Tears welled up in my eyes, and in my imagination I saw these many innocents, whose lives had been snatched away, assembled in a group just as I had always seen them in my nightmares. They stood stock-still and had a faraway expression on their faces, as if the scene were a snapshot of heaven. Yet even if they did not complain about their terrible fate, I could tell by looking at them that they wanted to get out of this cursed number cruncher so that they could finally find some peace. At least that!
I decided to delete the diabolical program on the spot. It was the last honorary service that I could render the dead …
"Do you know everything now, my dear Francis?"
Pascal's voice had an ironic undertone, just as if he were mocking my success.
I turned away from the monitor and looked down from the desk. He stood at the door, his yellow eyes glowing in the darkness like molten gold. Then he sat down on his rear legs and smiled painfully. Impotent rage rose in me, because God knows I couldn't find anything funny about the situation. Despite this, or precisely because of it, I returned his smile with an ice-cold one of my own.
"Yes, Claudandus, now I know almost everything. There are only a few gaps. Perhaps you should, therefore, tell the whole story from the beginning. That would only be appropriate, wouldn't it?"
He smiled again, but this time only as if I were once again the rebellious child whose anger gave more cause for amusement than annoyance.
"Oh, you mean the famous retelling of events by the murderer to the detective before he finishes him off—or the other way around?"
"That's right: or the other way around. As you please. But please be so kind as to begin."
"There's not much to tell you, my friend. Most of it you found out for yourself. Admittedly, I backed you up a little in your investigations because I wanted you to be initiated step by step into these matters. Nevertheless, you alone are to thank that the really crucial steps toward solving the case were taken. 'Winner on points' would be the fitting expression in this regard. Now, as far as I am concerned, it can't be denied that I have been a loser all my life. Like every loser I, too, have done nothing but dream again and again of winning, just winning for once. Whether my dream will come true or not is now up to you, but we'll discuss that at greater length later."
He padded to the middle of the room and stretched himself out on the fluffy carpet. The smile vanished from his face, yielding to a thoughtful expression. Outside a roaring storm had come up.
" 'And God made the beast of the earth after his kind, and cattle after their kind, and everything that creepeth upon the earth after his kind: and God saw that it was good.' That's how God speaks of the other animals. But do you know the special animals, do you know human beings, Francis? I mean, have you ever thought seriously about them? Do you know what's really going through their minds and what they're capable of? What they're capable of when they don't do those terrible things that the so-called good people criticize? Yes, yes, you no doubt believe that they can be divided into two groups, into the good and the bad. Into those who construct nuclear weapons and provoke wars, and those who protest against the slaughter of whales in the oceans and collect donations for the starving. You have never seen what it is like inside a human mind, and yet you believe you know that within dwell two different mental types. Well, you know nothing, dear Francis, you know nothing at all ... I will tell you a story of human beings and animals, not a detective story but a true story …"
He now spoke very softly and pensively, as if he were far, far away in another place and time. All the while he seemed to hardly take notice of me, and gave the impression that he was talking to himself.
"I was born thirteen years ago, and I can assure you that I very much liked the world as it was then. I liked life, I liked the sun and the rain, and even, perhaps, human beings. But that was a long time ago, and I find it very difficult to remember the happy days, to even remember the feeling of happiness.
At that time, I led an unsettled life, was born to be a stray, as they say, and had a lot of fun. One day, I happened upon this unspeakable laboratory. It exerted a magical attraction on me. I don't know what got into me, but all of a sudden I stood at the door of this cursed house and a man came up the path and opened the door for me. It was Preterius. When I realized what was going on in there, at first I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, to get as far away as possible from the inconceivable horror. But then I changed my mind. Idiot that I was, I actually resolved to observe every detail of the outrageous injustice that this monster was committing against our kind to alert both the others outside and subsequent generations. As you see, even then I was filled with a missionary zeal.
You yourself found out what happened after that from the journal of the dear professor. I would prefer not to distress you further with the repulsive details of my career as guinea pig. This chapter of my life is closed. You should only realize that what you read was reported from the perspective of the real murderer. The martyrdom that I had to suffer was in fact a thousand times crueler than a human or animal mind could ever imagine."
His eyes glistened with tears that
