Page 53 of Katabasis
“Gosh,” said Alice.
It was apparent now the entire bridge, and all its ornamentation, was formed of petrified Shades. Everywhere she could trace out clues of human forms. Here, an extended leg; there, two arms wrapped over a head. But the footsteps held firm, and there were no other trails that got them across, so it seemed only reasonable to proceed forth. Archimedes darted across without hesitation. A chorus of moans echoed in his wake, and as Alice followed, all she could think of was the particular pitch of each moan on each step; how if you could just jump across five steps at once, you could play the opening to Mozart’s Symphony No. 25.
The path was thinner across the bridge, and more treacherous—this time, they had to haul themselves uphill. Further up, two Shades were tussling over a particularly bendy part of the path. The dispute seemed to be over who should have made way for the other, which struck Alice as rather pointless, since they were all going to the same destination in the end. But the Shades kept jostling one another, until one placed his hands on the other’s shoulders and pushed him clean off an overpass.
“Watch out!” Peter yanked Alice back.
Concerned, Alice peeked over the ledge. But the fallen Shade simply picked himself up and proceeded at an undignified crawl up toward the bank, none the worse for the wear. They were already dead, she supposed. Anything that happened now was just an indignity.
The Shade who’d pushed the other peeked over the ledge as well, then huffed as if with satisfaction before continuing on his way. Alice and Peter followed cautiously in his wake.
“What a dick,” muttered Alice.
“I wonder what he did.” Peter squinted at the Shade, then cried in a too-loud whisper, “Why, that’s Bill Cadeaux!”
Fortunately the Shade named Bill Cadeaux did not hear. The name rang only a faint bell for Alice. “Who’s that?”
“He and Hollis Galloway were up for the same job back in the sixties,” said Peter. “It was a terrible scandal.”
“Hollis Galloway the semiotician?”
Peter nodded. “They’re both semioticians.Were.So Cadeaux and Galloway were up for the same job at Chicago, and after the job talks they decided to make an offer to Galloway. Only Cadeaux got wind of it and started sending anonymous letters to Chicago pretending to be graduate students alleging that she’d—you know—”
“Diddled them?” Alice supplied.
“Basically, yes. Which wouldn’t have been such a big deal, except that Cadeaux was pretending to befemalestudents, which made Galloway out to be some sort of predatory lesbian. Now, Chicago doesn’t mind predators; lesbians, that’s another story. So Chicago launches this whole investigation into Galloway, who might actuallyhavebeen a lesbian, just not the predatory kind, and so she gets so scared off that she rescinds her job application, and Cadeaux gets the job, and no one knew any better until word got out he was bragging about it to graduate students at the pub. He’d made the whole thing up. He’d got his mum and sisters to handwrite anonymous letters and everything. Galloway found out and swore she’d ruin his career, except she died in a car accident before anyone could get to the bottom of things.”
“Jesus,” Alice muttered. “I’d think he belongs in worse than Greed.”
“And then once the word spread, he insisted he was innocent. Swore to his dying day that none of the allegations were made up, that Galloway reallyhadharassed all those students.” Peter stared after Bill Cadeaux, fascinated. “I just can’t understand it. How you could do that to someone else. How you could live with yourself after.”
Alice thought Peter was laying it on rather thick, considering. “I think some people are just that selfish.”
“I mean, but to sabotage a colleague! That’s demonic!”
“Oh, sure.” Alice could not restrain herself. “And you’re an absolute angel yourself.”
Immediately she regretted saying this. Peter slowed his pace. “What does that mean?”
“Sorry—nothing—I only meant, we’re all competitive, aren’t we? There’s department politics everywhere.”
He seemed unconvinced. “Are you angry with me?”
“No.” She tried to speak calmly, and instead her voice came out a bright chirrup. “Why would I be?”
“You’ve been short with me all morning.”
“Sorry.” Alice hugged her arms across her chest. She might have done a better job acting the fool, she knew, but she simply wasn’t a very good actor. “I’m only very tired, and very hungry. It’s not you.”
“Okay.” They continued walking in silence for a moment. Then Peter asked, “Is this about the Cooke?”
“What? No!”
“It’s just you’ve been a little weird ever since I mentioned it. And I know it was rude to brag, and I’m sorry...”
She was certain now he was fucking with her. How cruel, how unbelievably cruel this was. She felt like a small animal, trapped in a cage.
What if she laid it all out in the open? She had half a mind to do so. Anything to put an end to this torture. I know what you’re doing, she could say—your puppy dog act won’t work on me,fuckyou, Murdoch. But then what? Would he confess, apologize? Ludicrous. More likely he, too, would push her over the ledge. He didn’t need her whole, he only needed her alive. The only relevant feature in that spell was the presence of a living soul. And Peter could do anything to her before he dragged her over the finish line.
