So, it's probably about time we returned to this tale.
Fundamental "Turn people into demons?" It was Samual who'd spoken this time, and Lord Derby had to turn his head to see that the young man had stopped in his tracks. "But Elizabeth said... she said that demons were a mathematical construct." "The demons that she showed us certainly were," said Lord Derby. "But the demons here bled, and left behind corpses that rotted. They flew, and were heavier than air and got tired. They weren't mathematical demons that I could see, unless someone was doing some very complicated mathematics. And for what purpose? If you can idealise a demon so that it never gets tired and disappears tidily when dead, why wouldn't you? Surely that's a better demon?" "Of course you would!" Tomasz's face was ashy grey. "So you're talking rubbish, that's not what Grace is doing at all." "He has a point, milord," said Samual slowly. He dropped his eyes to his shoes, not wanting to challenge Lord Derby any further. "Except," said Lord Derby. "Except!" Tomasz's shout was almost a snarl. "You've always got a bloody reason for everything! There's no blood in your veins, is there? Only ice-water that keeps your brain cool so you can be rational and reasonable and calm. All. The. Bloody. Time." He turned away from them and stamped off in the direction of the quarry, his shoulders hunched up around his head and his hands forced so hard into his trouser pockets that the waistband sagged downwards. "He's just upset, milord," said Samual, so quietly that Lord Derby had to concentrate to hear him. "It won't get better," said Lord Derby. "There's something fundamentally wrong with Carcosa, and I think the King in Yellow is at the heart of it. I wish I knew more about him. Or it. I think it might be an it." They followed Tomasz, a little more slowly, holding back so that he could be angry in solitude. Around them the trees shrank into shrubs and they spaced further apart as the bare rock of the land became more exposed. On the horizon a black line appeared, most likely the scar in the land that was the quarry. "I spoke to David Suture when he was in the Tower," said Samual, staring intently at his feet. "God rest his soul," murmured Lord Derby. "I thought the Tower was solitary confinement?" "It is. I wasn't supposed to speak to him, but working for the Lords Martial...." "I see. I have already forgotten that we ever had a conversation like this." "Thank-you milord." There was a note of relief in Samual's voices, and for the first time in a while he looked up. "Dr. Suture told me he'd only ever seen you be wrong twice, and both times it was because you'd been lied to." "That was very generous of him." "Tomasz doesn't want to believe you about the demons, but I think I have to, milord. So... why create demons out of people?" "I wish I knew, Samual. I wish I knew."
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So, it's probably about time we returned to this tale.
Fundamental
"Turn people into demons?" It was Samual who'd spoken this time, and Lord Derby had to turn his head to see that the young man had stopped in his tracks. "But Elizabeth said... she said that demons were a mathematical construct."
"The demons that she showed us certainly were," said Lord Derby. "But the demons here bled, and left behind corpses that rotted. They flew, and were heavier than air and got tired. They weren't mathematical demons that I could see, unless someone was doing some very complicated mathematics. And for what purpose? If you can idealise a demon so that it never gets tired and disappears tidily when dead, why wouldn't you? Surely that's a better demon?"
"Of course you would!" Tomasz's face was ashy grey. "So you're talking rubbish, that's not what Grace is doing at all."
"He has a point, milord," said Samual slowly. He dropped his eyes to his shoes, not wanting to challenge Lord Derby any further.
"Except," said Lord Derby.
"Except!" Tomasz's shout was almost a snarl. "You've always got a bloody reason for everything! There's no blood in your veins, is there? Only ice-water that keeps your brain cool so you can be rational and reasonable and calm. All. The. Bloody. Time."
He turned away from them and stamped off in the direction of the quarry, his shoulders hunched up around his head and his hands forced so hard into his trouser pockets that the waistband sagged downwards.
"He's just upset, milord," said Samual, so quietly that Lord Derby had to concentrate to hear him.
"It won't get better," said Lord Derby. "There's something fundamentally wrong with Carcosa, and I think the King in Yellow is at the heart of it. I wish I knew more about him. Or it. I think it might be an it."
They followed Tomasz, a little more slowly, holding back so that he could be angry in solitude. Around them the trees shrank into shrubs and they spaced further apart as the bare rock of the land became more exposed. On the horizon a black line appeared, most likely the scar in the land that was the quarry.
"I spoke to David Suture when he was in the Tower," said Samual, staring intently at his feet.
"God rest his soul," murmured Lord Derby. "I thought the Tower was solitary confinement?"
"It is. I wasn't supposed to speak to him, but working for the Lords Martial...."
"I see. I have already forgotten that we ever had a conversation like this."
"Thank-you milord." There was a note of relief in Samual's voices, and for the first time in a while he looked up. "Dr. Suture told me he'd only ever seen you be wrong twice, and both times it was because you'd been lied to."
"That was very generous of him."
"Tomasz doesn't want to believe you about the demons, but I think I have to, milord. So... why create demons out of people?"
"I wish I knew, Samual. I wish I knew."
Greg - yes indeed! Though I'm sure the break will prove to be good for both you and the tale, I'm deeply happy to see you pick it up again :)
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