‘Get on with it, son. Tell me about what you’re eating these days.’
‘There’s no point. You wouldn’t understand it. Not even the simplest principles.’
‘I don’t want to fucking understand it, Collins. I just want to hear it from your mouth. I just want to know that I’ve been receiving my information correctly.’
Collins shrugged.
‘I live on God. It’s as simple as that. There’s really no other way to explain it. It looks like breathing and taking in light but really what I’m doing is eating God.’
Collins’s eye contact softened. It disturbed Magnus. No one had ever looked at him that way before. What was it, sympathy? Empathy? Compassion?
‘I wish you could experience it, Mr. Magnus.’
So, now he’s all deference, thought Magnus. What kind of nutter is this bloke?
‘There’s no experience like it in the world. I know it would change the way you felt about everything if you just gave it a try. That’s the beauty of it. Anyone, anyone at all, can do it. It’s so simple. It’s the reason I’m not afraid of you. The reason I’m not afraid to die.’
Magnus took his time composing an answer. There was a lot to say about the man’s views. A lot of roads a thinking man’s mind could go down. Magnus didn’t like to think too much. He preferred action. Action was the measure of a man. So far, Collins was all chat. His bizarre mission in the lock-up was chat and everything that had taken place between them in the office was chat. The difference between them was that Magnus had taken action. He’d sent his boys to find Collins and he’d brought him here. When their tête-à-tête was complete, Magnus would follow through on all his threats, make deeds of his words. Right now, even Collins’s challenge for a fight was no more than words and Magnus was fairly sure the man was merely trying to buy himself some time.
For all the rubbish coming out of Collins’s mouth however, there was something about him that didn’t seem mad, so much as misdirectedly inspired. A man like Collins, if he’d had his way, could have changed people’s minds about almost anything. Magnus was glad he’d stopped him now rather than waiting until he had some kind of revolution on his hands. Collins had something. It wasn’t simple insanity. Some of his words had penetrated Magnus’s defences. Right now he was considering them. Something of the man on his knees in front of him had lodged in his mind.
Magnus’s mind was strong, though. No one, not Collins, not anyone, was going to steamroller their way into his head and change his thinking. And yet… there was something here. There was something inside this man that he wanted to communicate with. Magnus wanted to talk. He was strong enough to talk just a little longer and not be swayed. There was something worth pursuing, just to put his curiosity to bed. Then he could carve Collins up and forget about him forever.
‘It’s a good thing I’m not a religious man,’ Magnus said. ‘Or I might have to point out you’re blaspheming. You contradict everything I know of the Book of Giving. The Father gave us His children to feast upon. He didn’t instruct us to try and eat Him directly.’
‘God is the only food there is. The only flesh. The only nourishment.’
Magnus shook his head, disappointed.
‘Don’t do this, Collins. Not to me. Don’t make yourself sound like the Parsons of the Welfare with their psychodrivel. Don’t preach to me like I’m some kind of idiot.’ Magnus sat down on the step in front of his titanic desk so that he was on a similar level to his prisoner. ‘I personally don’t believe a single word in the Gut Psalter or any other holy book. I’m not a stupid man. I know that keeping Parsons on the prowl is important. I know that keeping order is important. I know that rules are important and I know religion has a part to play. But I don’t give a shit about any of it and you ought to know that. The fact that I encourage readings from the Book of Giving in my stockyard and processing plants is merely a sign that I want things to be maintained, to run smoothly. The religion of the Welfare is an aid to business. Business comes before anything else in the world. Before love, before men and long before God.’ He stretched his neck from side to side easing the tension out of it. He was relaxing. ‘But what you’ve said to me is interesting. Interesting enough for me to want to understand a little more.’
He watched to see if Collins would relax too. He was sure that his generosity regarding Collins’s final moments of life would be well received. But Collins, if he felt any relief at knowing he had a few more minutes of life, showed no outward sign of it.
‘Tell me about eating God, Collins.’
‘What do you want to know?’
‘I want to understand what it means, if it means anything at all. I want to know how to do it.’
He saw Collins shake his head to himself, close his eyes momentarily.
‘What is it?’
‘I can’t show you. You of all people, who destroy the Chosen by their hundreds every day in the pursuit of wealth and dominance. Why should I tell you about any of it?’
‘Maybe I’ll change. Maybe you’ll convert me.’
Collins glanced sharply at him. Then his face melted and he laughed. Magnus laughed with him; loud, deep laughter. Bruno shifted, uncomfortable in his skin. Magnus ignored him.
The strange, too-loud laughter died quickly.
‘Do you really want to know?’ asked Collins, ‘Or are you just humouring me?’ His eyes found Magnus’s again, in a way that bypassed all authority. ‘Because I’m ready for the end right now. We don’t have to go through all this talking. I’ve said it a thousand times to as many people and, of all of them, you’re the least likely to take it on board. Any of it. Perhaps it would be more meaningful – for both of us – to proceed with my slaughter.’
‘Don’t you want your final scrap any more?’
‘It isn’t that important. I only wanted to prove a point to you. In the end, whether I make that point or not probably won’t make much difference. I’ve already made all the difference I’m going to make.’
‘We’ll do it all before the end, Collins, my old son. We’ll do it all. For now, I want to know all about it. I want to know what you’ve been telling everyone.’
Collins’s eyes closed, breaking the invisible beam that joined him to Magnus with such disrespect for their difference in station. Magnus took the moment to shake off the effect of the stare. He wanted to hear this but he had to stay strong. Not let this fractured messiah too far into his mind. He watched Collins and his over-dramatic pause before beginning his sermon. The man didn’t seem to be breathing. Magnus looked closer, watched his tent pole ribs and his sunken solar plexus for the rise and fall of respiration. There was nothing. So, he can hold his breath for a while, thought Magnus, so fucking what?
Collins opened his eyes.
‘The first thing you need to know is that it’s all lies. The town, the book, the Welfare. It’s nonsense. It’s like the corsets and girdles and make-up and hairspray that make a plain woman seem beautiful. Artful strokes with eyeliner and mascara to enhance a drab gaze, hot air and combs to tease lank hair into fullness, foundation and blusher to bring health and prominence to pale, sunken cheeks. Pencil and lipstick to shape and accentuate thin, passionless lips. Bone-ribbed underwear to make a figure where before there was shapeless dough. Tight bras to push up sagging breasts, pads to make small breasts larger. High heels to lengthen legs. Perfume to mask bodily odours, mouthwash to cover bad breath. Take it all away and what you are left with is this town: stripped of its shroud of lies; naked, ugly and rank.’
‘You seem to know the women of Abyrne very well, I must say,’ said Magnus, laughing. ‘I’ve had hundreds of them over the years and many match your description, I was disappointed to discover.’