Sealed inside the coffin, all was darkness, warm and close, suffused with the musky perfume of her vast nakedness. For a few moments she held him in the encircling cradle of her giant hands, then lifted him first to her lips, now the size of a pair of pillows, and down through the blackness to lay him across the soft hills of her vast bosom. Pressing his palms to the satin flesh of the growing mound of her left breast, he was enveloped in its warm, milky scent. He rose and fell as she breathed, her softness caressing his skin and clothes.
He heard men shouting, far away, followed by the rattle of small arms fire. The coffin jolted and tipped, and he gripped a nipple for balance. As he lay sprawled in the darkness, he could feel the nipple growing between his hands and velvet skin pulling out from under him as the breast inexorably expanded.
There was more gunfire, like the distant crackle of lightning, followed a hollow echo as something thudded into the coffin, punching a disc of light out of the blackness far above.
The ground heaved suddenly—bounced up on the shuddering hill, he lost his grip on the now bucket-sized nipple and was sent tumbling down the spongy slope. After a whirl of soft skin and sweet, heady warmth, he came to rest on hard ground. Apart from the gentle swell of her breathing, all was now still; the coffin had stopped moving, laid to rest, he assumed, at the bottom of the waiting grave.
Loofah clambered to his feet and by the dim new light he surveyed the landscape of her body. He was now standing in the valley of her sternum, with the gently heaving hills of her breasts sweeping up either side to their now hidden peaks. At one end of the valley, the twin hills swept down to the narrow ridges of her collar bones, beyond which, at the far end of the white isthmus of her neck, her chin formed a peaked cliff. In the opposite direction lay the low ridge of her ribcage, rising and falling with her breathing, and beyond this the distant plain of her belly swept away into the darkness. Far away, the rucked folds of her gown were banked up against along the sides the landscape like distant clouds.
A far-off rumble rolled ominously through the heavy air, either thunder, or clods of damp earth hitting the lid far above. Loofah pondered his options: in the dim distance, the cliff of her chin looked rather forbidding, whereas the gentle curve of her belly formed easier terrain. With no clear objective in mind, it seemed sensible to pick the less demanding route.
The first part of his journey was problem-free, even pleasant—although the valley floor had a slight upward incline, the ground was firm and smooth, and the faint light was sufficient to illuminate his way. The night was warm and still, with the sweet heady smell of mid-summer in the turgid air. His progress was steady but unhurried, and for once he was enjoying a brief respite from the relentless nagging of the cares and fears that seemed to have taken up permanent residence inside his overcrowded skull.
Soon after he had left the shelter of the valley, however, more thunder rumbled, far away, and the moonlight was blocked out. After this Loofah was hardly able to make out the ground at his feet, let alone his route ahead, and so he drifted through the velvet darkness, trying to navigate as straight a path as he could. Distant lightning flickered, illuminating the masses of cloud banked up against the plateau, dark, pressing and ominous—this was followed another rumbling roll of thunder, closer now. Loofah shivered, and pressed on with a faint edge of urgency.
The storm, however, never came. The thunder rolled, but now echoing away into the far distance. Loofah slackened his pace. The air had become lighter and a faint breeze touched his cheeks. The last of the lightning was no more than a tiny spark against distant cloud banks. A few stars shone in a crack of clear sky overhead, a handful of industrial diamonds scattered on a velvet cloth.
When the moon eventually emerged from behind a retreating cloud, the landscape was thrown open by its silver light. He had reached the centre of the gently curving plateau, and was standing at the edge of a small hollow, into which he surely would have stumbled had the darkness persisted. Behind him, white in the night light, the two domed hills glowed eerily against the horizon, while ahead, where the plateau ended, the land split into two long ridges, which rose up like the silvered backs of a pair of whales surfacing out of the dark sea of the night. At the junction of the ridges was a thicket of scrub on a low mound, which seemed to be blocking the descent into the valley.
A fresh breeze touched the shining grass, sending tiny silver eddies swirling and chasing over the plateau, while overhead a veritable De Beers storehouse of stars glittered in the blackness. Although it would have been easier to keep to the high ground by climbing out over one of the ridges, it was towards the central thicket that Loofah headed.
The defile was nearly vertical and the ground under his feet was covered in a spongy, wet moss over which the soles of his shoes slid freely without any pretence of trying to grip. The crevice was choked with undergrowth and he slithered laboriously down by hanging from one wiry stem to another. Some species of briar, these were like steel cables: untwisting under his weight, but holding firm, never uprooting or snapping—though thankfully thornless, they nevertheless pulled and scratched at his clothes and skin. The sides of the great ridges now formed dark and massive walls that swept away from either side of the crevice, plunging vertically into the blackness of the valley. Far below, a thin ribbon of silver trickled across the sable depth: a moon-lit river meandering across the distant valley bottom.
There was no breeze here and he was sweating profusely in the warm, still air. The musky odour of some night bloom enveloped him, filling his head with a tingling dullness. The blood pulsed in his arteries and a familiar sticky warmth slithered down his spine, blending with the perspiration. As the moonlight hardly penetrated into the crevice, he fumbled in near darkness, dull and dizzy with the heavy scent, crushed by the sheer flanks of the two towering ridges.
Loofah probed tentatively with his foot and slipped on smooth rock. He had reached the top of a gully that plunged down the front of the slope, bordered on either side with a mossy fold of rock.
He was aware of the abyss below him, invisible in the blackness, and he knew that one slip would send him toppling into the void. But the heady perfume had lulled him into a fogged dream state – a thousand drug-crazed maggots wriggled through his veins, and his brain was filled with the fevered rustle of their frenzy – and his perception of the danger was theoretical, not visceral. Swinging from the wire-branches above, he slithered down into the gully, letting his feet slide down the smooth surface between the rock-folds. The gully widened soon after he had entered it, forcing him to abandon the wire stems altogether and continue his descent by wedging himself between the bordering folds of rock. Inside the gully the stone itself oozed a slimy algal growth which, as well as being perilously slippery, seemed to be the source of the aroma, the potency of which was now increased by a hundred-fold. And so, awhirl with intoxication and exhaustion, his whole body crawling with the maggot-frenzy, Loofah slid slowly down into the lethal shadow-blackness.
After two or so metres of this perilous descent, he reached a smooth bulge in the gully floor. Below the bulge, the gully widened further and its floor seemed to fall away into the vertical surface. Lodging his right shoulder against one of the side ridges and with both feet against the other, he explored with his free hand. He was at an opening in the vertical floor of the gully, the entrance to a smooth sided tunnel that ran horizontally into the rock.
He crouches low and squeezes forward. Blood pulses in his whirling skull, and nameless terrors circle and swoop, flapping and screeching like demonic seagulls. The tunnel presses in, hot and tight. He no longer has any awareness of where he is or why he is there—all he knows is that he must go on; a primal need to penetrate deeper and deeper throbs through him, desperate and urgent. The walls of the tunnel are smooth and slippery, and give slightly as he squeezes through, as if made of hard rubber.
His feet slide and slip on the slimy floor—he falls. As he struggles to get up, his palms slide away under him and he falls again. The blackness envelopes him in its warm turgid wetness—he can see nothing. He squeezes forward, hardly able to breathe the heavy, pungent air.
Inside his overheated skull his brain squirms like a rabid toad. He pushes himself forward on his belly now, sliding deeper and deeper into the hot, wet heart of the cave. He is a maggot now with no limbs, just a soft blind body worming itself into the wet blackness.
Then—suddenly—the hot-wet walls, the slippery-slimy floor are not there and he falls forward, tumbling out onto smooth cold rock. He screams, fighting away the demons that crowd inside his pressured skull—but they too are gone and he is fighting nothing but cool musty air, and the diminishing echoes of his own voice.
'Ahem.'
The sound of someone clearing his throat pierced the swirling fog and jabbed sharply into Loofah's bruised mind. Damp rock pressed gently against his palms and face. He sucked cold, primeval air into his lungs and opened his eyes—inches from his face flowed a column of white goo, porcelain-translucent and luminous with a pale dead light.
'Aha-aha-ahem.'
He pushed himself up and saw that he was now in some sort of a cavern that was filled with all manner of drooling shapes and masses formed of the same substance: slender pillars and enormous melting curtains dripping down from the roof, and half-melted piles of it, like a vast collection of ancient candles, covering most of the ground space. The strange luminescence permeated everything, as if the entire cavern were radioactive. Pulling himself up the nearest candle, he clambered unsteadily to his feet; the liquid stone was cold and hard, belying its appearance.
'Excuse me,' said an impatient voice. The speaker was a white deer sitting on a flat-topped dais. Pale as the moon with five-branched antlers of gleaming bone, it wore bifocal spectacles and carried a dog-eared brown folder between its front hooves.
'If you've got a moment, I would be so grateful of your attention,' said the deer, with a faint edge of sarcasm.
The pink luminous eyes of an albino peered at Loofah over the spectacles. This was a cave animal—the sun had never seen its ghostly hide.
'Who? Me?' asked Loofah.
The deer made a show of looking around to see if there was anyone else in the cave. There wasn't.
'Yes, you,' it said, 'I think we should get started. We've got a lot to get through and I do have another meeting at half past.'
'A meeting?'
'A meeting,' confirmed the deer, with infinite patience.
'You're an official, aren't you?' asked Loofah, as the first rudimentary thought processes began to reactivate within his post-traumatic grey matter.
'I am indeed a government hart.'
'At the heart of government—that does sound important.'
'"Hart" without an "E",' said the deer, flatly.
'Without any? Without any what?'
The deer sighed and rolled its eyes to the luminous, drooling roof.
'Without—an—"E",' it repeated slowly, as if speaking to a three-year-old.
'I should hope so,' said Loofah, 'I don't think mixing hard drugs and important government business is a good idea at—.'
He stopped dead, mid-sentence—for at that precise moment, in the fogged recesses of his mind, the penny had at last dropped. White light burst across his darkness and he swayed on his feet, steadying himself against a flowing pillar.
'Oh my God,' he gasped, 'It's you.'
'Indeed it is me,' said the deer, dryly, 'Always has been and, I trust, always will be.'
'I can hardly believe it—I wasn't expecting a deer.'
'"Hart" is my preferred appellation. Now, if you are quite ready, I think we can begin. I have been instructed to read to you the contents of this departmental memorandum.'
'A memorandum? What sort of memorandum?'
'An explanatory memorandum,' explained the deer.
'You mean a memorandum that explains things?'
'That is indeed the usual purpose of an explanatory memorandum.'
'That's good,' said Loofah, 'that's very good indeed—because there's a lot that I need explaining.'
'However, before we begin I would like to point out that I am strictly bound by departmental protocol. You should be aware that supplying information beyond the scope of this document falls outwith the remit of my brief.'
'But—but there's so much that I need to know, so much that I thought you were going to…'
'Departmental Memorandum number three four seven nine six stroke…'
'…tell me.'
'…two,' said the deer, peering over the top of its spectacles, 'Strictly confidential—printed in bold capitals.'
Loofah opened his mouth to speak again, but the deer's stern stare silenced him. It waited for a moment, rustled the document officiously between its hooves, and then continued.
'Addressed to: that individual hitherto, currently and henceforth referred to as The Seeker. From: the Advisory Sub-Committee to the Progress Audit Board for Statistical Analysis of the Central Management Committee of—' the deer paused for effect '—the Secretariat.'
Loofah gasped lightly, perfectly on cue.
'Subject matter,' continued the pale animal, 'Here and there: miscellaneous relevant notes thereon.'
'Here? That's where we are now, isn't it?'
'Section A: Relations between.'
'And there—I'm from there and so is—.'
'Point one: unity, otherwise known as the two as one.'
'Sorry?'
'First illuminating metaphor: two sides of the same coin. Second illuminating metaphor: two halves of the same whole.'
It stopped, allowing time for these pearls of wisdom to settle comfortably into Loofah's grey matter. Unfortunately they bounced off the hard bone of his cranium and rattled uselessly to the floor.
'Uh?' he said, 'I don't get it.'
The deer frowned.
'Note of interpretation,' it read, 'Every coin has two sides, every whole has two halves. A one sided coin is not legal tender. A single half cannot—by definition—be a whole whole.'
'Oh right,' said Loofah, dubiously.
'Point two: equilibrium. Organisational checks and balances, that is. Don't let the boat be rocked, keep everything on an even keel. In the organism of state, a balanced metabolism is a healthy metabolism.'
'And who does this? Mr Stobart? The Company?'
The deer rolled its eyes, sighed, and then read on.
'If balance is lost, adjustments will be necessary. Indeed, as noted in previous memoranda from the Sub-Committee, the Secretariat is exceptionally authorised to take any and all actions—the previous four words being typed in italics, for emphasis one assumes—that are necessary to restore the aforementioned equilibrium.'
'Of course not the Company—how stupid of me. That's a government job, isn't it? Keeping order, maintaining the status quo. I think I'm beginning to under—.'
'Section B.'
'Wait!' cried Loofah, 'There must be more under Section A. You've hardly said anything yet.'
'Journeys from there to here,' continued the deer, ignoring his protest, 'Point one. The Sub-Committee wishes to stress that inward travel is no longer advised. Point two. Notwithstanding point one above, inward journeys may be possible under certain restricted circumstances. These are colon first bullet point that a travel permit is obtained in advance from the appropriate Departmental Committee open parentheses see appendix four for details close parentheses, semi-colon second bullet point that the correct fee is paid open parentheses see appendix seven for details close parentheses. Point three.'
'Sorry to interrupt,' interrupted Loofah.
The deer stopped, again peering over its spectacles.
'Um, I think I must have travelled from there to here—but I don't remember getting a permit or paying a fare.'
'Then someone must have done it for you.'
'But—who?'
'I am not permitted to discuss classified information,' said the deer.
Even as it spoke, however, an image appeared, of an ample breasted Nazi in a cardigan accompanied by his bowler hatted henchman.
'I think I understand,' Loofah muttered, to himself.
'Point three,' the deer went on, 'As a result of developments detailed in appendix twelve open parentheses developments that are currently outwith government control close parentheses, the incoming traveller should note that, on arrival, he or she will no longer be one alone—but the two who are one open parentheses also known as the one who is two close parentheses.'
Loofah shifted uncomfortably, disturbed by the convoluted mathematics.
'Point four. The incoming traveller should also note that for the duration of his or her stay the Secretariat reserves the right at any time to involve him or her in departmental projects deemed to be of importance to state security.'
This time Loofah started forward, ears pricked. 'Projects? What do you mean, projects?'
'Such projects as that will be specified from time to time in official memoranda,' read the deer, 'Open parentheses both unrestricted and classified close parentheses.'
'Are you saying that the Secretariat can involve me in something without my permission?' cried Loofah, 'But surely that's against the law.'
The deer looked up from its document.
'I am not aware that the Secretariat and the law are in any way separate entities,' it said, ominously, 'Shall I continue?'
Loofah gaped for a moment, then closed his mouth and nodded.
'As such projects invariably involve matters of state security, persons involved will treat all information revealed and stroke or discovered by other means as being highly confidential. Point five. Incoming travellers should note that long term residence is not recommended under any circumstances. Concerned persons are asked to note that the Secretariat cannot be held responsible for the adverse consequences of disregarding this advice.'
Again Loofah started. 'What adverse consequences?'
The deer paused, looked at him for a moment with an almost pitying expression, then read on.
'Section C. Journeys from here to there. Point one. Outward travel is no longer possible. Point—.'
'But surely that's not true!' exclaimed Loofah, 'What about The Woman Who Is—.'
'—Two,' interrupted the deer, fixing him again with an elephant look, 'The single exception is currently the subject of an active departmental project open parentheses classification colon triple alpha priority close parentheses.'
'Jesus,' whispered Loofah, on the assumption that importance was proportional to the number of alphas accorded.
'Point three. Availability of information concerning the above mentioned active project.' The deer paused as Loofah waited expectantly. 'Information contained in unrestricted official memoranda is already in the public domain. Classified information will be made available through the appropriate channels at such a time as it is considered relevant to the recipient, applying a strict principal of open inverted commas need hyphen to hyphen know close inverted commas.'
'But that's not helpful at all!' cried Loofah, 'All that says is that I'm not to be told anything!'
'There is a footnote to this section,' said the deer calmly, at the end of this outburst, 'Shall I read it?'
Loofah nodded.
'Note concerning the putative guide for outward travel,' it read, 'The Sub-Committee is aware that the information contained within official memoranda open parentheses both unrestricted and classified close parentheses, whilst being extensive, is as yet incomplete. Although it is anticipated that Secretariat staff will gain access to further relevant information over the ongoing course of the project, the timeliness of this eventuality cannot be guaranteed. Nevertheless, and notwithstanding any of the above, the Sub-Committee does have every confidence in the capacity of the addressee of this communication to succeed in locating the aforementioned personage and to thereby enable the outward journey which is so crucial to their long term wellbeing.'
The deer paused and gave him one of its portentous looks. A strange chill shimmered over Loofah's skin and he shuddered quickly.
'The Sub-Committee would like to take this opportunity to wish the addressee every success in this mission and to assure them of the full and continued support of the Secretariat in its execution.'
It ended with a note of finality and then slipped the document into the brown folder.
'Is that all?' asked Loofah, 'Surely not.'
'I have read out the entire memorandum,' confirmed the deer, removing its spectacles and rising to its hooves.
'Hang on a minute—you're not going, are you?'
'As I believe I have already informed you, I have another meeting to attend.'
'But there's so much I need to ask.'
'I have no authorization to issue any further information at this stage.'
'Oh, please,' begged Loofah, 'Just a couple of questions—about the double woman.'
'I am sorry, but you ought to be aware that this would be more than my position within the Department is worth,' said the deer, stepping down from its dais.
'But I've struggled so hard to find you. You can't just dash off before—.'
'I repeat, I am not authorized to say any more. If you wish to pursue this matter any further you will have to take it up with my superior.'
'Your superior? But who's that?'
'I regret that I am not authorised to say.'
'You're not authorised to say who your superior is?'
'That is correct.'
And with this the ghostly animal turned and started walking away into the cavern.
'Can't you ask for authorisation?' Loofah called after it, in desperation.
'I am not authorised to ask for authorisation,' said the deer, over its shoulder, 'Now if you will excuse me, I'm a very busy hart.'
Loofah slumped down into his jacket and watched the subterranean official wind away through the pillars, its antlers occasionally rattling against the great icicles of luminous rock hanging from the roof. When it was nearly out of sight, the deer stopped and turned.
'Oh, I nearly forgot,' it called, 'The members of the Sub-Committee feel that a purification step might be useful at this stage, to further prepare you for your mission.'
'Purification?'
'In the Golden Stream. If you would be so good as to just wait here, this will be arranged in due course.'
The deer's voice echoed round the pillared cathedral, and then disappeared into the darkness after its master.
Finally resigned to the fact that his encounter with the long-sought after official was really at an end, Loofah sat himself down on the cold wet floor of the cavern, leaning back against one of the flowing columns.
The surface of this appeared so soft and cosy, like a melted stack of foam cushions, and yet dug into his vertebrae with a hundred bony fingers. While he waited, he decided to sift through what the deer had told him, to classify all the new bytes of data imparted and then to carefully integrate them into his existing database. Despite the acute discomfort of his back-rest, however, his head began to swim with drowsiness and the ghostly pillars in front of him swayed and undulated like anaemic belly dancers. Whenever he took hold of a thought and held it up to his mental eye for scrutiny, a liquid dreaminess flooded across his vision, blending everything into everything else and then inventing things that should never have been there in the first place.
Dentressangle's alter ego swam out the darkness, hovered for a moment, then grew antlers where his breasts should have been and rutted with Cissy and Elspeth, who had permed their ears and used them as horns. The white nymph appeared, danced around a bit, then fell suddenly pregnant and gave birth to a fully grown Weimaraner in a nun's habit. Loofah's head filled with leaden syrup and sunk towards his chest. Seagull pegs swallowed plastic dolls with weasel's heads, rotting corpses buried living vicars in open graves, and flocks of blue gowned surgeons dived from the bright sky, stooping like falcons on mutant, hydra-headed patients. The white pillars swirled and flowed into each other as his eyelids slid down. The figures spun in the blackness—the pegs and the dolls, the vicars and the antlered hermaphrodite—then blended into each other in a swirl of colour which then became a gentle, pulsing buzz, throbbing steadily in time with his heart.