Saturn Over the Water (33 page)

Read Saturn Over the Water Online

Authors: J. B. Priestley,J.B. Priestley

BOOK: Saturn Over the Water
6.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘That’ll be the end of Osparas, the end of these few links in the chain that you’ve known.’ Dailey’s voice sounded different, clearer, not so hoarse and whisky-sodden.

‘I’m sorry, Mr Dailey,’ Rosalia said shakily. ‘I didn’t believe in you. I was stupid, I’m sorry. Because of course you must have known what I was feeling. Please – is it true – I must know – that these Saturn people, even my grandfather, want a war to happen – are trying to make it happen?’

‘It is true.’ And now his voice was so different I had to look at him. Everything that had been there before, that belonged to Pat Dailey of Surfers’ Paradise, the drunken old fraud, was still there – the tangled dirty beard, the creased boozer’s face, the watery eyes, hadn’t gone – but now I knew they were something put on like an actor’s make-up, and that sitting here with us was somebody different from anybody I’d ever known,
another kind of
man
.

‘Watch now,’ he said. ‘But remember this is not like the end of Osparas. It is what could and may happen, not yet what will happen. So it is a vision of a vision – out of any order of time yet – among possibilities. But it is what they would like to bring about. Watch now.’

There was an even longer interval of staring at blackness, and the images when they did come were jerky, confused and shadowy, but even so I could see great cities in ruins, landscapes of utter desolation, the dead in rotting heaps –

‘No, no, no.’ Rosalia jumped up and turned her face away from the dark curtains. I went across to her, for Dailey had put her on the other side of him, and she rested against me, trembling. ‘How could they be so wicked?’ she was saying. ‘How could they?’

‘They are wrong,’ said the man I must call Dailey, having no other name for him. ‘But remember, it’s not they who’ve built up this mountain of folly. Industrial man seems bent on self-destruction. They are only hurrying him on in the direction he wishes to go.’

‘I’m all right now,’ said Rosalia, and I went back to my chair. As Dailey seemed to be waiting for another question, I said to him: ‘Does
Saturn over the Water
really mean something – or is it just a badge they designed for themselves?’

‘It’s not possible even to design a badge without some meaning coming through,’ said Dailey. Though his whole manner of talking was very different now, he wasn’t solemn, portentous, prophetic. He seemed almost casual in his manner, but everything he said appeared to have a great depth of personality and experience behind it. ‘As for
Saturn over the Water
, it wouldn’t be easy to compress more meaning into four words – would it, Mitchell?’

Mitchell, who was sitting somewhere on the other side of Rosalia, said there mightn’t be time for even the briefest sketch of what it meant.

Dailey laughed. ‘He’s warning me to keep it short. So I will. First then –
the Water
. This is the sign of Aquarius. Now in the Zodiacal or Great Year, which lasts about
26
,
000
of our years, because of the precession of the equinoxes the earth comes under the influence of each of the signs of the Zodiac. Each age lasts about two thousand years. And the signs are in a reverse order. We are moving now, for we’re at the end of an age, from Pisces to Aquarius, from the Fish to the Water. A fish, you may or may not know, was in the early times of this age the symbol of Christ. So this age that’s ending has been that of Christ. You can also say that the last third of it especially has shown a great development of man’s conscious mind, a sharpening of consciousness, you could call it, and at the same time a worse and worse relation to the unconscious, giving men deep emotional drives they’re unable to control. Those images I was able to project for you – of total ruinous war – showed you what can happen when everybody says one thing and does the opposite. But then we’ve come to the end of one age and haven’t yet entered another. Have you followed me so far, young woman?’

‘Yes – except about equinoxes and things,’ said Rosalia eagerly. ‘Do go on. Where does Saturn come in? Somebody like Steglitz doesn’t come from there, does he? Tim says not.’

‘Tim’s right. He comes from a doctorate in sociology at the University of Leipzig. Now just forget persons, if you can, for a minute or two. The sign of Aquarius has two ruling planets – Saturn and Uranus. This doesn’t mean we’re talking about two globes of gas but about two different kinds of influences. This new age might be either Saturnian or Uranian – ’

‘And you’re a Uranian,’ cried Rosalia, ‘whatever that means.’

‘I am, but you won’t know what anything means if you don’t keep quiet, girl. Saturn represents age, weight, authority, a cold exercise of power. So
Saturn over the Water
means that the world begins again – only in the Southern Hemisphere at first, the Northern being uninhabitable mostly – under the absolute rule of a few, the masters of millions of slaves. And they announce how they will create a rigid system. It’s all there in
Saturn over the Water
. For water is also an ancient symbol of the unconscious. And if Saturn is
over
the water, then the masters of this system will not only control men’s conscious minds but also their unconscious. To a limited extent they’re beginning to do it already – as Steglitz could tell you – by increasing the hidden drives towards war. So Saturn, you might say, is already rising above the water. You’re still with me, young man?’

‘I think so,’ I said. ‘But if that’s Saturn, then what about Uranus? What kind of influences does that represent? Would I prefer them – or are they just as bad?’

‘Not if you’re an artist, they aren’t. Uranus, the planet, was found just before the young revolutionaries began talking about liberty, equality and fraternity. And that’s no coincidence. But then you have to wear blinkers to find yourself in a world of coincidences. Now Uranus represents the feminine principle just as surely as Saturn represents the masculine. Its influences work through the sympathetic imagination. Most decent women and all true artists and all the people described by Saturnians as idle dreamers and crackpots – ’ He broke off, then spoke to Mitchell. ‘They’re here. I’d taken my attention off them. Careless of me. But we’ll do what we can.’

Mitchell went and switched on more light. Rosalia and I looked inquiringly at each other but didn’t say anything. Dailey shuffled over to a table and poured out some whisky. He was now exactly as he’d been earlier, the boozy bleary-eyed old charlatan of the arcade and nothing more. ‘Now ye’ll leave this entirely to me, the pair of ye,’ he wheezed. ‘Don’t forget now.’

There was silence for a minute or two and then it was broken by the sound of at least two cars arriving noisily. I heard no ringing or knocking, only some banging about and loud commanding voices. Then our door was flung open, and they came in – Major Jorvis, tremendous in one of those mackintoshes that almost clash like armour; Lord Randlong, bulky and smiling in a raglan tweed overcoat; Steglitz, his egg face wearing two or three strips of sticking-plaster, pale and glittering with malicious triumph.

‘You’re all under arrest,’ said Major Jorvis.

Dailey drank some whisky, then stared at Jorvis above the top of his glass. ‘Ye’re under some misapprehension, Major Jorvis.’

‘You know my name, do you?’ said Jorvis sharply.

‘I do, I do, Major,’ said Dailey in a wheedling tone. ‘Maybe you and your friends would like a drink of whisky, after your cold long drive – ’

‘Certainly not. And if you know my name, then you ought to know I didn’t bring two police cars out here – and I’ve six good men with me – to drink whisky with you people. I’m placing all four of you under arrest.’

‘I don’t think y’are, Major Jorvis.’

And then I saw the other Dailey, the very different man who’d been answering our questions, come through again, like the sun through a cloud. Strange power was there, blazing in his eyes as he stared defiantly.

I looked at Jorvis to see what possible resistance the blustering empty fool could make to such a show of power, so fierce a will. But then I saw, I knew without doubt,
this wasn

t Major Jorvis
. Somebody else had taken over, to oppose one show of power with another, one fierce high will with another that was its equal. Nothing more was said; the conflict had passed beyond words. Nobody moved for at least a minute. It was as if two swords, in the hands of masters, were crossed and locked, and nothing could move except the quivering light at their points. For my part I couldn’t have spoken or even stirred, I felt emptied of will. I couldn’t have even wished that whoever was staring now through Jorvis’s eyes would soon be overcome.

Then Mitchell moved. He stood by Dailey’s side, and I saw his long, lazily humorous face begin to change, to sharpen, to focus itself, to reveal purpose and power. His eyes were widely-opened now, luminous, compelling. Nobody spoke, nobody stirred. The room was hardly there, just three invisible swords and a trance.

Randlong broke the spell. He groaned, the colour draining out of his face. ‘I’m not well,’ he muttered, groping for a chair. ‘Warned you, Steglitz – shouldn’t have let you bring me up here – get me a doctor.’

But Steglitz was now claiming Jorvis’s attention. ‘This is how it is,’ he shouted angrily. ‘Entirely mismanaged. No insight –
no finesse
– no subtlety. Cars filled with policemen – imbeciles. This is the last time, Major Jorvis, the very last time. Now we must go above your head in Security. This is how it is. My friend, Lord Randlong – ’

His friend, Lord Randlong, however, was moaning for a doctor from the depths of the armchair into which he’d collapsed. Ignoring Steglitz, Major Jorvis, his bumbling old self again, after taking a look at Randlong, went to the door to ask for help in getting him out. I looked at Dailey and Mitchell. Dailey was once again the reprobate old fortune-teller, helping himself to whisky. Mitchell, looking exactly as I’d seen him the first time we met, was lighting one of the cheroots he liked to smoke. Randlong was carried out, and Steglitz, still complaining, went waddling out too, without a glance at us. But Dailey, who’d said something I couldn’t catch to Rosalia, stopped Major Jorvis from following them.

‘Major Jorvis now,’ he said. ‘Before ye go, here’s Miss Arnaldos would like a quick word with ye.’

Rosalia went towards him. ‘Major Jorvis, there are some lawyers in Sydney who are doing some work for me. I talked to them the day before yesterday. You know them. They know you, and don’t like you. Now I could sue Steglitz tomorrow for keeping me in a locked room. And if there’s any more from you about arresting anybody here, I’ll turn those lawyers on to you – ’

‘Oh – ye wouldn’t do that to poor Major Jorvis,’ said Dailey. ‘He’s only trying to do his duty – ’

‘I’ll sue him in every court in Australia,’ said Rosalia, well into the part, ‘if it costs me a million dollars.’

‘Go on now, Major Jorvis,’ said Dailey. ‘Get your friend, Lord Randlong, to a doctor as soon as ye can. Meanwhile, I’ll talk her out of it – she’ll not harm a hair of your head – I’ll talk her out of it. Go on, Major Jorvis. Good night to ye – an’ drive easy down the mountain road.’

If Jorvis had anything to say, he didn’t say it. Two or three minutes later, we could hear the cars moving off. Rosalia and I were talking to each other by that time, but keeping our voices low, so I overheard Dailey tell Mitchell that it had been a close thing that time and that he himself had been over-confident and careless, an old fault of his.

‘I did what you told me to do,’ Rosalia began, to Dailey.

‘Ye did, m’dear. A nice little performance. Ye’ll have no more trouble from him – ’

‘You mean the real one,’ said Rosalia. ‘Not that other one who was suddenly there – it was terrifying – ’ She stopped, and looked from Dailey to Mitchell, but they said nothing. ‘Can’t you tell us what that was about? And stop pretending to be a drunken old Irishman. Look – I’ll turn most of the lights off again, if that’ll help.’ She came back sounding quite maternal. ‘There – it’s just as it was before. Now then.’

‘Wait a moment now,’ said Dailey. ‘Keep still and be quiet. Don’t ask questions. I’m tired. So I’ll do this my own way.’ He was silent for a little while. This time I didn’t look at him. ‘The world in this coming age of Aquarius,’ he began slowly and very quietly, ‘may come under the influence of Saturn or Uranus. If one, then not the other. Here there’s a difference, a conflict, between what we’ll call thrones, principalities, powers, dominions, between spirits and disembodied intelligences, between men – for they’re still men – invisible and free of time, men visible and in time. Masters and servants, in sphere within sphere, level below level, give and take commands. One great design clashes with the other. What is invisible and bodiless moves the visible and embodied like a piece on a chessboard. But the game is in five dimensions. Very complicated, but then it’s a very complicated universe we’re in – even this little corner of it. Mitchell, I’m tired – I needn’t tell you why – perhaps you could tell these children anything else they ought to know.’

‘I can’t project for them,’ said Mitchell. ‘And there was something you wanted to show them, remember.’

‘The Saturnian Chain, yes,’ said Dailey. ‘You’ve helped us to destroy a few links in it. But now see how much is left. You’ll have to be patient. Keep still, keep quiet – look into the dark there – watch now.’

As before I felt as if I was drifting away into sleep and yet kept alert in the centre of this drift and dreaminess. At last, after what seemed a long time, though it can have been only a few minutes, a great globe gradually took shape and colour in the darkness. It turned slowly, so many delicate blues and greens and browns all faintly luminous, our own beautiful earth. Then across the turning continents, now easily recognised, went continuous flashes of red fire linking places where it seemed to burn white-hot or pulsate in crimson and orange. I had time to notice one line streaking down from the United States to Brazil and Argentina, another running from Central Europe through Egypt to East Africa, another through Central Africa, another from England and France down through West Africa towards the Cape.

‘Saturn over the Water,’ said Dailey very quietly. ‘There you have the lines, the pattern, the size of it.’ As he spoke the image of the globe began to fade. ‘With men of power and influence working for it, and behind them, their masters, thrones and dominions, forces and intelligences, beyond your imagination or scope of belief. But so have we, as you might be ready to understand by this time.’ As he struggled out of his chair, and we got up too, he became old Pat Dailey of the resort arcade again. ‘I’m old and tired and go to me bed now. Me friend Mitchell will show ye to yours – for it’s too late for ye to go tonight – an’ while he’s doing that he’ll give ye a bit of a small message I have for ye. Now then, young people’ – he had one hand on Rosalia’s shoulder now, the other on mine, and he was peering and grinning at us and giving us more than a whiff of whisky and musty careless old age – ‘I’m saying goodbye to ye – for ye’ll be down the mountain in the morning before I’m out of me bed. Now d’ye think ye’ll recognise me next time we meet? Ye do? I wonder, I wonder, I wonder.’ And he shuffled away.

We watched him go, not saying anything for some moments after he’d gone. Rosalia, as I found out afterwards, felt as I did, that somebody enormous and quite incomprehensible to us had just walked out of the room, somebody who, so to speak, jiggled this Pat Dailey character on the end of a finger at us, to amuse himself or for reasons we couldn’t understand. I’ve simply not been able to do him justice. I don’t think I’ve been able even to suggest the impression he made on us, the way he made us feel towards the end that the whole of Pat Dailey was just a small part of him deliberately performing, often overdoing it. But not overdoing it just for fun, we decided afterwards, but to make us feel that what we took to be the whole of life was only a thin section of it, that even here, in this so-called real life, there’s a charade element, and that behind our reality there’s another deeper reality and behind that another and another and another.

Other books

The Marriage Wager by Candace Camp
The Serpent Mage by Greg Bear
It Runs in the Family by Frida Berrigan
Death is Semisweet by Lou Jane Temple
The Moon's Shadow by Catherine Asaro
Enthusiasm by Polly Shulman
Marking Time by Marie Force