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pick you up from it. Toni goes with you, in any case."
"Then that's what we'll do," Bleys said. "Now, will you tell me the details of
how you're going to pick us up there?"
"No," Henry said. "A lot of our people are going to have to make plans as they
go along. Also, if you want to start now, we haven't time. I still need to get
a number of the Soldiers out of the city ahead of us. They're still here
because they weren't expecting to go until tomorrow. But I can start them
moving in the next fifteen or twenty min-utes, casually. Or even shortly after
you've left with Toni for the Symphonie. Dahno and I will be going in separate
directions, to rendezvous with the rest of you later. Let Toni tell you what
to do. She knows the plan."
"All right," Bleys said. He looked at Toni, and she smiled at him. Strangely,
for the first time since the light-ing had gone out in the hallway, he had a
sense of safety, with her here. He smiled back. A warmth flowed between them.
CHAPTER 33
"If this is your first visit to the Symphonie des Flam-beaux " Bleys read to
himself with some difficulty from his copy of the brochure that had been
handed to both him and Toni as they came into the auditorium to find their
seats for the performance.
It might be the dimness of the place, but for some rea-son he seemed to have
to strain to keep the letters of the words in focus. The small threat of a
headache was still with him.
" You may feel both the auditorium itself and the unlit Torches of the
Flambeaux in the stage area seem rather utilitarian and unimpressive,
considering the reputation of this great artistic achievement. Rest assured
however, that this impression will vanish once the Flambeaux are lighted and
the performance begun ..."
Bleys paused to glance around him. He and Toni were in excellent seats in the
front row of one of the small pri-vate boxes that took the place of the first
ten ranks of seats in the amphitheater ranks which rose by steps behind the
boxes and occupied some hundred and forty degrees of the circle that was the
auditorium itself.
The remaining two hundred and twenty degrees was filled by the stage area, on
which the slim shapes of the unlit Flambeaux stood like stiff soldiers of
black metal.
Both stage and auditorium did look utilitarian and bare. Probably deliberately
so, in order that the program would seem that much more exciting by contrast.
Bleys returned to reading the brochure.
"Again, for our first-time guests at the Symphonie, perhaps a few more words
of information.
"The Symphonie des Flambeaux is literally a sym-phony; the creative,
disciplined effort of that great com-poser, artist and writer Mohammed
Crombie.
"The composition of it was his lifework; and into its realization has gone a
technology developed by the best minds of Newton.
"It should be understood by those in the audience that what the 'Dance of the
Flames' which you are about to see has been sculptured to do, once the torches
have been lit, is what all successful great works of art manage to do: supply
the listener, viewer or reader with material for that person's own creative
imagination.
"Just as the reader, reading a great work of fiction will begin to 'live' its
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story as if he or she were a part of it, so any performance of the Symphonie
becomes a life experi-ence, unique to the person watching.
"What the viewer sees is built by that person's own cre-ative imagination; and
what he or she sees will never be experienced by anyone else, now, in the past
or in the fu-ture.
"Therefore, the best way to enjoy what the Symphonie has to give, is to simply
let the flames absorb your atten-tion. Let your mind go free to build whatever
it wishes, from their light and movement.
"That way you will not only be making the best use of Mohammed Crombie's great
artistic genius, but your own as well.
"A hint to those who may think this process difficult:
simply watch the flames and let yourself be taken over by them.
"Humans have gazed into the flames and embers of open fires for thousands of
years; and even if you have never done this yourself before, you will find
this sort of watching comes naturally to you. Just abandon all else and give
your full attention to the flames."
The last few lines printed on the brochure seemed to be lost in the white
background of the page they were printed on. Bleys looked up to see the
lighting was being turned down. At the same time, in the increasing gloom, the
Flambeaux awoke. Small blue flames, flickering into red, came to life at the
tops of the torches on the stage.
The light continued to dim until the stage and audito-rium were in near-total
darkness. The flames grew until they were as tall as the torches themselves.
Their increas-ing light seemed to intensify the gloom around and below them,
hiding even the torches themselves, so that what the eye fastened on was only
flames.
Bleys watched, conscious of an unexpected anticipation, mingled with a touch
of wariness. Everything about the design of the auditorium, the pattern of the
torches on stage, and the lighting dimming as the flames grew, seemed to
suggest the Symphonie would produce its ef-fects by a form of hypnosis.
He was a bad hypnotic subject. He had known this ever since he was very young.
An Exotic medician, brought in to relieve him during an illness, had tried to
ease his dis-comfort with hypnosis and found it did not work well with Bleys.
"You're fighting me," he had told Bleys gently. "Just relax and let your mind
follow where I lead it."
"I am relaxing!" said the unhappy five-year-old Bleys. "I'm not fighting I'm
really not. All I want is to feel bet-ter. But I'd really like to know what it
feels like to be hyp-notized."
"I see," said the medician, the Exotic gentleness still in his voice. "That
explains it. What you're doing is trying to stand aside with part of your
attention and watch yourself
being helped. But with what I'm doing now, this won't work for you. You can't
stand apart and watch. You just have to relax and let what will happen,
happen."
"I ... can't!" Bleys wailed.
Nor could he. The medician finally had to give up and give him a chemical form
of relief, which was very much against what the Exotics stood for in medicine.
Since then, Bleys had run into a number of instances of his innate resistance
to hypnotism. His whole life, it seemed, had necessarily concentrated on being
able to stand back and observe not merely himself, but everyone and everything
in the universe.
On the other hand, he had become excellent in the use of hypnosis on those who
accepted it; to the point where the proper tone of voice, the proper body [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]