Tom drags Saul back to his room.<\/p>\n
He shows him the unfinished hammer shaft of science. (This isn\u2019t any kind of euphemism. It\u2019s the shaft of an unfinished hammer. Of science!<\/p>\n
It smashes outcomes into the desired configuration.<\/p>\n
The outcome-smashing part is actually easy. It\u2019s explaining the desired <\/em>part that\u2019s hard!)<\/p>\n \u201cMay I?\u201d asks Saul.<\/p>\n \u201cIf you can.\u201d<\/p>\n Tom watches as Saul heaves at the shaft a few times. Result: failure!<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s heavy, \u201d Saul admits, with a sigh.<\/p>\n \u201cI started thinking, \u2018Tom, you\u2019re just going to integrate it into the boot\u2019s systems anyway, you might as well optimize it for a low-G environment.\u2019 But now I can\u2019t lift it at all. It is,\u201d Tom says, and waves his hand in a Tom-wroth gesture, \u201can unfortunate circumstance; I shall have to construct some sort of hammer-lifting machine when I arrange for its transport up. Also it is very sharp.\u201d<\/p>\n Tom pricks his finger with the tip of the unfinished hammer shaft of science, in demonstration. His finger starts bleeding.<\/p>\n That wasn\u2019t the desired configuration at all!<\/p>\n \u201cWell,\u201d says Saul. \u201cThat is beside the point of why I have bumped into you accidentally in the halls.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s certainly true,\u201d says Tom. \u201cAnd the answer is no. I refuse. I will not do it. I will not re-hat you. Hatting you once was trouble enough already! I had to use my bees! Besides, there is no point. You are already one thing. You are already the <\/em>one thing that you are. If wearing the hat again could change that, then I, who has worn it over and over again since the beginning, would already be crawling mutant chaos gibbering and drooling in the void. Or God! But certainly not still just Tom. Look at these human hands. They\u2019re so warm-blooded! You disappoint me, Saul. Surely even a saint can count to two!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI was one thing,\u201d says Saul, stubbornly, \u201cbut I might have changed to be another.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRidiculous,\u201d says Tom. \u201cIf you could change, then you wouldn\u2019t be one thing. That is what it means to be one: to be perfect, and not imperfect. And only the imperfect can evolve. Scissors can evolve and become papers. Papers, into rocks. But we, we wear our hats and we are solitary and we are one thing and we are vast.\u201d<\/p>\n Tom turns away.<\/p>\n He strokes the edge of his marvelous desktop computer monitor in sorrow.<\/p>\n \u201cI liked your music,\u201d he says. \u201cYou know. You disappointed me greatly. I still have not forgiven you for choosing to be a saint.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI did not choose,\u201d says Saul. \u201cAnd further, I\u2019m not<\/em> the same.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve learned from my experiences,\u201d says Saul. \u201cThat which does not change, does not learn. That which does not learn, does not remember. If I were incapable of changing, then I would still believe it to be the night you gave me hat.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHa! A glimmer of intellectual competence,\u201d says Tom. \u201cBut, as so often happens, a little reason is a dangerous thing. Saul, you\u2019re not changing.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re a fixed point.<\/p>\n \u201cYou do not learn; you do not remember; you are one thing. Memory and learning move to you.<\/em> The world shows you different faces; you show it different faces; this is as natural as light refracting differently through each of a crystal\u2019s different sides.<\/p>\n \u201cConsider your sainthood as like unto a perspective drawing made in chalk upon the roadway: look from here, it is a perfect image; look from there, it is a distorted and ugly design, but in every case it is the same pattern of chalk upon the road, unchanging, eternal, like a diamond, like the void. That is why I myself may not regret \u2014\u201d<\/p>\n Saul interrupts him with a raised hand.<\/p>\n \u201cI accept it;\u201d Saul says. \u201cIt is impossible.\u201d<\/p>\n Tom\u2019s shoulders settle. He looks down.<\/p>\n \u201cI can only hope to blatantly grovel to your superior intellect,\u201d says Saul; \u201cand to pander to your hubris, and pray that you can make the impossible possible; that you can transcend reality with the power of the House of Dreams. That your genius, alone in all this world, can extract me from this inextricable sainthood into which I have made myself entangled.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cImpossible,\u201d says Tom.<\/p>\n His lower left eyelid twitches, though. He\u2019s always wanted somebody to blatantly grovel to his superior intellect and pander to his hubris in hopes of making the impossible possible, and here it\u2019s one of his ex-favorite musicians.<\/p>\n \u201cIt can\u2019t be done,\u201d says Tom. \u201cIf it were that easy then the Devil would be doing it to all the saints. If it were that easy then the world wouldn\u2019t need anybody to do science, it would just all align itself like filings on a magnet into the perfect shape.\u201d<\/p>\n Saul looks helplessly at Cheryl.<\/p>\n She considers.<\/p>\n \u201cNothing,\u201d she concedes, finally, reluctantly, \u201cis impossible for the House of Dreams.\u201d<\/p>\n Tom\u2019s mouth works.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s true,\u201d he says, softly, sadly. \u201cIt is not impossible for me. I am Thomas the First. But I mustn\u2019t. I shouldn\u2019t. The very idea is wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPander,\u201d says Saul, attempting to provide a sound effect to an action he is not in any literal fashion performing. \u201cPander. Pander.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n Tom\u2019s eyelid twitches more. Then he stretches his hands to the sky and gives a hissing, growling outburst-scream.<\/p>\n He spins on Saul. He glares at him.<\/p>\n He points. He lowers his hand. He sighs.<\/p>\n \u201cI will do it,\u201d he says. \u201cYou have pandered excessively, yet not so excessively as to disgust me. And you have recruited my sidekick \u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRival,\u201d corrects Cheryl.<\/p>\n \u201cAssociate?\u201d<\/p>\n Cheryl ponders this. It makes her uncomfortable. \u201cColleague,\u201d she suggests.<\/p>\n \u201cYou have drawn my colleague into assisting you in this madness.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s hot,\u201d Cheryl concedes.<\/p>\n \u201cHe is not \u2018hot,\u2019 Cheryl,\u201d says Tom. \u201cGood lord. Look at him.\u201d<\/p>\n They look at him. After a while, Saul says, \u201cI could take off my shirt?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t be ridiculous,\u201d snaps Tom. \u201cShe is too young. Our \u2014 her eyes are too delicate for such perversity.\u201d<\/p>\n He turns away.<\/p>\n \u201cAt any rate,\u201d he says, \u201cI am pondering the matter. It seems that I must unfocus you. Set you to blurring. Divide you into a cloud of many forms.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWill it hurt?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen,\u201d says Tom, ignoring him, \u201cwhile you concentrate on making yourself a creature of science \u2014 a Lethal student worthy <\/em>of becoming an associate of my noble House \u2014 I will raise the hat above your head, like this!\u201d<\/p>\n Tom poses, raising the hat above Saul\u2019s head.<\/p>\n \u201cYou have a cap on under your hat,\u201d says Saul.<\/p>\n \u201cIt is so that I may pose dramatically like this without feeling the discomfort of hatlessness,\u201d Tom summarizes.<\/p>\n \u201cI see.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd then I will lower the hat,\u201d says Tom, putting his crowning hat back on, \u201cetcetera.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDoes the hat,\u201d says Saul. \u201cI mean, does the hat, the hat you have on underneath, is it, is it becoming one thing?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHats are not sentient,\u201d says Tom.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou shouldn\u2019t anthropomorphize hats,\u201d says Tom. \u201cThat way lies madness. They are not sentient. They are not beings. <\/em>Therefore, they are one thing already.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat has disturbing implications,\u201d says Saul.<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d concedes Tom. \u201cThe dead are one thing. The unliving are one thing. The Keepers are one thing. I am one thing. The implications throng! They haunt my dreams. But they are irrelevant under these circumstances. Stephan!\u201d Tom snaps his fingers. \u201cA crash of thunder, if you please.\u201d<\/p>\n Tom\u2019s roommate opens his mouth. A low boom of thunder rolls forth. He closes it.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd now,\u201d whispers Tom. \u201cThe dissolution.\u201d<\/p>\n He pulls open a drawer, dramatically. Inside are pins. They are mostly dead pins. Some of them are various awards that Tom has accumulated, such as the pins for his various honor societies. Others are stolen, bought, or found. He sifts through them, piles a few of them together, and solders them into a single, greater pin.<\/p>\n \u201cLo,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n He turns. He holds it out to Saul. Saul takes it, uncomfortably. It has become a single spear of gold.<\/p>\n \u201cPut it on,\u201d hints Tom.<\/p>\n Saul stares at it blankly. He cannot fathom how to put it on.<\/p>\n \u201cIt is a pin \u2014 oh, for the love of God,\u201d Tom says.<\/p>\n Tom takes the pin back. He tries to clip it to Saul\u2019s shirt. Saul finds himself stepping backwards. He is retreating. His movements are as elegant as a dancer\u2019s. He isn\u2019t even sure why. \u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d Saul says. His voice is tight, tense. \u201cWhat is that? Where am I? Why doesn\u2019t anybody enforce discipline at this school? I must not, Tom, this must not \u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStephan,\u201d snaps Tom.<\/p>\n Stephan stands up. He grasps Saul\u2019s arms from behind. He pins him. Saul struggles.<\/p>\n \u201cWait,\u201d Saul says. \u201cWait. Let\u2019s discuss this. We can negotiate. Please. I retract my consent. Stop, Tom. Please discuss this. I think I am going to hurl.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat is discus-ing<\/em>,\u201d Tom quarrels, and snaps the pin onto Saul\u2019s shirt, right through the skin. Thunder booms to drown out Saul\u2019s unfolding screams.<\/p>\n Tom raises up the hat.<\/p>\n He lowers it.<\/p>\n \u201cIt is done,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n He turns away. He pushes the button on his belt that summons his crowning hat back onto him. He does not even watch as Stephan releases Saul, who falls.<\/p>\n \u201cGet him out of here,\u201d says Tom.<\/p>\n \u201cHe may be a member of Dreams,\u201d argues Cheryl.<\/p>\n \u201cHe may also explode,\u201d says Tom, \u201cirradiating the surrounding countryside with efficacious spiritual toxins.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHm,\u201d Cheryl says. \u201cThat would be bad.\u201d<\/p>\n She takes Saul\u2019s wrists. She drags him out into the hall. She pushes him over to the window, folds the double-layered plexiglass out of the way into a M\u00f6bius twist, leans him out over the open frame, and she throws Saul down.<\/p>\n \u201cGood luck!\u201d she calls down after him.<\/p>\n He plunges into the rosebushes below.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Tom drags Saul back to his room. He shows him the unfinished hammer shaft of science. (This isn\u2019t any kind of euphemism. It\u2019s the shaft of an unfinished hammer. Of science! It smashes outcomes into the desired configuration. The outcome-smashing part is actually easy. It\u2019s explaining the desired part that\u2019s hard!) \u201cMay I?\u201d asks Saul. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":3399,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[40],"tags":[],"series":[50],"class_list":["post-5632","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-vidars-boot-chapter-5","series-vidars-boot"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/02\/Hat_1_blankbg.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5632","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=5632"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5632\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6071,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5632\/revisions\/6071"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/3399"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5632"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5632"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5632"},{"taxonomy":"series","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fseries&post=5632"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}