The Lazaret
I do not believe I really slept again that night, though I may have dozed. When dawn came, the snow had melted. Two Pelerines took the sheets away, gave me a towel with which to dry myself, and brought dry bedding. I wanted to give the Claw to them thenâmy possessions were in the bag under my cotâbut the moment seemed inappropriate. I lay down instead, and now that it was daylight, slept.
I woke again about noon. The lazaret was as quiet as it ever became; somewhere far off two men were talking and another cried out, but their voices only emphasized the stillness. I sat up and looked around, hoping to see the soldier. On my right lay a man whose close-cropped scalp made me think at first that he was one of the slaves of the Pelerines. I called to him, but when he turned his head to look at me, I saw I had been mistaken.
His eyes were emptier than any human eyes I had ever seen, and they seemed to watch spirits invisible to me. “Glory to the Group of Seventeen,” he said.
“Good morning. Do you know anything about the way this place is run?”
A shadow appeared to cross his face, and I sensed that my question had somehow made him suspicious. He answered, “All endeavors are conducted well or ill precisely in so far as they conform to Correct Thought.”
“Another man was brought in at the same time I was. I'd like to talk to him. He's a friend of mine, more or less.”
“Those who do the will of the populace are friends, though we have never spoken to them. Those who do not do the will of the populace are enemies, though we learned together as children.”
The man on my left called, “You won't get anything out of him. He's a prisoner.”
I turned to look at him. His face, though wasted nearly to a skull, retained something of humor. His stiff, black hair looked as though it had not seen a comb for months.
“He talks like that all the time. Never any other way.
Hey, you!
We're going to beat you!”
The other answered, “For the Armies of the Populace, defeat is the springboard of victory, and victory the ladder to further victory.”
“He makes a lot more sense than most of them, though,” the man on my left told me.
“You say he's a prisoner. What did he do?”
“Do? Why, he didn't die.”
“I'm afraid I don't understand. Was he selected for some kind of suicide mission?”
The patient beyond the man on my left sat upâa young woman with a thin but lovely face. “They all are,” she said. “At least, they can't go home until the war is won, and they know, really, that it will never be won.”
“External battles are already won when internal struggles are conducted with Correct Thought.”
I said, “He's an Ascian, then. That's what you meant. I've never seen one before.”
“Most of them die,” the black-haired man told me. “That's what I said.”
“I didn't know they spoke our language.”
“They don't. Some officers who came here to talk to him said they thought he'd been an interpreter. Probably he questioned our soldiers when they were captured. Only he did something wrong and had to go back to the ranks.”
The young woman said, “I don't think he's really mad. Most of them are. What's your name?”
“I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself. I'm Severian.” I almost added that I was a lictor, but I knew neither of them would talk to me if I told them that.
“I'm Foila, and this is Melito. I was of the Blue Huzzars, he a hoplite.”
“You shouldn't talk nonsense,” Melito growled. “I am a hoplite. You are a huzzar.”
I thought he appeared much nearer death than she.
“I'm only hoping we will be discharged when we're well enough to leave this place,” Foila said.
“And what will we do then? Milk somebody else's cow and herd his pigs?” Melito turned to me. “Don't let her talk deceive youâwe were volunteers, both of us. I was about to be promoted when I was wounded, and when I'm promoted I'll be able to support a wife.”
Foila called, “I haven't promised to marry you!”
Several beds away, someone said loudly, “Take her so she'll shut up about it!”
At that, the patient in the bed beyond Foila's sat up. “She will marry me.” He was big, fair skinned, and pale haired, and he spoke with the deliberation characteristic of the icy isles of the south. “I am Hallvard.”
Surprising me, the Ascian prisoner announced, “United, men and women are stronger; but a brave woman desires children, and not husbands.”
Foila said, “They fight even when they're pregnantâI've seen them dead on the battlefield.”
“The roots of the tree are the populace. The leaves fall, but the tree remains.”
I asked Melito and Foila if the Ascian were composing his remarks or quoting some literary source with which I was unfamiliar.
“Just making it up, you mean?” Foila asked. “No. They never do that. Everything they say has to be taken from an approved text. Some of them don't talk at all. The rest have thousandsâI suppose actually tens or hundreds of thousandsâof those tags memorized.”
“That's impossible,” I said.
Melito shrugged. He had managed to prop himself up on one elbow. “They do it, though. At least, that's what everybody says. Foila knows more about them than I do.”
Foila nodded. “In the light cavalry, we do a lot of scouting, and sometimes we're sent out specifically to take prisoners. You don't learn anything from talking to most of them, but just the same the General Staff can tell a good deal from their equipment and physical condition. On the northern continent, where they come from, only the smallest children ever talk the way we do.”
I thought of Master Gurloes conducting the business of our guild. “How could they possibly say something like âTake three apprentices and unload that wagon'?”
“They wouldn't say that at allâjust grab people by the shoulder, point to the wagon, and give them a push. If they went to work, fine. If they didn't, then the leader would quote something about the need for labor to ensure victory, with several witnesses present. If the person he was talking to still wouldn't work after that, then he would have him killedâprobably just by pointing to him and quoting something about the need to eliminate the enemies of the populace.”
The Ascian said, “The cries of the children are the cries of victory. Still, victory must learn wisdom.”
Foila interpreted for him. “That means that although children are needed, what they say is meaningless. Most Ascians would consider us mute even if we learned their tongue, because groups of words that are not approved texts are without meaning for them. If they admittedâeven to themselvesâthat such talk meant something, then it would be possible for them to hear disloyal remarks, and even to make them. That would be extremely dangerous. As long as they only understand and quote approved texts, no one can accuse them.”
I turned my head to look at the Ascian. It was clear that he had been listening attentively, but I could not be certain of what his expression meant beyond that. “Those who write the approved texts,” I told him, “cannot themselves be quoting from approved texts as they write. Therefore even an approved text may contain elements of disloyalty.”
“Correct Thought is the thought of the populace. The populace cannot betray the populace or the Group of Seventeen.”
Foila called, “Don't insult the populace or the Group of Seventeen. He might try to kill himself. Sometimes they do.”
“Will he ever be normal?”
“I've heard that some of them eventually come to talk more or less the way we do, if that's what you mean.”
I could think of nothing to say to that, and for some time we were quiet. There are long periods of silence, I found, in such a place, where almost everyone is ill. We knew that we had watch after watch to occupy; that if we did not say what we wished to say that afternoon there would be another opportunity that evening and another again the next morning. Indeed, anyone who talked as healthy people normally doâafter a meal, for exampleâwould have been intolerable.
But what had been said had set me thinking of the north, and I found I knew next to nothing about it. When I had been a boy, scrubbing floors and running errands in the Citadel, the war itself had seemed almost infinitely remote. I knew that most of the matrosses who manned the major batteries had taken part in it, but I knew it just as I knew that the sunlight that fell upon my hand had been to the sun. I would be a torturer, and as a torturer I would have no reason to enter the army and no reason to fear that I would be impressed into it. I never expected to see the war at the gates of Nessus (in fact, those gates themselves were hardly more than legends to me), and I never expected to leave the city, or even to leave that quarter of the city that held the Citadel.
The north, Ascia, was then inconceivably remote, a place as distant as the most distant galaxy, since both were forever out of reach. Mentally, I confused it with the dying belt of tropical vegetation that lay between our own land and theirs, although I would have distinguished the two without difficulty if Master Palaemon had asked me to in the classroom.
But of Ascia itself I had no idea. I did not know if it had great cities or none. I did not know if it was mountainous like the northern and eastern parts of our Commonwealth or as level as our pampas. I did have the impression (though I could not be sure it was correct) that it was a single land mass, and not a chain of islands like our south; and most distinct of all, I had the impression of an innumerable peopleâour Ascian's populaceâan inexhaustible swarm that almost became a creature in itself, as a colony of ants does. To think of those millions upon millions without speech, or confined to parroting proverbial phrases that must surely have long ago lost most of their meaning, was nearly more than the mind could bear. Speaking almost to myself, I said, “It must surely be a trick, or a lie, or a mistake. Such a nation could not exist.”
And the Ascian, his voice no louder than my own had been, and perhaps even softer, answered, “How shall the state be most vigorous? It shall be most vigorous when it is without conflict. How shall it be without conflict?
When it is without disagreement. How shall disagreement be banished? By banishing the four causes of disagreement: lies, foolish talk, boastful talk, and talk which serves only to incite quarrels. How shall the four causes be banished? By speaking only Correct Thought. Then shall the state be without disagreement. Being without disagreement it shall be without conflict. Being without conflict it shall be vigorous, strong, and secure.”
I had been answered, and doubly.
Miles, Foila, Melito, and Hallvard
That evening I fell prey to a fear I had been trying to put from my mind for some time. Although I had seen nothing of the monsters Hethor had brought from beyond the stars since little Severian and I had escaped from the village of the sorcerers, I had not forgotten that he was searching for me. While I traveled in the wilderness or upon the waters of Lake Diuturna, I had not been much afraid he would overtake me. Now I was traveling no longer, and I could feel the weakness in my limbs, for despite the food I had eaten I was weaker than I had ever been while starving in the mountains.
Then too, I feared Agia almost more than Hethor's notules, his salamanders and slugs. I knew her courage, her cleverness, and her malice. Any one of the scarlet-clad priestesses of the Pelerines moving between the cots might easily be she, with a poisoned stiletto beneath her gown. I slept badly that night; but though I dreamed much, my dreams were indistinct, and I will not attempt to relate them here.
I woke feeling less than rested. My fever, of which I had hardly been conscious when I came to the lazaret, and which had seemed to subside on the day previous, returned. I felt its heat in every limbâit seemed to me that I must glow, that the very glaciers of the south would melt if I came among them. I took out the Claw and clasped it to me, and for a time even held it in my mouth. My fever sank again, but left me weak and dizzied.
That morning the soldier came to see me. He wore a white gown the Pelerines had given him in place of his armor, but he appeared wholly recovered, and told me he hoped to leave the next day. I said I would like to introduce him to the acquaintances I had made in this part of the lazaret and asked if he now recalled his name.
He shook his head. “I can remember very little. I am hoping that when I go among the units of the army I will find someone there who knows me.”
I introduced him anyway, calling him Miles since I could think of nothing better. I did not know the Ascian's name either and discovered that no
one did, not even Foila. When we asked him what it was, he only said, “I am Loyal to the Group of Seventeen.”
For a time Foila, Melito, the soldier, and I chatted among ourselves. Melito seemed to like him very well, though perhaps only because of the similarity of the name I had given him to his own. Then the soldier helped me into a sitting posture, lowered his voice, and said, “Now I have to talk to you privately. As I said, I think I will leave here in the morning. From what I have seen of you, you won't be getting out for several daysâmaybe not for a couple of weeks. I may never see you again.”
“Let us hope that isn't so.”
“I hope not either. But if I can find my legion, I may be killed by the time you're well. And if I can't find it, I'll probably go into another to keep from being arrested as a deserter.” He paused.
I smiled. “And I may die here, of the fever. You didn't want to say that. Do I look as bad as poor Melito?”
He shook his head. “Not as bad, no. I think you'll make itâ”
“That's what the thrush sang while the lynx chased the hare around the bay tree.”
Now it was his turn to smile. “You're right; I was about to say that.”
“Is it a common expression in that part of the Commonwealth where you were brought up?”
The smile vanished. “I don't know. I can't remember where my home is, and that's part of the reason I have to talk to you now. I remember walking down a road with you at nightâthat's the only thing I do remember, before I came here. Where did you find me?”
“In a wood, I suppose about five or ten leagues south of here. Do you recall what I told you about the Claw as we walked?”
He shook his head. “I think I remember you mentioning such a thing, but not what you said.”
“What do you remember? Tell me all of it, and I'll tell you what I know, and what I can guess.”
“Walking with you. A lot of darkness ⦠I fell, or maybe flew through it. Seeing my own face, multiplied again and again. A girl with hair like red gold and enormous eyes.”
“A beautiful woman?”
He nodded. “The most beautiful in the world.”
Raising my voice, I asked if anyone had a mirror he would lend us for a moment. Foila produced one from the possessions beneath her cot, and I held it up for the soldier. “Is this the face?”
He hesitated. “I think so.”
“Blue eyes?”
“ ⦠I can't be sure.”
I returned the mirror to Foila. “I will tell you again what I told you on the road, and I wish we had a more private place in which to do it. Some time ago a talisman came into my hands. It came innocently, but it does not belong to me, and it is very valuableâsometimes, not always, but sometimesâit
has the power to heal the sick, and even to revive the dead. Two days ago, as I was traveling north, I came across the body of a dead soldier. It was in a forest, away from the road. He had been dead less than a day; I would say it's likely he had died sometime during the preceding night. I was very hungry then, and I cut his pack straps and ate most of the food he had been carrying with him. Then I felt guilty about doing that and got out the talisman and tried to restore him to life. It has failed often before, and this time I thought for a while it was going to fail again. It didn't, although he returned to life slowly and for a long time did not seem to know where he was or what was happening to him.”
“And I was that soldier?”
I nodded, looking into his honest blue eyes.
“May I see the talisman?”
I took it out and held it in the palm of my hand. He took it from me, examined both sides carefully, and tested the point against the ball of his finger. “It doesn't look magical,” he said.
“I'm not sure
magical
is the right term for it. I've met magicians, and nothing they did reminded me of this or the way it acts. Sometimes it glows with tightâit's very faint now, and I doubt if you can see it.”
“I can't. There doesn't seem to be any writing on it.”
“You mean spells or prayers. No, I've never noticed any, and I've carried it a long way. I don't really know anything about it except that it acts at times; but I think it is probably the kind of thing spells and prayers are made with, and not the kind that is made with them.”
“You said it didn't belong to you.”
I nodded again. “It belongs to the priestesses here, the Pelerines.”
“You just came here. Two nights ago, when I did.”
“I came looking for them, to give it back. It was taken from themânot by meâsome time ago, in Nessus.”
“And you're going to return it?” He looked at me as though he somehow doubted it.
“Yes, eventually.”
He stood up, smoothing his robe with his hands.
I said, “You don't believe me, do you? Not about any of it.”
“When I came here, you introduced me to the others nearby, the ones you'd talked with while you lay here on your cot.” He spoke slowly, seeming to ponder every word. “Of course I've met some people too, where they put me. There's one who isn't really wounded very badly. He's just a boy, a youngster off some small holding a long way from here, and he mostly sits on his cot and looks at the floor.”
“Homesick?” I asked.
The soldier shook his head. “He had an energy weapon. A korsekeâthat's what somebody told me. Are you familiar with them?”
“Not very.”
“They project a beam straight forward, and at the same time two quartering beams, forward left and forward right. Their range isn't great, but
they say they're very good for dealing with mass attacks, and I suppose they are.”
He looked about for a moment to see if anyone was listening, but it is a point of honor in the lazaret to disregard completely any conversation not intended for oneself. If it were not so, the patients would soon be at each other's throats.
“His hundred was the target of one of those attacks. Most of the others broke and ran. He didn't, and they didn't get him. Another man told me there were three walls of bodies in front of him. He had dropped them until the Ascians were climbing up to the top and jumping down at him. Then he had backed away and piled them up again.”
I said, “I suppose he got a medal and a promotion.” I could not be sure if it was my fever returning or merely the heat of the day, but I felt sticky and somehow suffocated.
“No, they sent him here. I told you he was only a boy from the country. He had killed more people that day than he had ever seen up to the time a few months before when he went into the army. He still hasn't gotten over it, and maybe he never will.”
“Yes?”
“It seems to me you might be like that.”
“I don't understand you,” I said.
“You talk as if you've just come here from the south, and I suppose that if you've left your legion that's the safest way to talk. Just the same, anybody can see it isn't trueâpeople don't get cut up the way you are except where the fighting is. You were hit by rock splinters. That's what happened to you, and the Pelerine who spoke to us the first night we were here saw that right away. So I think you've been north longer than you'll admit, and maybe longer than you think yourself. If you've killed a lot of people, it might be nice for you to believe you have a way to bring them back.”
I tried to grin at him. “And where does that leave you?”
“Where I am now. I'm not trying to say I owe you nothing. I had fever, and you found me. Maybe I was delirious. I think it's more likely I was unconscious, and that let you think I was dead. If you hadn't brought me here, I probably would have died.”
He started to stand up; I stopped him with a hand on his arm. “There are some things I should tell you before you go,” I said. “About yourself.”
“You said you didn't know who I was.”
I shook my head. “I didn't say that, not really. I said I found you in a wood two days ago. In the sense you mean, I
don't
know who you areâbut in another sense I think I may. I think you're two people, and that I know one of them.”
“Nobody is two people.”
“I am. I'm two people already. Perhaps more people are two than we know. The first thing I want to tell you is much simpler, though. Now listen.” I gave him detailed directions for finding the wood again, and when I was certain he understood them, I said, “Your pack is probably still there,
with the straps cut, so if you find the place you won't mistake it. There was a letter in your pack. I pulled it out and read a part of it. It didn't carry the name of the person you were writing to, but if you had finished it and were just waiting for a chance to send it off, it should have at least a part of your name at the end. I put it on the ground and it blew a little and caught against a tree. It may still be possible for you to find it.”
His face had tightened. “You shouldn't have read it, and you shouldn't have thrown it away.”
“I thought you were dead, remember? Anyway, a good deal was going on at the time, mostly inside my head. Perhaps I was getting feverishâI don't know. Now here's the other part. You won't believe me, but it may be important that you listen. Will you hear me out?”
He nodded.
“Good. Have you heard of the mirrors of Father Inire? Do you know how they work?”
“I've heard of Father Inire's Mirror, but I couldn't tell you where I heard about it. You're supposed to be able to step into it, like you'd step into a doorway, and step out on a star. I don't think it's real.”
“The mirrors are real, I've seen them. Up until now I always thought of them in much the same way you didâas if they were a ship, but much faster. Now I'm not nearly so sure. Anyway, a certain friend of mine stepped between those mirrors and vanished. I was watching him. It was no trick and no superstition; he went wherever the mirrors take you. He went because he loved a certain woman, and he wasn't a whole man. Do you understand?”
“He'd had an accident?”
“An accident had had him, but never mind that. He told me he would come back. He said, âI will come back for her when I have been repaired, when I am sane and whole.' I didn't quite know what to think when he said that, but now I believe he has come. It was I who revived you, and I had been wishing for his returnâperhaps that had something to do with it.”
There was a pause. The soldier looked down at the trampled soil on which the cots had been set, then up again at me. “Possibly whenever a man loses his friend and gets another, he feels the old friend is with him again.”
“Jonasâthat was his nameâhad a habit of speech. Whenever he had to say something unpleasant, he softened it, made a joke of it, by attributing what he said to some comic situation. The first night we were here, when I asked you your name, you said, âI lost it somewhere along the way. That's what the jaguar said, who had promised to guide the goat.' Do you recall that?”