I became glass-like and saw within myself. There were two selves in
me. One, the former D-503, Number D-503; and the other.... Before,
that other used only to show his hairy paws from time to time, but
now the whole other self left his shell. That shell was breaking,
and in a moment....
Grasping with all my strength the last straw (the arms of the
chair), I asked loudly (so as to hear my first self), "Where, where
did you get this poison?"
"Oh, this? A physician, one of my...."
"'One of my! one of my' what?" And my other self jumped up suddenly
and yelled: "I won't allow it! I want no one but me.... I shall
kill any one who.... Because I.... You." ... I saw my other self
grasp her rudely with his hairy paws, tear the silk, and put his
teeth in her flesh!... I remember exactly, his teeth!...
I do not remember how, but I-330 slipped away and I saw her
straightened, her head raised high, her eyes overlain by that cursed
impenetrable curtain. She stood leaning with her back against the
closet door and listening to me.
I remember I was on the floor; I embraced her limbs, kissed her
knees and cried supplicatingly, "At once, right away, right away."
Sharp teeth.... The sharp mocking triangle of the brows.... She bent
over and in silence unbuttoned my badge.
"Yes, yes, dear--dear."
I began hastily to remove my unif. But I-330, silent as before,
lifted my badge to my eyes, showing me the clock upon it. It was
twenty-two-twenty-five.
I became cold. I knew what it meant to be out in the street after
twenty-two-thirty. My insanity disappeared at once. I was again
I. I saw clearly one thing: I hated her, hated her, hated-- ...
Without saying good-bye, without looking back, I ran out of the
room. Hurriedly trying to fasten the badge back in its place, I
ran down the stairs (I was afraid lest some one notice me in the
elevator), and jumped out into a deserted street.
Everything was in its place; life so simple, ordinary, orderly.
Glittering glass houses, pale glass sky, a greenish, motionless
night. But under that cool glass something wild, something red
and hairy, was silently seething. I was gasping for breath but I
continued to run, so as not to be late.
Suddenly I felt that my badge which I had hurriedly pinned on, was
detaching itself; it came off and fell to the sidewalk. I bent
over to pick it up and in the momentary silence I heard somebody's
steps. I turned. Someone small and hunched was disappearing around
the corner. At least so it seemed. I started to run as fast as I
could. The wind whistled in my ears. At the entrance of my house I
stopped and looked at the clock; one minute to twenty-two-thirty! I
listened; nobody behind. It was my foolish imagination, the effect
of the poison.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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