Robert Sheckley - City of the Dead

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Gilford Graphics

International

presents

Published by special arrangement with the author

this copy is made available to you at no charge.

Mr. Sheckley joins Mr. Stephen King in his attempt to

revolutionize the publishing industry.

City Of The Dead

We fly through the streets of the city of the

dead, a ghost among ghosts, and we turn the

corners and respect the masses of the buildings,

even though we could fly right through them. This is

a documentary about hell, not a commentary. The

city of the dead, the city of hell is abstract enough

without us worsening the situation by flying through

walls that are supposed to be solid.

It is quite wonderful to be able to fly through the

streets. Most of this city is built of a soft white

marble, and it is a very classical sort of place. Plenty

of pillars so that you could almost think you were in

Athens in about 400 b.c. But the streets are empty,

there's no traffic of any sort, the city of the dead is a

dead sort of place, although people have tried to

start some entertainment.

It stands to reason, what else do the dead have to

do but entertain themselves? What to do has been a

problem in hell for a long time. What is death for?

What's it all about? This sort of thing begins to

bother people once they find themselves dead. The

first thing they do is check out their situation. OK,

I'm dead, I've got that. So is this supposed to be

punishment? If so, what for? Is it for my sins?

Which sins, specifically? Is atonement permitted?

What do I have to do to atone? Or is it a question of

serving a specific sentence? Or is this one forever,

and should we just relax it and take it one day at a

time?

City Of The Dead

The main question of course is, how long does this

go on? Most people would even take "Forever" as an

answer. But that's not what they tell you, once you

start asking. On the contrary. You are led to believe

from the start that hell is for a period of time, after

which there will be something else. Maybe this is the

only way they can get you to think over your life.

Because you're going to have to do something about

it. Or so you think

"By the way," I said, "would you like a

pomegranate seed?"

I was Hades, a large well-built fellow with black

hair and a black closely trimmed beard. I was a sort

of piratical looking fellow, though soft in nature to

belie my bold looks. My grabbing Persephone the

way I did was the first thing of its kind I had ever

done. Put it down to irresistible impulse. There she

was, gathering flowers in the meadows with her

girlfriends, and I was riding by in my golden chariot

drawn by my four fiery black horses, and the next

thing I knew she was in my arms and there was hell

to pay.

Persephone of course was beautiful. She had long

light brown hair that reached to her waist. Her nose,

also, was quite finely drawn. It was one of those

perfect Greek noses that merge up into the

forehead.

City Of The Dead

That was then and now was now, six months later,

and she and I were sitting in the little shaded

platform on the banks of the Styx, at the place where

Charon ties up his houseboaty. She looked at the

two pomegranate seeds I was holding out to her,

and said, "You're not trying to trick me, are you?"

"No" I told her, "I'm not a tricky sort of a guy. I

don't play games. That's not how we operate here in

hell. We're direct, straightforward, just like I was

when I kidnapped you in the first place. Do you

remember that day?"

"I remember it all too well," Persephone said. "I

was out in the fields, harvesting with my friends.

You came riding up in your chariot of gold drawn by

four fiery horses. You were wearing black.

"And I lifted you up with one arm, first twisting

my cloak back so it would be out of the way. I put

my arm around your waist and lifted you into my

chariot."

"The girls just stood by and gaped," Persephone

said. "And when Mother found out, she didn't know

what to make of it."

"She knew perfectly well what to make of it," I

told her. "It had been prophesied long ago that this

would happen: that I would see you gathering

flowers with the other nymphs and fall in love with

you. And it was the first time I ever fell in love. I'm

not like the other gods, you know, Apollo and

City Of The Dead

Poseidon and all that lot. They're forever falling in

love and swearing that this time it's for keeps. And

then they're off again next day after the next bit of

skirt. But I am the King of Death and I only fall in

love once."

"Poor Hades!" Persephone said. "Will you be very

lonely without me?"

"I'll have my memories," I told her. "I've had a

wonderful half year with you. I've loved having you

on the throne beside me. I've been so happy that

you're my queen in hell."

"I quite liked being queen of hell," Persephone

said. "It's been special.. I mean, hell is not like some

other country. Hell is everything after it's been used

up and turned all soft and easy to handle."

"Hell is the place of appreciation," I told her. "On

earth, when you're living, there's not enough time to

really get into things. But here in hell everything can

take as long as it needs. There's nothing to fear

because we're dead already. But also there's nothing

to feel bad about because in some weird way we're

still living."

"The afternoons are so long," Persephone said.

"They're like the afternoons when I was a girl. They

seemed to just go on and on, and the sun is

reluctant to climb down the sky. But here there is no

sun. Just a faint sepulchral glow across the marches

City Of The Dead

that at irregular intervals lightens and darkens. But

no definite sun. I miss the sun."

I nodded. "We have light, but no sun. There's

moonlight, though, and the special light from the

torches that light the halls of the palace of death."

"Yes, and they cast long shadows," Persephone

said. "I used to be afraid of shadows, but in hell

there isn't anything to fear."

"No," I said, "the worst has happened and it's all

over. Won't you try this pomegranate seed?"

She took one of the pomegranate seeds I was

offering her and put it on the palm of her narrow

white hand. "Why do you want me to eat it?" she

said. "It's a trick, isn't it?"

"Yes," I said, "I can keep no secrets from you. It's

a trick."

"What happens if I eat it?"

"It means I will still have some claim on you even

in the land of the living. It means that you will

return to hell."

"Return to hell?" Persephone said. "But I was

planning to return and visit you anyway."

I shook my head. "You don't know what you'll do

when you get back into the upper world with its

City Of The Dead

light and air. Once you're fully alive again, you'll

forget me. And you'll wonder how you ever came to

enjoy this gloomy palace with its dark courtyards

and the river of forgetfulness always running by

with the dead souls swimming just below its surface

and the weeping willows murmuring just overhead.

You'll think to yourself, 'He must have bewitched

me! No one in his right mind goes for a holiday in

hell.'"

She smiled and touched my hand. "Maybe you

have bewitched me. I'm quite content here in hell."

"Then eat the pomegranate seed," I told her.

She did not move. Her gaze was far away. She said

after a while, "Achilles and Helen asked us over this

evening for dinner. You must make my apologies."

We freeze on Hades and Persephone, and then we

cut away from them, leave the river bank, track

across green rolling meadows with topiary sculpture

that makes the place look like a funeral home or a

French park, and we continue to the palace of the

dead. From the middle distance it like a small city.

The palace is the composite of many palace-shaped

buildings. They are all crowded together, and some

are a dozen levels high. You see all sorts of shapes in

these buildings made up of many other buildings

that make up the city of the dead. There are domes

of all sorts, and spires, and many shapes, both

curved and cubical. Binding them all together are

narrow roadways from many different levels. From

many of the buildings you can walk out a window

City Of The Dead

onto an upper floor and cross directly, or by a little

catwalk, to the next building.

The lighting of the city of the dead is like

moonlight. Or like late afternoon sunlight in winter

as seen from behind a bank of clouds. It is not night,

it is not day. Twilight is the eternal hour in the city

of the dead.

There's not a lot to do around here. But if you're

bored, you can watch the people step out their

windows and take to the catwalks to cross from one

part of the city to another. There are wires that

connect everything to everything else here, and

some people use them as shortcuts, Tiptoeing along

the high wires to get from place to place. They do

this clumsily, because few of the dead, just as few of

the living, have any acrobatic ability. They use the

catwalks and high wires anyway, no one fears

falling. When you fall from a catwalk in the city of

the dead, you tumble down to the ground slowly,

slowly, like a shadow falling. If you happen to

bounce off a cornice or two, or graze yourself on a

gargoyle, or catch yourself on a sharp projecting bit

of roof, it is no matter. You can't hurt yourself,

you're already dead. You can't feel any pain. Pain is

forbidden. That is because pleasure is forbidden.. Or

unlikely, almost the same thing.

Where there is no pleasure, there's no pain. Some

might think that a good tradeoff. The dead in the

palace of the dead don't think so. Being unable to

hurt yourself just makes the boredom that much

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GilfordGraphicsInternationalpresentsCopyright2000RobertSheckley.Allrightsreserved.Publishedbyspecialarrangementwiththeauthorthiscopyismadeavailabletoyouatnocharge.Mr.SheckleyjoinsMr.StephenKinginhisattempttorevolutionizethepublishingindustry.CityOfTheDead1Weflythroughthestreetsofthecityofthedead,agh...

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Robert Sheckley - City of the Dead

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