Ch.139Act 1: Ch.9 – The King Sleeps in Carcosa (8)

The sky, having just stopped raining, growls as it hunches over. People walk about aimlessly with umbrellas tucked under their arms. In this street, only Emma and I are unable to shield ourselves from the rain. Yet I lacked the courage to scoff “That’s absurd,” and wasn’t cynical enough to leave Emma behind and walk away.

“How do you know?”

My first reaction was denial.

I couldn’t accept it. You’re wrong. Show me proof. What do you know… Crayfield had warned about being wary of “those beings above.” I had seen some of them, knew their powers, and understood what their followers were capable of.

And now, she claims I’ve caught their attention.

“I can smell it.”

There was no sympathy in her eyes or tone. Her voice was as calm as a doctor delivering a diagnosis. This composure seemed to be a genetic trait of the Scully family.

“The smell of blood-soaked earth. Burnt wood. The scent of fruit cooked in smoke and flames. It’s not an earthly smell. It’s the smell of the cosmos. If a mortal walked through the universe naked and survived, there’s only one explanation.”

I sniffed the air. I couldn’t detect anything beyond the distinctive acrid smell of a fire scene.

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Do you know the best way to teach a child about sweetness? Rather than adding a hundred explanations, just put half a teaspoon of sugar or a piece of candy in their mouth. I admit I’m not a good teacher, but even Socrates couldn’t teach sensory perception. So, tell me. When did it start?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Pinching the back of your hand. When did it start?”

I looked down at my hand. Without realizing it, I had been pinching the back of my left hand. Emma crossed her legs. Her enamel shoes dangled leisurely.

“Don’t give me excuses like ‘my hand was itchy.’ You’re falling apart. The body is a vessel for the mind; when the body breaks, the mind spills out.”

I ran my hand across my chest.

“No,” Emma shook her head. “It’s not because of ‘that thing’ trying to devour your soul. It’s different from that.”

“Since when did you care so much about me?”

“Ah, right.” She seemed to have not heard me at all. “Let’s think about mosquitoes.”

“Mosquitoes?”

“Between those tiny eyes sits a brain no bigger than a speck of dust. With such a small head, it probably doesn’t realize how large the creature is that it’s sticking its proboscis into. Would a farmer plowing a field imagine the vastness of the Earth? Could someone drilling pipes into the ground for oil hear the Earth’s pain?

From a mosquito’s perspective, what does an approaching flyswatter or hand mean? It’s swift, terrible, and an unexplainable death. It was just doing what all the others do, but it gets squashed without explanation, reason, or press conference. And then, poof. Gone.

The ‘attention’ you’re receiving is that kind of attention. The irritation, malice, and disgust of someone determined to catch the mosquito that bothered them all night. What did you do? What was so important that you had to smear blood on this book?”

I could see a patrol car approaching from across the bridge. Emma Scully stood up and embraced me. To anyone watching from the patrol car on the road, we must have looked like passionate lovers. As soon as the car passed, Emma immediately pulled away.

I stood up. “Let’s go.”

“Where to?”

“To buy clothes first.”

* * * * *

July 12, 1929. 7:22 PM

Western Reservoir

Arkham

After buying new clothes and having dinner, we rented a car. It was in good condition for a rental.

“Aren’t you spending too much money?”

“There’s a check waiting at 22 Gord Street, 2nd floor, on Pollard Island. It’s listed as Crayfield’s office, so Crayfield will cover it.”

“How thoughtful of him.”

Emma didn’t ask anything more. On the way to the reservoir, I explained that I had been asked to find the missing Professor Armitage and had come here looking for him. I also told her about the stories connected to the reservoir, but I didn’t mention the… unpleasant experience I had witnessed. Emma seemed quite disappointed about that.

“I understand why you came here, but you’re not telling me what happened?”

“It’s your turn now.”

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing here? How did you know I was there, why did you disguise yourself as Catherine Scully to get me out, and now you’re following me all the way here.”

Emma’s lively laughter rang out.

“You. You didn’t seem like it, but you’re quite the narcissist, aren’t you?”

“What?”

Emma smiled slyly as she twisted her long hair slightly.

“As you already know, I’m a priestess. A priestess isn’t simply a magician. I’m more like an interpreter of the words between people and the world. And one essential task is observing the stars. How much do you know about the Pleiades?”

“Not much.”

“It’s a star cluster in Taurus. Since Homer recorded it, it has appeared in countless works and cultures. It became a subject of scientific research, material for writers, and it’s even mentioned in the Bible.”

“And?”

“The reason there are so many records about the Pleiades is because of its deep connection to agriculture. In the 9th century BC, the Greek poet Hesiod said in his poem ‘Works and Days’ that when the daughters of Atlas, the Pleiades, rise (in the night sky), begin the harvest, and when they begin to set, start plowing.

In the Northern Hemisphere, when the Pleiades are not visible all night but rise with the morning sun, it’s time to sow seeds. Conversely, when they’re visible all night but disappear when the moon sets, it’s harvest time. It was essentially an agricultural calendar.”

I silently pressed the pedal. Emma was looking up at the night sky through the windshield. Her eyes were filled with worry.

“The Pleiades has a star that follows it. A star as bright as the sun. Its name is Aldebaran, meaning ‘the follower.’ Of course, they say Aldebaran is incomparably far from the Pleiades. Up to this point, there’s no problem, but…”

“But?”

“A jester lives on Aldebaran.” Emma sighed.

“The jester is… a curious being. Alone, it can do nothing and is useless, but it always manages to insert itself into any group. Everyone loves and likes the jester, yet they mock, beat, and persecute it.

According to some traditions, Aldebaran envies and is jealous of the Pleiades, so it follows behind them. Pretending to be part of their company.

It’s like in Aesop’s fable, right? The story of the mouse on the lion’s head. All creatures bow to the lion, but the mouse on the lion’s head mistakenly thinks it’s being honored.”

Like Drugstore. Thinking about him made me quite uncomfortable. A guy who climbs onto the shoulders of masters, urinates, and then shouts, ‘I did this!’

“But Aldebaran has changed direction.”

“What?”

“When does a jester leave the road? When does it leave those it has been following and go its own way? When does it throw away the praise it cherishes like life itself and depart?”

Though I had never thought about this question before, the answer sprang from *within you*.

“When there’s a place that needs it. When there’s a place where it can gain more glory… when it has found a new follower.”

“You know well.”

I bit my lower lip. I didn’t know. I had never possessed such knowledge. The words that left my mouth were not my thoughts.

I pinched the back of my hand again. I know it’s dangerous while driving. But I couldn’t help it. And when I realized Emma was watching me, I briefly pulled the car over to the shoulder. My hands were trembling uncontrollably.

Emma closed her eyes. She sang a song full of sighs and sobs that seemed both broken and continuous. It quickened with the trembling of my hand and slowed with my breathing. As if by magic, the trembling of my hands and my rapid breathing gradually calmed.

Why is it so comforting, to the point of vulnerability, when someone understands you? Emma wrapped her hand around my right hand.

“Something on Earth has been pulling Aldebaran. A very powerful, specific, and seductive signal. Enough to make the jester willingly approach, abandoning its original master. Aldebaran is approaching rapidly, as if possessed. It won’t stop, if only because of inertia. There’s only one theory that can explain this.”

“What is it?”

“There’s a city of jesters on Aldebaran. And in that city, a king sleeps. The King of Jesters. The director of all stages. The director has found a theater to raise his curtain.”

A silver-masked figure appeared in front of the headlights.

I grabbed the steering wheel convulsively. Emma’s words gradually became strange, stretched, and distorted. I tried to pinch the back of my left hand again, but Emma’s scaly hand gripped mine painfully tight.

I looked at Emma. Her pupils were split vertically. Between her pale lips, a forked snake tongue flickered. Hissing, it whispered to me.

“The plays he takes on are not just one. The roles he plays are not just one. Even the stars and sands of the world cannot remember all the roles he has played. That’s why he can’t be called anything specific. Any name could be calling him. No name refers only to him. Because he has gone through all roles.”

In the passenger seat, the snake that has possessed Emma whispers. My right hand is held by a scaly hand. In front of the headlights, the silver-masked figure looks around searching for something. Centipedes, scorpions, and cockroaches flow out from under its yellow cloak.

Armitage!

Armitage!

Armitage!

Birds take flight. They’re nightjars. Like in those rumors about Glasgow thugs, nightjars with split mouths impiously cover the sky. The hissing, blood-chilling snake sound… in my right ear…

“But I dare say. In Carcosa, where the King of Jesters sleeps, where ten thousand performances are held every second, yet not a single play is performed for eons of time, the King in Yellow waits for his role…”

The silver mask turned toward us. Swaying and flailing, it approaches us. I now understand why the eye holes aren’t visible. Because pus and blood are oozing out! How could it see with eyes that have rotted and collapsed!

“The one with too many names.

The one who has gone through too many roles.

The jester who has lost himself.

The name of the one who wanders the stars in search of his forgotten name is…”

I tried to cover the snake’s mouth. This is cunning. It speaks as if it were the truth.

But I will not eat the forbidden fruit. I will not cross the line by falling for the snake’s temptation!

I grab the snake’s neck with my left hand. The snake’s eyes bulge as it reveals sharp fangs.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The car shakes. The thing outside is knocking on the door.

Crack! Crack! With each knock, insect fluid from its burst body stains the car.

The glass window and metal door melt as if acid has been sprayed on them!

The silver mask pushes its head in! Shaking its head tremtremtremtremtremtremtremtremtremtremtremtremtremtremtremtremtremtremtremtremtremtremtremtremtremtrembling, it breaks through the window and makes eye eye eye eye eye eye eye contact contact contact contact with me

Hastur

Gone.

All I hear is silence. The car is completely undamaged. The window is intact.

I removed my hands from Emma’s neck. Emma’s eyes are still beautiful, and there’s no sign of scales.

There were clear marks from my hands on her neck.

She was crying.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… My God… What… What have I done…”

What should I do

What should I do

“Poor soul…”

Emma embraced me.