Полёт фантазии, фантазии в полёте - [68]

By the manner in which he started to talk to Sarah, Julia guessed that he was awfully angry. The poor creature looked so frightened — as if he was going to kill her.

«What are they talking about?» — wondered Julia and without a second thought clicked her fingers.

The next moment infinite terror and loneliness penetrated her soul. Julia couldn’t find in her own emotional experience equivalent of such a dark and hopeless deadlock.

— «Please, Steve, don’t tell my father. It would kill him», — begged Sarah, — «I’ll do anything you want, only don’t tell my father».

— «Oh, yes. He’ll be pleased to learn that his only beloved daughter is taking drugs and sleeping with anyone just to get her daily fix», — the man gave a sinister laugh.

— «But you know that I’ve given it up, and I’ll never do it again!»

«My God, this exquisitely beautiful young creature is a drug-victim!» — Julia was shocked. «I must save her. But how? Impossible to try to influence her from the inside, it’ll only hurt her and may even kill. And what if I use the right of extra-switching?» — Julia marvelled at the viability of her decision and clicked the fingers once again.

The first moment she felt giddy — two switchings at once! — but quickly recovered and started to examine her new soul-bearer. Steve’s soul was a strange land; everything was alien to her: alien thoughts, alien emotions, alien feelings. She had a curious sensation that she had secretly entered the enemy’s territory. And it was the enemy’s territory, for Steve had no soul in her view: the images were dark and blurred, the thoughts — disorderly and disconnected low and primitive desires. Julia immediately identified him as the Poor Coco type, wonderfully depicted by her favourite writer, John Fowles.

Julia had always been interested in this particular type of human being, for it demonstrated a remarkable ability to survive and prosper under any conditions. There was nothing whatsoever that could prevent them from getting a regular share of low pleasures — no human values, no moral laws, no inner restrictions. Once Julia had had a dispute on this subject with Jim: she had tried to understand how a person, who committed a crime, even a minor one, sort of indecency, could go on living in peace with his conscience and enjoying life without the slightest remorse. Jim had explained to her this phenomenon on a perfectly scientific basis — in terms of social biology or bio-psychology or something of the kind — she didn’t remember. The thing she did remember well was that animal-oriented type people owing to their better adaptability were gradually ousting the intellect-oriented type.

— «O’K», — said Steve, — «I’ll give you a chance. If you take some things for my friend in China, I won’t say anything to your dearest papa».

«Thank you, Steve», — Sarah stopped crying and Julia noticed a blink of hope in her eyes.

— «What must I take?»

— «A brief-case, just a small brief-case with presents. I’ll call you tomorrow», — said Steve and left.

Julia felt that he was plotting something and right she was.

«A fool», — thought Steve, — «they’re all the same, these pretty dolls: want to get pleasures for nothing».

Steve was driving his new silver-green Mercedes so fast that Julia was afraid they would crash into something. Luckily they didn’t, and after half an hour of crazy driving, which Steve had positively enjoyed, he parked his car in front of an old red-brick house somewhere near Westhill Park. It was getting dark and the only thing Julia noticed while Steve waiting for someone to open the door was dirty windows and shabby walls.

A pale punk-looking boy of about twenty let them in and Julia found herself in a large untidy room, the decoration of which betrayed an absolute absence of taste on the part of its inhabitants. Everything was tasteless: green plastic furniture, red carpet, cheap abstract paintings on the blotchy wall-paper, a big Victorian bed — an easily recognisable fake, all presented a strange mixture of styles, which was unpleasant and even shocking. And the smell: «What an awful smell», — reflected Julia, — «as if the room hadn’t been aired for ages».

Julia thought she would never last through that evening: her soul-bearer was drinking whiskey and watching idiotic video-films. Steve and his punk-looking companion laughed like mad at scenes which made Julia sick. Several times she was about to click her fingers, but the memory of tears, running down Sarah’s beautiful face stopped her. She wanted justice: if there is no God, she will do justice and return the radiant smile to that charming girl.

That night Julia had to live through the filthiest thing she could ever imagine. — «Disgusting! And this obscenity, this violation of Nature’s greatest law has been made legal, it is becoming the norm! And if society accepts a clear case of abnormality as the norm, it can only mean that this society has gone off the rails. Crazy people are no longer considered to be crazy, and they are gradually ousting normal people. „Displacement of the social norm can lead to catastrophe“, — Jim used to say. Yes, poor Cocos are ousting us, we shall all have to turn into rhinoceroses one day» — Julia was so horrified by these dark Ionesco-like prospects that she shivered and wept all night. Steve had an awful night too, «Damn it all, what a headache, never had it before. As if someone is weeping inside me and hurting my temples with a hammer… Damn it!»