So, not even you know         who controls? 

Who does know then?

        The Controller, as such. Though some  

        do not know that entity by that name.

What other names are there?

        Names? They are multitudinous  

        and essentially unimportant.

Sooo, infinite, then. I mean, an infinite number of names.

        Hardly. No thing is infinite.

Right. Well, how about a few examples just between... 

lower entities, as such.

        You            (The Arachnid eases forward) 

        joke?         (Leans close so that all eight eyes can carefully assess)

Whoah, no,         I mean, yes,         I mean  

not so in my face - O.K.?

        Eight eyes refuse to withdraw. 

        Eight eyes stellarscope. 

        Flash-meld-focus. 

        Look into my eyes, Harper - all of them.

        Drink   deep       deeper           DEEPEST.

.

One eye fractals impossibly back........... back........... back........... 

encompasses worlds of colour        whirlpooling light and matter

but no sound.        

They are planets....         no...         galaxies  

no         universes and...  

something beyond them         swirling molecules

cloud-bouillabaisse

matter-spatterings        the beginning and the Ending.

        Do you begin to understand?        Anything?

Harper is silent, attempting to break free to...

The second eye seems to corkscrew flange 

                                                                        and flare 

a tentacle-pupil bud-studded with nubbled protuberances. 

It spirals eerily.  

What are those capsules         those pocketed packages? 

Harper gasps. 

They are         they are 

miniscule entities         embryos 

species that he recognises but more 

innumerable those he         cannot         identify  

and fronding flora         flowering plants  

coning, vining, rooting, branching, tendriling  life    Life       LIFE.

Harper groans wretchedly but cannot rend eyes away 

they are harpooned.

        Do you begin to understand?

Nonononononononononononononononononono.

A third eye seems to black hole light. 

Don't look, don't look, his mind desperate-dictates 

Implores: 

don't fall-fall-fall in-in don't-don-don-don- f-f-f-f-f- - - - - - -  

Sweet-release!  

Head elastic-snaps-back. 

Eyes feel skinned as if blood-crusted bandage has been ripped  

away 

and oWoWoOoOwoWoooo ohhh

the agony. 

Nomorenomorenomore Noooooo.................. 

but the arachnid ejected false         pity  

aeons ago.  

Two stiletto-clawed tips menacing-tap.

        Open your eyes, Harper. Open or lose them.

The fourth eye  

ssssseeeeaaaarrrrssss. 

Ahhhhhhhh LLLiiiiiiiiiight  

Light that grinds like driving sandstorm grit 

Knuckle-stabs like sharded         broken-ended bottles. 

No more please         Harper whimpers 

please        no more. 

                                Red lights dance at the corners of sight. 

The fourth eye strobes 

his mind is         white         ash.

Fifth this is, now. 

Can man tolerate more?

        Almost done, Harper, almost done. (the taloned grip withdraws)

And now  

there is blue-green-aquamarine  

crystal and tannined         silvered and muddied         turquoise and blacked. 

Dark, deep, treacherous, whoooooorled.  

Waves that    cor  ru  gate 

rise and roar and foam and crash and tidal-pull 

curtains that churn,      that waterfall-plunge and echo and thunder-bark 

and maelstrom, tendoning down,   down,   down 

so that Harper sways  

        leans forward 

evacuates what water and solids  

squelch-stomach-held.

        Steady there, Harper, not long now.

Steady indeed, for now there is  

earth. 

Sand-loam-subsistent         fecund-wormcasted-soil 

tawny         rich         fertile         porous        

blue-white and limed  

and tenacious with mulched matter         yellowed and greened 

filaments  

        that entwine 

a joyous         s n a k i n g         unity  

as if all roots of the worlds under-laced and         overlapped-danced 

a sublime interchange.

Harper slumps forward 

is caught.

        There now, little man.

Seven, seven, seven 

second to last 

and this eye incinerates all that is         spurious. 

It is   fire     FIRE      F I R E 

a tangling of tongues, crimson and violet-rose 

hot, insistent desire 

beaked   and   filigreed   and   feathered 

vortexing, coiling, curling 

tempting and swirling, congealing 

flamed latticework that choreographs crucifixion  

fiery birds that swoop-sizzle-soar then phoenix.

        Ahhhh, last you have lasted 

        seven, well done little man.

And now comes that most haunting of all 

an eye holding nothing 

no image none 

and yet 

and yet 

something comes forth. 

Sound        it is a         noise         a whistling, a whispering, a wet-lipped tooting. 

A rushing, a drain-piping, a cycloning roar. 

A jettisoning         tornadoing         spiralling WIND. 

A rattling, terrorising, coiling         noth...........ing.

Is this the END? Harper shrieks, then screams defiance - argggghhh.

Sssssssssssssssiiiiiiiiiiiillllllllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnnnccccccccccccceeeeeeeeee

        Yes, this is the end.