Kingsley Amis
The Anti-Death League
First published in 1966
Part One
The Edge of a Node
A GIRL and an older woman were walking along a metaled pathway. To their left, beyond a strip of grass, was the front of a large high building in grey stone. Reaching its corner, at which there was a pointed turret, brought them a view of a square of grass on which stood a tower-like structure supported by stone pillars. The afternoon sun was shining brightly and the space under the main part of the tower was in deep shadow.
The girl halted. "What's happening?" she asked.
"That's just the old cat," said the other. "He's spotted something under the tower there, I expect."
A small black cat, crouching quite still, faced the shadow. After a moment, a bird with tapering wings flew out, dipped towards the cat, gave two brief twitters and wheeled back to where it had come from. The girl went on watching.
"Oh, you know what that is," said the older woman. "She'll have got a nest under there, the bird, and she's trying to keep the cat away from it. Trying to give him a scare, you see."
As she spoke, three uniformed men came into sight round the corner of the block beyond the tower and walked along the path towards the women. At the same time, a large aircraft, flying low, moved into earshot.
The bird made its circuit exactly as before. "Why doesn't he move?" asked the girl. "Can't he see the bird?"
"Oh, you bet he can. He's not missing anything, that old cat. He's got his eye on her all right. But he's not going to move and give the game away. Now we'll just watch them the once more and then we'll be getting on, shall we?"
The three in uniform came up. One of them, a tall fair-complexioned young man, slowed in his walk and stopped. "Look at this," he.said. "Did you ever see anything like it?"
"Like what?" asked the older of the two with him.
"That tower."
"Just a water-tower they thought they might as well do in the same style. A bit sinister, I agree."
The sound of the aircraft grew in volume sharply. The cat ran off towards a tree growing beside the path. Just when the girl turned and looked at the tall young man it was as if the sun went out for an instant. He flinched and drew in his breath almost with a cry.
"God, did you feel that?"
"I'll say I did. I thought I'd had a stroke or something."
"It was like the passing of the shadow of death," said the third man.
"But what it really was was the passing of the shadow of a passenger aircraft. Look, it'll cross that slope in a second. There."
"Thank Christ for that," said the tall young man. "I really felt like, you know, a fly when the swatter comes down. Gave me quite a turn."
He looked again at the girl, who was not looking at him. The older woman, however, was, and unamiably.
"Come along, Mrs. Casement," she said with an abruptness she had not shown earlier. "We haven't got all night, dear. You're not the only one, you know."
The two groups diverged.
"I never took our James for a student of architecture, did you, Moti?" asked the senior of the three officers, a gaunt man wearing a major's crowns and a clergyman's collar and silk.
"Ah, there you have his well-known subtlety, padre. He was really admiring something far more worth a young man's while than cold stones, am I right, James?"
"Well, yes. I thought she was wonderful, didn't you? Extraordinary eyes. But sort of blank and frightened."
"Probably the shadow of that plane," said the clergyman. "It is scaring if you don't know what it is. It even got me until I remembered. I was quite used to it at one time."
"I should have said she was frightened already. But then who wouldn't be in a bloody place like this?"
The clergyman frowned. "It's got a pretty good reputation. I'm sure they all do what they can."
"By putting up this sort of thing, for instance?"
The pathway had broadened to a circle. In the middle was an ornamental pond, its stonework discolored and scabbed with moss, and in the center of this a plinth on which crouched a stone creature somewhat resembling a lion. Each of its claws became a thin stem ending in a flower shaped like a flattened bell, from which in turn protruded a kind of tongue with three points. The thin tail appeared to have been broken off short and the break filed smooth. From the smiling mouth there curled upwards a triple tongue with a small object, not certainly identifiable, at each point. Every inch of the surface had at one time been enameled with minute designs, but these were largely weathered away.
"A nice welcoming sort of chap to run into on your way in here," said the young man addressed as James. "I dreamt about him the other night."
"Good for you." The clergyman took him by the arm and drew him off towards a flight of stone steps that led up to the entrance of the building. "Is there anything like that in your part of the world, Moti?"
"Not that I know of? I'm thankful to say. We're a pretty morbid lot in our own fashion, but rather more direct. We leave that kind of thing to our yellow brethren. In fact I seem to remember seeing a photo of a gentleman somewhat resembling our friend, though minus the horticulture, standing in a palace at Peking or one of those places. An interesting sidelight."
They reached a paneled vestibule with notices on every hand, some pinned to the woodwork, others on small stands. Pre-Raphaelite Exhibition All This Month in Lecture-Room B, said one. Coach Excursion to St. Jerome's Priory: Names to Office by Friday Please, said another.
"What used to be at the end of his tail, do you think?"
The clergyman glared. "Come off it, James, for heaven's sake. What's the matter with you today? I could give you my theory about that, and back it up, but it wouldn't go too well with my cloth. And what do you care?"
"Oh, the respected cloth."
"Yes, the respected cloth. I know it's a bit threadbare in places, but it's all I've got. Now chin in, shoulders back, arms swung as high as the waist-belt to front and rear and get set to cheer him up. That reminds me-give me that cake."
A small parcel was passed from hand to hand as they walked down the dip of a corridor that rose again out of sight.
"Intimations of infinity," said the officer called Moti, taking in this effect. "Highly therapeutic."
"Oh, look at this," said the clergyman after a moment. "The Army's here. I detect the hand of Captain Leonard. Applied, as you might expect, a little late in the day."
They approached a recessed double door outside which a young NCO was rising to his feet from a folding chair. Before him was a card-table on which lay an open foolscap notebook and a couple of technical manuals.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," he said, coming smartly to attention. "You wish to visit Captain Hunter, I take it?"
"Yes, if the Army Council has no objection. What the devil are you doing here? I mean it's nice to see you, Fawkes, but what are you in aid of?"