Леонид Андреев
Satan's Diary

“If that’s what you call me – yes. Something on that order.”

“And a liar!”

“Perhaps. In general, dear Wondergood, it is very necessary for you to change your outlook on life and man. You are too much of an idealist.”

“And you” – I rose from my chair – “for you it is necessary to change your fellow conversationalist. Permit me to bid you good-by and to send a police commissary in my place.”

Magnus laughed.

“Nonsense, Wondergood! Everything has been done within the law. You, yourself, have handed over everything to me. This will surprise no one…with your love for humanity. Of course, you can proclaim yourself insane. You understand? – and then, perhaps, I may get to the penitentiary. But you – you will land in an insane asylum. You would hardly like that, dear friend. Police! Well, go on talking. It will relieve the first effects of the blow.”

I think it was really difficult for me to conceal my excitement. I hurled my cigar angrily into the fireplace, while my eye carefully measured both the window and Magnus…no, this carcass was too big to play ball with.

At that moment the loss of my wealth had not yet fully impressed itself upon my mind and it was that which maddened me as much as the brazen tone of Magnus and the patronizing manner of the old scoundrel. In addition, I dimly sensed something portentous of evil and sorrow, like a threat: as if some real danger were lurking not in front of me but behind my back.

“What is this all about?” I shouted, stamping my foot.

“What is this all about?” replied Magnus, like an echo. “Yes, I really cannot understand why you are so excited, Wondergood. You have so frequently offered me this money and even forced it upon me and now, when the money is in my hands, you want to call the police! Of course,” Magnus smiled – “there is a slight distinction here: in placing your money so magnanimously at my disposal, you still remained its master and the master of the situation, while now…you understand, old friend: now I can simply drive you out of this house!”

I looked at Magnus significantly. He replied with no less a significant shrug of the shoulders and cried angrily:

“Stop your nonsense. I am stronger than you are. Do not try to be more of a fool than is absolutely necessitated by the situation.”

“You are an unusually brazen scoundrel, Signor Magnus!”

“Again! How these sentimental souls do seek consolation in words! Take a cigar and listen to me. I have long needed money, a great deal of money. In my past, which I need not disclose to you, I have suffered certain…failures. They irritated me considerably. Fools and sentimental souls, you understand? My energy was imprisoned under lock and key, like a bird in a cage. For three years I sat in this cursed cage, awaiting my chance…”

“And all that – in the beautiful Campagna?”

“Yes, in the beautiful Campagna…and I had already begun to lose hope, when you appeared. I find it difficult to express myself at this point…”

“Be as direct as you can. Have no compunctions.”

“You seemed very strange with all this love of yours for men and your play, as you finally termed it, and, my friend, for a long time I had grave doubts as to what you really were: an extraordinary fool or just a scoundrel, like myself. You see, such extraordinary asses appear so seldom that even I had my doubts. You are not angry?”

“Oh, not at all.”

“You forced money upon me and I thought: a trap! However you made your moves quickly and certain precautions on my part…”

“Pardon me for interrupting. So, those books of yours, your solitary contemplation of life, that little white house and everything was all a lie? And murder – do you remember all that drivel about hands steeped in blood?”

“Yes, I did kill. That is true. And I have pondered much upon life, while awaiting you, but the rest, of course, was falsehood. Very base falsehood, but you were so credulous…”

“And…Maria?”

I confess that I had hardly uttered this name when I felt something clutching at my throat. Magnus looked at me sharply and said gloomily:

“We will discuss Maria, too. But how excited you are! Even your nails have turned blue. Perhaps you’ll have some wine? Well, never mind. Have patience. I shall continue. When you began your affair with Maria…of course with my slight assistance…I finally concluded that you were…”

“An extraordinary ass?”

Magnus raised his hand in a consoling gesture:

“Oh, no! You seemed to me to be that at the beginning. I will tell you quite truthfully, as I do everything I am telling you now: you are not a fool at all, Wondergood. I have grown to know you more intimately. It doesn’t matter that you have so naïvely surrendered your billions to me…many wise men have been fooled before by clever…scoundrels! Your misfortune is quite another thing.”

I had the strength to smile:

“My love for human beings?”

“No, my friend: your contempt for human beings! Your contempt and at the same time your naïve faith in them arising from it. You regard human beings so far below you, you are so convinced of their fatal powerlessness that you do not fear them at all and are quite ready to pat the rattlesnake’s head: such a nice little rattlesnake! One should fear people, comrade! I know your game, but at times you were quite sincere in your prattle about man, you even pitied him, but from an elevation or from a sidetrack – I know not which. Oh, if you could only hate people I would take you along with me with pleasure. But you are an egotist, a terrible egotist, Wondergood, and I am even beginning to shed my regrets for having robbed you, when I think of that! Whence comes this base contempt of yours?”

“I am still only learning to be a man.”

“Well, go on learning. But why do you call your professor a scoundrel: For I am your professor, Wondergood!”

“To the devil with this prattle. So…you do not intend to take me along with you?”

“No, my friend, I do not.”

“So. Only my billions. Very well, but what about your plan: to blow up the earth or something of that kind? Or did you lie on this point, too? I cannot believe that you simply intend to open…a money changer’s bureau or become some ragged king!”

Magnus looked at me gloomily. There was even a gleam of sympathy in his eyes as he replied slowly:

“No, on that point I did not lie. But you won’t do for me. You would always be hanging on to my coat tails. Just now you shouted: liar, scoundrel, thief… It’s strange, but you are yet only learning to be a man and you have already imbibed so much pettiness. When I shall raise my hand to strike some one, your contempt will begin to whine: don’t strike, leave him alone, have pity. Oh, if you could only hate! No, you are a terrible egotist, old man.”

I shouted:

“The devil take you with your harping on this egotism! I am not in the least more stupid than you, you beast, and I cannot understand what you find so saintly in hatred!”

Magnus frowned:

“First of all: don’t shout or I’ll throw you out. Do you hear? Yes, perhaps you are no more stupid than I am, but man’s business is not your business. Do you realize that, you beast? In blowing up things, I only intend to do business and you want to be the ruler of another’s plant. Let them steal and break down the machinery and you – you will be concerned only about your salary and the respect due you? And I – I won’t stand that! All this,” – he swept the room with a broad gesture – “is my plant, mine, do you hear, and it is I who will be robbed. I will be robbed and injured. And I hate those who rob me. What would you have done, in the long run, with your billions, if I had not taken them from you? Built conservatories and raised heirs – for the perpetuation of your kind? Private yachts and diamonds for your wife? And I…give me all the gold on earth and I will throw it all into the flames of my hatred. And all because I have been insulted! When you see a hunchback you throw him a lire. So that he may continue to bear his hump, yes? And I want to destroy him, to kill him, to burn him like a crooked log. To whom do you appeal when you are fooled or when a dog bites your finger? To your wife, the police, public opinion? But suppose the wife, with the aid of your butler, plants horns on your head or public opinion fails to understand you and instead of pitying you prefers to give you a thrashing – then do you make your appeal to God? But I, I go to no one. I plead before no one, but neither do I forgive. You understand? I do not forgive! Only egotists forgive! I consider myself personally insulted!”

I heard him in silence. Perhaps it was because I was so close to the fireplace, gazing into the fire and listening to Magnus’s words, each new word intermingled with a fresh blaze of a burning log; no sooner would the glowing red mass fall apart than the words, too, would break up into particles, like hot coals. My head was not at all clear and, under the influence of these burning, flaming, flying words I fell into a strange, dark drowsiness. But this was what my memory retained:

“Oh, if you could only hate! If you were not so cowardly and weak of soul! I would take you with me and would let you behold a fire which would forever dry your miserable tears and burn your sentimental dreams to ashes! Do you hear the song of the fools of the world? They are merely loading the cannons. The wise man need only apply the fire to the fuse, you understand? Could you behold calmly the sight of a blissful sheep and hungry snake lying together, separated only by a thin partition? I could not! I would drill just a little opening, a little opening…the rest they would do themselves. Do you know that from the union of truth and falsehood comes an explosion? I want to unite. I shall do nothing myself: I shall only complete what they have begun. Do you hear how merrily they sing? I will make them dance, too! Come with me, comrade! You sought some sort of a play – let me give you an extraordinary spectacle! We shall bring the whole earth into action and millions of marionettes will begin to caper obediently at our command: you know not yet how talented and obliging they are. It will be a splendid play and will give you much pleasure and amusement…”

A large log fell apart and split into many sparks and hot cinders. The flame subsided, growing morose and red. A silent heat emanated from the dimmed, smoke-smeared hearth. It burned my face and suddenly there arose before me my puppets’ show. The heat and fire had conjured up a mirage. I seemed to hear the crash of drums and the gay ring of cymbals, while the merry clown turned on his head at the sight of the broken skulls of the dolls. The broken heads continued to pile up. Then I saw the scrap heap, with two motionless little legs protruding from the heap of rubbish. They wore rose slippers. And the drums continued beating: tump-tump-tump. And I said pensively:

“I think it will hurt them.”

And behind my back rang out the contemptuous and indifferent reply:

“Quite possibly.”

“Tump-tump-tump…”

“It is all the same to you, Wondergood, but I cannot! Can’t you see: I cannot permit every miserable biped to call himself a man. There are too many of them, already. They multiply like rabbits, under the stimulus of physicians and laws. Death, deceived, cannot handle them all. It is confused and seems to have lost its dignity and moral authority. It is wasting its time in dancing halls. I hate them. It has become repulsive to me to walk upon this earth, fallen into the power of a strange, strange species. We must suspend the law, at least temporarily, and let death have its fling. However, they themselves will see to this. No, not I, but they, will do it. Think not that I am particularly cruel, no – I am only logical. I am only the conclusion, the symbol of equality, the sum total, the line beneath the column of figures. You may call it Ergo, Magnus, Ergo! They say: ‘two and two’ and I reply: ‘four.’ Exactly four. Imagine that the world has suddenly grown cold and immovable for a moment and you behold some such picture: here is a free and careless head and above it – a suspended axe. Here is a mass of powder and here a spark about to fall upon it. But it has stopped and does not fall. Here is a heavy structure, set upon a single, undermined foundation. But everything has grown rigid and the foundation holds. Here is a breast and here a hand aiming a bullet at it. Have I prepared all this? I merely touch the lever and press it down. The axe falls upon the laughing head and crushes it. The spark falls into the powder – all is off! The building crashes to the ground. The bullet pierces the ready breast. And I – I have merely touched the lever, I, Magnus Ergo! Think: would I be able to kill had I at my disposal only violins or other musical instruments?”

I laughed:

“Only violins!”

Magnus replied with laughter: his voice was hoarse and heavy:

“But they have other instruments, too! And I will use these instruments. See how simple and interesting all this is?”

“And what further, Magnus Ergo?”

“How do I know what’s to follow? I see only this page and solve only this problem. I know not what the next page contains.”

“Perhaps it contains the same thing?”

“Perhaps it does. And perhaps this is the final page…well, what of that: the sum total remains as is necessary.”

“You spoke on one occasion about miracles?”

“Yes, that is my lever. You remember what I told you about my explosive? I promise rabbits to make lions of them… You see, a rabbit cannot stand brains. Give a rabbit brains and he will hang himself. Melancholy will drive him to suicide. Brains implies logic and what can logic promise to a rabbit? Nothing but a sorry fate on a restaurant menu. What one must promise a rabbit is either immortality for a cheap price, as does Cardinal X. or – heaven on earth. You will see what energy, what daring, etc., my rabbit will develop when I paint before him on the wall heavenly powers and gardens of Eden!”

“On the wall?”

“Yes, – on a stone wall. He will storm it with all the power of his species! And who knows…who knows…perhaps this mass may really break through this stone wall?”

Magnus lapsed into thought. I drew away from the now extinguished fire and looked upon the explosive head of my repulsive friend… Something naïve, like two little wrinkles, almost like those of a child, lay upon his stony brow. I burst into laughter and shouted:

“Thomas Magnus! Thomas Ergo! Do you believe?”

Without raising his head, as if he had not heard my laughter, he lifted his eyes and replied pensively:

“We must try.”

But I continued to laugh: deep, wild – apparently human – laughing malice began to rise within me:

“Thomas Magnus! Magnus Rabbit! Do you believe?”

He thumped the table with his fist and roared in a wild transport:

“Be quiet! I tell you: we must try. How do I know? I have never yet been on Mars nor seen this earth inside-out. Be silent, accursed egotist! You know nothing of our affairs. Ah, if only you could hate!..”

“I hate already.”

Magnus suddenly laughed and grew strangely calm. He sat down and scrutinizing me from all possible angles, as if he did not believe me, he burst out:

“You? Hate? Whom?”

“You.”

He looked me over as carefully again and shook his head in doubt:

“Is that true, Wondergood?”

“If they are rabbits, you are the most repulsive of them all, because you are a mixture of rabbit and…Satan. You are a coward! The fact that you are a crook, a thief, a liar, a murderer is not important. But you are a coward! That is important. I expected something more of you. I hoped your mind would lift you above the greatest crime, but you lift crime itself into some base philanthropy. You are as much of a lackey as the others. The only difference between you and them is that you have a perverted idea of service!”

Magnus sighed.

“No, that’s not it. You understand nothing, Wondergood.”

“And what you lack is daring, my friend. If you are Magnus Ergo…what audacity: Magnus Ergo! – then why don’t you go the limit? Then, I, too, would follow you…perhaps!”

“Will you really come?”

“And why should I not come? Let me be Contempt, and you – Hatred. We can go together. Do not fear lest I hang on to your coat tails. You have revealed much to me, my dear putridity, and I shall not seize your hand even though you raise it against yourself.”

“Will you betray me?”

“And you will kill me. Is that not enough?”

But Magnus shook his head doubtfully and said:

“You will betray me. I am a living human being, while you smell like a corpse. I do not want to have contempt for myself. If I do, I perish. Don’t you dare to look at me! Look upon the others!”

I laughed.

“Very well. I shall not look at you. I will look at the rest. I will make it easier for you with my contempt.”

Magnus fell into prolonged thought. Then he looked again at me piercingly and quietly asked:

“And Maria?..”

Oh, cursed wretch! Again he hurled my heart upon the floor! I looked at him wildly, like one aroused at night by fire. And three big waves swept my breast. With the first wave rose the silent violins…ah, how they wailed, just as if the musician played not upon strings but upon my veins! Then in a huge wave with foamy surf there rolled by all the images, thoughts and emotions of my recent, beloved human state: think of it: everything was there! Even the lizzard that hissed at my feet that evening beneath the moonlight. I recalled even the little lizzard! And with the third wave there was rolled out quietly upon the shore the holy name: Maria. And just as quietly it receded, leaving behind a delicate lace of foam, and from beyond the sea burst forth the rays of the sun, and for a moment, for one, little moment, I again became a white schooner, with sails lowered. Where were the stars while awaiting the word of the Lord of the universe to break forth in all their brilliance? Madonna!

Magnus recalled me quietly.

“Where are you going? She is not there. What do you want?”

“Pardon me, dear Magnus, but I would like to see the Signorina Maria. Only for a moment. I don’t feel quite well. There is something revolving in my eyes and head. Are you smiling, dear Magnus, or does it only seem so to me? I have been gazing into the fire too long and I can hardly discern the objects before me. Did you say: Maria? Yes, I would like to see her. Then we shall continue our interesting conversation. You will remind me just where we stopped, but meanwhile I would be extremely obliged to you, if we were…to take a little drive into the Campagna. It is so sweet there. And Signorina Maria…”

“Sit down. You will see her presently.”

But I continued to weave my nonsense – what in the devil had happened to my head! I prattled on for a considerable period and now the whole thing seems so ridiculous: Once or twice I pressed the heavy, motionless hand of Thomas Magnus: apparently he must have looked like my father at that moment. Finally, I subsided, partially regained my senses but, in obedience to Magnus’ command, remained in my chair and prepared to listen.

“Can you listen now? You are quite excited, old man. Remember: the senses, the Senses!”

“Yes, now I can go on. I…remember everything. Continue, old friend. I am all attention.”

Yes, I recollected everything but it was quite immaterial to me just what Magnus said or what he might say: I was awaiting Maria. That is how strong my love was! Turning aside for some reason and beating time with his fingers on the table, Magnus said slowly and rather reluctantly:

“Listen, Wondergood. In reality, it would be much more convenient for me to throw you out into the street, you and your idiotic Toppi. You wanted to experience all human life and I would have viewed with pleasure any efforts on your part to earn your own bread. You are apparently no longer used to this? It would also have been very interesting to know what would become of your grandiose contempt when… But I am not angry. Strange to say, I even nurse a feeling of thankfulness for your…billions. And I am rather hopeful. Yes, I still have a little hope that some day you may really grow to be a man. And while this may prove an impediment to me, I am ready to take you with me, but only – after a certain test. Are you still anxious to have…Maria?”

“Yes.”

“Very well.”

Magnus rose with effort and moved toward the door. But he halted for a moment and turned toward me and – surprising as it was on the part of this scoundrel – he kissed my brow.

“Sit down, old man. I will call her immediately. The servants are all out to-day.”

He uttered the last sentence as he knocked feebly at the door. The head of one of his aides appeared for a moment and immediately withdrew. With apparently the same effort Magnus returned to his place and said with a sigh:

“She will be here at once.”

We were silent. I fixed my eyes upon the tall door and it opened wide. Maria entered. With a quick step I moved to greet her and bowed low. Magnus shouted:

“Don’t kiss that hand!”

May 27.

I could not continue these notes yesterday. Do not laugh! This mere combination of words: do not kiss that hand! – seemed to me the most terrible utterance the human tongue was capable of. It acted upon me like a magic curse. When I recall those words now they interrupt everything I do and befog my whole being, transporting me into a new state. If I happen to be speaking I grow silent, as if suddenly stricken dumb. If I happen to be walking, I halt. If standing, I run. If I happen to be asleep, no matter how deep my slumber, I awake and cannot fall asleep again. Very simple, extremely simple words: Do not kiss that hand!

And now listen to what happened further:

And so: I bowed over Maria’s hand. But so strange and sudden was Magnus’ cry, so great was the command in his hoarse voice, that it was impossible to disobey. It was as if he had stopped a blind man on the edge of a precipice! But I failed to grasp his meaning and raised my head in perplexity, still holding Maria’s hand in mine, and looked at Magnus. He was breathing heavily, as if he had actually witnessed my fall into the abyss – and in reply to my questioning look, he said in a stifled tone:

“Let her hand alone. Maria get away from him.”

Maria released her hand and stepped aside, at a distance from me. Still perplexed I watched her, standing alone! I tried to grasp the situation. For a brief moment it seemed even extremely ludicrous and reminded me of a scene in a comedy, in which the angry father comes unexpectedly upon the sweethearts, but my silly laughter died away immediately and in obedient expectation I raised my eyes to Magnus.

Magnus hesitated. Rising with an effort, he twice paced the length of the room and halting before me, with his hands clasped behind him, said:

“With all your eccentricities, you’re a decent man, Wondergood. I have robbed you (that was how he put it) but I can no longer permit you to kiss the hand of this woman. Listen! Listen! I have already told you you must change your outlook upon men. I know it is very difficult and I sympathize with you, but it is essential that you do it, old friend. Listen! Listen! I misled you: Maria is not my daughter…I have no children. Neither is she a…Madonna. She is my mistress and she was that as recently as last night…”

Now I understand that Magnus was merciful in his own way and was intentionally submerging me slowly into darkness. But at that time I did not realize this and slowly stifling, my breath gradually dying, I lost consciousness. And when with Magnus’ last words the light fled from me and impenetrable night enveloped my being, I whipped out my revolver and fired at Magnus several times in succession. I do not know how many shots I fired. I remember only a series of laughing, flickering flames and the movements of my hand, pushing the weapon forward. I cannot remember at all how and when his aides rushed in and disarmed me. When I regained my senses this was the picture I saw: the aides were gone. I was sitting deep in my chair before the dark fireplace, my hair was wet, while above my left eyebrow there was a bandage soaked in blood. My collar was gone and my shirt was torn, my left sleeve was almost entirely torn off, so that I had to keep jerking it up constantly. Maria stood on the same spot, in the same pose, as if she had not moved at all during the struggle. I was surprised to see Toppi, who sat in a corner and gazed at me strangely. At the table, with his back to me, stood Magnus. He was pouring out some wine for himself.

When I heaved a particularly deep sigh, Magnus turned quickly and said in a strangely familiar tone:

“Do you want some wine, Wondergood? You may have a glass now. Here, drink… You see you failed to hit me. I do not know whether to be glad or not, but I am alive. To your health, old man!”

I touched my brow with my finger and mumbled:

“Blood…”

“A mere trifle, just a little scratch. It won’t matter. Don’t touch it.”

“It smells.”

“With powder? Yes, that’ll soon pass, too. Toppi is here. Do you see him? He asked permission to stay here. You won’t object if your secretary remains while we continue our conversation? He is extremely devoted to you.”

I looked at Toppi and smiled. Toppi made a grimace and sighed gently:

“Mr. Wondergood! It is I, your Toppi.”

And he burst into tears. This old devil, still emitting the odor of fur, this old clown in black, this sexton with hanging nose, this seducer of little girls – burst into tears! But still worse was it when, blinking my eyes, I, too, began to weep, I, “the wise, immortal, almighty!” Thus we both wept, two deceived devils who happened to drop in upon this earth, and human beings – I am happy to give them their due! – looked on with deep sympathy for our tears. Weeping and laughing at the same time, I asked:

“It’s difficult to be a man, Toppi?”

And Toppi, sobbing, replied obediently:

“Very difficult, Mr. Wondergood.”

But here I happened to look at Maria and my sentimental tears immediately dried. In general, that evening is memorable for the sudden and ludicrous transformations of my moods. You probably know them, old man? Now I wept and beat the lyre, like a weeping post, now I became permeated with a stony calm and a sense of unconquerable power, or I began to chatter nonsense, like a parrot scared to death by a dog, and kept up my chatter, louder, sillier and more and more unbearable, until a new mood bore me off into a deep and inexpressible sadness. Magnus caught my look at Maria and smiled involuntarily. I adjusted the collar of my torn shirt and said dryly :

“I do not know whether to be glad or sorry that I failed to kill you, old friend. I am quite calm now, however, and would like you to tell me everything about…that woman. But as you are a liar, let me question her first. Signorina Maria, you were my bride? And in a few days I hoped to call you my wife. But tell me the truth: are you really…this man’s mistress?”

“Yes, signor.”

“And…how long?”

“Five years, signor.”

“And how old are you now.”

“Nineteen, signor.”

“That means you were fourteen… Now you may continue, Magnus.”

“Oh, my God!”

(It was Toppi who exclaimed.)

“Sit down, Maria. – As you see, Wondergood,” – began Magnus in a dry and calm tone, as if he were demonstrating not himself but some sort of a chemical compound – “this mistress of mine is quite an extraordinary phenomenon. With all her unusual resemblance to the Madonna, capable of deceiving men better versed than you or I in religion, with all her really unearthly beauty, chastity and charm – she is a licentious and quite shameless creature, ready to sell herself from head to foot…”

“Magnus!”

“Calm yourself. You see how she listens to me? Even your old Toppi is cringing and blushing while she – her gaze is clear and all her features are filled with placid harmony…did you notice how clear Maria’s gaze is? Do you hear me?”

“Yes, certainly.”

“Would you like wine or an orange? Take it. There it is on the table. Incidentally, observe her graceful walk: she seems to be always stepping lightly as if on flowers or clouds. What extraordinary beauty and litheness! As an old lover of hers, I may also add the following detail which you have not learned yet: she herself, her body, has the fragrance of some flowers. Now as to her spiritual qualities, as the psychologists put it. If I were to speak of them in ordinary language, I would say she was as stupid as a goose, – quite a hopeless fool. But she is cunning. And a liar. Very avaricious as regards money but she likes it only in gold. Everything she told you she learned from me, memorizing the more difficult lines…and I had quite a task in teaching her. But I feared all the time that, despite your love, you would be struck by her apparent lack of brains and that is why I kept her from you the last few days.”

Toppi sobbed:

“Oh, God! Madonna!”

“Does this astonish you, Mr. Toppi?” – Magnus asked, turning his head. “I dare say you are not alone. Do you remember, Wondergood, what I told you about Maria’s fatal resemblance, which drove one young man to suicide. I did not lie to you altogether: the youth actually did kill himself when he realized who Maria really was. He was pure of soul. He loved as you do and as you he could not bear – how do you put it? – the wreck of his ideal.”

Magnus laughed:

“Do you remember Giovanni, Maria?”

“Slightly.”

“Do you hear, Wondergood?” asked Magnus, laughing. “That is exactly the tone in which she would have spoken of me a week hence if you had killed me to-day. Have another orange, Maria… But if I were to speak of Maria in extraordinary language – she is not at all stupid. She simply doesn’t happen to have what is called a soul. I have frequently tried to look deep into her heart and thoughts and I have always ended in vertigo, as if I had been hurled to the edge of an abyss: there was nothing there. Emptiness. You have probably observed, Wondergood, or you, Mr. Toppi, that ice is not as cold as the brow of a dead man? And no matter what emptiness familiar to you you may imagine, my friends, it cannot be compared with that absolute vacuum which forms the kernel of my beautiful, light-giving star. Star of the Seas? – that was what you once called her, Wondergood, was it not?”