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Record Thirty-One

“Yes.⁠ ⁠…” A long, dark silence. The wires buzzed almost imperceptibly. She was thinking.

“I must see you today without fail. Yes, in my room, after sixteen, without fail!”

Dear⁠ ⁠… she is such a dear!⁠ ⁠… “Without fail!” I was smiling and I could not stop, I felt I should carry that smile with me into the street like a light above my head.

Outside the wind ran over me, whirling, whistling, whipping, but I felt even more cheerful. “All right, go on, go on moaning and groaning! The Walls cannot be torn down.” Flying leaden clouds broke over my head⁠ ⁠… well let them! They could not eclipse the sun! We chained it to the zenith like so many Joshuas, sons of Nuns!

At the corner a group of Joshuas, sons of Nuns, were standing with their foreheads pasted to the glass of the wall. Inside, on a dazzling white table already a Number lay. One could see two naked soles diverging from under the sheet in a yellow angle.⁠ ⁠… White medics bent over his head⁠—a white hand, a stretched-out hand holding a syringe filled with something.⁠ ⁠…

“And you, what are you waiting for?” I asked nobody in particular, or rather all of them.

“And you?” Someone’s round head turned to me.

“I? Oh, afterward! I must first.⁠ ⁠…” Somewhat confused, I left the place. I really had to see I-330 first. But why first? I could not explain to myself.⁠ ⁠…

The docks. The Integral , bluish like ice, was glistening and sparkling. The engine was caressingly grumbling, repeating some one word, as if it were my word, a familiar one. I bent down and stroked the long, cold

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