Stanislaw Lem - Return from the Stars

Silence. The whole house was quiet. I bent my head over her hands, which lay limp in mine, and began to speak to them.

“Eri. Eri. Now you know you don’t have to be afraid, right? That nothing threatens you. But this is — so big. Eri. I didn’t know… I swear to you. Why does man fly to the stars? I cannot understand. Because this is here. But maybe you have to go there first, to understand it. Yes, that’s possible. I’ll go now. I’m going. Forget all this. You’ll forget?”

She nodded.

“You won’t tell anyone?”

She shook her head.

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

It was a whisper.

“Thank you.”

I left. Stairs. A cream-colored wall; another, green. The door of my room. I opened the window wide, I breathed in. How good the air was. From the moment I left her, I was completely calm. I even smiled — not with my mouth, not with my face. My smile was inside, pitying, toward my own stupidity, that I had not known, and it was so simple. Bent over, I went through the contents of the sports bag. Among the ropes? No. Some packages, was that it, no, wait a minute…

I had it. I straightened up, and suddenly I was embarrassed.

The lights. I couldn’t, like that. I went to turn them off and found Olaf standing in the doorway. He was dressed. Hadn’t he gone to bed?

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? What do you have there? Don’t hide it!”

“It’s nothing.”

“Show me!”

“No. Go away.”

“Show me!”

“No.”

“I knew it. You bastard!”

I did not expect the blow. My hand opened, dropping it, it clattered on the floor, and then we were fighting, I held him beneath me, he flung me off, the desk toppled, the lamp hit the wall with a crash that shook the house. Now I had him. He couldn’t break away, he only twisted, I heard a cry, her cry, and released him, and jumped back.

She was standing at the door.

Olaf got up on his knees.

“He wanted to kill himself. Because of you!” he croaked. He held his throat. I turned my face away. I leaned against the wall, my legs trembled under me. I was so ashamed, so horribly ashamed. She looked at us, first at one, then at the other. Olaf still held his throat.

“Go, both of you,” I said quietly.

“You’ll have to finish me off first.”

“For pity’s sake.”

“No.”

“Please, go,” she said to him. I stood silent, my mouth open. Olaf looked at her, dumbstruck.

“Girl, he…”

She shook her head.

Keeping his eyes on us, he edged out of the room.

She looked at me.

“Is it true?” she asked.

“Eri…”

“You must?”

I nodded yes. And she shook her head.

“You mean… ?” I said. And again, stammering, “You mean… ?” She was silent. I went to her and saw that she was cringing, that her hands were shaking as she clutched the loose edge of her fluffy robe.

“Why? Why are you so afraid?”

She shook her head.

“No?”

“No.”

“But you are trembling.”

“It’s nothing.”

“And… you’ll go away with me?”

She nodded twice, like a child. I embraced her, as gently as I was able. As if she were made of glass.

“Don’t be afraid…” I said. “Look…”

My own hands shook. Why had they not shaken then, when I slowly turned gray, waiting for Arder? What reserves, what innermost recesses had I reached at last, in order to learn my worth?

“Sit down,” I said. “You are still trembling? But no, wait.”

I put her on my bed, covered her up to the neck.

“Better?”

She nodded, better. Was she mute only with me, or was this her way?

I knelt by the bed.

“Tell me something,” I whispered.

“What?”

“About yourself. Who you are. What you do. What you desire. No — what you desired before I landed on you like a ton of bricks.”

She gave a small shrug, as if saying, “There is nothing to tell.”

“You don’t want to speak? Why, is it that… ?”

“It’s not important,” she said. It was as if she had struck me with those words. I drew back.

“You mean… Eri… you mean…” I stammered. But I understood now. I understood perfectly.

I jumped up and began to pace the room.

“Not that way. I can’t, that way. I can’t. No, I…”

I gaped. Again. Because she was smiling. The smile was so faint, it was barely perceptible.

“Eri, what… ?”

“He is right,” she said.

“Who?”

“That man, your friend.”

“Right about what?”

It was difficult for her to say it. She looked away.

“That you are not wise.”

“How do you know he said that?”

“I heard him.”

“Our conversation? After dinner?”

She nodded. Blushed. Even her ears went pink.

“I could not help hearing. Your voices were awfully loud. I would have gone out, but…”

I understood. The door of her room was in the hallway. What an idiot I had been! I thought. I was stunned.

“You heard everything?”

She nodded.

“And you knew that it was about you?”

“Mhm.”

“But how? Because I never mentioned…”

“I knew before that.”

“How?”

She moved her head.

“I don’t know. I knew. That is, at first I thought I was imagining it.”

“And when, later?”

“I don’t know. Yes, during the day. I felt it.”

“You were afraid?” I asked glumly.

“No.”

“No? Why not?”

She gave a wan smile.

“You are exactly, exactly like…”

“Like what?”

“Like in a fairy tale. I did not know that one could be that way… and if it were not for the fact that… you know… I would have thought it was a dream.”

“It isn’t, I assure you.”

“Oh, I know. I only said it that way. You know what I mean?”

“Not exactly. It seems I am dense, Eri. Yes, Olaf was right. I am a blockhead. An out-and-out blockhead. So speak plainly, won’t you?”

“All right. You think that you are frightening, but you’re not at all. You only…”

She fell silent, as if unable to find the words. I had been listening with my mouth half open.

“Eri, child, I… I didn’t think that I was frightening, no. Nonsense. I assure you. It was only when I arrived, and listened, and learned various things… but enough. I’ve said enough. Too much. I have never in my life been so talkative. Speak, Eri. Speak.” I sat on the bed.

“I have nothing to say, really. Except… I don’t know…”

“What don’t you know?”

“What is going to happen?”

I leaned over her. She looked into my eyes. Her eyelids did not flicker. Our breaths mingled.

“Why did you let me kiss you?”

“I don’t know.”

I touched her cheek with my lips. Her neck. I lay with my head upon her shoulder. Never before had I felt like this. I had not known that I could feel this way. I wanted to weep.

“Eri,” I whispered voicelessly, mouthing the words. “Eri. Save me.”

She lay motionless. I could hear, as if at a great distance, the rapid beating of her heart. I sat up.

“Could…” I began, but hadn’t the courage to finish. I got up, picked up the lamp, set the desk right, and stumbled over something — the penknife. It lay on the floor. I threw it into the suitcase. I turned to her.

“I’ll put out the light,” I said. “OK?”

She did not answer. I touched the switch. The darkness was complete, even in the open window, no lights, not even distant lights, were visible. Nothing. Black. As black as out there.

I closed my eyes. The silence hummed.

“Eri,” I whispered. She did not reply. I sensed her fear. I groped toward the bed. I listened for her breath, but the ringing silence drowned out everything, as if it had materialized in the darkness and now was the darkness. I ought to leave, I thought. Yes. I would leave at once. But I bent forward and with a kind of clairvoyance found her face. She held her breath.