Piranesi(17)

‘I see,’ I said. (This did indeed put things in a slightly different light.)

‘And personally,’ continued the Other, ‘I think that this search is so important, so absolutely vital that I have to keep going. No matter what. I don’t have any choice. If your decision is to stop looking – well, in that case I suppose we’d no longer be colleagues. Our meetings on Tuesdays and Fridays – we’d no longer have them. Because what would be the point? I’d be pursuing my researches and you’d be off’ – he gestured vaguely –‘doing whatever it is that you do. This isn’t what I want of course, let me be very clear about that, but it is the way things would have to be. So that’s the second reason.’

‘Oh!’ I said. It had never occurred to me that he and I would cease to be colleagues. ‘But working with you is one of the great pleasures of my life!’

‘I know,’ said the Other. ‘And of course, I feel the same way.’ He paused. ‘Now I need to tell you the third reason. But before I do that, I need you to hear something else.’ He gazed intently and searchingly into my face. ‘This is the most vital thing I have to say. Piranesi, this isn’t the first time you’ve told me that you want to stop the search for the knowledge. This isn’t the first time I’ve explained why that’s not the right course of action. Everything we’ve just said? We’ve said it all before.’

‘I … What?’ I said. I blinked at him in astonishment. ‘What? … No. No. That is not correct.’

‘Yes, I’m afraid it is. You see, the labyrinth plays tricks on the mind. It makes people forget things. If you’re not careful it can unpick your entire personality.’

I sat dumbfounded. ‘How many times have we said it?’ I said at last.

He thought for a moment. ‘This is the third time. There’s a pattern. The idea of stopping the search for the knowledge seems to occur to you roughly once every eighteen months.’ He glanced at my face. ‘I know. I know,’ he said, sympathetically. ‘It’s hard to take in.’

‘But I do not understand,’ I protested. ‘I have an excellent memory. I remember every Hall I have ever visited. There are seven thousand, six hundred and seventy-eight of them.’

‘You never forget anything about the labyrinth. That is why your contribution to my work is so valuable. But you do forget other things. And, of course, you lose time.’

‘What?’ I said, startled.

‘Time. You’re always losing it.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know. You get days and dates wrong.’

‘I do not,’ I said, indignant.

‘Yes, you do. It’s a bit of a pain, to be honest. My schedule’s always so packed. I come to meet you and you’re nowhere to be seen because you’ve lost a day again. I’ve had to put you right numerous times when your perception of time has got out of sync.’

‘Out of sync with what?’

‘With me. With everyone else.’

I was astonished. I did not believe him. But neither did I disbelieve him. I did not know what to think. But in all my uncertainty one thing was clear, one thing remained that I could absolutely rely on: the Other was honest, noble and industrious. He would not lie. ‘But why do you not forget?’ I asked.

The Other hesitated for a moment. ‘I take precautions,’ he said carefully.

‘Could I not take them too?’

‘No. No. That wouldn’t work. Sorry. I can’t go into the whys and wherefores. It’s complicated. I’ll explain it to you one day.’

This was not very satisfactory but just then I did not have the energy or mental capacity to pursue it. I was too busy thinking about what I might have forgotten.

‘From my point of view this is very worrying,’ I said. ‘Suppose I forget something important, like the Times and Patterns of the Tides? I might drown.’

‘No, no, no,’ said the Other, soothingly. ‘There’s no need to worry about that. You never forget anything like that. I wouldn’t let you go wandering about if I thought you were in the slightest danger. We’ve known each other for years now and in that time your knowledge of the labyrinth has grown exponentially. It’s extraordinary, really. And as for the rest, anything important you forget, I can remind you. But the fact that you forget while I remember – that’s why it’s so vital that I set our objectives. Me. Not you. That’s the third reason we should stick to our search for the knowledge. Do you see?’

‘Yes. Yes. At least …’ I was silent a moment. ‘I need time to think,’ I said.

‘Of course. Of course,’ said the Other. He patted me consolingly on the shoulder. ‘We’ll discuss it again on Tuesday.’

He rose to his feet and went over to the Empty Plinth and examined the little shining device lying there. ‘In any case,’ he said, ‘I need to get going. I’ve been here almost fifty-five minutes.’ Without another word he turned and set off in the direction of the First Vestibule.

The World does not bear out the Other’s claim that there are gaps in my memory

ENTRY FOR THE TWENTY-THIRD DAY OF THE SIXTH MONTH IN THE YEAR THE ALBATROSS CAME TO THE SOUTH-WESTERN HALLS

The World (so far as I can tell) does not bear out the Other’s claim that there are gaps in my memory.