<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"Angsana New"; panose-1:2 2 6 3 5 4 5 2 3 4;} @font-face {font-family:"Cambria Math"; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;} @font-face {font-family:"Droid Sans"; panose-1:2 11 6 6 3 8 4 2 2 4;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman","serif";} p {mso-style-link:"Normal \(Web\) Char"; margin-right:0cm; margin-left:0cm; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman","serif";} span.NormalWebChar {mso-style-name:"Normal \(Web\) Char"; mso-style-link:"Normal \(Web\)"; font-family:"Times New Roman","serif";} .MsoPapDefault {margin-bottom:10.0pt; line-height:115%;} @page WordSection1 {size:595.3pt 841.9pt; margin:72.0pt 72.0pt 72.0pt 72.0pt;} div.WordSection1 {page:WordSection1;} --> Unknown TO THE DARK TOWER CAME � � Edgar: Child Rowland to the dark tower came, His word was still,�"Fie, foh, and fum, I smell the blood of a British man. � � Gene Wolfe � � �śHe’s senile,” Gloucester said. � Kent, who would die that day, shook his head and shrugged. He was standing at the room’s nearest window looking out, his broad shoulders wrapped in an old goatskin cloak. � �śSenile,” Gloucester repeated. Hoping to lighten Kent’s mood he added, �śI like to think that the first syllable derives from the Anglo-Saxon sendan, meaning �Śto transmit.’ The second from the Latin Nilus, the name of a mythical, northward-flowing river in Africa. This river was supposed to be lined with antique structures; so that transmission to the Nilotic region indicated that a thing was of ancient age.” � Kent said nothing. � �śCan you see anything through that ivy? What are you looking at out there?” � �śFog,” Kent said. � Gloucester walked over to the window. The bronze tip of the scabbard hanging from his belt, weighted by the broad blade of the sword within, scraped the stone flags. He peered out. The window was no wider than the length of a man’s forearm, cut in a gray stone wall several times as thick. �śFog my bung, sir,” he said. �śThose are clouds. But never mind, we’ll get down, clouds or no.” � �śThey might be clouds,” Kent answered mildly. �śYou never can tell.” � �śThey blasted well are clouds. Throw your dagger out of there, and it would spit an eagle before it struck the ground. There’s no telling how high up we are.” � �śI prefer to believe that it is fog,” Kent said. He turned to face Gloucester and seated himself on the clammy windowsill. �śI could leave this place at any time, simply by climbing out this window and jumping to the ground. Conversely, if I leave the window unguarded, it is possible that a bear or jaguar or other wild thing might enter.” � �śPoor creature,” Gloucester muttered. And then: �śSo you say it’s fog. All right, sir, climb out. So soon as your feet are on good, solid ground, call to me, and I’ll come too.” � �śI prefer not to,” Kent said. His sad, handsome face creased, though only for a second, in a smile. �śI believe in intellectual democracy; I know that I am right, but I concede the possibility that you’re right too.” � Gloucester cleared his throat. �śLet’s stop amusing ourselves with fancies and look at this logically.” He thrust his hands behind him, under his own tattered cloak, and began to pace up and down. �śThe king’s senile. I won’t argue definitions with you. You know what I mean, and I know you agree with me, whatever you may say. Now, let’s list the options available to us.” � �śWe’ve done this before,” Kent said. � �śGranted. But let’s do it again. I pride myself, sir, on being a sound sullen scholar; and when there is nothing more to be done, we triple �ŚS’ men recast the data�"integrate, integrate, integrate, and three pump handles.” � He took a deep breath. �śNow then, what is the desired result? What is it we wish? To be away�"isn’t that so? To courtier no more? That will do for a beginning. I’d like to leave aside those highflown plans of yours for the time being, and get to something practical.” � �śOne of my ancestors was supposed to be able to fly,” Kent said. He was craning his neck to look out the window again. �śMy mother showed me his picture once. The climate must have been warmer then, because his cloak was silk. Red silk. He flew through the air, and it streamed out behind him.” � �śA symbolic figure,” Gloucester told him. �śHe represented the strong man who, ridding himself of the superstitions of the past, devoted himself to improving his own powers and achieving mastery of others. Actually there have been a number of people who’ve tried it, but someone always shoots them.” � �śBullets ricocheted from his chest,” Kent said dreamily. � There was a beating of vast wings outside the window. � �śListen!” � �śDon’t go out there,” Gloucester warned, but Kent had already turned around, and was scrambling on hands and knees through the aperture in the wall until he could thrust his head and shoulders through the curtain of leaves into the faint, free air. � Above his head, and below it, the tower extended until sight failed in white mist. Though Kent knew it to be round, to either side the wall seemed flat�"so great was the radius of that mighty curve. (Some, indeed, said that it was infinite.) Vines overgrew the wall; Kent set his foot upon a stout stem, and took another in his right hand; then, drawing his dagger with his left, stepped out, so that he hung suspended in a dark green jungle of foliage over the yawning void. � The wing-wind tugged at his hair and fluttered the fur of the collar at his throat. A vampire flapped systematically up and down the wall, beating the ivy with pinions that were to Kent’s cloak as the cloak to an Ivy leaf. There were climbers in the ivy, pale figures Kent knew to be men and women. When the vampire’s wings dislodged them they fell; and the flying horror dove after them until it had them in its claws, then rose again. What it did with them then, Kent could not see�"it folded itself in the black membrane of its pinions as though shamed by its own malignancy, hanging in the air, head bowed, like a scud of sooty smoke. When the wings opened again, its victims were gone. � �śWhat was it?” Gloucester asked when Kent stood on the floor of the room once more. � Kent shrugged, and sheathed his dagger. � �śAre we high up?” � �śVery high. How can it be that there is air here?” � �śMy theory is that the tower draws air with it,” Gloucester said. �śIts mass is so great that it attracts its own atmosphere.” � Kent spat, and watched his spittle fall. It struck the flagstones in a pattern that suggested the skull-face of the vampire; but he ignored this, and said, �śIf what you say is true, then the direction we call �Śdown’ would necessarily be toward the center of the tower.” � Gloucester shook his shaggy head. �śNo, down would be the resultant of the tower’s attraction, the earth’s, and the moon’s. The construction of the floors may take that into account.” � �śThe moon’s? Do you think the tower rises high enough for that?” � �śThe moon’s gravitation has an effect even on the earth’s surface,” Gloucester told him, �śdrawing the tides. And yes, I know that the tower rises very high indeed. One of its commonest names is Spire Sans Summit.” � �śPoetical exaggeration,” Kent said. Although he did not like turning his back to the open window, he had wandered over to the stairs �"down which they had come, and down which, as he knew, they would eventually go again. � �śSuppose that it is not. Suppose that the king himself is the originator of that phrase, and that it reflects sober truth. How can it be true?” � �śIf work is still in progress,” Kent said slowly, �śthe tower could be called summitless, because the summit is not yet in place.” � �śA mere quibble. But suppose another foundation exists�"on another sphere. Imagine this tower stretched between the two, like a cobweb of stone.” � �śThen in going downward,” Kent said, �śwe may be progressing toward either end. Is that it? When we reach the lowest floor, we may step out onto the surface of the moon?” � The other man nodded. �śThere are footprints on the surface of the moon, you know. Even though the king would have us believe all this is happening long before that time.” � �śThen let us go, even if it is to the moon, or a farther place; when we reach it we will be able to see the earth, and we will know where we are.” He began to descend the stair. � �śYou’re going down again? I’ll come with you.” � * * * * � The room below might have filled all the tower, from wall to wall, with a domed ceiling higher in the center than the room was wide; so that it seemed like a world unto itself. The stone stair they trod might have been a bit of gossamer in that immensity. � �śIt’s an orrery, by God,” Gloucester said. �śAt least it’s not another throne room.” � �śIt may still be another throne room,” Kent cautioned him. � In the center the sun burned with thermonuclear fire. Far away, at the dim borders of the room to which the two descended, cold Pluto circled. The walls were wainscoted, the wooden panels painted with the symbols of the zodiac; a rearing bison, shot to the heart, snorted gore near where they stood when they attained the floor at last. � Here the stair ended. �śWe must find another way down,” Gloucester said. � Kent nodded and added, �śOr up, if we are going up.” � The rearing bison seemed to speak: �śLong have I ruled�"a hundred years and more.” (But it was the king’s voice.) � �śYes, monarch of the plain,” Kent answered, �ślong did you rule.” � �śHush,” Gloucester whispered, �śhe’ll hear you.” � �śLong have I ruled,” the king’s voice continued. �śI have starved my enemies; built my tower.” � �śYou are old,” Gloucester ventured. There was a stirring behind the painted panel, but Kent knew that the king was not there. � �śIn the dream of serving others, they have served me. Pisces the whale I penned in a tank of glass, sheltering her from the waters I poisoned. Does not that show the love I bore her? The poison was needed for the making: scientist and sorcerer am I.” � From a hole gnawed between the rearing bison’s feet, a rat’s head peeped forth. It was as large as a bucket; seeing it, Kent drew his sword. � �śIt is as I feared,” Gloucester said when his own blade was in his hand. �śThe lower parts of the tower are worse than the higher. Or the higher are worse than the lower, as may be.” � The rat was through the hole now, edging along the wall, while a second rat glared out with shining eyes. � �śTo the center of the room!” Kent urged. � But Gloucester cautioned: �śNo. Let us stay here, where we can guard one another’s backs, or put our own to the wall.” � The king’s voice had continued all the while, though neither had heard it. Now it said: �śSome insinuate that I grow old. Do they think that I, who know so much, cannot renew myself? And do they not know that if I should die, the tower will fall upon them? The rats are at the foundation even now.” � The rat sprang for Kent’s throat. He hewed it with his sword, and plunged his dagger into its chest as it flew toward him; but as he struck, the septic fangs of the second rat opened his left leg from thigh to ankle. Grizzled Gloucester, awkward but bull-strong, clove its spine with a single stroke; still, it was too late. � �śI will carry you wherever you wish to go,” he told Kent when a tourniquet had eased the bleeding. �śBack to earth or to the moon. Wherever you think there may be help.” � The bison had fallen silent, but the claws of the dying rats still scrabbled on the floor. �śI’ll carry you wherever you want to go,” Gloucester repeated, thinking Kent had not heard him. � But Kent only said: �śBe quiet. Someone is coming.” � Gloucester thought him delirious. �śI see no one.” � �śThat is because the sun is at his back,” Kent said. �śYou cannot see him against the glare.” � After a moment Gloucester muttered: �śA boy. I see him now.” � The boy wore a crown. He was about thirteen, but his eyes were the cold, mad eyes of the king. Maidens followed him; these had no eyes at all�"only little flames, like candles burning, in the empty sockets. �śWho are you men?” the boy asked. � Gloucester bowed as well as he could, still holding Kent, and said: �śWe are your courtiers, sire. Kent and Gloucester.” � The boy king shook his head. �śI do not remember those names.” � �śIn the beginning you called us Youth and Learning, sire; you promised us a great deal.” � �śI don’t remember that either,” the boy king said. �śBut if you will behave yourselves and amuse me, I will give you whatever it was I promised you before.” � Gloucester asked, �śWill you heal my friend?” but the king had already turned away. � Later Kent whispered, �śGloucester . . .” � �śAre you in much pain?” � �śGloucester, I have been thinking.” � Gloucester said, �śThat is always painful, I know,” but the younger man did not smile. � �śYou said that if this tower reaches to the moon, it has no top. . . .” � �śYes.” � �śBut isn’t it equally valid to say both ends are the top? From the moon, the foundation on earth is the summit. Isn’t that correct?” � �śIf you say so. But perhaps you should try to rest now.” The wound in Kent’s leg was bleeding freely again; Gloucester thrust the fingers of one hand through the tourniquet and twisted the cloth to tighten it. � He was still fussing with it when Kent murmured: �śCall back the king, Gloucester, and carry me to the window. With one single bound I will leap this tall building; and that is something a boy should see.” �