The gentleman stopped laughing and looked at me again, right at the bridge of my nose:
— You’re a reasonable man. You know what you need to know. In your world, this place is called hell. There are no devils here, no cauldrons of sinners. Reality is more complicated and more unpleasant than that, but that’s not the point right now. First, let me dispel some illusions: having visited as a guest during your lifetime, you’ll end up back here after death without fail. Yes, don’t be surprised — there is life after death. Not much joy in it, though. You’ve experienced a fraction of what awaits you. No need to grieve. You have me, your mentor. We can settle everything, and we will. By the way. Do you believe in God?
— No.
— That’s correct, he really doesn’t exist. There’s only me, — the gentleman smiled at the corners of his mouth. — Everything invented about God’s image, his deeds, and the rest — it’s fiction. Same as everything invented about me. There’s no God. His functions are performed by an information field, ephemeral but real enough — call it the Mind, if you like. Or the aether. And then there’s me, the information field’s assistant. An assistant who physically exists, tangible, active. Those are the two foundations of the universe — one thinks, the other acts. The Mind and I share a small hobby, which also happens to be a source of argument between us — human beings. We created humanity long ago, but to this day it’s not entirely clear why. The original idea was that man would become my assistant in building paradise on Earth. We made him not an animal but a rational being, endowed with empathy and capable of caring for the good of others. It went sideways. Tell me, if it’s no trouble — why is a person born?
— ... to live.
— Live how?
— ... well, I suppose.
— What makes you think «well»? Maybe his purpose is to search for an answer to the question, «How do you remove imperfection from the world?» Maybe his lot is to help me and make the world better. Why does a person think only of himself? What is he, really? A bipedal mammal whose consciousness is capable of rising above instinct. It’s that consciousness that sets man apart from animals and makes him like me. And, I don’t know why, but a person rarely uses his capacity for thought, while regularly behaving like livestock.
— What does the soul have to do with any of this?
— Nothing. The soul is a blank sheet on which a person writes his dreams. Then, through his actions, he either confirms what’s written or crosses it out. That’s all. After death, the universal mind reads what’s written and draws its conclusions. What conclusions, I couldn’t say. For some reason it gave people souls. I work with material things. A contract for a transaction, for instance.
— What transaction?
— An official one. In exchange for any wishes of yours, I acquire your soul — your sheet of dreams.
— And if I don’t sign?
— Your choice. You’ll go back to your old life, but after death you’ll end up here. You’ll fight wars in the desert, break rocks in quarries, brawl in barracks, freeze in cages, and flee from beasts. You’ll suffer, agonize, die, and rise again. This is your fate. You’ve already been here, and you will come back, without fail.
— And if I sell my soul? What happens then?
— The same thing. After death you’ll end up here. You’ll fight wars in the desert, break rocks in quarries, brawl in barracks, freeze in cages, flee from beasts, suffer and agonize, die and rise again, but... Before ending up here, you’ll get to enjoy your life. You’ll get everything you wish for. Splendid, isn’t it?
— Splendid. What I don’t understand is something else: the people who don’t end up here — where do they go instead?
— No idea. The ones who don’t end up here fly off to other places, and what’s there, I don’t know and don’t much care. Maybe they swim in fruit compote and fly through the air. But tell me — can bliss be eternal? Think back on yourself. When you were dying of thirst, what did you want? A drink. Once you’d had one, you wanted food. Once you were fed, you burned with passion for a girl. I understand what you were after, back then. But suppose you’d gotten it? Would you have married her? And then what? I think a new desire would have come along. A limousine, palm trees, a mistress... A human being is a spiral of desires, wound around instinct. Unfortunately, Homo sapiens is built so that even landing in paradise, he’ll suffer and agonize just the same as before. Remember the blue room with the girl? A perfect model of paradise. So accept the fact: you have no choice, and you never did. You can only choose from what I offer — fame, wealth, women... anything you wish, in exchange for your soul.
— No, — I blurted out, racing through my school literature curriculum in my head. What grade had they taught Goethe in? What was Faust actually about? How was the plot built, what was the secret to it? Master and Margarita? What had Woland been preaching? Or that other one, what was his name, Pontius Pilate? There had to be some secret buried in those books! Every work of literature was supposed to carry a lesson for future generations!
As if on purpose, nothing came to mind except the film Little Tragedies and the line «I’m bored, demon.» Though I did recall the words of Joseph Vissarionovich: «This thing is stronger than Goethe’s Faust.»
Nothing else. Though, wait... Annushka had already spilled the oil!
The gentleman smiled, watching my mental struggles.
— I hope that’s not your final answer, — he said, folding his prayer beads and tucking them into a side pocket.
A ring with a red-eyed gem flashed on his finger as he drew out from beneath the tabletop a small, glittering crystal sphere, about the size of a chicken’s egg. He rolled it through the air toward me.
The sphere didn’t fall and shatter. No — shimmering with rainbow colors, inexplicably growing larger, it floated toward me like a soap bubble. I watched, spellbound, as the magical sphere drifted up to me and... ah!... brushed me with its gaseous surface, raising the hair on my body and breathing out a menthol scent. The sphere swallowed me, shrinking and warping space around me. I felt myself rising toward the red sky, leaving the gentleman below...
