BRAZIL
I t takes me a while to digest the truth about the truth about the truth .
And as the drink’s effect starts to wear off and I start to return to my normal size again, it’s hard to imagine how Carolus came up with the idea. It’s even hard to imagine what a plague of truth would do to this world.
In my mind, I try to think of the asylum as my small rat lab for a truth experiment. What would happen if I told Waltraud and Ogier how I felt about them? I’d end up in perpetual shock therapy until I fried like grilled chicken.
And then what if Waltraud told Dr. Tom Truckle how she thought he was the maddest of all and that he belonged in a cell like every other Mushroomer?
And what if Tom told himself he was addicted to his pills? He’d probably admit himself to the asylum.
But what if every Mushroomer in the asylum told the truth? That wouldn’t work, right? Because in truth, every Mushroomer believes he is sane.
I haven’t been out in the world much, as far as I can remember, at least. So I can’t really judge. But it seems like Carolus’s idea was sinister and effective. Apparently, people aren’t meant to tell the truth to each other.
My eyes start to see things clearer now, but the Scientist’s image is still blurry. I guess it’ll only be minutes until I see who he is. Am I supposed to think he is someone I know?
“And the truth shall set you free,” the Pillar muses. “Free enough to kill one another.”
“Stop looking at the world from that angle,” I tell him.
“Soon, there’ll be no angle to see the world from, dear Alice.” The Pillar sighs. “So tell me, Mr. Scientist, shouldn’t lying be a cure for the truth?”
“It should,” the Scientist says. “But even if I knew how to cook that kind of cure, how long would it take to reach everyone? The Hookah of Hearts has been sold for more than a year. I designed it to take effect about a year in. Let’s say, hypothetically, I cook a cure of lying now. How will you give it to the people? How long will it take to work?”
“So, all this adventure was for nothing?” I tell myself. “At least I saved the kids.”
“And what world will they live in?” the Pillar muses. “Mr. Scientist, there must be a cure.”
I know this tone from the Pillar. He is planning on threatening this man once he retrieves his full vision like me.
And here we go. I can almost see everything in its normal size, including the Scientist.
But this isn’t quite right, because the Scientist is one of the Reds. I can’t see his face under the cloak he is wearing.
The Pillar, back to normal too, steps forward to pull the cloak, but is immediately stopped by the many other Reds squeezed into this room.
“I wouldn’t come near me again if I were you,” the Scientist says from under his cloak. “Let’s keep it that way.”
My first impression is not to struggle with those Reds. Because let’s think about it. Something here isn’t right.
“Then I assume you have nothing against us leaving.” The Pillar flips his cane and pretends he’s walking away.
“Not so fast, Senor Pillardo.”
The words send a surge of fear through me. Is that the Executioner?