d gone,
"You know me?"
"Yes, chaplin. For I am Jan Olvegg, captain of the Star of India."
"Olvegg. That seems moderately impossible."
"True, nevertheless. I received this now ancient body the day Sam broke
the Lords of Karma at Mahartha. I was there."
"One of the First, and-- yes!-- a Christian!"
"Occasionally, when I run out of Hindi swear words."
Nirriti placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then your very being must ache
at this blasphemy they have wrought!"
"I'm none too fond of them-- nor they of me."
"I daresay. But of Sam-- he did the same thing-- compounding this
plurality of heresies-- burying the true Word even deeper . . ."
"A weapon, Renfrew," said Olvegg. "Nothing more. I'm sure he didn't
want to be a god any more than you or I."
"Perhaps. But I wish he had chosen a different weapon. If he wins their
souls are still lost."
Olvegg shrugged. "I'm no theologian, such as yourself . . ."
"But will you help me? Over the ages I have built up a mighty force. I
have men and I have machines. You say our enemies are weakened. My soulless
ones-- born not of man or woman-- they are without fear. I have sky
gondolas-- many. I can reach their City at the Pole. I can destroy their
Temples here in the world. I think the time is at hand to cleanse the world
of this abomination. The true faith must come again! Soon! It must be soon .
. ."
"As I said, I'm no theologian. But I, too, would see the City fall,"
said Olvegg. "I will help you, in any way I can."
"Then we will take a few of their cities and defile their Temples, to
see what action this provokes."
Olvegg nodded.
"You will advise me. You will provide moral support," said Nirriti, and
bowed his head.
"Join me in prayer," he ordered.
The old man stood for a long while outside the Palace of Kama in
Khaipur, staring at its marble pillars. Finally, a girl took pity on him and
brought him bread and milk. He ate the bread.
"Drink the milk, too, grandfather. It is nourishing and will help
sustain thy flesh."
"Damn!" said the old man. "Damn milk! And damn my flesh! My spirit,
also, for that matter!"
The girl drew back. "That is hardly the proper reply upon the receipt
of charity."
"It is not your charity to which I object, wench. It is your taste in
beverages. Could you not spare me a draught of the foulest wine from the
kitchen? . . . That which the guests have disdained to order and the cook
will not even slop over the cheapest pieces of meat? I crave the squeezings
of grapes, not cows."
"Perhaps I could bring you a menu? Depart! Before I summon a servant!"
He stared into her eyes. "Take not offense, lady, I pray. Begging comes
hard to me."
She looked into his pitch-dark eyes in the midst of a ruin of wrinkles
and tan. His beard was streaked with black. The tiniest smile played about
the corners of his lips.
"Well. . . follow me around to the side. I'll take you into the kitchen
and see what can be found. I don't really know why I should, though."
His fingers twitched as she turned, and his smile widened as he
followed, watching her walk.
"Because I want you to," he said.
Taraka of the Rakasha was uneasy. Flitting above the clouds that moved
through the middle of the day, he thought upon the ways of power. He had
once been mightiest. In the days before the binding there had been none who
could stand against him. Then Siddhartha the Binder had come. He had known
of him earlier, known of him as Kalkin and had known him to be strong.
Sooner or later, he had realized, they would have to meet, that he might
test the power of that Attribute which Kalkin was said to have raised up.
When they had come together, on that mighty, gone day when the mountaintops
had flared with their fury, on that day the Binder had won. And in their
second encounter, ages afterward, he had somehow beaten him even more fully.
But he had been the only one, and now he was gone from out the world. Of all
creatures, only the Binder had bested the Lord of Hellwell. Then the gods
had come to challenge his power. They had been puny in the early days,
struggling to discipline their mutant powers with drugs, hypnosis,
meditation, neurosurgery-- forging them into Attributes-- and across the
ages, those powers had grown. Four of them had entered Hellwell, only four,
and his legions had not been able to repel them. The one called Shiva was
strong, but the Binder had later slain him. This was as it should be, for
Taraka recognized the Binder as a peer. The woman he dismissed. She was only
a woman, and she had required assistance from Yama. But Lord Agni, whose
soul had been one bright, blinding flame-- this one he had almost feared. He
recalled the day Agni had walked into the palace at Palamaidsu, alone, and
had challenged him. He could not stop that one, though he had tried, and he
had seen the palace itself destroyed by the power of his fires. And nothing
in Hellwell could stop him either. He had made a promise then to himself
that he must test this power, as he had that of Siddhartha, to defeat it or
be bound by it. But he never did. The Lord of Fires had fallen himself,
before the One in Red-- who had been the fourth in Hellwell-- who had
somehow turned his fires back upon him, that day beside the Vedra in the
battle for Keenset. This meant that he was the greatest. For had not even
the Binder warned him of Yama-Dharma, god of Death? Yes, the one whose eyes
drink life was the mightiest yet remaining in the world. He had almost
fallen to his strength within the thunder chariot. He had tested this
strength once, briefly, but had relented because they were allies in that
fight. It was told that Yama had died afterward, in the City. Later, it was
told that he still walked the world. As Lord of the Dead it was said that he
could not die himself, save by his own choosing. Taraka accepted this as a
fact, knowing what this acceptance meant. It meant that he, Taraka, would
return to the south, to the island of the blue palace, where the Lord of
Evil, Nirriti the Black, awaited his answer. He would give his assent.
Starting at Mahartha and working northward from the sea, the Rakasha would
add their power to his dark own, destroying the Temples of the six largest
cities of the southwest, one after another, filling the streets of those
cities with the blood of their citizens and the nameless legions of the
Black One-- until the gods came to their defense, and so met their doom. If
the gods failed to come, then their true weakness would be known. The
Rakasha would then storm Heaven, and Nirriti would level the Celestial City;
Milehigh Spire would fall, the dome would be shattered, the great white cats
of Kaniburrha would look upon ruins, and the pavilions of the gods and the
demigods would be covered with the snows of the Pole. And all of this for
one reason, really-- aside from relieving the boredom, aside from hastening
the final days of gods and of men in the world of the Rakasha. Whenever
there is great fighting and the doing of mighty deeds and bloody deeds and
flaming deeds-- he comes, Taraka knew-- the One in Red comes from somewhere,
always, for his Aspect draws him to the realm that is his. Taraka knew he
would search, wait, do anything, for however long it took, until that day he
stared into the black fires that burn behind the eyes of Death. . . .
Brahma stared at the map, then looked back to the screen of crystal,
about which a bronze Naga twisted, tail in teeth.
"Burning, oh priest?"
"Burning, Brahma . . . the whole warehouse district!"
"Order the people to quench the fires."
"They are already doing so, Mighty One."
"Then why trouble me with the matter?"
"There is fear. Great One."
"Fear? Fear of what?"
"The Black One, whose name I may not speak in your presence, whose
strength has grown steadily in the south, he who controls the sea lanes,
cutting off trade."
"Why should you be afraid to speak the name of Nirriti before me? I
know of the Black One. Do you feel he started the fires?"
"Yes, Great One-- or rather some accursed one in his pay did it. There
is much talk that he seeks to cut us off from the rest of the world, to
drain our wealth, destroy our stores and weaken our spirits, because he
plans-- "
"To invade you, of course."
"You have said it. Potent One."
"It may be true, my priest. So tell me, do you feel your gods will not
stand by you if the Lord of Evil attacks?"
"There has never been any doubt. Most Puissant One. We simply wanted to
remind you of the possibility and renew our perpetual supplication for mercy
and divine protection."
"You have made your point, priest. Fear not."
Brahma ended the transmission. "He will attack."
"Of course."
"And how strong is he, I wonder? No one really knows how strong he is,
Ganesha. Do they?"
"You ask me, my Lord? Your humble policy adviser?"
"I do not see anyone else present, humble godmaker. Do you know of
anyone who might have information?"
"No, Lord. I do not. Everyone avoids the foul one as though he were the
real death. Generally, he is. As you are aware, the three demigods I sent
south did not return."
"They were strong, too, whatever their names, weren't they? How long
ago was that?"
"The last was a year ago, when we sent the new Agni."
"Yes, he wasn't very good, though-- still used incendiary grenades . .
. but strong."
"Morally, perhaps. When there are fewer gods one must settle for
demigods."
"In the old days, I would have taken the thunder chariot-- "
"In the old days there was no thunder chariot. Lord Yama-- "
"Silence! We have a thunder chariot now. I think the tall man of smoke
who wears a wide hat shall bend above Nirriti's palace."
"Brahma, I think Nirriti can stop the thunder chariot."
"Why so?"
"From some firsthand reports I've heard, I believe that he has used
guided missiles against warships sent after his brigands."
"Why did you not tell me of this sooner?"
"They are very recent reports. This is the first chance I have had to
broach the subject."
"Then you do not feel we should attack?"
"No. Wait. Let him move first, that we may judge his strength."
"This would involve sacrificing Mahartha, would it not?"
"So? Have you never seen a city fall? . . . How will Mahartha benefit
him, by itself, and for a time? If we cannot reclaim it, then let the man of
smoke nod his wide white hat-- over Mahartha."
"You are right. It will be worth it, to assess his power properly and
to drain a portion of it away. In the meantime, we must prepare."
"Yes. What will your order be?"
"Alert all the powers in the City. Recall Lord Indra from the eastern
continent, at once!"
"Thy will be done."
"And alert the other five cities of the river -- Lananda, Khaipur,
Kilbar-- "
"Immediately."
"Go then!"
"I am already gone."
Time like an ocean, space like its water, Sam in the middle, standing,
decided.
"God of Death," he called out, "enumerate our strengths."
Yama stretched and yawned, then rose from the scarlet couch upon which
he had been dozing, almost invisible. He crossed the room, stared into Sam's
eyes. "Without raising Aspect, here is my Attribute."
Sam met his gaze, held it. "This is in answer to my question?"
"Partly," replied Yama, "but mainly it was to test your own power. It
appears to be returning. You bore my death-gaze longer than any mortal
could."
"I know my power is returning. I can feel it. Many things are returning
now. During the weeks we have dwelled here in Ratri's palace I have
meditated upon my past lives. They were not all failures, deathgod. I have
decided this today. Though Heaven has beaten me at every turn, each victory
has cost them much."
"Yes, it would seem you are rather a man of destiny. They are actually
weaker now than they were the day you challenged their power at Mahartha.
They are also relatively weaker. This is because men are stronger. The gods
broke Keenset, but they did not break Acceleration. Then they tried to bury
Buddhism within the known teachings, but they could not. I cannot really say
whether your religion helped with the plot of this tale you are writing, by
encouraging Acceleration in any way whatsoever, but then none of the gods
could say either. It served as a good fog, though-- it diverted their
attention from mischief they might have been doing, and since it did happen
to take as a teaching, their efforts against it served to arouse some
anti-Deicrat sentiment. You would seem inspired if you didn't seem shrewd."
"Thank you. Do you want my blessing?"
"No, do you want mine?"
"Perhaps, Death, later. But you did not answer my question. Please tell
me what strengths lie with us."
"Very well. Lord Kubera will arrive shortly. . ."
"Kubera? Where is he?"
"He has dwelled in hiding over the years, leaking scientific knowledge
into the world."
"Over so many years? His body must be ancient! How could he have
managed?"
"Do you forget Narada?"
"My old physician from Kapil?"
"The same. When you dispersed your lancers after your battle in
Mahartha, he retreated into the backlands with a service of retainers. He
packed with him all the equipment you had taken from the Hall of Karma. I
located him many years ago. Subsequent to Keenset, after my escape from
Heaven by the Way of the Black Wheel, I brought Kubera out from his vault
beneath that fallen city. He later allied himself with Narada, who now runs
a bootleg body shop in the hills. They work together. We have set up several
others in various places, also."
"And Kubera comes? Good!"
"And Siddhartha is still Prince of Kapil. A call for troops from that
principality would still be heard. We have sounded them out."
"A handful, probably. But still good to know-- yes."
"And Lord Krishna."
"Krishna? What is he doing on our side? Where is he?"
"He was here. I found him the day we arrived. He had just moved in with
one of the girls. Quite pathetic."
"How so?"
"Old. Pitifully old and weak, but still a drunken lecher. His Aspect
served him still, however, periodically summoning up some of his ancient
charisma and a fraction of his colossal vitality. He had been expelled from
Heaven after Keenset, but because he would not fight against Kubera and
myself, as did Agni. He has wandered the world for over half a century,
drinking and loving and playing his pipes and growing older. Kubera and I
have tried several times to locate him, but he did considerable traveling.
This is generally a requirement for renegade fertility deities."
"What good will he be to us?"
"I sent him to Narada for a new body on the day I found him. He will be
riding in with Kubera. His powers always take to the transfer quickly, too."
"But what good will he be to us?"
"Do not forget that it was he who broke the black demon Bana, whom even
Indra feared to face. When he is sober he is one of the deadliest fighting
men alive. Yama, Kubera, Krishna, and if you're willing-- Kalkin! We will be
the new Lokapalas, and we will stand together."
"I am willing."
"So be it, then. Let them send a company of their trainee gods against
us! I've been designing new weapons. It is a shame that there must be so
many separate and exotic ones. It is quite a drain on my genius to make each
a work of art, rather than to mass-produce a particular species of offense.
But the plurality of the paranormal dictates it. Someone always has an
Attribute to stand against any one weapon. Let them face, though, the
Gehenna Gun and be fibrillated apart, or cross blades with the Electrosword,
or stand before the Fountain Shield, with its spray of cyanide and dimethyl
sulfoxide, and they will know that it is the Lokapalas they face!"
"I see now, Death, why it is that any god-- even Brahma-- may pass and
be succeeded by another-- save for yourself."
"Thank you. Have you a plan of any sort?"
"Not yet. I will need more information as to the strength within the
City. Has Heaven demonstrated its power in recent years?"
"No."
"If there were some way of testing them without showing our hand. . ..
Perhaps the Rakasha ,.."
"No, Sam. I do not trust them."
"Nor I. But they can sometimes be dealt with."
"As you dealt with them in Hellwell and Palamaidsu?"
"Well answered. Maybe you are right. I will give it more thought. I
wonder about Nirriti, though. How go things with the Black One?"
"In recent years, he has come to dominate the seas. Rumor has it that
his legions grow, and that he builds machines of war. I once told you,
though, of my fears in this matter. Let us stay as far away from Nirriti as
possible. He has but one thing in common with us-- the desire to topple
Heaven. Neither Accelerationist nor Deicrat, should he succeed he would set
up a Dark Age worse than the one we're beginning to come out of. Perhaps our
best course of action would be to provoke a battle between Nirriti and the
Gods of the City, lie low and then shoot at the winners."
"You may be right, Yama. But how to do this?"
"We may not have to. It may happen of its own accord-- soon. Mahartha
crouches, cowering back from the sea it faces. You are the strategist, Sam.
I'm only a tactician. We brought you back to tell us what to do. Pray think
about it carefully, now that you are yourself once more."
"You are always stressing those last words."
"Yea, preacher. For you have not been battle-tested since your return
from bliss. . . . Tell me, can you make the Buddhists fight?"
"Probably, but I might have to assume an identity I now find
distasteful."
"Well. . . perhaps not. Keep it in mind, in case we're hard put. To be
safe, though, practice every night in front of a mirror with that esthetics
lecture you gave back at Ratri's monastery."
"I'd rather not."
"I know, but do it anyway."
"Better I should practice with a blade. Fetch me one and I'll give you
a lesson."
"Ho! Fair enough! Make it a good lesson and you've got yourself a
convert."
"Then let us adjourn to the courtyard, where I will proceed to
enlighten you."
As, within the blue palace, Nirriti raised his arms, the rockets
screamed skyward from the decks of his launch ships to arc above the city of
Mahartha.
As his black breastplate was buckled into place, the rockets came down
upon that city and the fires began.
As he donned his boots, his fleet entered into the harbor.
As his black cloak was clasped about his throat and his black steel
helm placed upon his head, his sergeants began a soft drumbeat beneath the
decks of his ships.
As his sword belt was hung about his waist, the soulless ones stirred
within the holds of the vessels.
As he put on his gauntlets of leather and steel, his fleet, driven by
winds fanned by the Rakasha, approached the port.
As he motioned to his young steward, Olvagga, to follow him into the
courtyard, the warriors who never spoke mounted the decks of the ships and
faced the burning harbor.
As the engines within the dark sky gondola rumbled and the door was
opened before them, the first of his ships dropped anchor.
As they entered the gondola, the first of his troops entered Mahartha.
When they reached Mahartha, the city had fallen.
Birds sang in the high, green places of the garden. Fish, like old
coins, lay at the bottom of the blue pool. The flowers in bloom were mainly
red and big-petaled; but there were also occasional yellow wunlips about her
jade bench. There was a white, wrought-iron back to it, upon which she
rested her left hand while she regarded the flagstones across which his
boots scuffed as he moved in her direction.
"Sir, this is a private garden," she stated. He stopped before the
bench and looked down at her. He was beefy, tanned, dark of eye and beard,
expressionless until he smiled. He wore blue and leather.
"Guests do not come here," she added, "but do use the gardens in the
other wing of the building. Go through yon archway-- "
"You were always welcome in my garden, Ratri," he said.
"Your . . . ?"
"Kubera."
"Lord Kubera! You are not-- "
"Fat. I know. New body, and it's been working hard. Building Yama's
weapons, transporting them. . ."/p>
"When did you arrive?" "This minute. I brought Krishna back, along with
a load of firepacks, grenades and antipersonnel mines. . ."
"Gods! It's been so long , . ."
"Yes. Very. But an apology is still due you, so I have come to give it.
It has bothered me these many years. I am sorry, Ratri, about that night,
long ago, when I dragged you into this thing. I needed your Attribute, so I
drafted you. I do not like to use people so."
"I would have left the City soon, at any rate, Kubera. So do not feel
overly guilty. I should prefer a more comely form, though, than this which I
now wear. This is not essential, however."
"I'll get you another body, lady."
"Another day, Kubera. Pray sit down. Here. Are you hungry? Are you
thirsty?"
"Yes, and yes."
"Here is fruit, and soma. Or would you prefer tea?"
"Soma, thank you."
"Yama says Sam is recovered from his sainthood."
"Good, the need for him is growing. Has he made any plans yet -- for us
to act upon?"
"Yama has not told me. But perhaps Sam has not told Yama."
The branches shook violently in a nearby tree and Tak dropped to the
ground, landing upon all fours. He crossed the flagstones and stood beside
the bench.
"All this talk has awakened me," he growled. "Who is this fellow,
Ratri?"
"Lord Kubera, Tak."
"It thou beest he-- then oh, how changed!" said Tak.
"And the same might be said of yourself, Tak of the Archives. Why are
you still an ape? Yama could transmigrate you."
"I am more useful as an ape," said Tak. "I am an excellent spy -- far
better than a dog. I am stronger than a man. And who can tell one ape from
another? I will remain in this form until there is no longer any need for my
special services."
"Commendable. Has there been further news of Nirriti's movements?"
"His vessels move nearer the large ports than was their wont in the
past," said Tak. "There appear to be more of them, also. Beyond this,
nothing. It would seem the gods fear him, for they do not destroy him."
"Yes," said Kubera, "for now he is an unknown. I'm inclined to think of
him as Ganesha's mistake. It was he who permitted him to leave Heaven
unmolested, and to take what equipment he did with him. I think Ganesha
wanted someone available as an enemy of Heaven, should the need for one ever
arise in a hurry. He must never have dreamed a nontechnical could have put
the equipment to the uses he did, and build up the forces he now commands."
"There is logic in what you say," said Ratri. "Even I have heard that
Ganesha often moves in such a manner. What will he do now?"
"Give Nirriti the first city he attacks, to observe his means of
offense and assess his strength-- if he can persuade Brahma to hold back.
Then strike at Nirriti. Mahartha must fall, and we must stand near. It would
be interesting even to watch."
"But you feel we will do more than watch?" asked Tak.
"Indeed. Sam knows we must be on hand to make more pieces of the
pieces, and then to pick some up. We will have to move as soon as someone
else does, Tak, which may be soon."
"At last," said Tak. "I have always wanted to go to battle at the side
of the Binder."
"In the weeks to come, I am certain that almost as many wishes will be
granted as broken."
"More soma? More fruit?"
"Thank you, Ratri."
"And you, Tak?"
"A banana, perhaps."
Within the shadow of the forest, at the peak of a high hill, Brahma
sat, like a statue of a god mounted upon a gargoyle, staring downward into
Mahartha.
"They defile the Temple."
"Yes," answered Ganesha. "The Black One's feelings have not changed
over the years."
"In a way, it is a pity. In another way, it is frightening. His troops
had rifles and sidearms."
"Yes. They are very strong. Let us return to the gondola."
"In a moment."
"I fear, Lord . . . they may be too strong-- at this point."
"What do you suggest?"
"They cannot sail up the river. If they would attack Lananda they must
go overland."
"True. Unless he has sufficient sky vessels."
"And if they would attack Khaipur they must go even farther."
"Aye! And if they would attack Kilbar they must go farther yet! Get to
your point! What are you trying to say?"
"The farther they go, the greater their logistic problems, the more
vulnerable they become to guerrilla tactics along the way -- "
"Are you proposing I do nothing but harass them? That I let them march
across the land, taking city after city? They will dig in until
reinforcements come to hold what they have gained, then they will move on.
Only a fool would do otherwise. If we wait-- "
"Look down below!"
"What? What is it?"
"They are preparing to move out."
"Impossible!"
"Brahma, you forget that Nirriti is a fanatic, a madman. He doesn't
want Mahartha, or Lananda or Khaipur either. He wants to destroy our Temples
and ourselves. The only other things he cares about in those cities are
souls, not bodies. He will move across the land destroying every symbol of
our religion that he comes upon, until we choose to carry the fight to him.
If we do nothing, he will probably then send in missionaries."
"Well, we must do something!"
"Then weaken him as he moves. When he is weak enough, strike! Give him
Lananda. Khaipur, too, if necessary. Even Kilbar and Hamsa. When he is weak
enough, smash him. We can spare the cities. How many have we destroyed
ourselves? You cannot even remember!"
"Thirty-six," said Brahma. "Let us return to Heaven while I consider
this thing. If I follow your advice and he withdraws before he becomes too
weakened, then we have lost much."
"I'm willing to gamble that he won't."
"The dice are not yours to cast, Ganesha, but mine. And see, he has
those cursed Rakasha with him! Let us depart quickly, before they detect
us."
"Yes, quickly!"
They turned their slizzards back toward the forest.
Krishna put aside his pipes when the messenger was brought to him.
"Yes?" he asked.
"Mahartha has fallen . . ."
Krishna stood.
"And Nirriti prepares to march upon Lananda."
"What have the gods done in defense?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
"Come with me. The Lokapalas are about to confer."
Krishna left his pipes upon the table.
That night, Sam stood upon the highest balcony of Ratri's palace. The
rains fell about him, coming like cold nails through the wind. Upon his left
hand, an iron ring glowed with an emerald radiance.
The lightning fell and fell and fell, and remained.
He raised his hand and the thunders roared and roared, like the death
cries of all the dragons who might ever have lived, sometime, somewhere. . .
.
The night fell back as the fire elementals stood before the Palace of
Kama.
Sam raised both hands together, and they climbed into the air as one
and hovered high in the night.
He gestured and they moved above Khaipur, passing from one end of the
city to the other.
Then they circled.
Then they split apart and danced within the storm.
He lowered his hands.
They returned and stood once more before him.
He did not move. He waited.
After a hundred heartbeats, it came and spoke to him out of the night:
"Who are you, to command the slaves of the Rakasha?"
"Bring me Taraka," said Sam.
"I take orders from no mortal."
"Then look upon the flames of my true being, ere I bind you to yon
metal flagpole for so long as it shall stand."
"Binder! You live!"
"Bring me Taraka," he repeated.
"Yes, Siddhartha. Thy will be done."
Sam clapped his hands and the elementals leapt skyward and the night
was dark about him once more.
The Lord of Hellwell took upon him a manlike form and entered the room
where Sam sat alone.
"The last ever I saw of you was upon the day of the Great Battle," he
stated. "Later, I heard that they had found a way of destroying you."
"As you can see, they did not."
"How came you into the world again?"
"Lord Yama fetched me back-- the One in Red."
"His power is indeed great."
"It proved sufficient. How go things with the Rakasha these days?"
"Well. We continue your fight."
"Really? In what ways?"
"We aid your old ally-- the Black One, Lord Nirriti-- in his campaign
against the gods."
"I suspected this. It is the reason I have contacted you."
"You wish to ride with him?"
"I have thought it over carefully, and despite my comrades' objections
I do wish to ride with him-- provided he will make an agreement with us. I
want you to carry my message to him."
"What is the message, Siddhartha?"
"The message is that the Lokapalas-- these being Yama, Krishna, Kubera
and myself-- will ride to battle with him against the gods, bringing all our
supporters, powers, and machineries to bear upon them, if he will agree not
to war against the followers of either Buddhism or Hinduism as they exist in
the world, for purposes of converting them to his persuasion-- and further,
that he will not seek to suppress Accelerationism, as the gods have done,
should we prove victorious. Look upon his flames as he speaks his answer,
and tell me whether he speaks it true."
"Do you think he will agree to this, Sam?"
"I do. He knows that, if the gods were no longer present to enforce
Hinduism as they do, then he would gain converts. He can see this from what
I managed to do with Buddhism, despite their opposition. He feels that his
way is the only right way and that it is destined to prevail in the face of
competition. I think he would agree to fair competition for this reason.
Take him this message and bring me his answer. All right?"
Taraka wavered. His face and left arm became smoke.
"Sam . . ."
"What?"
"Which one is the right way?"
"Huh? You're asking me that? How should I know?"
"Mortals call you Buddha."
"That is only because they are afflicted with language and ignorance."
"No. I have looked upon your flames and name you Lord of Light. You
bind them as you bound us, you loose them as you loosed us. Yours was the
power to lay a belief upon them. You are what you claimed to be."
"I lied. I never believed in it myself, and I still don't. I could just
as easily have chosen another way-- say, Nirriti's religion-- only
crucifixion hurts. I might have chosen one called Islam, only I know too
well how it mixes with Hinduism. My choice was based upon calculation, not
inspiration, and I am nothing."
"You are the Lord of Light."
"Go deliver my message now. We can discuss religion another day."
"The Lokapalas, you say, are Yama, Krishna, Kubera and yourself?"
"Yes."
"Then he does live. Tell me, Sam, before I go . . . could you defeat
Lord Yama in battle?"
"I do not know. I don't think so, though. I don't think anybody could."
"But could he defeat you?"
"Probably, in a fair fight. Whenever we met as enemies in the past, I
was sometimes lucky and sometimes I managed to trick him. I've fenced with
him recently and he is without peer. He is too versatile in the ways of
destruction."
"I see," said Taraka, his right arm and half his chest drifting away.
"Then good night upon you, Siddhartha. I take your message with me."
"Thank you, and good night upon yourself."
Taraka became all smoke and fled forth into the storm.
High above the world, spinning: Taraka. The storm raged about him, but
he took scant notice of its fury.
The thunders fell and the rain came down and the Bridge of the Gods was
invisible. But none of these things bothered him. For he was Taraka of the
Rakasha, Lord of Hellwell. . .
And he had been the mightiest creature in the world, save for the
Binder.
Now the Binder had told him that there was One Greater. . . and they
were to fight together, as before.
How insolently he had stood in his Red and his Power! That day. Over
half a century ago. By the Vedra.
To destroy Yama-Dharma, to defeat Death, would prove Taraka supreme. .
. .
To prove Taraka supreme was more important than defeating the gods, who
must one day pass, anyhow, for they were not of the Rakasha.
Therefore, the Binder's message to Nirriti-- to which he had said
Nirriti would agree-- would be spoken only to the storm, and Taraka would
look upon its flames and know that it spoke true.
For the storm never lies . . . and it always says No!
The dark sergeant brought him into camp. He had been resplendent in his
armor, with its bright trappings, and he had not been captured; he had
walked up to him and stated that he had a message for Nirriti. For this
reason, the sergeant decided against slaying him immediately. He took his
weapons, conducted him into the camp -- there in the wood near Lananda-- and
left him under guard while he consulted his leader.
Nirriti and Olvegg sat within a black tent. A map of Lananda was spread
before them.
When they permitted him to bring the prisoner into the tent, Nirriti
regarded him and dismissed the sergeant.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Ganesha of the City. The same who aided you in your flight from
Heaven."
Nirriti appeared to consider this.
"Well do I remember my one friend from the old days," he said. "Why
have you come to me?"
"Because the time is propitious to do so. You have finally undertaken
the great crusade."
"Yes."
"I would hold privy counsel with you concerning it."
"Speak then."
"What of this fellow?"
"To speak before Jan Olvegg is to speak before me. Say what is on your
mind."
"Olvegg?"
"Yes."
"Just so. I have come to tell you that the Gods of the City are weak.
Too weak, I feel, to defeat you."
"I had felt this to be true."
"But they are not so weak as to be unable to hurt you immensely when
they do move. Things might hang in the balance if they muster all their
forces at the proper moment."
"I came to battle with this in mind, also."
"Better your victory be less costly. You know I am a Christian
sympathizer."
"What is it you have in mind?"
"I volunteered to lead some guerrilla fighting solely to tell you that
Lananda is yours. They will not defend it. If you continue to move as you
have-- not consolidating your gains-- and you move upon Khaipur, Brahma will
not defend it either. But when you come to Kilbar, your forces weakened from
the battles for the first three cities and from these, our raids along the
way, then will Brahma strike with the full might of Heaven, that you may go
down to defeat before the walls of Kilbar. All the powers of the Celestial
City have been readied. They wait for you to dare the gates of the fourth
city of the river."
"I see. That is good to know. Then they do fear that which I bear."
"Of course. Will you bear it as far as Kilbar?"
"Yes. And I will win in Kilbar, also. I shall send for my mightiest
weapons before we attack that city. The powers which I have held back to use
upon the Celestial City itself will be unleashed upon my enemies when they
come to the defense of doomed Kilbar."
"They, too, will bring mighty weapons."
"Then, when we meet, the outcome will lie neither in their hands nor in
my hands, really."
"There is a way to tip the balance even further, Renfrew."
"Oh? What else have you in mind?"
"Many of the demigods are dissatisfied with the situation in the City.
They had wanted a prolonged campaign against Accelerationism and against the
followers of Tathagatha. They were disappointed when this did not follow
Keenset. Also, Lord Indra has been recalled from the eastern continent,
where he was carrying the war against the witches. Indra could be made to
appreciate the sentiments of the demigods-- and his followers will come hot
from another battlefield."
Ganesha adjusted his cloak.
"Speak on," said Nirriti.
"When they come to Kilbar," said Ganesha, "it may be that they will not
fight in its defense."
"I see. What will you gain from all this, Ganesha?"
"Satisfaction."
"Nothing more?"
"I would that you recall one day that I made this visit."
"So be it. I shall not forget, and you shall have reward of me
afterward. . . . Guard!"
The tent flap was opened, and the one who had brought Ganesha
re-entered the tent.
"Escort this man wherever he wants to be taken, and release him
unharmed," Nirriti ordered.
"You would trust this one?" asked Olvegg, after he bad gone.
"Yes," said Nirriti, "but I would give him his silver afterward."
The Lokapalas sat to counsel within Sam's chamber at the Palace of Kama
in Khaipur. Also present were Tak and Ratri.
"Taraka tells me that Nirriti will not have us on our terms," said Sam.
"Good," said Yama. "I half feared he would agree."
"And in the morning they attack Lananda. Taraka feels they will take
the city. It will be a little more difficult than Mahartha was, but he is
certain they will win. I am too."
"And I."
"And I."
"Then he will move on to this city, Khaipur. Then Kilbar, then Hamsa,
then Gayatri. Somewhere along this route, he knows the gods will move
against him."
"Of course."
"So we are in the middle and we have several choices before us. We
could not make a deal with Nirriti. Do you think we could make one with
Heaven?"
"No!" said Yama, slamming his fist upon the table. "Which side are you
on, Sam?"
"Acceleration," he replied. "If it can be procured through negotiation,
rather than unnecessary bloodshed, so much the better."
"I'd rather deal with Nirriti than Heaven!"
"So let us vote upon it as we did upon making the contact with
Nirriti."
"And you require only one assent to win."
"Those were my terms upon entering the Lokapalas. You asked me to lead
you, so I require the power to break a tie. Let me explain my reasoning,
though, before we talk of a vote."
"Very well-- talk!"
"Heaven has, in recent years, developed a more liberal attitude toward
Acceleration, as I understand it. There has been no official change of
position, but no steps have been taken against Acceleration either--
presumably because of the beating they took at Keenset. Am I not correct?"
"Essentially," said Kubera.
"It seems that they have decided such actions would be too costly every
time Science rears its ugly head. There were people, humans, fighting
against them in that battle. Against Heaven. And people, unlike our selves,
have families, have ties which weaken them-- and they are bound to keep a
clean karmic record if they desire rebirth. Still, they fought. Accordingly,
Heaven has been moved to greater lenience in recent years. Since this is the
situation as it actually exists, they have nothing to lose by acknowledging
it. In fact, they could make it show to their favor, as a benign gesture of
divine graciousness. I think that they would be willing to make the
concessions Nirriti would not-- "
"I want to see Heaven fall," said Yama.
"Of course. So do I. But think carefully. Just with what you've given
to humans over the pa