Daryl stared at the table. “Even if I believe everything you said, it makes no difference.”
Karkov was busy searching for another cigarette and appeared not to be paying attention. After locating one, his eyes returned to Daryl.
“Perhaps, but you don’t believe me — at least not on this account. I have no means to convince you. It is much easier to prove possibility than impossibility, and I’d have no grand desire to go to the trouble even if I could.”
“I will say this, though,” he added. “I know better than anyone how difficult she is to kill. When I buried her, I did not wish to see her suffer. I merely wished to kill her.”
“How noble of you.”
Karkov burst into laughter, almost dropping his cigarette in the process. “Yes, that does make me sound like the ideal husband, doesn’t it.”
After recovering himself, he explained. “I had to kill her for reasons that would only sound disingenuous to a mortal of a different era. I’ll just say this, not in defense of myself, but so you can begin to comprehend the danger she poses to you and humanity. Rin can create immortals. An unlimited number of them. And each has protections, probably at the level of the fundamental laws of the universe. What happens when these collide? When an immovable object meets an unstoppable force?”
Daryl looked confused.
Karkov scoffed. “This so-called paradox has been around for ages, and the fallacy is easy to spot. Two such things logically cannot coexist. It’s like saying ‘A’ and ‘not A’ both are true. The problem is that Rin’s magic has given the question new meaning.”
“So, logic no longer applies?” Despite far more pressing concerns, Daryl found himself infected by Karkov’s vehemence.
“If that were the case, we probably couldn’t reason about it at all. After all, logic is what we use to do so. However, that does remain a distinct possibility. It is the nature of magic not to make sense, which is just a way of saying it doesn’t fit into our assumptions about the universe. Fortunately, it may not be necessary to make that leap. There are other possibilities — ones we can reason about. More or less.”
“You mean both such objects could exist?”
“Suppose an unstoppable force and an immovable object both do exist. What makes one unstoppable and the other immovable? That there is no possible way to stop or move them, or that nothing ever does stop or move them? It may sound like a semantic distinction — and it usually is — but it could be the crux of the matter here. The universe has only one realization. If they never meet during its life, then is there a contradiction? In that case, perhaps Rin’s protections can coexist without conflict or any need to speculate on what might have happened.”
“But how could we be sure they never would run into one another?” Daryl wondered aloud.
“Well, that is the question. Either the universe somehow already orders itself so such a conflict never arises, or it must revise itself to accommodate it when it does. This is one source of danger. Immortals only are eternal forward, not backward. Each time one was created, the laws of the universe changed in some fashion — but probably only in one direction. The more immortals, the more such cataracts. Each time, the laws grew more complicated. Think of a legal framework which begins as a simple set of general principles but subsequently is amended to make provision for various complex, highly-specific situations. It quickly becomes an unnavigable chaos of rules and regulations. The more immortals, the more such contingencies and the greater the chance of conflict.”
“So what would happen if a contradiction arose?” Daryl wasn’t sure whether it was the topic itself or just the welcome departure from Karkov’s regimen of threats and warnings, but he found the present conversation oddly calming.
Karkov shook his head. “Nobody knows. That’s the point. What would the universe do when confronted with irreconcilable constraints? Mathematically, there is no solution. But Rin’s spheres act at the boundary between logic and magic. What happens when a logically ordered universe is compelled to operate according to other principles? Perhaps it will cease to be, or will never have been. Or maybe it will remove all trace of Rin and me and the immortals from itself — both forward and backward. But the consequences could be disastrous. Maybe they already have been. Those who dwell in a universe have no way of knowing whether that universe has changed — or how often.”
“Rin was producing immortals with abandon. She did it for the smallest advantage, or sometimes on a whim. Worse, she was making higher and higher numbers. This increased the danger of conflict. My own Sixteen was an abomination.”
Daryl scoffed. “Yet you have it. I suppose it was mere coincidence you prevented anyone else from being your equal?”
“You may suppose what you will. I already told you I am not defending my actions. But the danger was real, and there was no way to stop her. My admonitions met with … well, you know Rin. She was no gentler back then, even with me. I loved her but could not prevail upon her. She would not see the danger she was creating. But she was only a Four, which afforded me another way to stop her. It was a terrible choice.”
“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”
Karkov grimaced. “That would be revolting for both us. No, no, by all means, keep hating me. But you should understand why it was done, whatever you think of the rest.”
“Are you saying this to alienate me? To make me think she is the enemy of humanity? What do I care about humanity? I’ve never met humanity. I’ve only met individual people, and most of those I could do without. Rin is worth all of humanity.”
“But you want to kill her,” Karkov laughed. “Though I do agree with your assessment.”
Daryl shrugged. “We each must do what we must do.”
“That’s a pathetic cop-out, but I don’t care. I’m not here to lend credence to your purpose. And no, I did not say this to alienate you. There are two reasons I told you all this. The first is that Rin’s present reason for hunting immortals probably is the same as my one for burying her. This is good, since she clearly could not be stopped if she chose to make more immortals. Fortunately she won’t. It also means she finally understood the danger I had implored her to consider.”
“That’s fascinating. Why do I care if you have the same reason?” Daryl replied with a touch of irritability.
Karkov paid his petulance no mind and smiled. “It also lends justice to your cause. Not the cause of killing Rin, but of helping her. Whatever you think of humanity, they are a small part of the universe. You are furthering the good of the universe, if such a thing has meaning. Every time you murder a immortal, you are protecting the world. There, now I’ve made a saint and a savior of you. Aren’t you grateful?”
“And the second reason?” Daryl asked, ignoring the rest. He had only a vague notion what Karkov was talking about and hoped the other reason would be easier to grasp. Not that it mattered. Daryl was pretty sure Karkov just was searching for ways to cast Rin as a villain.
“What matters is that I could not kill her back then, even when she was a Four. It wasn’t from want of trying. I should have been able to, but I could not. I still wonder about that. And now she is far beyond a Four.”
“You failed, so I should assume I will?” Daryl replied, teetering on the edge of sarcasm before he remembered his present danger.
Karkov did not seem to notice. “Think what you will. All I am saying is that she cannot be destroyed.”
Suddenly he leaned in and clasped Daryl’s forearm, staring at him intently. “If I were a child attempting the impossible, I’d pay close attention to the words of the only person who really tried it.”
“Would you?” Daryl asked, his tone one of genuine curiosity rather than mockery.
“No, I suppose not,” Karkov replied with a sigh. He surveyed Daryl. “You are like a younger me.”
“Am I supposed to be flattered?” Daryl ventured, unsure how to reply to such a thing.
Karkov snorted. “God no.”
He prepared to ash out his cigarette but stopped. “The younger me was a total idiot. I hate the younger me. That fool did only one thing right, and it was precisely what everybody blamed him for. What sort of moron does something like that? I wish I could go back and beat some sense into him.”
He offered Daryl a mischievous grin. “I could do the next best thing.”
A long silence followed, during which Karkov appeared to be lost in thought. Whether he was contemplating making good on the threat or pondering something altogether different was unclear. When he spoke it was in a surprisingly avuncular manner.
“You wouldn’t be a fool to ignore me. For all my assurance, I only pretend to still know Rin. My time with her was thousands of years ago, and my knowledge since then is hearsay. I believe she remains the Rin I knew. But the Rin I knew never wantonly murdered her friends. I have to confess that this new Rin may be a mystery to me. But somewhere inside, buried behind god knows how many protections, is the old Rin. The Rin I love.”
He gave Daryl a maudlin smile. “Sometimes I wonder if the real purpose of her sphere is to protect her from loving me back.”
This sounded rather narcissistic to Daryl, but something prevented him from saying so. For the first time since they met, he saw uncertainty in Karkov’s eyes. He felt an impulse to console the old man, though he realized how absurd that would seem. Surely even one such as Karkov desired the occasional kindness. Before Daryl could decide, Karkov broke the silence. His voice had shed its melancholy and now was clear and businesslike.
“I’ve said what I came to say. Anything more would be beneath the dignity of a king. You’re free to make your own choice.”
Karkov rose, decisively ashing out the cigarette.
“You’re letting me go?” Daryl’s disbelief was palpable.
“We seem to be going in circles here,” Karkov sighed. “Yes, but not yet. If I free you in your current state of ignorance and confusion, you’ll just run to Rin like a good little puppy, and promptly get yourself killed. I told you I would save your life.”
“She can’t be convinced,” Daryl warned. “I learned that with Sree.” Even as he uttered them, he realized how injudicious his choice of words was.
Karkov smiled. “I never had any illusion that she could. I am married to her. No, she’s not the one I’m going to convince.”
“So, you’re going to risk your immortal life just to save me?” Daryl asked, still incredulous and failing to take his meaning. “You were going to kill me a few moments ago.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Karkov chuckled. “Saving you is just a fringe benefit.”
“Of what?”
Karkov banged on the door, and it opened. Turning, he smiled.
“I’ll get to see my lovely wife. I have missed her so.”