Chapter two
Selby sat in McDiemen's waiting room, an intolerably warm room that left him sticky and uncomfortable with sweat.
One minute he was prickling with heat, the next the sweat froze on his brow.
His muscles ached and cramped, and his stomach hurt.
His back pained him terribly, and try as he might, he could not find a comfortable position.
Sitting down was uncomfortable, but standing up was worse.
One moment he made up his mind to leave, to flee the building as quickly as he could, the next he held on to a hope that somehow he could plead his case and find some way of escaping punishment.
He dug the ticket he had received from his pocket, and looked again at the letter "M'' that began its reference number.
Somehow it seemed to lend an awful weight to an offence which he could not clearly visualise, but which seemed fractured somewhere in the back of his mind.
He felt there was clearly a set of circumstances he had unwittingly become involved in, quite beyond his control, that led him to this position, and surely if McDiemen understood his situation he could go free.
As he considered the matter, and tried to form an argument that would adequately explain his situation, he gradually became aware of a presence next to him, a dark mass that slowly resolved itself into the form of a man.
Selby froze in his seat and stared into two small circles of blackness that glinted and swam; and found himself held by the gaze of McDiemen.
McDiemen placed his hand on Selby's knee.
He was a tall man, his face sharp, yet elegant; his cheekbones were high and his visage a bloodless white.
His eyes were both patient and, at the same time, judgemental.
"Ahhh well,'' he said. "You come to me about your ticket.''
McDiemen stood.
"I know that terrible letter that precedes its reference number.
"I can try to help, but certainly we need to think calmly, we mustn't agitate our souls, so to speak, or things could continue to go very badly.''
McDiemen spoke softly, but his words merely served to frighten Selby further.
Again escape leapt to the forefront of his mind, but something about McDiemen's physique, the way his clothing hung off what was a surprisingly muscular frame, and the speed and dexterity of his movements gave Selby a most intense feeling of vulnerability and impotence.
"Come, come now,'' McDiemen said, clearly reading the turmoil written across his face, "you are fearful, and that is normal. Come into my office and we will distract ourselves a moment, better to face the issue at hand with equanimity.''
Selby found himself following McDiemen through a door, deeper into the building to a small windowless room with a desk atop which were neatly laid out manila folders, each colour-coded and with a reference number beginning with "M'' stamped on the top right corner.
On the right hand side of the desk sat a shoebox, the edges of its lid well-worn from use.
"Ah,'' said McDiemen, "here is something we can consider for a moment, something that will surely give you time to compose yourself and ponder what lies ahead.''
"You know,'' he said, "I'm rather fond of making models.
"I like the discipline of engineering on a small scale, the smooth functioning of cogwheels and the coming together of angles and whatnot that produces a finished product.''
He lifted from the shoebox a device unlike anything Selby had seen before; it appeared to be a series of mirrors attached to a central hub, each with tiny pistons and camshafts and connecting rods that kept them slowly turning, reflecting in each other the mirror image of themselves.
"I believe this'' McDiemen said proudly yet confidentially, "to be the only model in existence that accurately represents the concept of infinity.''
Selby was drawn to the tiny machine as it moved, and found himself almost involuntarily staring into the mirrors as they turned, taking in reflection upon reflection, repeated one thousand, one million times, reflections multiplying back on themselves at a sickeningly rapid rate as each mirror rose and fell across its axis.
The side of his head still burning horribly, and the sense of discomfort racking his body and guilt his mind, Selby looked at the device in horror as McDiemen's voice began to dance on the edge of his consciousness.
"I should perhaps have warned you not to look into the device if you are suffering from any malady,'' McDiemen said.
"For here on Earth no pain is forever; the worst sort of suffering has at least a time limit, either from relief of symptoms or the relief of unconsciousness, or even the luxury of death.
"But imagine as you see the reflections extending, doubling back on themselves and redoubling their multiplications endlessly to both the past and the future, the hopelessness of a tortured forever.
"Imagine eternity.
"Imagine an eternity with no hope of relief, all hope gone an eternity ago and only the reality of suffering and darkness and despair.
"And each second those mirror images reflect and keep reflecting an infinity of times, and your terrible sentence keeps getting longer and longer.
"Of course physical torment is just one aspect,'' he said.
"Imagine the pain of guilt and shame for having committed a transgression that placed you in this state, a crime you knew you should not have committed, but which you committed all the same.
"Imagine the torment of regret that never ends; regret for doing that which has consigned you to this horror.
"But imagine after an eternity of this torment, another begins, and it has no ending; there is just endless loneliness and suffering and unbearable pain.''
Selby heard these words somewhere in the distance as he stared into an abyss of unimaginable horror.
He began to flail his arms as if to keep from falling irrevocably - as he felt he was - into that terrible place, and was saved from losing all his faculties and giving himself up to unmitigated panic only by the firm hand of McDiemen on his shoulder.
"My friend, my friend'', McDiemen said, "you see just a model, a trinket I have developed in my spare time; just a bauble, a curio. You should not let it unhinge you so.''
Selby could barely speak, and as he desperately searched the room for an exit, for somewhere to run, he realised with horror the door through which he had entered was no longer to be seen; instead the four walls that encased him were smooth and flat.
He stared wide-eyed at
McDiemen and said: "I need to leave.''
"I have a family; a wife, a child. I've been sick,'' he said, "I must go.''
McDiemen shifted some of the folders on the desk, and sat down on its edge, his eyes briefly closing before they reopened and looked directly at Selby.
"Ahhh, if only that were possible,'' he said. "If it were up to me, immediate freedom might be exactly what would transpire, under the circumstances.
"But once the investigation has started certain procedures must be followed, certain processes of the law, so to speak, must be satisfied.''
Selby put his hands to his head, feeling again the burning sensation that had been a torture to him in the background of his consciousness.
His fingers danced across the edge of his face and settled on a tiny wet cavity he felt on the side of his head.
"I must go,'' he cried, "I need help, this is not my doing'', and looking in desperation around the room he finally perceived a tiny opening between the wall and the floorboards he felt certain he could squeeze through.
In a panicked rush he dived towards the skirting board, breaking the edges of his fingernails as he dragged himself through the tiniest gap, his legs flailing and pushing at the wall's edge, his mind a turmoil of dread McDiemen would grab those vulnerable extremities and drag him back.
But that did not happen.
Instead he merely heard McDiemen's voice, quietly and gently crooning as he spoke: "Your doing, Selby, now there is a concept.
"Your doing, my friend, only you and your God may understand.
"Doing is as doing does.''
But Selby was gone, through the tiny gap and into the wall cavity.
He found himself pressed tight against the timber framing, and with bloodied fingers he clawed at the insulation, tearing back the fibres and kicking through the wall until he could see beyond it and through into a murky gloom to which his eyes could only partially adjust, and his being only partially ascertain.
He dragged his body through and tumbled out the other side, falling forward down a rocky bank and into frozen water that shocked the breath from his lungs.
He knelt gasping in the salty water and looked up, and to his surprise and terror found himself staring at a row of giant teeth, enormous jagged molars jutting from the earth and thrusting their discoloured, chiselled enamel at the heavens.
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