Weaveworld

3

‘You were so difficult to find,’ he said, when they returned to the seclusion of the boarding house, taking a dog’s leg so that Jerichau could steal a bottle of celebratory champagne, ‘I almost caught up with you in Hull, then lost you. But somebody remembered you at your hotel. Said you’d got drunk, Jerichau, is that right? And been helped to bed.’

‘Could be,’ said Jerichau.

‘Anyhow, here I am, and with great news.’

‘What?’ said Suzanna.

‘We’re going back home. Very soon.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Capra says so.’

‘Capra?’ said Jerichau. It was enough to make him neglect his glass. ‘How can that be?’

‘The Prophet says so. It’s all planned. Capra speaks to him –’

‘Wait. Wait!’ said Suzanna. ‘What Prophet?’

‘He says we have to spread the word,’ said Nimrod, his enthusiasm boundless. ‘Find the ones who left the Weave, and tell them liberation’s at hand. I’ve been all over, doing just that. It was by chance I got wind of you. What luck, eh? Nobody knew where you were –’

‘And that was the way it was meant to stay,’ said Suzanna. ‘I was to make contact in my time, when I judged the trail had grown cold.’

‘It is cold,’ said Nimrod. ‘Stone cold. Surely you must have noticed that?’ Suzanna kept her silence. ‘Our enemies have given up the chase,’ he went on. ‘The Prophet knows that. He tells us what Capra says, and Capra says our Suppression is at an end.’

‘Who is this Prophet?’ said Suzanna.

Nimrod’s excited flow ceased. He frowned as he stared at her.

‘The Prophet is the Prophet,’ he said. No further explanation was necessary, it seemed.

‘You don’t even know his name?’ she said.

‘He lived near the Gyre,’ said Nimrod. That much I do know. A hermit, he was, until the weaving. That night, last summer, Capra called him. He left the Weave, to begin his teachings. The tyranny of the Cuckoos is nearly at an end –’

‘I’ll believe that when I see it,’ said Suzanna.

‘You will,’ said Nimrod, with the unshakeable fervour of a true convert. ‘This time, the earth will rise with us. That’s what people are saying. The Cuckoos have made too much mischief. Their Age is over.’

‘Sounds like wish-fulfilment to me.’

‘You may doubt -’ said Nimrod.

‘I do.’

‘– but I’ve seen the Prophet. I’ve heard his words. And they come from Capra.’ His eyes glittered with evangelical glee. ‘I was in the gutter when the Prophet found me. Broken in pieces. Prey to every Cuckoo sickness. Then I heard the Prophet’s voice, and went to him. Now look at me.’

Suzanna had argued with zealots before – her brother had been born again at twenty-three, and given his life to Christ – she knew from experience there was no gainsaying the bigotry of faith. Indeed there was part of her wanted to join the happy throng of believers Nimrod described; throw off the burden of the carpet and let the Fugue begin its life afresh. She was weary of being afraid to meet anybody’s eye, of forever passing through. Any pleasure she might have taken in being an outsider, possessed of a wonderful secret, had long since soured. Now she wanted to have her fingers in clay again, or sit flirting with friends. But tempting as it was, she couldn’t accept this cant and be silent. It stank.

‘How do you know he doesn’t mean us all harm?’ she said.

‘Harm? What harm is there in being free? You have to give the Weave back, Suzanna. I’ll take you to him –’ He snatched hold of her hand as he spoke, as if he was prepared to do it now. She pulled her fingers from his grip.

‘What’s the problem?’ he said.

‘I’m not just going to give the carpet up because you heard the Word,’ she said fiercely.

‘You must,’ he said, as much disbelief as anger in his tone.

‘When does this Prophet speak again?’ said Jerichau.

‘The day after tomorrow,’ Nimrod replied, his eyes still on Suzanna. ‘The chase is over,’ he said to her. ‘You must give the carpet back.’

‘And if I don’t, he’ll come and get it?’ she said, ‘is that the implication?’

‘You Cuckoos –’ Nimrod sighed. ‘Always making things so damn difficult. He’s come to give us Capra’s wisdom. Why can’t you see that?’ He halted a moment. When he spoke again he’d modulated his strident tone. ‘I respect your doubts,’ he said. ‘But you must understand the situation’s changed.’

‘I think we should see this Prophet for ourselves,’ said Jerichau. He cast a glance at Suzanna. ‘Yes?’

She nodded.

‘Yes!’ Nimrod grinned. ‘Yes, he’ll make everything dear to you.’

She longed for that promise to be made true.

‘The day after tomorrow,’ said Nimrod. There’ll be an end to chases.’