Impressions of Africa (French Literature Series) (27 page)

T
HE DAY AFTER HIS VICTORY,
the emperor sent Sirdah over with a complicated mission.

Talou, who combined the functions of religious leader and sovereign, was to crown himself king of Drelchkaff, a privilege to which his latest triumph entitled him.

The monarch thought he might heighten the prestige of his eminent decree by having it coincide with the Incomparables’ gala.

Seeking to impress his subjects, he also asked after some grandiose tradition that was customary among whites.

Juillard immediately thought of the Holy Ampulla and offered to provide all the relevant details on how to administer the sacred unction. Meanwhile, Chènevillot volunteered to build a small altar on the north side of Trophy Square.

This first question settled, Sirdah continued her list of demands.

As Yaour IX had no relatives directly descended from Yaour I, his death marked the definitive extinction of his bloodline.

To embellish the coronation ceremony and affirm the incontestable rights of the Talous, the emperor wished to exhibit a kind of genealogical record which, taking Suann as starting point, would underscore once and for all the annihilation of the rival branch.

Very proud of his European origins, the emperor expected the document to showcase the ancient portrait, piously handed down from father to son in the Talou lineage, that depicted the two Spanish sisters who had married Suann.

Juillard gladly assumed the task of drawing up this proclamation, which would decorate the altar that Chènevillot had already built in his mind.

Alongside these various details, a curious minor role was to be played by the actual body of the unfortunate Yaour.

The tip of the lance on which the emperor had impaled the late king was, like many Ponukelean weapons, coated with a virulent poison that not only caused certain death but also possessed the strange property of retarding putrefaction of the bodily tissues.

The corpse of the illustrious nemesis could therefore, even after an extended delay, be displayed for the ceremony beneath the wilted rubber tree formerly dedicated to the race of Yaours.

As the emperor saw it, this humiliation imposed on the cursed plant demanded, by contrast, a glorious decoration for the palm tree that Talou IV had later planted.

The painter Toresse was chosen to create a commemorative sign recalling the now-distant restoration, which fell on exactly the same date as the tree’s original planting.

Sirdah further informed us that the day of the coronation would also see the deaths of all the convicts, with Rao as executioner.

Gaiz-duh, whose request for a sumptuous reward had been met only by this reply from the emperor: “You are a traitor, and you shall be punished as a traitor,” was to be beheaded with an axe; its blade, made of a special wood as hard as steel, could prevent blood from spattering.

The soles of Mossem’s feet would be seared with a red-hot poker, which would etch one by one the mendacious characters that he himself had inscribed on Sirdah’s death certificate.

Rul would perish speared by the long golden needles that for so many years had ornamented her hair; their tips would pierce her flesh through the eyelets in the red corset, now reduced to rags by excess wear.

For Jizme, the emperor, whose imagination had run dry, asked us to suggest some torture common in our country. Chènevillot then had a thought that both spared the condemned woman any suffering and had the added advantage of possibly staying the execution for a very long time. Among his supplies, the architect had a late-model lightning rod, which he’d intended for the castle of Baron Ballesteros. It would be a simple matter, at the next severe electrical storm, to connect Jizme to the conducting wire of the apparatus and let her be electrocuted by the clouds. Now, since inclement weather was a rare occurrence in Ejur, it was not unlikely that some unforeseen event might deliver the poor unfortunate before the next bolt of lightning struck.

The industrious Nair’s life would be spared because of the snares he constructed and their usefulness in killing mosquitoes. But, for the author of the illuminated love note addressed to Jizme, simple imprisonment without torture apparently constituted too gentle a punishment. Talou wanted to build at the edge of Trophy Square a kind of pedestal to which they’d attach the snare Seil-kor had set one certain evening. Condemned to perpetual immobility and barely allowed room to stretch out for sleep, Nair, his foot collared by the noose that had already proven fatal to him once before, would labor without respite to fashion his delicate traps. To add emotional torment to the exasperating physical constraint, the bowler hat, suede glove, and illustrated letter, the true instruments of his ridiculous misadventure, would be placed forever within his sight.

To round out the roster of those attending the coronation, Talou demanded that a prison be built, from which the convicts, the living proof of his absolute power, might witness his triumph.

After delivering this sinister news, Sirdah related a happier event scheduled for the day of the gala. This was her own cure by the sorcerer Bashkou, who was now under Talou’s authority. In his impatience, the emperor had wanted to bring his daughter to the skillful healer immediately following the Battle of the Tez. But Sirdah had refused to regain her sight on a day stained by so much bloodshed. She preferred to keep this additional joy for the coronation day, already blessed by her father’s dazzling glorification.

A few words concerning the Montalescots concluded Sirdah’s mandate.

In the emperor’s eyes, Louise deserved the supreme punishment merely because of her amorous liaison with his mortal enemy, every trace of whom had to be eradicated. Talou went so far as to include the inoffensive Norbert in the hatred inspired by everything that, directly or indirectly, had enjoyed Yaour’s favor. But Sirdah had adroitly piqued her father’s curiosity by describing the great discovery that haunted the young woman; eager to see the planned apparatus function, Talou had decided to suspend judgment of the student, who remained free to pursue her labors.

A week was all Chènevillot needed to complete his new projects.

At the north of Trophy Square rose a small altar with several steps preceding it; opposite, on the south side, stretched a prison intended for the convicts and, not far from the Incomparables’ theater, rose a wooden pedestal, furnished with all the requisite accessories, on which Nair was immediately placed.

Especially taken with the idea of having Jizme die by celestial fire, Talou had fully approved Chènevillot’s plan. Learning the nature of the execution awaiting her, the unfortunate had obtained two supreme favors from the emperor: to die on the decorated white mattress that her lover had once given her, and to wear around her neck, at the fatal instant, a chart showing three lunar phases; a remnant of the days when she held her dazzling receptions, it would relieve her hour of distress with memories of her once-omnipotent splendor.

Chènevillot lined the mattress in question with an electrocution device that lightning alone would activate.

T
HE MONTALESCOTS HAD SOON
grown accustomed to their new residence. Louise delved passionately into her amazing discovery, while curious Norbert explored the Behuliphruen or the right bank of the Tez.

The ever faithful pet magpie won everyone’s admiration through its marvelous affection and intelligence; the bird, making new progress every day, reliably performed its mistress’s most varied commands.

One day, walking along the Tez, Norbert was attracted by the extreme malleability of a vaguely damp, yellowish earth, of which he promptly gathered a supply. The young man could from then on occupy his time modeling, with his usual facility, delightfully fashioned statuettes, which once dried in the sun acquired the look and consistency of terracotta. Talou, clearly intrigued by these artistic pursuits, seemed to be hatching some plan, which a chance occurrence soon brought to full maturity.

Since our arrival in Ejur, various animals, loaded onto the
Lynceus
to be slaughtered during the voyage, had contributed one by one to our board. Thanks to our parsimonious ship’s steward, who was exceedingly thrifty with the precious reserves, several calves still remained to share their companions’ fate. The provident cook finally started in on these survivors and one evening served us at dinner, alongside the appetizing slices of the first victim, a platter of finely seasoned calves’ lungs. Talou, who by instinctive curiosity had always been partial to our European fare, carefully tasted this dish, whose provenance and appearance when uncooked he immediately wanted to know.

The next day, a sad and anxious Sirdah came to see us on her father’s behalf, bearing his laborious directives that she annotated with numerous personal commentaries.

In her opinion, Talou loathed Louise, whose image was still linked in his mind with that of King Yaour. Brother and sister had been mixed up in the same fierce dislike, and the emperor offered them a double exeat only on condition that they perform impossible marvels, whose every detail he had meticulously elaborated in advance with cruel and malicious refinement.

Among the crates and bundles smashed open during the wreck of the
Lynceus
was a huge shipment of toys addressed to a dealer in Buenos Aires. Talou had ordered a demonstration of all these items, which were new to him, and took particular interest in the wind-up toys, whose key he turned himself. He had been especially delighted by a certain railroad that, due to its complex network of easily detachable tracks, rolled with remarkable ease. It was partly this amusing invention that engendered the plan Sirdah had come to detail. Inspired by his last dinner, Talou demanded that poor Norbert create a life-sized statue, fascinating to look at and light enough to roll over two tracks made of that same raw, inconsistent matter the steward had prepared for us the night before, without damaging them in the slightest. In addition, without this time setting any weight requirements, the emperor demanded three articulated sculptures, whose mechanism only the trained magpie would activate, with its beak or claws.

If these conditions were fulfilled—in addition to a successful demonstration of the device Louise was working to complete—the siblings would win their freedom and could join our detachment when we left for Porto Novo.

Despite the harshness of this ultimatum, Louise, rather than giving in to despair, understood that her duty was to encourage and guide Norbert.

The first thing was to find a material light, pliable, and resistant enough to be used to erect an almost weightless statue. We rummaged haphazardly through the luggage taken from the ship, and Louise suddenly let out a cry of joy on discovering several large parcels stuffed with uniformly black whalebone corset stays. Reading the labels, we saw that the shipment had been sent by a liquidation firm, which had probably sold off part of its excess inventory at a discount to some American manufacturer.

The stakes being too important to stand on ceremony, Louise made away with the merchandise, prepared to reimburse the addressee later on if need be.

To choose the fascinating subject the emperor demanded, the young woman had only to search her memory, copiously enriched by her countless readings. She recalled an anecdote related by Thucydides in his
History of the Peloponnesian War
, in a brief preamble in which the illustrious chronicler seeks to compare the Athenian character with the Spartan mentality.

Here is the substance of the classical tale translated by so many generations of schoolboys:

A rich Lacedemonian named Ktenas had in his service a large number of helots.

Instead of despising these slaves, whom his compatriots considered mere beasts of burden, Ktenas wanted to raise their moral and intellectual level by educating them. His noble, humanitarian goal was to make them his equals, and in order to force the laziest among them to study he resorted to severe punishments, not hesitating at times to use his power over life and death.

Without a doubt, the most recalcitrant of the group was a certain Saridakis, who, as ungifted as he was apathetic, shamelessly let himself be overtaken by all his comrades.

Despite the harshest reprimands, Saridakis made no progress, vainly devoting hours on end to the simple conjugation of auxiliary verbs.

Ktenas saw in this manifestation of utter inability the chance to strike fear into the minds of his pupils.

He gave Saridakis three days to memorize once and for all the verb e?µ?. After that, the helot would recite his lesson before all his fellow students and in front of Ktenas, whose hand, clutching a stiletto, would run through the laggard’s heart at the first sign of error.

Knowing that the master meant what he said, Saridakis cudgeled his brains and made heroic efforts to prepare for the supreme test.

On the appointed day, Ktenas, assembling his slaves, placed himself near Saridakis, aiming the tip of his blade at the unfortunate’s chest. The scene was brief: the pupil made a stupid mistake in the dual of the aorist, and a muffled thud was suddenly heard in the midst of an anxious silence. The helot, pierced to the heart, spun a moment before falling dead at the feet of his inexorable judge.

Louise unhesitatingly adopted this stirring model. Aided by his sister’s directions, Norbert managed to erect a lightweight statue on wheels, using the flexible stays. The nails and tools he needed for the task were supplied by Chènevillot, who himself built a well-calibrated bascule, made to receive the delicate and fragile train tracks at the last minute. To complete the work, so full of impressive vigor, Louise traced in white letters on the black plinth a large explanatory title, preceding the famous dual conjugation on the helot’s dying lips.

The emperor’s other order, effigies with moving parts, demanded three new subjects.

Louise was an enthusiastic admirer of Kant, portraits of whom vividly crowded her mind. Under her supervision, Norbert executed a bust of the famous philosopher, carefully hollowing out the inside of the block to leave only a wafer-thin layer of clay at the top of the skull. Chènevillot fitted the cranial cavity with a system of powerful reflector lamps, whose brightness was meant to symbolize the ingenious flames of some luminous thought.

Next, Louise took inspiration from an old Breton legend that touchingly related the heroic and celebrated subterfuge of the nun Perpetua, who preferred to risk her own life rather than betray two fugitives hiding in her convent to the thugs pursuing them.

This time it was an entire group of figures that Norbert had to model with skill and patience.

Finally, the young man, his sister’s docile instrument, portrayed the regent bowing before Louis XV; Louise, a student of history, liked the paradox contained in this humble sign of respect shown to a child by the most powerful man in the kingdom.

Each sculpture was provided with a very simple mechanism, specially adapted to the beak or claws of the magpie, whose training demanded far more effort than they ever would have expected.

Indeed, this new task was much more complex than the insignificant tours de force the bird had performed up until then. Its movements had to be executed in the correct order without guidance or prompting, and it was hard for the creature to retain such a long series of varied and precise instructions. Norbert helped his sister with the laborious instruction, which they had to get just right.

Meanwhile, Louise actively pursued her chemical endeavors, whose final adjustments demanded a workplace built with very particular lighting conditions in mind.

At her request, Chènevillot constructed a kind of very narrow cabin, whose walls, prudently devoid of openings, would let no sunshine through.

Only a very attenuated yellowish light was to be allowed into the confines of the laboratory; but a tinted window, even with the densest coating, would surely have produced disastrous glimmers on the strange photosensitive plate Louise was preparing.

The solution to the problem was found by Juillard, who had sat in on Louise’s conversations with the architect.

The scholar’s crate of books contained a precious copy of
The Fair Maid of Perth
, from the first edition of the celebrated work. The pages, more than a century old, were completely yellowed and could serve to filter and muffle the blinding brightness of the African sun.

Despite the incalculable price of this extremely rare item, Juillard unhesitatingly offered it to the student, who, finding it perfectly suited to her designs, thanked the kind donor warmly.

Chènevillot trimmed the pages into tiles, which, laid down in multiple layers and held in place by a fine framework, composed the top of the cabin. A skylight cut in the middle of this light roofing allowed the prisoner to emerge once in a while for some fresh air, after having scrupulously covered her various utensils and ingredients. Prudence winning out over comfort in such a serious matter, it was through this one opening, the sole egress by design, that Louise would enter and exit, using two small folding ladders with flat steps that the architect fashioned for this purpose. The slightest infiltration of light could in fact compromise the success of the entire project, and a roof skylight was more likely than any side door to form a hermetic seal, aided by its own weight.

The cabin stood on Trophy Square, not far from the Stock Exchange, from which Norbert’s precisely aligned statues separated it. Before installing the roof, Chènevillot had arranged the interior, which contained one of the folding ladders, a portable chair, and a worktable laden with the equipment necessary for the marvelous discovery.

From then on, Louise spent the better part of her days shut up in the laboratory, among her concoctions, vials, and plants; she used the rest of her time to finish training the magpie, which faithfully kept her company inside the fragile hideaway.

When people asked the young woman about the success of her chemical mixtures, she seemed cheerful and optimistic.