Chapter Ten: Altered States

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Gwalior, India, 1876:

For the third month, Jack dedicated himself to sex as determinedly as he had, a few weeks ago, dedicated himself to fighting and drinking. 

He still kept up with the drinking, though. He didn't, at any point, want to feel lucid about what he was doing.

But some conclusions were inescapable. It was obvious even through the drunken haze that sex was not what it used to be. He couldn't find the satisfaction he was used to feeling. Every orgasm was a dark, angry, underwhelming shudder. They made him feel tired, but not satisfied.

He told himself it was something that would go away in time. He was angry and upset – of course he wasn't going to enjoy things as much as he used to.

But, at the back of his mind, he wondered whether it had always been like this. Maybe the only reason sex hadn't seemed disappointing before he'd met Ellini was because he hadn't known, back then, what he was missing. Certainly, when he had first gone to bed with her, it had been like discovering an extra storey on the house of pleasure – an attic-room that he'd never known was there before, filled with silky-soft furnishings and breathtaking views, from which you could look down and pity the poor wretches who were only eating chocolate cake or smoking opium.

He and Myrrha didn't talk much. She disappeared during the day, for some nefarious purpose of her own, but they met up at night and almost wordlessly tore each others' clothes off in a fruitless quest for satisfaction.

During this whole month of stifling luxury and boredom, he heard from Joel in Lucknow only twice – once to say that he had accepted the Lieutenant-governor's invitation to the 'peace-talks', and once to say that Violet had disappeared. Since no money had disappeared with her, Joel presumed she had been taken against her will, and wondered whether Jack wanted to instigate search proceedings.

He had ignored both messages.

And, every day, he stood out on the battlements and wondered whether Robin was coming. Did he still care enough about Myrrha to be angry? Would he come charging over the hill with that long-handled knife of his, to try and add another notch to it?

But, of course, he didn't. Why would he? Why would you bother to go anywhere – do anything – when you could stay at home in bed with Ellini? Why would you switch that dark, gentle goddess for somebody like Myrrha, who was all bones and spite?

It was over. There was literally no way to feel better. Punching other people and pretending they were Robin was as unsatisfying as sleeping with other women and pretending they were Ellini. 

Well, if he was dead anyway, he might as well make a point.

On his thirtieth day in Gwalior, he left the palace without saying goodbye to anyone, and rode back to Lucknow, where he found Joel in the Council Chamber of the Chattar Manzil, poring gloomily over his correspondence.

"Certain death, is it?" said Jack, throwing himself into a seat opposite his old friend. "Count me in."

Joel hesitated. He took off his glasses, and then put them on again, pushing them nervously up the bridge of his nose. "Look, I know things seem bad right now--"

"Oh, they do," said Jack fervently. "Oh, my word, yes."

"But it's going to get easier. You'll stop missing h--"

"Shut up, Joel," said Jack, with a smile that wrenched at his cheek muscles. "Shut up. I do not want to talk about it. If it ever seemed to you that I wanted to talk about it, you were mistaken. Besides, you need me. You think the Lieutenant-governor's interested in killing you? If you go alone to these peace talks, they'll probably degenerate into tea and biscuits. I'm the one he wants to kill. I make him angry, and angry people do stupid things. I should know, I'm doing this. If you want to make an impact – if you want the world to notice – you're going to have to bring me along."

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