Constant Fire

"This is mere obfuscation…"

"Doctor Volospion, you are a most obtuse creature."

Miss Ming began to move slowly backwards.

"Mr Bloom I ask only for illumination…"

"I try to bring it. But I have failed with you, as I have failed with everyone but Miss Ming. That is only to be expected of one who is not really alive at all. Can one hold an intelligent conversation with a corpse?"

"You are crudely insulting, Mr Bloom. There is no call…" Doctor Volospion had lost most of his usual self-control.

Mavis Ming, terrified of further conflict in which, somehow she knew she would be the worst sufferer, if her experience were anything to go by, broke in with a nervous yelp:

"Show Mr Bloom your menagerie, Doctor Volospion! The menagerie! The menagerie!"

Doctor Volospion turned glazed and dreaming eyes upon her. "What?"

"The menagerie. There are many entities there that Mr Bloom might wish to converse with."

The Fireclown bent to straighten one of his long shoes and Mavis Ming seized the chance to wink broadly at Doctor Volospion.

"Ah, yes, the menagerie. Mr Bloom?"

"You wish to show me the menagerie?"

"Yes."

"Then lead me to it," said Bloom generously.

Doctor Volospion continued to brood as he advanced before them, through another series of gloomy passages whose gently sloping floors took them still deeper underground. Doctor Volospion had a tendency to favour the subterranean in almost everything.

By the time, however, that they had reached the series of chambers Doctor Volospion chose to call his "crypts", their guide had resumed his normal ma

These halls were far larger than the museum. On either side were reproduced many different environments, in the ma

Enthusiasm returned to Volospion's voice as he pointed out his prizes while they progressed slowly down the central aisle.

"My Christians and my Hare Krishnans," declaimed the Doctor, "My Moslems and my Marxists, my Jews and my Joypushers, my Dervishes, Buddhists, Hindus, Nature-worshippers, Confucians, Leavisites, Sufis, Shintoists, New Shintoists, Reformed Shintoists, Shinto-Scientologists, Mansonite Water-sharers, Anthroposophists, Flumers, Haythornthwaitists, Fundamentalist Ouspenskyians, Sperm Worshippers, followers of the Five Larger Moon Devils, followers of the Stone that Ca

The Fireclown's attention seemed elsewhere.

"The sound," said Doctor Volospion, and he touched a power ring, whereupon the air was filled with a babble of voices as prophets prophesied, preachers preached, messiahs a

The Fireclown raised a hand in assent and Doctor Volospion touched the ring again so that much of the noise died away.

"Well, Mr Bloom, do you find these pronouncements essentially distinguishable from your own?"

But the Fireclown was again studying Mavis Ming who was, in turn, looking extremely self-conscious. She was blushing through her rouge. She pretended to take an interest in the sermon being delivered by a snail-like being from some remote world near the galaxy's centre.

"What?"

Bloom cocked an ear in Volospion's direction. "Distinguishable? Oh, of course. Of course. I respect all the views being expressed. They are, I would agree, a little familiar, some of them. But these poor creatures lack either my power or my experience. I would guess, too, that they lack my courage. Or my purity of purpose. Why do you keep them locked up here?"

Doctor Volospion ignored the final sentence. "Many would differ with you, I think."

"Quite so. But you cease to entertain me, Doctor Volospion. I have decided to take Miss Ming, my Mado

Miss Ming hesitated. She glanced at Doctor Volospion. "Well, I —"

"Do not consult this corpse," Mr Bloom told her. "I shall be your mentor. It is my duty and destiny to remove you from this environment at once, to bring you to the knowledge of your own divinity!"

Mavis Ming breathed heavily, still flushed. Her eyes darted from Bloom to Volospion. "I don't think you'll be removing either me or yourself from this castle, Mr Bloom." She smiled openly now at Doctor Volospion and her eyes were full of hope and terror. They asked a hundred questions. She seemed close to panic and was poised to flee.

Emmanuel Bloom gave a snort of impatience. "Miss Ming, my love, you are mine." His high, fluting voice continued to trill, but it was plain that she no longer heard his words. His birdlike hands touched hers. She screamed.

"Doctor Volospion!"

Doctor Volospion was fully himself. "It is hardly gentlemanly, as I have pointed out, to force your attentions upon a lady, Mr Bloom. I would remind you of your word."

"I keep it. I use no violence."

Doctor Volospion now appeared to be relishing the drama. The fingers of his left hand hovered over the fingers of his right, on which were most of his power rings.

The Fireclown's hands remained on Miss Ming's. "He's really strong!" she cried. "I can't get free, Doctor Volospion. Oo…" It seemed that an almost euphoric weakness suffused her body now. She was panting, incapable of thought; her lips were dry, her tongue was dry, and the only word she could form was a whispered "No".

Doctor Volospion seemed ignorant of the degree of tension in the menagerie. Many of the prophets, both human and alien, had stopped their monologues and now pressed forward to watch the struggle.

Doctor Volospion said firmly: "Mr Bloom, since you remain here as my guest, I would ask you to recall…"

The blue eyes became shrewd even as they stared into Mavis Ming's. "Your guest? No longer. We leave. Do you come, Mavis mine?"

"I — I —" It was as if she wished to say yes to him, yet she continued to pull back as best she could.

"Mr Bloom, you have had your opportunity to leave this planet. You refused to take it. Well, now you have no choice. You shall stay for ever (which is not, we think, that long)."

Mr Bloom raised a knowing head. "What?"

"You have told us, yourself, that you are unique, sir." Doctor Volospion was triumphant. "You prize yourself so highly, I must accept your valuation."

"Eh?"

"From henceforth, Sir Prophet, you will grace my menagerie. Here you will stay — my finest acquisition."

"What? My power!" Did Mr Bloom show genuine surprise? His gestures became melodramatic to a degree.

Doctor Volospion was too full of victory to detect play-acting, if play-acting there was. "Here you may preach to your heart's content. You will find the competition stimulating, I am certain."