Mirror. The Elves, having crossed from the other world into this one, will unavoidably undermine its very existence with their magic, so the Mirror should be destroyed in order to isolate those worlds to their mutual benefit. Close enough?”

“Do you mean to say that it’s all a lie?” Haladdin responded coldly.

“Not at all! It is one of the theories of the World’s structure, but no more than that. Sharya- Rana, whom I respect greatly, held this theory, but to act in accordance with it…”

“What do the other theories say? Please tell me, esteemed Saruman; we still have time. When it’s time for me to drop the palantir into Orodruin, I’ll give you warning.”

“You are very gracious, Haladdin, thank you. Very well – the mainstream opinion is that the ‘physical’ and ‘magical’ worlds are indeed separate and the Mirror and the palantiri did indeed originate in the magical one, but they are not here, in the physical world, by chance. Those crystals constitute the very foundation of that other world’s existence, like that fairy- tale needle – remember, the one hidden in an egg which is hidden in a duck which is hidden in a hare which is hidden in a chest? By destroying the Mirror with the palantiri you will simply destroy the entire magical world. The irony is that they have been placed in this non- magical world precisely for safekeeping, just like the chest in the fairy tale. Of course, you might say that these are that other magical world’s problems for which you care not. I have to disappoint you – the worlds are symmetrical.” “You mean to say,” Haladdin spoke slowly, “that there’s something which is the basis of our world’s existence that’s been placed for safekeeping in that other, magical world? Our own needle in an egg and so forth?”

“Precisely. By destroying the other world you will doom ours. Sometimes twins are born conjoined; obviously, if one kills the other, he, too, will soon die of blood poisoning. When you drop the palantir into Orodruin’s maw, the other world will perish instantly, while this one will start dying a long and painful death. Nobody knows how long this dying will last – a minute, a year, a century – would you like to find out?”

“That’s if you’re right and Sharya-Rana is wrong.”

“Certainly. Have you decided to find out experimentally which theory is correct? A radical experiment, as they call it in your circles?”

The palantir was silent – Haladdin was at a loss for words.

“Listen, Haladdin,” Saruman continued with apparent curiosity, “have you really started all this to put the Elves in their place? Aren’t you overestimating their importance?”

“Something like this is better to overdo.”

“Then you do believe that the Elves are about to control the entire Middle Earth? My dear doctor, this is bizarre! Whatever the Elves’ capabilities are – and they are greatly exaggerated by rumor, believe me – there’s only about fifteen thousand of them, perhaps twenty thousand, in the entire Middle Earth. Think about it – a few thousand, and there will be no more; while there are millions of Men, and their numbers keep growing. Believe me that Men are already strong enough not to be afraid of Elves; this is some kind of an inferiority complex on your part!..”

Saruman continued after a pause: “Sharya-Rana is correct that our Arda is unique: it is the only World which allows direct contact between the physical and magical worlds, where their inhabitants – Elves and Men – can talk to each other. Just think of the possibilities this offers! In a very short time you and the Elves will live together in harmony, enriching each other with your cultural achievements.”

“Live as directed by the Far West?” Haladdin smirked.

“That depends on you. Do you really lack minimal self-respect, enough to think yourselves clay in the hands of some otherworldly forces? I’m honestly ashamed to hear this.”

“So a time will come when the Elves will look at Men as something other than dung under their feet? I wish I could believe you!”

“There was a time when Men would eat anyone not from their cave, but now you have learned to behave a little differently, haven’t you? That’s exactly how it will be with you and the Elves, if you give it time. You are so very different, and that’s precisely what makes you need each other, believe me.” The palantir fell silent; Haladdin slumped as if a rod had been taken out of his spine.

“Who’s that, sir?” Tzerlag, standing some ten paces away, lower on the slope, looked at the crystal with superstitious fear.

“Saruman, Lord of Isengard, Head of the White Council, and so on and so forth… He’s trying to talk me out of dropping the palantir into the Eternal Fire, lest the whole world perish.”

“Is he lying?”

“I think so,” Haladdin answered after some thought.

In reality he was not sure of that at all; the opposite, in fact. Saruman could very well have said something like “the Nazgul have lost the fight and decided to destroy the world with your hands on their way out” and persuasively corroborate that theory (how did Haladdin know that the Nazgul were the good guys? Only from Sharya-Rana’s words); he could, but he did not, and somehow that fact made Haladdin trust everything the White Wizard was saying. “Have you decided to find out experimentally which theory is correct?” Yes, that’s how it comes out.

He has succeeded, Haladdin realized with horror. I have doubts, and therefore I have lost the right to act: to interpret doubt for the defendant’s benefit is too deeply ingrained in me. To do what I intended while knowing of the possible consequences (which I now do, thanks to Saruman) one has to be either God or a madman, and I’m neither. Nor can I do it and say later that I was following orders – that’s not my style… Plus you really don’t want to fry that Elvish beauty with your own hands, right? Right, I don’t, to put it mildly – is that a plus or a minus?

Forgive me, guys… forgive me, Sharya-Rana, and you, Baron! (In his mind he went down on his knees.) Everything you’ve done has been for naught. I know that I’m betraying you and your memory, but the choice I have to make is beyond me… or any Man – only the One can make such a choice. All I can do is block my palantir from transmitting and drop it into Orodruin; let what may come do so without my participation. I’m not cut out to decide the