Read Online LoveStar by Andri Snaer Magnason - Free Book Online Page B

LoveDeath, whatever strange ideas people had about religion or death. When Indian gurus were launched, they were fired with electrolyzed water from the Ganges. When popes and bishops were launched, holy water was used, while Faroese oil barons were launched in monster spacecrafts driven by the crude oil that they had brought with them in tankers.
    A large number of countries around the world wanted to offer LoveDeath and share in its operations, but the patent was held by the LoveStar corporation and no one could compete with the facilities at the LoveStar theme park in Oxnadalur. The deserts and reservoirs in the highlands and the immense heaving sea around the country made it unlikely that unsuccessful launches would land on towns or cities. The deciding factors were the inexhaustible reserves of clean, renewable energy and an endless supply of fresh water to split into hydrogen and oxygen, and then the rest was simple: Electrolysis! Load! Fire!
    When the hydrogen burned there was no foul reek, only a clear water vapor that formed a mist on the northern moors. Although people were launched into the sky from the peaks around Oxnadalur, the stars could fall to earth anywhere on the planet. All around the globe convoys of vehicles wound up hills and mountains, and people sat silent and thoughtful around crackling campfires waiting for their loved ones to fall to earth in a blaze.

DON’T BREATHE
    LoveStar sat in the plane, taking care not to crush the seed. He opened his hand and held it from him like dust that you mean to blow away, yet he hardly dared breathe in the direction of the seed.
    He had become isolated from other people in the company lately. Almost the only people he had contact with were Ivanov, head of LoveDeath, and Yamaguchi, head of the Bird and Butterfly Division. Nowadays he saw little of the heads of other departments; they had made themselves comfortable on Pacific islands. He met them only at video conferences, but in recent weeks he had not bothered with most meetings. Now he was quite out of touch with the world. No film clip on the lens, no music in his ears. He looked at the seed with his naked eye.
    He knew what ideas were making the rounds at the Mood Division and knew better than anyone that nothing can stop an idea. He was confident in his ability to stand up to them, but what would they do with the seed when he was dead? What should he do with the seed himself? He had been responsible for the search and expected to find a cave, ancient artifact, mountain, mound, pool. But a seed? What does one do with a seed? What would germinate from this seed?
    A seed becomes a tree?
    A seed becomes a flower?
    All as the one flower.
    The search for what turned out to be a seed had taken seven years. Over the last few months LoveStar had spent most days at the office, waiting for the search party’s reports. He did calculations to keep his brain working. He had to keep his mental pathways open. He drew patterns or a landscape. Always similar patterns and the same landscape. When he was in the grip of an idea he generally tried to preserve his mental health by doing calculations or drawing. Drawing was a form of meditation or overflow, an outlet for an unborn idea. He was also a collector: in his youth he had collected samples of handwriting from everyone that he could get hold of, even from abroad, as well as knucklebones from every kind of land animal, otoliths from every species of fish, and wings from every kind of bird, and the office was crammed with all these things. He had a yellow or fluorescent ring round his pupils, which shone in the dark like cat’s eyes. He looked out over the unspoilt Oxnadalur valley. The office had a 360° view with windows on all sides, yet seen from the outside it was a black lava peak.
    LoveStar’s collecting mania had cranked up. He collected the world. He never acknowledged the fact himself, saying the world wanted to come to him. Above the valley hovered a