“How could you tell?”
“It was his eyes,” explained Alexander. “They had changed colour. The next morning, when I saw his face, I knew he had done it. He told me, too, laughing, and then I smelled the fire. It spread so quickly that there was no time to stop it. Now that he was immortal, he wanted to destroy the very mechanism of his creation. He wanted to be the only one. What he didn’t know—not for hundreds of years—was that I had hidden the complete live-forever machine elsewhere for safekeeping.”
Eric glanced through a tiny glass window in one of the storage-room doors. All he could make out were the hard lines and corners of sealed boxes and crates. He shivered. There was something eerie about it, like a room with all the furniture covered over with sheets, dead.
“Looking at Coyle’s face that morning, I realized what an evil thing had been born. He laughed contemptuously as the library burned and toppled. It gave him tremendous pleasure. He told me that only by laying waste to the past could he attain his dreamed-of future. Then he fled, and that was the last I saw of him for nearly three centuries.
“I felt as if the contents of Pandora’s box had been loosed on the world for a second time.Something had to be done. I feared that he would desecrate everything old that came within his reach. There had to be balance. So that night, I too turned myself immortal with the live-forever machine, and I left Alexandria forever.”
At the end of the corridor was a small door, secured by deadbolts and a steel bar. From one of the pockets in his coveralls, Alexander produced a large ring bristling with keys. After opening the locks, he slid the rusting metal beam to one side.
The door swung open into darkness. A warm, fetid wind hit Eric in the face, making his nostrils and throat contract in revulsion. Alexander reached around through the doorway and pulled out an oil lantern. He lit it.
“Watch your footing,” Alexander warned him.
Eric looked dubiously at the wooden staircase, rotted by dampness, some steps missing altogether.
“ ‘Each day we take another step to hell,’ “ Alexander intoned. “ ‘Descending through the stench, unhorrified …’ “
The stairs were built down against the four walls of a square shaft, slanting into darkness.
“I wandered through the ruins of the Empire,” Alexander continued. “I collectedthings that would have been lost forever in the chaos and hid them in secret places in wait for a more stable time. I tried to compensate for what had been lost in the library fire. Moreover, every object I ferreted away was one thing less for Coyle to destroy, one thing more that would survive the ages.”
“What did Coyle do after he left Alexandria?” Eric was trying to breathe through his mouth so he wouldn’t smell the stale stench of the cellars.
“He became a marauder. I would hear rumours of monastery libraries mysteriously burned to the ground, or castle keeps plundered. What he didn’t destroy, he hoarded and sold years later for enormous profits. He’d become very wealthy by the time I met him again.
“He didn’t recognize me at first. I had to call him by his birth name, speak of Alexandria and the library. Then he remembered. How he paled! He thought I was a ghost! But he slowly came to realize there must have been another copy of the live-forever machine.”
They reached a landing with a door, but Alexander hurried Eric past it.
“I told him that he had destroyed only my working papers in the fire. I told him as well that he had missed one very important piece of the machine—the mechanism that enables aperson to unmake himself or others. I warned him that if he did not cease his wanton destruction, I would cast him into the abyss of time.”
“Could you really do that?” Eric asked. His mind was beginning to cloud. It was too much all at once, too much to keep straight.
“Yes. If you drown a second time, you are
“It was his eyes,” explained Alexander. “They had changed colour. The next morning, when I saw his face, I knew he had done it. He told me, too, laughing, and then I smelled the fire. It spread so quickly that there was no time to stop it. Now that he was immortal, he wanted to destroy the very mechanism of his creation. He wanted to be the only one. What he didn’t know—not for hundreds of years—was that I had hidden the complete live-forever machine elsewhere for safekeeping.”
Eric glanced through a tiny glass window in one of the storage-room doors. All he could make out were the hard lines and corners of sealed boxes and crates. He shivered. There was something eerie about it, like a room with all the furniture covered over with sheets, dead.
“Looking at Coyle’s face that morning, I realized what an evil thing had been born. He laughed contemptuously as the library burned and toppled. It gave him tremendous pleasure. He told me that only by laying waste to the past could he attain his dreamed-of future. Then he fled, and that was the last I saw of him for nearly three centuries.
“I felt as if the contents of Pandora’s box had been loosed on the world for a second time.Something had to be done. I feared that he would desecrate everything old that came within his reach. There had to be balance. So that night, I too turned myself immortal with the live-forever machine, and I left Alexandria forever.”
At the end of the corridor was a small door, secured by deadbolts and a steel bar. From one of the pockets in his coveralls, Alexander produced a large ring bristling with keys. After opening the locks, he slid the rusting metal beam to one side.
The door swung open into darkness. A warm, fetid wind hit Eric in the face, making his nostrils and throat contract in revulsion. Alexander reached around through the doorway and pulled out an oil lantern. He lit it.
“Watch your footing,” Alexander warned him.
Eric looked dubiously at the wooden staircase, rotted by dampness, some steps missing altogether.
“ ‘Each day we take another step to hell,’ “ Alexander intoned. “ ‘Descending through the stench, unhorrified …’ “
The stairs were built down against the four walls of a square shaft, slanting into darkness.
“I wandered through the ruins of the Empire,” Alexander continued. “I collectedthings that would have been lost forever in the chaos and hid them in secret places in wait for a more stable time. I tried to compensate for what had been lost in the library fire. Moreover, every object I ferreted away was one thing less for Coyle to destroy, one thing more that would survive the ages.”
“What did Coyle do after he left Alexandria?” Eric was trying to breathe through his mouth so he wouldn’t smell the stale stench of the cellars.
“He became a marauder. I would hear rumours of monastery libraries mysteriously burned to the ground, or castle keeps plundered. What he didn’t destroy, he hoarded and sold years later for enormous profits. He’d become very wealthy by the time I met him again.
“He didn’t recognize me at first. I had to call him by his birth name, speak of Alexandria and the library. Then he remembered. How he paled! He thought I was a ghost! But he slowly came to realize there must have been another copy of the live-forever machine.”
They reached a landing with a door, but Alexander hurried Eric past it.
“I told him that he had destroyed only my working papers in the fire. I told him as well that he had missed one very important piece of the machine—the mechanism that enables aperson to unmake himself or others. I warned him that if he did not cease his wanton destruction, I would cast him into the abyss of time.”
“Could you really do that?” Eric asked. His mind was beginning to cloud. It was too much all at once, too much to keep straight.
“Yes. If you drown a second time, you are
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