The witching hour - By Anne Rice Page 0,534

doctor with the vision of a poet. And you turned your back on your visions, Rowan. In the laboratory of Lemle, you could have created new beings from the parts of existent beings. You reached for brutal tools because you feared what you could do. You hid behind the surgical microscope and substituted for your power the crude micro tools of steel with which you severed tissues, rather man creating them. Even now you act from fear. You will build hospitals where people are to be cured, when you could create new beings, Rowan.”

She sat still and quiet. No one had ever spoken to her about her innermost thoughts with greater accuracy. She felt the heat and size of her own ambition. She felt the amoral child in her who had dreamed of brain grafts and synthetic beings, before the adult put out the light.

“Haven’t you a heart to understand why, Lasher?”

“I see far, Rowan. I see great suffering in the world. I see the way of accident and blundering, and what it has created. I am not blinded by illusions. I hear the cries everywhere of pain. And I know my own loneliness. I know my own desire.”

“But what will you give up when you become flesh and blood? What’s the price for you?”

“I do not shrink from the price. A fleshly pain could be no worse than what I have suffered these three centuries. Would you be what I am, Rowan? Drifting, timeless and alone, listening to the carnal voices of the world, apart, and thirsting for love and understanding?”

She couldn’t answer.

“I have waited for all eternity to be incarnate. I have waited beyond the scope of memory. I have waited until the fragile spirit of man has finally attained the knowledge so that the barrier can come down. And I shall be made flesh, and it shall be perfect.”

Silence.

“I see why Aaron is afraid of you,” she said.

“Aaron is small. The Talamasca is small. They are nothing!” The voice grew thin with anger. The air in the room was warm and moving like the water in a pot moves before it boils. The chandeliers moved yet they made no sound, as if the sound were carried away by the currents in the air.

“The Talamasca has knowledge,” he said, “they have power to open doorways, but they refuse to do so for us. They are the enemy of us. They would keep the world’s destiny in the hands of the suffering and the blind. And they lie. All of them lie. They have maintained the history of the Mayfair Witches because it is the history of Lasher, and they fight Lasher. That is their avowed purpose. And they trick you with their attention to the witches. It is Lasher whose name should be emblazoned on the covers of their precious leather-bound files. The file is in a code. It is the history of the growing power of Lasher. Can you not see through the code?”

“Don’t harm Aaron.”

“You love unwisely, Rowan.”

“You don’t like my goodness, do you? You like the evil.”

“What is evil, Rowan? Is your curiosity evil? That you would study me as you have studied the brains of human beings? That you would learn from my cells all that you could to advance the great cause of medicine? I am not the enemy of the world, Rowan. I merely wish to enter into it!”

“You’re angry now.”

“I am in pain. I love you, Rowan.”

“To want is not to love, Lasher. To use is not to love.”

“No, don’t speak these words to me. You hurt me. You wound me.”

“If you kill Aaron, I will never be your doorway.”

“Such a small thing to affect so much.”

“Lasher, kill him and I will not be the doorway.”

“Rowan, I am at your command. I would have killed him already were I not.”

“Same with Michael.”

“Very well, Rowan.”

“Why did you tell Michael that he couldn’t stop me?”

“Because I hoped that he could not and I wanted to frighten him. He is under the spell of Aaron.”

“Lasher, how am I to help you come through?”

“I will know when you know, Rowan. And you know. Aaron knows.”

“Lasher, we don’t know what life is. Not with all our science and all our definitions do we know what life is, or how it began. The moment when it sprang into existence from inert materials is a complete mystery.”

“I am already alive, Rowan.”

“And how can I make you flesh? You’ve gone into the bodies of the living and the dead.