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"You're right," he said. "And you're also very wrong.""I don't want to see Hell!" I said suddenly. I drew myself up. Irecoiled. I looked around us. This was a wild garden, this was mySavage Garden, of thorny vines and hunkering trees, of wild grass,and orchids clinging to the mossy knuckles of branches, of birdsstreaking high above through webs of leaves. "I don't want to seeHell!" I cried. "I don't want to, I don't! .. ."Memnoch didn't answer. He seemed to be considering things.
And then he said, "Do you want to know the why of all of it, or not?
I was so sure you would want to know, you of all creatures. I thoughtyou would want every little bit of information!""I do!" I cried. "Of course I want to know," I said. "But I ... Idon't think I can.""I can tell you as much as I know," he said gently, with a littleshrug of his powerful shoulders.
His hair was smoother and stronger than human hair, the strandswere perhaps thicker, and certainly more incandescent. I could seethe roots of his hair at the top of his smooth forehead. His hair wastumbling soundlessly into some sort of order, or just becoming lessdisheveled. The flesh of his face was equally smooth and apparentlypliant all over, the long, well-formed nose, the full and broad mouth,the firm line of the jaw.
I realized his wings were still there, but they had become almostimpossible to see. The pattern of the feathers, layer after layer offeathers, was visible, but only if I squinted my eyes and tried to makeout the details against something dark behind him, like the bark ofthe tree.
"I can't think," I said. "I see what you think of me, you thinkyou've chosen a coward! You think you've made a terrible mistake.
But I tell you, I can't reason. I... I saw Him. He said, 'You wouldn'tbe my adversary!' You're asking me to do it! You took me to Him andaway from Him.""As He Himself has allowed!" Memnoch said with a little rise tohis eyebrows.
"Is that so?""Of course!" he answered.
"Then why did He plead with me! Why did He look that way!""Because He was God Incarnate, and God Incarnate suffers andfeels things with His human form, and so He gave you that much ofHimself, that's all! Suffering! Ah, suffering!"He looked to heaven and shook his head. He frowned a little,thoughtfully. His face in this form could not appear wrathful ortwisted with any ugly emotion. Blake had seen into Heaven.
"But it was God," I said.
He nodded, with his head to the side. "Ah, yes," he said wearily,"the Living Lord."He looked off into the trees. He didn't seem angry or impatient oreven weary. Again, I didn't know if he could. I realized he waslistening to sounds in the soft garden, and I could hear them too.
I could smell things梐nimals, insects, the heady perfume ofjungle flowers, those overheated, mutated blooms that a rain forest cannourish either in the depths or in its leafy heights. I caught the scentof humans suddenly!
There were people in this forest. We were in an actual place.
"There are others here," I said.
"Yes," he said. And now he smiled at me very tenderly. "You arenot a coward. Shall I tell you everything, or simply let you go? Youknow now more than millions ever glimpse in their lifetimes. Youdon't know what to do with that knowledge, or how to go on existing,or being what you are . . . but you have had your glimpse of Heaven.
Shall I let you go? Or don't you want to know why I need you sobadly?""Yes, I do want to know," I said. "But above all, more than anythingelse, I want to know how you and I can stand there side by side,adversaries, and how you can look as you look and be the Devil, andhow . . . and how ..." I laughed. ". . . and how I can look like I lookand be the Devil I've been! That's what I want to know. I have neverin my whole existence seen the aesthetic laws of the world broken.
Beauty, rhythm, symmetry, those are the only laws I've everwitnessed that seemed natural.
"And I've always called them the Savage Garden! Because theyseemed ruthless and indifferent to suffering梩o the beauty of thebutterfly snared in the spiderweb! To the wildebeast lying on theveldt with its heart still beating as the lions come to lap at the woundin its throat.""Yes, how well I understand and respect your philosophy," hesaid. "Your words are my words.""But I saw something more up there!" I said. "I saw Heaven. I sawthe perfected Garden that was no longer Savage. I saw it!" I began toweep again.
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