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"But you're ill or worried," he went on, not letting go her hands and bending over her. "What were you thinking of?"
"Always the same thing," she said, with a smile, and back in the stable the engineer muttered a curse in English, watching the various needles of his box shoot up into the red.
Anna had spoken the truth. If ever at any moment she had been asked what she was thinking of, she could have answered truly: of the same thing, of her happiness and her unhappiness. She was thinking, just when he came upon her, of this: Why was it that to others it was all easy, while to her it was such torture? Today this thought gained special poignancy from certain other considerations. She asked him about the impending death matches. He answered her questions, and, seeing that she was agitated, trying to calm her, he began telling her in the simplest tone the details of his preparations for the races.
Tell him or not tell him? she thought, looking into his quiet, affectionate eyes. she thought, looking into his quiet, affectionate eyes. He is so happy, so absorbed in his upcoming Cull that he won't understand as he ought, he won't understand all the gravity of this fact to us. He is so happy, so absorbed in his upcoming Cull that he won't understand as he ought, he won't understand all the gravity of this fact to us.
"But you haven't told me what you were thinking of when I came in," he said, interrupting his narrative. "Please tell me!"
She did not answer, and, bowing her head a little, she looked inquiringly at him from under her brows, her eyes s.h.i.+ning under their long lashes. Her hand shook as it played with a leaf she had picked. He saw it, and his face expressed that utter subjection, that slavish devotion, which had done so much to win her; the needles on the Englishman's Cla.s.s I registered the calming effect of adoration on his bloodstream.
"I see something has happened. Do you suppose I can be at peace, knowing you have a trouble I am not sharing? Tell me, for G.o.d's sake," he repeated imploringly.
Abruptly Anna rose and walked to Android Karenina, whom Vronsky had not even noticed, sitting perfectly still on the opposite side of the fountain.
"Yes," Anna sighed to her Cla.s.s III. "I shan't be able to forgive him if he does not realize all the gravity of it. Better not tell; why put him to the test?"
"For G.o.d's sake!" he repeated, circling the fountain and taking her hand.
"Shall I tell you?"
"Yes, yes, yes . . ."
But Anna could not bring herself to speak, and it was Android Karenina who revealed to him the truth, without saying a word: holding her two end-effectors interlaced in front of her midsection, she slowly brought them outward and upward, miming the appearance of a growing stomach, heavy with child.
As Android Karenina enacted this dumb show, the leaf in Anna's hand shook more violently, but she did not take her eyes off Vronsky, watching how he would take it. He turned white, would have said something, but stopped; he dropped her hand, and his head sank on his breast. His reaction might have been still more dramatic, had not the Englishman, noting the sudden spiking wildness on his monitor, keyed the right combination of b.u.t.tons to moderate his heartbeat.
"Yes, he realizes all the gravity of it," Anna said to Android Karenina.
But Anna was mistaken in thinking he felt the weight of the fact in the same way as she, a woman, felt it. What Vronsky felt was that the turning-point he had been longing for had come now; that it was impossible to go on concealing things from her husband, and it was inevitable in one way or another that they should soon put an end to their unnatural position. But, besides that, her emotion physically affected him in the same way. He looked at her with a look of submissive tenderness, kissed her hand, got up, and, in silence, paced up and down the terrace.
"Yes," he said, going up to her resolutely. "Neither you nor I have looked on our relations as a pa.s.sing amus.e.m.e.nt, and now our fate is sealed. It is absolutely necessary to put an end"-he looked round as he spoke-"to the deception in which we are living."
"Put an end? How put an end, Alexei?" she said softly.
She was calmer now, and Android Karenina was glowing with an intense but not unpleasant violet, lending a romantic backlight to her mistress's tender expression.
"Leave your husband and make our life one."
"It is one as it is," she answered, scarcely audibly.
"Yes, but altogether, altogether."
"But how, Alexei, tell me how?" she said in melancholy mockery at the hopelessness of her own position. "Is there any way out of such a position? Am I not the wife of my husband?"
"There is a way out of every position. We must take our line," he said. "Anything's better than the position in which you're living. Of course, I see how you torture yourself over everything-the world and your son and your husband."
"Oh, not over my husband," she said, with a quiet smile. "I don't know him, I don't think of him. He doesn't exist."
"You're not speaking sincerely. I know you. You worry about him too."
"Oh, he doesn't even know," she said, and suddenly a hot flush came over her face; her cheeks, her brow, her neck crimsoned, and tears of shame came into her eyes. "But we won't talk of him."
CHAPTER 12.
VRONSKY HAD SEVERAL TIMES ALREADY, though not so resolutely as now, tried to bring her to consider their position, and every time he had been confronted by the same superficiality and triviality with which she met his appeal now. It was as though there were something in this that she could not or would not face, as though the moment she began to speak of this, she, the real Anna, retreated somehow into herself, and another strange and unaccountable woman came out, whom he did not love, and whom he feared, and who was in opposition to him. But today he was resolved to have it out.
"Whether he knows or not," said Vronsky, in his usual quiet and resolute tone, "that's nothing to do with us. We cannot . . . you cannot stay like this, especially now."
"What's to be done, according to you?" she asked with the same frivolous irony. She who had so feared he would take her condition too lightly was now vexed with him for deducing from it the necessity of taking some step.
"Tell him everything, and leave him."
"Very well, let us suppose I do that," she said. "Do you know what the result of that would be? I can tell you it all beforehand," and a wicked light gleamed in her eyes, which had been so soft a minute before. "'Eh, you love another man, and have entered into criminal intrigues with him?'" (Mimicking her husband's singular appearance, she covered one side of her face with the flat of her hand). "'I warned you of the results in the religious, the civil, and the domestic relation. You have not listened to me. Now I cannot let you disgrace my name'"-and my son, she had meant to say, but about her son she could not jest-'"disgrace my name, and'-and more in the same style," she added. "In general terms, he'll say in his official manner, and with all distinctness and precision, that he cannot let me go, but will take all measures in his power to prevent scandal. And he will calmly and punctually act in accordance with his words. That's what will happen. He's not a man, but a machine, and a spiteful machine when he's angry," she added, recalling Alexei Alexandrovich as she spoke, with all the peculiarities of his figure and manner of speaking and bifurcated apperance, and reckoning against him every defect she could find in him, softening nothing for the great wrong she herself was doing him. she had meant to say, but about her son she could not jest-'"disgrace my name, and'-and more in the same style," she added. "In general terms, he'll say in his official manner, and with all distinctness and precision, that he cannot let me go, but will take all measures in his power to prevent scandal. And he will calmly and punctually act in accordance with his words. That's what will happen. He's not a man, but a machine, and a spiteful machine when he's angry," she added, recalling Alexei Alexandrovich as she spoke, with all the peculiarities of his figure and manner of speaking and bifurcated apperance, and reckoning against him every defect she could find in him, softening nothing for the great wrong she herself was doing him.
It was then she sensed that Vronsky was not listening, and saw that his eyes were fixed on some spot behind her head.
"The swirling . . . ," he said in a low voice, as if hypnotized, and Anna felt irritated by his lack of attention.
"What?"
"The fountain . . . the swirling. . . ." he repeated, and then with sudden force shouted, "Jump!"
Anna, shocked into action by this sudden urgency, leapt forward from where she sat on the wall of the fountain, landing in a disordered heap at Vronsky's feet; he scrambled forward to grasp as her forearms and pulled as hard as he could. Directly behind her, hovering like a storm cloud over the fountain's swirling waters, was what could only be described as a terrible, undulating nothingness: nothingness: a grey-black hole in the fabric of the atmosphere, wavering in the air above the fountain, and pulling, pulling Anna Karenina in toward itself. a grey-black hole in the fabric of the atmosphere, wavering in the air above the fountain, and pulling, pulling Anna Karenina in toward itself.
Vronsky gripped her with all his strength, bracing his feet against the wall of the fountain, resisting with all his strength the violent force, ten times stronger than gravity, that was drawing Anna in. Android Karenina joined the struggle, lacing her fingers around Anna's waist and digging in the base of her heels at the base of the fountain wall.
"What . . . what is . . . ," Anna began, and Vronsky answered immediately: "A G.o.dmouth!" Anna's skirts billowed up behind her, rustled by the phantasmagoric wind bellowing from the portal. "UnConSciya creates them . . . somehow . . . oof. . . oof. . ."
His fingers slipping a little, Vronsky cursed. "Hold on, Anna. Only hold on, a bit longer . . . it will not last long."
"Let me go," said Anna weakly.
"What?"
"What good is living," she said, louder now, "if our life is to be under my husband's my husband's control? Let me go!" She directed this last command to Android Karenina, who by virtue of the Iron Laws could not disobey; she turned her faceplate apologetically to Vronsky and released her grasp. control? Let me go!" She directed this last command to Android Karenina, who by virtue of the Iron Laws could not disobey; she turned her faceplate apologetically to Vronsky and released her grasp.
"But, Anna," said Vronsky, renewing his grip and putting steel into his voice, "we simply must, anyway, tell him, and then be guided by the line he takes."
"And what, run away?"
"And why not not run away?" he shouted desperately. "I don't see how we can keep on like this. And not for my sake-I see that you suffer!" run away?" he shouted desperately. "I don't see how we can keep on like this. And not for my sake-I see that you suffer!"
A fierce wind blew from the terrible depths of the demonic spiral; one of Anna's shoes slipped from her feet and was sucked into the vortex. Vronsky redoubled his efforts to pull her free, nearly dislodging Anna's arm from the socket. He stared over her shoulder at the s.p.a.ce-hole still hovering in the air behind her, glowing like the malevolent eye of a hungry beast. One of Anna's hands came loose from his, and she made no effort to let him grab it again. Her body was virtually slack, and he felt she had given up, in her body and her mind, and was ready to be consumed.
"Anna," he pleaded, "do not quit!"
"Yes," she muttered, almost talking to herself. "Run away, become your mistress, and complete the ruin of. . ."
And she would have said "my son," but she could not utter those words-whether because she could not bear to, or because the force on her body was squeezing the very air from her lungs, Vronsky could not say.
Anna thought of her son, pictured his innocent body hovering before the unfathomable grey void behind her, imagined him caught in such a trap. It came to her that she she had set a trap for him, by falling in love; she thought of his future att.i.tude toward his mother, who had abandoned his father, and she felt such terror at what she had done that she could not face it. She cried out and writhed, and Vronsky lost his grip. The G.o.dmouth widened, like a snake mouth opening to accommodate a rabbit or possum. had set a trap for him, by falling in love; she thought of his future att.i.tude toward his mother, who had abandoned his father, and she felt such terror at what she had done that she could not face it. She cried out and writhed, and Vronsky lost his grip. The G.o.dmouth widened, like a snake mouth opening to accommodate a rabbit or possum.
It was then that Android Karenina broke the Iron Law of obedience.
Dismissing the earlier command to let go, she grabbed Anna by the waist, and with furious mechanical strength pulled her to safety. Together, mistress and robot landed with a thud on the stones of the fountain, and Anna watched with shaded eyes as the queer dimensional portal whooshed whooshed shut and disappeared. shut and disappeared.
For a long moment, Anna stared into the pale purple gleam of Android Karenina's faceplate-and then mouthed the words thank you. thank you. Android Karenina, as ever, said nothing, only straightened up and motored respectfully away, as Vronsky rushed to his lover's side and placed her head lovingly in his lap. Android Karenina, as ever, said nothing, only straightened up and motored respectfully away, as Vronsky rushed to his lover's side and placed her head lovingly in his lap.
"I beg you, I entreat you," Anna said, turning her head away from Vronsky's eyes. "Never speak to me of that!"
"To the contrary!" Vronsky began. "I shall not rest until I discover what cell, what madman, would dare to launch such an attack on you-and why-"
"No," said Anna, shaking her head with impatience. "Never speak to me of my becoming your mistress. Of my ruin, and that of. . ."
"But, Anna . . ."
"Never. Leave it to me. I know all the baseness, all the horror of my position; but it's not so easy to arrange as you think. And leave it to me, and do what I say. Never speak to me of it. Do you promise me? . . . No, no, promise!"
"I promise everything, but I can't be at peace, especially after what you have told me. I can't be at peace, when you can't be at peace . . ."
"I?" she repeated. "Yes, I am worried sometimes; but that will pa.s.s, if you will never talk about this. When you talk about it-it's only then it worries me."
"I don't understand-" he said.
"I know," she interrupted him, "how hard it is for your truthful nature to lie, and I grieve for you. I often think that you have ruined your whole life for me."
"I was just thinking the very same thing," he said. "How could you sacrifice everything for my sake? I can't forgive myself that you're unhappy!"
"I unhappy?" she said, coming closer to him, and looking at him with an ecstatic smile of love. "I am like a hungry man who has been given food. He may be cold, and dressed in rags, and ashamed, but he is not unhappy. I unhappy? No, this is my unhappiness. . . ."
She could hear the sound of her son's voice coming toward them, and glancing swiftly round the terrace, she got up impulsively. Her eyes glowed with the fire he knew so well; with a rapid movement she raised her lovely hands, covered with rings, took his head, looked a long moment into his face, and, raising her face with smiling, parted lips, swiftly kissed his mouth while Android Karenina kept her gaze discretely averted, then pushed him away. She would have gone, but he held her back.
"When?" he murmured in a whisper, gazing in ecstasy at her.
"Tonight, at one o'clock," she whispered, and, with a heavy sigh, she walked with her light, swift step to meet her son.
Vronsky, looking at his watch, went away hurriedly, plagued by questions about the encounter: Why would UnConSciya plant such a trap here? Was it meant for Anna . . . or for him?
And was it UnConSciya at all?
CHAPTER 13.
WHEN VRONSKY LOOKED at his watch, he was so greatly agitated and lost in his thoughts that he saw the figures on the watch's face, but could not take in what time it was. He came out onto the highroad and walked, picking his way carefully through the mud, to his carriage, detaching and reattaching the electrodes to his chest and forehead as he went. He was so completely absorbed in his confusion about the G.o.dmouth that he did not even think what o'clock it was. But the excitement of the approaching Cull gained upon Vronsky as he drove further and further into the atmosphere of the arena, overtaking carriages driving up from the summer villas or out of Petersburg. at his watch, he was so greatly agitated and lost in his thoughts that he saw the figures on the watch's face, but could not take in what time it was. He came out onto the highroad and walked, picking his way carefully through the mud, to his carriage, detaching and reattaching the electrodes to his chest and forehead as he went. He was so completely absorbed in his confusion about the G.o.dmouth that he did not even think what o'clock it was. But the excitement of the approaching Cull gained upon Vronsky as he drove further and further into the atmosphere of the arena, overtaking carriages driving up from the summer villas or out of Petersburg.
He arrived to find Frou-Frou standing in the silo, torso door hanging open, at the ready. They were just going to lead her out.
"I'm not too late?"
"It's all right! It's all right!" said the Englishman, looking nervously at his I/Physiolographer/99. "For Heaven's sakes, don't upset yourself!"
Vronsky once more took in, in one glance, the exquisite lines of his Exterior, which was oscillating all over, quivering with excitement up and down its sleek lines. He surveyed the rows of pavilion seating, quickly scanning the crowd before climbing inside his death-suit to begin combat.
"Oh, there's Karenin!" said an acquaintance from his regiment. "He's looking for his wife, and she's in the middle of the pavilion. Didn't you see her?"
"No," answered Vronsky, and without even glancing round toward the pavilion where his friend was pointing out Madame Karenina, he went up to his Exterior.
In a moment, the cry was heard: "Entrez!" "Entrez!"
Vronsky climbed inside Frou-Frou's groznium torso door and with a series of deft movements attached himself to her contact board. He then slipped his forefinger and index fingers under the palm-sized steering disc, which was his secondary means of control, and pressed its small central b.u.t.ton firmly, once, with his thumb. Instantly the war-machine reared back, tilted her head upward, and fired a ma.s.sive jolt of electricity into the sky. Vronsky smiled: She is ready. She is ready.
Outside the beast, the Englishman puckered up his lips, leaned against the torso door, and shouted in: "Good luck, your Excellency." And then, in English, added his traditional final word of support: "Survive."
Vronsky peered into the long-tube, a periscope-like exterior sensor, to gain a last look at his rivals. Once the match began, they would in the grand tradition of the Cull no longer be his beloved fellow Border Officers, but targets. One Exterior, belonging to a drinking companion of his, Oposhenko, was in the shape of a ma.s.sive arachnid, with glittering golden "eyes" that Vronsky knew could exert a powerful magnetic force, to draw enemies into the Exterior's "web." A second battle-suit was a modified sledge, with engines attached to the back, allowing it to function as a kind of battering ram, simple but effective. Galtsin, a friend of Vronsky's and one of his more formidable rivals, had an Exterior patriotically fas.h.i.+oned in the shape of a ma.s.sive sickle, such as that used in the time of the Tsars by traditional peasants in their fields; she could roll with deadly speed along the periphery of the conflict, and then dart in to slice through heavy armor plating with her sharpened edge.
A little light hussar was boldly taking the field in a modified Exterior, which one did not wear at all; in tight riding breeches he shot by astride a missile, which he had harnessed and sat upon like a cat on the saddle, in imitation of English jockeys. How this hussar could hope to kill his opponents and yet survive himself, it was impossible for Vronsky to conceive. Prince Kuzovlev rode out inside a monolithic block of black groznium, which Vronsky knew to be well-armored but utterly useless in offensive capability. Vronsky and all his comrades knew Kuzovlev and his peculiarity of "weak nerves" and terrible vanity. They knew that he was afraid of everything, and therefore had entered the field in this upright coffin of an Exterior, prepared to survive survive a Cull, but never to a Cull, but never to win win one. one.
The combatants were ambling and motoring forward past a dammed-up stream on their way to the starting point. Several of the riders were in front and several behind, when suddenly Vronsky heard the sound of a loud, primitive engine in the mud behind him, and he was overtaken by Mahutin inside his fat-bellied, curiously adorable Exterior, Matryoshka, with the fat, rounded bottom, tapered top, and jaunty, painted peasant's face. Vronsky grimaced and looked angrily at him; there was something curious about that Exterior, and Vronsky regarded him now as his most formidable rival.
Frou-Frou, feeding off Vronsky's antic.i.p.ation like a horse lapping at a clearwater stream, engaged her powerful rear legs in an excited dash to the starting point, thrusting Vronsky back against the rear wall of the c.o.c.kpit.
"This is going to be a worthy match," he thought.
CHAPTER 14.
THERE WERE SEVENTEEN Border Officers in all competing in the Cull. The arena was a large three-mile ring in the form of an ellipse in front of the pavilion. On this course nine obstacles had been arranged: the stream, a big and solid barrier five feet high, just before the pavilion, a dry ditch, a ditch full of water, a precipitous slope, an Irish barricade (one of the most difficult obstacles, consisting of a mound fenced with brushwood); then two more ditches filled with water, and one dry one; and the end of the race was just facing the pavilion. Border Officers in all competing in the Cull. The arena was a large three-mile ring in the form of an ellipse in front of the pavilion. On this course nine obstacles had been arranged: the stream, a big and solid barrier five feet high, just before the pavilion, a dry ditch, a ditch full of water, a precipitous slope, an Irish barricade (one of the most difficult obstacles, consisting of a mound fenced with brushwood); then two more ditches filled with water, and one dry one; and the end of the race was just facing the pavilion.
Every eye, every opera gla.s.s, was turned on the gleaming, brightly colored group of exoskeletons at the moment they were in line to start.
At last the umpire shouted, "Away!" and the omnidirectional destruction began "They're off! They're starting!" was heard on all sides after the hush of expectation.