Legends From the End of Time, Michael Moorcock [best motivational books of all time TXT] 📗

the principles involved. She had been guilty of uncontrolled behaviour. She had failed, after all, to maintain her determination, her ideals. In Armatuce there would be no question of her next decision, she would have applied for adult status for her son and, if it had been granted, so settled the matter. But here…"

And was she justified in judging Miss Ming a worse influence than herself? Perhaps Miss Ming, in this world, prepared Snuffles for survival? But she could not support such an essentially cynical view. Miss Ming was disliked by all, renowned for her stupidity. Lord Jagged would make a better mentor; Sweet Orb Mace, indeed, would make a better mentor than Miss Ming.

All the old confusion swam back into her mind, and she regretted bitterly her misguided tolerance in allowing Miss Ming to influence the boy. But still she felt no conviction; still she wondered whether self-interest, loneliness — even jealousy — had dictated her actions. Never before had she known such turmoil of conscience.

That night the sleep of Dafnish Armatuce was again disturbed, and there were dreams, vague, prophetic and terrible, from which she woke into a reality scarcely less frightening. Before dawn she fell asleep again, dreaming of her husband and her co-workers in Armatuce. Did they condemn her? It seemed so.

She became aware, as she slept, that there was pressure on her legs. She tried to move them, but something blocked them. She opened her eyes, sought the obstruction, and saw that Miss Ming sat there. She was prim today. She wore black and blue; muted, apologetic colours. Her eyes were downcast. She twisted at a cuff.

"I came to apologize," said Miss Ming.

"There is no need." Her head ached; the muscles in her back were knotted. She rubbed her face. "It was my fault, not yours."

"I was carried away. It was so delightful, you see, for me. As a girl I had no chums."

"I understand. But," more gently, "you still intrude, Miss Ming."

"I know you, too, must be very lonely. Perhaps you resent the fact that your son has a friend in me. I don't mean to be rude, but I've thought it over lots. I feel I should speak out. You shouldn't be unkind to Snuffles."

"I have been. I shall not be in future."

Miss Ming frowned. "I thought of a way to help. It would give you more freedom to live your own life. And I'm sure Snuffles would be pleased…"

"I know what to do, Miss Ming."

"You wouldn't punish him! Surely!"

"There is no such thing as punishment in Armatuce. But I must strengthen his character."

A tear gleamed. Miss Ming let it fall. "It's all my fault. But we were good friends, Dafnish, just as you and I could be good friends, if you'd only…"

"I need no friends. I have Armatuce."

"You need me!" The woman lurched forward, making a clumsy attempt to embrace her. "You need me!"

The wail was pathetic and Dafnish Armatuce was moved to pity as she pushed Miss Ming by her shoulders until she had resumed her original position on the bed. "I do not, Miss Ming."

"The boy stands between us. If only you'd let him grow up normally!"

"Is that what you were trying to achieve?"

"No! We were both misguided. I sought to please you , don't you see? You're so proud, such an egotist. And this is what I get. Oh, yes, I was a fool."

"The customs of the Armatuce are such," said Dafnish evenly, "that special procedures must be taken before a child is allowed adult status. There is no waste in Armatuce."

"But this is not Armatuce." Miss Ming was sobbing violently. "You could be happy here, with me, if you'd only let me love you. I don't ask much. I don't expect love in return, not yet. But, in time…"

"The thought is revolting to me!"

"You suppress your normal emotions, that's all!"

She said gently: "I am an Armatuce. That means much to me. I should be obliged, Miss Ming, if…"

"I'm going!" The woman rose, dabbing at her eyes. "I could help. Doctor Volospion would help us both. I could…"

"Please, Miss Ming."

Miss Ming looked up imploringly. "Could I see Snuffles? One last time?"

Dafnish relented. "To say goodbye to the child? Yes. Perhaps you could help me —"

"Anything!"

"Tell him to remember his destiny. The destiny of an Armatuce."

"Will he understand?"

"I hope so."

"I'll help. I want to help."

"Thank you."

Miss Ming walked unsteadily from the room. Dafnish Armatuce heard her footsteps in the corridor, heard her enter Snuffles' chamber, heard the child's exclamation of pleasure. She drew a deep breath and let it leave her slowly. With considerable effort she got up, washed and dressed, judging, now, that Miss Ming had had a fair allotment of time with the boy.

As she entered the brown and yellow hall, she glanced across to Lord Jagged's door. It was open. She hesitated, and as she did so, Lord Jagged appeared, looking less tired than he had before, but more thoughtful.

"Lord Jagged!"

"Aha, the admirable Dafnish!" His smile was soft, almost melancholy. "Do you enjoy your stay at Canaria? Is all to your liking?"

"It is perfect, Lord Jagged, but I would go home."

"You cannot. Are you still unconvinced?"

"When we last met — that night — you said something concerning the fabric of Time. The Laws, hitherto regarded as immutable, were not operating as expected?"

"I was weary. I should not have spoken."

"But you did. Therefore can I not request a fuller explanation?"

"I would raise hope where none should be permitted."

"Can I not judge?"

He shrugged, his high, grey collar almost swallowing the lower half of his face. His slim hands fingered his lower lip. "Very well, but I must ask secrecy from you."

"You have it. I am an Armatuce."

"There is little I can tell you, save this: Of late the sturdy, relentless structure of Time, which has always, so far as we know, obeyed certain grim Laws of its own, has begun to show instabilities. Men have returned to the past and remained there for much longer periods than was thought