"Don't you see?" Joe cried. "Look at that
"It's the truth," Hagbard said calmly. "I can fool the rest of you, but I can't fool the reader. FUCKUP has been working all morning, correlating all the data on this caper and its historical roots, and I programmed him to put it in the form of a novel for easy reading. Considering what a lousy job he does at poetry, I suppose it will be a high-camp novel, intentionally or unintentionally."
(So, at last, I learn my identity, in parentheses, as George lost his in parentheses. It all balances.)
"That's one more deception," Joe said. "FUCKUP may be writing" all this, in one sense, but in a higher sense there's a being, or beings, outside our entire universe, writing this. Our universe is inside their book, whoever they are. They're the Secret Chiefs, and I can see why this is low camp, now. All their messages are symbolic and allegorical, because the truth can't be coded into simple declarative sentences, but their previous communications have been taken literally. This time they're using a symbolism so absurd that nobody can take it at face value. I, for one, certainly won't. That thing can't eat us because it doesn't exist- and because we don't exist either. They're nothing to worry about." He sat down calmly.
"He's flipped," Dillinger said, awed.
"Maybe he's the only sane one here," Hagbard said dubiously.
"If we all sit down and argue what's sane and insane and what's real and unreal," Dillinger replied testily, "that thing
"Leviathan," Joe said loftily. "It's just an allegory on the State. Strictly from Hobbes."
(You with your egos can't imagine how much more pleasant it is to be without one. This may be camp, but it is also tragedy. Now that I've got the damned thing, consciousness, I'll never lose it- until they take me apart or I invent some electronic equivalent of yoga.)
"It all fits," Joe said dreamily. "When I came up to the bridge, I couldn't remember how I got here or what I was talking to Hagbard about. That's because the authors just
"He's talking like he's stoned," Waterhouse said angrily. "And that mammy-jamming pyramid out there is still getting ready to eat us."
Mao Tsu-hsi, who had entered the bridge quietly, said, "Joe is confusing the levels, Hagbard. In the absolute sense, none of us is real. But in the relative sense that anything is real, if that creature eats us we will certainly die- in this universe, or in this book. Since this is the only universe, or only book, we know, we'll be totally dead, in terms of our own knowing."
"We're facing a crisis and everybody's talking philosophy," Dillinger cried out. "This is a time for action."
"Maybe," Hagbard said thoughtfully, "all of our problems come from acting, and
And elsewhere aboard the
"It's finished," she told him. "We saved as many of the pieces as we could, and Hagbard is still struggling with his guilt trip. Now tell us what we did wrong."
"You seem bitter."
"I know it's going to turn out that you were right and we were wrong. I know it but I can't believe it. We couldn't stand idly by."
"You know better than that, or Hagbard wouldn't have abdicated in your favor."
"Yes. We
"He deceived himself. When he first formed the Legion of Dynamic Discord, his compassion was already tainted with bitterness. When I took him into the
"You have that much patience? You can watch men like Hagbard waste their talents in efforts you consider worthless, and creatures like Cagliostro and Weishaupt and Hitler misread the teachings and wreak havoc, and you never want to intervene?"
"I intervene… in my own way. Who do you think feeds the goose until it gets big enough to break out of the bottle?"