The Curious Journey of Mr. Eric Delko or Red Star Galactica

SO THEY SPENT their first night at the Artists' Retreat. Clouds had closed in earlier, hiding the mountains and the valley. Outside, snowflakes were swirling higgledy-piggledy in the light from the windows, though no great amount was actually settling. It was rather like being inside a child's snow-scene which was being tipped this way and that, constantly stirring up the same finite amount of white plastic flakes.

For tonight's supper in the dining room, Alex had dished up some hot borscht with hambones, followed by pickled sturgeon and boiled cabbage.

The Retreat's dining room had been a minor ballroom once, before it had been crudely partitioned---leaving a blue plastered ceiling far too high for the remaining space, one moreover that curved upwards without ever curving down again. One electric chandelier hung well off center. The solitary window was big, stretching from floor to ceiling, and draped in faded purple damask like a stage.

Conversation over supper was desultory; and this was not just because Alex hung around to hear as much as he could.

Igor could be said to be in disgrace---were it not that Bragin was as fascinated as he was disturbed by the strange turn of events that had just now taken place. While Bragin would also have been in disgrace---were the Doctor's expertise not the only straw left to cling to, as the film project foundered further into chaos of unhistory.362Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡf0thERdDmM
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Diana Kotov was brooding. She was worried about her mentor's reputation, but still eagerly sure of his perspicacity. Thus she had begun to search out psychological motives by which to explain Arthur's erratic response to hypnosis. But this wasn't easy, as Arthur was increasingly able to "turn on" Eric at will and seemed blithely assured of the validity of his Eric; which made him a tough case to crack---for who was analyzing?

What's more, Arthur was starting to feel strongly attached to this handsome chap----whichever chap he might be!---as so many ladies, years earlier, had felt drawn to Mr. Delko. This sentiment was only intensified for her by the feeling of sensory deprivation in the Retreat, with the world beyond the walls blanked out.

Probably, Arthur decided, she was experiencing something akin to the imprinting of a newly-hatched duckling---upon its mother duck, or an old boot, whichever came first.

Yet she felt sure that she could help Arthur therapeutically by a more direct form of involvement with him. In the sheets is truth, after all! Where was the harm in a bold initiative?

She knew damn well where the harm was, professionally. But by now absurdity seemed to have invaded all their lives, and it was surely undermining hers. She felt detached from the realities of the present: It was as if she, Diana, had been hypnotized, not Arthur. Or as if the tobacco smoke curling upward from Bragin's briar pipe contained opium....

Anyway, Arthur was making eyes at her, wasn't he? He seemed bent on enjoying every moment of the limelight--as much as he savored the pickled sturgeon.

She puzzled. Eric had never been a ladies' man, had he? Maybe Arthur was only teasing her, in keeping with his other role.

Maybe she should have a few words in private with Dr. Bragin, about this confusion she was feeling? But he was too obviously preoccupied.362Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbt5iJMKDrV
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That night Diana managed to control herself. She refrained from tiptoeing along the corridor at midnight.

But when she awoke the next morning, it was with a feeling of angry frustration, a sense of resentment that she had thrown away a good opportunity. A good opportunity to do---What? Make a prime ass out of herself? But she hardly gave a damn about that. All the minor frustrations of her life seemed all at once to reach a climax.

"That's more than can be said for me!' she thought bitterly.

She came downstairs to a breakfast of black bread, cherry jam and slices of Bulgarian goat cheese, to find Tisha and Igor already snapping away at each other across the table. As nobody else was in the room yet, Diana went over to the window to avoid getting involved.

Not one single external object was visible. Not a tree, not a bush, not a stone. A blank white covering of snow hid what she remembered to be a paved path running right around the building, the thin layer was as neat as a newly tucked-in sheet. As for the rest of the world, the Retreat might as well have been floating in midair in the heart of a cumulus cloud. There was only a dense white mist, woolly and indefinite, unmoving.

"What weather!" she said....just as Dr. Bragin swept into the dining room, arm in arm with Arthur, an elder statesman leading his protege.362Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOaT7ElQWQR

I've been giving a lot of thought to our little difficulty," he said with no preamble. "Now, it's possible to project a hypnotic subject into a future role, as well as a past one. Now, when I say 'future,' naturally I'm referring to the future as foreseen on the basis of subconsciously available data. The popular journalists might be tempted to describe this as 'Reincarnation in the Future'...."

Igor glared malevolently.

"----Though needless to say it has no connection with an afterlife in some future body---no more than yesterday's work had anything to do with actual reincarnation! Now, when i say 'actual,' I must remind you that no such thing as reincarnation exists, except in decadent Western popular culture. Nevertheless, an element of genuine precognition may well be present in such exercises. If it could be properly developed a superability of this sort would make the work of Futurology less of a guessing game."

"To hell with your Futurology!" barked Igor. "I've got a script to assemble. Preferably this weekend."

When Bragin first came in, Diana had rushed to the table at lightning speed and helped herself to a slice of goat cheese. Now she found in her agitation that she was spreading the cheese with jam!

"What Igor is saying," said Tisha heavily, "is that while you would win our fixed attention at any other time, right now we have a more pressing problem on our hands."

"Quite so!" Bragin refused to take offense. "What I propose for our first session today is to tell Art that he has already successfully completed his role in The Curious Journey of Mr. Eric Delko. In his mind, he will be living in the future. The movie will already be...in the can. This may, ah, clear the stage..."

Without further ado, as if it wasn't up to Tisha to yea or nay this suggestion, Bragin proceeded to sit down and tuck into cherry jam made from cherries from the orchards down Irkutsk way.

"Any port in a storm," muttered Igor directly. "To quote our beloved Fedoitk..."

Diana discovered that jam spread on goat cheese was absolutely delicious. This was just as well, since she could hardly scrape it off again, in front of them all.

Arthur grinned at her. "Onward to the future!"

The Curious Journey of Mr. Eric Delko or Red Star Galactica

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