feel that our greatest problem is Accelerationism. Sam came back, stirring,
making clear waters muddy."
"Yes," said Shiva.
"Accelerationism? Why kick a dead dog?"
"Ah, but it is not dead. Not down among men. And it will also serve to
direct attention away from the succession within Trimurti and regain at
least surface solidarity here in the City. Unless, of course, you'd rather
undertake a campaign against Nirriti and his zombies?"
"No thanks."
"Not now."
"Mmm . . . yes, then Accelerationism is our greatest problem at the
present time."
"All right. Accelerationism is our greatest problem."
"Who hates it more than anyone else?"
"Yourself?"
"Nonsense. Except me."
"Tell us, Ganesha."
"Kali."
"I doubt this."
"I do not. The twin beasts, Buddhism and Accelerationism, draw a single
chariot. The Buddha scorned her. She is a woman. She will carry on the
campaign."
"It will mean renouncing her womanhood."
"Speak to me not of trifles."
"All right-- Kali."
"But what of Yama?"
"What of him? Leave Yama to me."
"I'd rather."
"I also."
"Very well. Go you then forth across the world, within the thunder
chariot and upon the back of the great bird Garuda. Find Yama and Kali.
Return them to Heaven. I will wait upon your return and consider the matter
of Brahma's passing."
"So be it."
"Agreed."
"Good morning."
"Good merchant Vama, wait! I would have words with thee."
"Yea, Kabada. What wouldst thou?"
"It is difficult to find the words I would have with thee. But they do
concern a certain state of affairs which hath aroused considerable sentiment
on the parts of thy various adjacent neighbors."
"Oh? Speak on then."
"Concerning the atmosphere . . ."
"The atmosphere?"
"The winds and breezes, perhaps . . ."
"Winds? Breezes?"
"And the things they bear."
"Things? Such as. . . ?"
"Odors, good Vama."
"Odors? What odors?"
"Odors of-- well, odors of-- of fecal matter."
"Of . . . ? Oh! Yes. True. True enough. There may be a few such. I had
forgotten, having grown used to them."
"Might I inquire as to their cause?"
"They are caused by the product of defecation, Kabada."
"Of this I am aware. I meant to make inquiry as to why they are
present, rather than their source and nature."
"They are present because of the buckets in my back room, which are
filled with such -- items."
"Oh?"
"Yes. I have been saving the products of my family in this manner. I
have been doing this for the past eight days."
"Against what use, worthy Vama?"
"Hast thou not heard of a thing, a wondrous thing, a thing into which
these items are discharged-- into water-- and then a lever pulled, and then,
with a mighty rushing sound, these things are borne away, far beneath the
ground?"
"I have heard some talk of such .. ."
"Oh, 'tis true, 'tis true. There is such a thing. It has but recently
been invented by one whom I should not name, and it involves great pipes and
a seat without a bottom, or a top, really. It is the most wonderful
discovery of the age-- and I will have me one within a matter of moons!"
"Thou? Such a thing?"
"Yea. It shall be installed in the small room I have built onto the
back of my home. I may even give a dinner that night and permit all my
neighbors to take use of it."
"This is indeed wondrous-- and thou generous."
"I feel so."
"But-- of the-- smells. . . ?"
"They are caused by the buckets of items, which I am preserving against
the installation of this thing."
"Why?"
"I should rather have it on my karmic record that this thing was used
for these items beginning with eight days ago, rather than several moons
from now. It will show my rapid advancement in life."
"Ah! I see now the wisdom of thy ways, Vama. I did not wish it to
appear that we stood in the way of any man who seeks to better himself.
Forgive me if I gave this impression."
"Thou art forgiven."
"Thy neighbors do love thee, smells and all. When thou art advanced to
a higher state, please remember this."
"Of course."
"Such progress must be expensive."
"Quite."
"Worthy Vama, we shall take delight in the atmosphere, with all its
pungent portents."
"This is only my second lifetime, good Kabada, but already I feel that
destiny touches upon me."
"And I, also. The winds of Time do shift, and they bear to mankind many
wondrous things. The gods keep thee."
"Thou also. But forget not the blessing of the Enlightened One, whom my
second cousin Vasu sheltered in his purple grove."
"How could I? Mahasamatman was a god also. Some say Vishnu."
"They lie. He was the Buddha."
"Add then his blessings."
"Very good. Good day, Kabada."
"Good day, worthy one."
Yama and Kali entered into Heaven. They descended upon the Celestial
City on the back of the bird called Garuda. In the company of Vishnu, they
entered into the City. They did not pause for any purpose, but went directly
to the Pavilion of Brahma. In the Garden of Joys they met with Shiva and
with Ganesha.
"Hear me, Death and Destruction," said Ganesha, "Brahma is dead and
only we five now know of it."
"How did this thing come to pass?" asked Yama.
"It appears that he was poisoned."
"Has there been an autopsy?"
"No."
"Then I shall perform one."
"Good. But now there is another matter, of even graver consideration."
"Name it."
"His successor."
"Yes. Heaven cannot be without a Brahma."
"Exactly. . . . Kali, tell me, would you consider being Brahma, of the
golden saddle and silver spurs?"
"I don't know . . ."
"Then begin thinking about it, and quickly. You are considered the best
choice."
"What of Lord Agni?"
"Not so high on the list. It does not appear he is so
anti-Accelerationist as Madam Kali."
"I see."
"And I."
"Therefore, he is a good god, but not a great one."
"Yes. Who might have killed Brahma?"
"I have no idea. Have you?"
"Not yet."
"But you will find him, Lord Yama?"
"Aye, with my Aspect upon me."
"You two may wish to confer."
"We do."
"Then will we leave you now. An hour hence we shall dine together in
the Pavilion."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Till then. . ."
"Till then."
"Till then."
"Lady?"
"Yes?"
"With a changing of bodies one is automatically divorced, unless a
continuation contract be signed."
"Yes."
"Brahma must needs be a man."
"Yes."
"Refuse it."
"My Lord . . ."
"You hesitate?"
"It is all so sudden, Yama . . ."
"You pause even to consider it?"
"I must."
"Kali, you distress me."
"Such was not my intention."
"And I bid you refuse the offer."
"I am a goddess in my own right, as well as your wife, Lord Yama."
"What does that mean?"
"I make my own decisions."
"If you accept. Kali, then all things are come to an end between us."
"That is apparent."
"What, in the names of the Rishis, is Accelerationism but a storm over
an ant hill? Why are they suddenly so against it?"
"It must be that they feel a need to be against something."
"Why choose you to head it?"
"I do not know."
"Unless there is some special reason for you to be
anti-Accelerationist, my dear?"
"I do not know."
"I am but young, as gods go, but I have heard it said that in the early
days of the world the hero with whom you rode-- Kalkin -- was the same as
the one called Sam. If you had reason to hate your ancient Lord, and Sam was
truly he, then could I see their enlisting you against this thing he had
started. Might this be true?"
"It might."
"Then if you love me-- and you are truly my lady-- then let another be
Brahma."
"Yama . . ."
"They will want a decision within the hour."
"And I will have one for them."
"What will it be?"
"I am sorry, Yama . . ."
Yama departed the Garden of Joys before dinnertime. Though it seemed an
unhealthy breach of etiquette, Yama, among all the gods, was deemed hardest
to discipline and was aware of this fact, as well as the reasons that lay
behind it. So he left the Garden of Joys and journeyed to the place where
Heaven stops.
He dwelled that day and that night at Worldsend, nor was he disturbed
by any callers. He spent time in each of the five rooms in the Pavilion of
Silence. His thoughts being his own, you leave them alone, too. In the
morning, he returned to the Celestial City.
There, he learned of the death of Shiva.
His trident had burnt another hole in the dome, but his head had been
smashed in by means of a blunt instrument, as yet unlocated.
Yama went to his friend Kubera. "Ganesha, Vishnu and the new Brahma
have already approached Agni, to fill the place of the Destroyer," said
Kubera. "I believe he will accept."
"Excellent, for Agni," said Yama. "Who killed God?"
"I have thought much upon it," said Kubera, "and I believe that in the
case of Brahma it must have been someone with whom he was sufficiently
familiar to have taken refreshment, and in the case of Shiva, someone well
enough known to have surprised him. More than this deponent knoweth not."
"The same person?"
"I'd bet money."
"Could it be part of an Accelerationist plot?"
"I find this difficult to believe. Those who are sympathetic to
Accelerationism have no real organization. Accelerationism is returned too
recently to Heaven for it to amount to more than that. A cabal, perhaps.
Most likely a single individual did it, independent of backers."
"What other reasons might be present?"
"A vendetta. Or some minor deity out to become a major one. Why does
anybody kill anybody?"
"Can you think of anyone in particular?"
"The biggest problem, Yama, will be eliminating suspects, not finding
them. Has the investigation been given into your hands?"
"I am no longer certain. I think so. But I will find who did it,
whatever his station, and kill him."
"Why?"
"I have need of something to do, someone to. . ."
"Kill?"
"Yes."
"I am sorry, my friend."
"I, also. It is my privilege and my intention, however."
"I wish you had not spoken with me at all, concerning this matter. It
is obviously quite confidential."
"I won't tell anyone if you won't."
"I assure you I shan't"
"And you know I'll take care of the karmic trackings, against the
psych-probe."
"That is why I mentioned it, and spoke of Shiva also. Let it be so."
"Good day, my friend."
"Good day, Yama."
Yama departed the Pavilion of the Lokapalas. After a time, the goddess
Ratri entered there.
"Hail, Kubera."
"Hail, Ratri."
"Why sit you there alone?"
"Because I have none to make me unalone. Why come you here -- alone?"
"Because I had none to talk with, till now."
"Seek you counsel, or conversation?"
"Both."
"Sit down."
"Thank you. I am afraid."
"Are you hungry, too?"
"No."
"Have a piece of fruit and a cup of soma."
"All right."
"What is it that you fear, and how may I help you?"
"I saw Lord Yama leaving here . . ."
"Yes."
"I realized when I looked upon his face that there is a god of Death,
and that there is a power which even gods might fear . . ."
"Yama is strong, and he is my friend. Death is mighty, and is no one's
friend. The two exist together though, and it is strange. Agni is strong
also, and is Fire. He is my friend. Krishna could be strong if he wished.
But he never wishes so. He wears out bodies at a fantastic rate. He drinks
soma and makes music and women. He hates the past and the future. He is my
friend. I am least among the Lokapalas, and I am not strong. Whatever body I
wear goes quickly to fat. I am more father than brother to my three friends.
Of them, I can appreciate the drunkenness and the music and the loving and
the fire, for these are things of life, and so can I love my friends as men
or as gods. But the other Yama makes me to be afraid, also, Ratri. For when
he takes upon him his Aspect he is a vacuum, which sets this poor fat
a-tremble. Then he is no one's friend. So do not feel awkward if you fear my
friend. You know that when a god is troubled, then his Aspect rushes to
comfort him, oh goddess of the Night, as even now it becomes twilight within
this bower, though the day is far from ended. Know that you passed a
troubled Yama."
"He returned fairly suddenly."
"Yes."
"May I ask why?"
"I am afraid the matter is confidential."
"Does it concern Brahma?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I believe Brahma is dead. I fear that Yama was summoned to find his
slayer. I fear he will find me, though I call down a century of night upon
Heaven. He will find me, and I cannot face the vacuum."
"What do you know regarding this alleged slaying?"
"I believe I was either the last to see Brahma alive or the first to
see him dead, depending upon what his twitching signified."
"What were the circumstances?"
"I had gone to his Pavilion early yesterday morning, to intercede with
him that he might lift his wrath and permit the return of Lady Parvati. I
was told to seek him in the Garden of His Joys, and I walked there-- "
"Told? Who told you?"
"One of his women. I don't know her name."
"Go ahead. What happened then?"
"I found him at the foot of the blue statue which plays upon the veena.
He was twitching. There was no breathing. Then he stopped twitching even and
was still. There was no heartbeat and no pulse that I could feel. So I
called back a portion of the night to cloak me in shadows and departed the
Garden."
"Why did you not summon assistance? It still might not have been too
late."
"Because I wanted him to die, of course. I hated him for what he did to
Sam, and for the driving away of Parvati and Varuna, and for what he did to
the Archivist, Tak, and for-- "
"Enough. One could go on all day thus. Did you depart directly from the
Garden, or did you stop back at the Pavilion?"
"I passed the Pavilion and saw the same girl. I made myself visible to
her and told her that I could not locate Brahma and would return later. . .
. He is dead, isn't he? What shall I do now?"
"Have another piece of fruit and some more soma. Yes, he's dead."
"Will Yama come after me?"
"Of course. He will go after everyone who was seen anywhere near there.
It was doubtless a reasonably quick-acting poison, and you were there right
near the time of death. So naturally he will go after you-- and he will have
you psych-probed, along with all the others. This will reveal that you did
not do it. So I suggest you simply await being called into custody. Do not
tell anyone else this story."
"What shall I tell Yama?"
"If he reaches you before I reach him, tell him everything, including
the fact that you have spoken with me. This is because I am not even
supposed to know that this thing has occurred. The passing of one among
Trimurti is always kept secret for as long as possible, even at the expense
of lives."
"But the Lords of Karma would read it from your memory when you stood
to a judgment."
"Just so they do not read it from your memory today. The knowledge of
Brahma's passing will be kept to as small a group as possible. Since Yama
may be conducting the official investigation and is also the designer of the
psych-probe, I don't think any yellow wheel people will be dragged in to run
the machines. Still, I must confirm this fact with Yama-- or suggest it to
him -- immediately."
"Before you go . . ."
"Yes?"
"You said that only a few may know of this thing, even if lives must be
spent. Does this mean that I. . . ?"
"No. You will live, because I will protect you."
"Why will you?"
"Because you are my friend."
Yama operated the machine that probes the mind. He probed thirty-seven
subjects, all of whom could have had access to Brahma in his Garden during
the entire day prior to the deicide. Of these, eleven were gods or
goddesses, including Ratri, Sarasvati, Vayu, Mara, Lakshmi, Murugan, Agni
and Krishna.
Of these thirty-seven, gods and men, none was found to be guilty.
Kubera the artificer stood at Yama's side, and he regarded the
psych-tapes.
"What now, Yama?"
"I do not know."
"Mayhap the killer was invisible."
"Perhaps."
"But you think not?"
"I think not."
"Supposing everybody in the City were made to stand the probe?"
"There are many arrivals and departures every day, via many entrances
and exits."
"Have you given thought to the possibility of its having been one of
the Rakasha? They are again abroad in the world, as well you know-- and they
hate us."
"The Rakasha do not poison their victims. Also, I do not believe one
could enter the Garden, because of the demon-repelling incense."
"What now?"
"I shall return to my laboratory, and think."
"May I accompany you to the Vasty Hall of Death?"
"If you wish."
Kubera returned with Yama; and while Yama thought, Kubera perused his
master-tapes index, which he had set up when experimenting with the first
probe-machines. They were discarded, they were incomplete, of course; only
the Lords of Karma kept up to date life-record tapes on everyone in the
Celestial City. Kubera knew this, of course.
The printing press was rediscovered in a place called Keenset, by the
river Vedra. Experiments with sophisticated plumbing were also going on in
this place. Two very fine Temple artists also appeared on the scene, and an
old glasscutter made a pair of bifocals and began grinding out more.
Therefore, indications were that one of the city-states was undergoing a
renaissance.
Brahma decided it was time to move against Accelerationism.
A war party was raised in Heaven, and the Temples of cities adjacent to
Keenset sent out the call to the faithful to be ready for a holy war.
Shiva the Destroyer bore only a token trident, for his real faith lay
with the wand of fire that he wore at his side.
Brahma, of the golden saddle and silver spurs, bore a sword, a wheel
and a bow.
The new Rudra bore the bow and quiver of the old.
Lord Mara wore a shimmering cloak, which changed colors constantly, and
none could tell what manner of weapons he bore or what sort of chariot he
mounted. For to stare upon him overlong was to feel one's head swim, and
things changed their shapes about him, save for his horses, whose mouths
constantly dripped blood, which smoked where it fell.
Then, from among the demigods were fifty chosen, still struggling to
discipline erratic Attributes, eager to strengthen Aspect and gain merit
through battle.
Krishna declined battle and went off to play his pipes in Kaniburrha.
He found him lying upon a grassy hillside beyond the City, staring up
into the star-filled sky.
"Good evening."
He turned his head and nodded.
"How goes it with you, good Kubera?"
"Well enough, Lord Kalkin. And yourself?"
"Quite well. Have you a cigarette upon your most impressive person?"
"I am never far from them."
"Thank you."
"Light?"
"Yes."
"Was that a jackbird that circled the Buddha before Madam Kali tore his
guts out?"
"Let us speak of pleasanter matters."
"You killed a weak Brahma and a mighty one has replaced him."
"Oh?"
"You killed a strong Shiva, but an equal strength replaces his."
"Life is full of changes."
"What did you hope to gain? Revenge?"
"Revenge is part of the illusion of self. How can a man kill that which
neither lives nor dies truly, but which exists only as a reflection of the
Absolute?"
"You did a pretty good job of it, though, even if, as you say, it was
only a rearrangement."
"Thank you."
"But why did you do it? . . . And I'd prefer an answer to a tract."
"I intended to wipe out the entire hierarchy of Heaven. It would seem
now, though, that this must go the way of all good intentions."
"Tell me why you did it."
"If you'll tell me how you found me out. . ."
"Fair enough. Tell me, why?"
"I decided that mankind could live better without gods. If I disposed
of them all, people could start having can openers and cans to open again,
and things like that, without fearing the wrath of Heaven. We've stepped on
these poor fools enough. I wanted to give them a chance to be free, to build
what they wanted."
"But they live, and they live and they live."
"Sometimes, and sometimes not. So do the gods."
"You were about the last Accelerationist left in the world, Sam. No one
would have thought you were also the deadliest."
"How did you find me out?"
"It occurred to me that Sam would be the number one suspect, except for
the fact that he was dead."
"I had assumed that to be sufficient defense against detection."
"So I asked myself if there was any means by which Sam could have
escaped death. I could think of none, other than a change of bodies. Who, I
then asked myself, took upon him a new body the day Sam died? There was only
Lord Murugan. This did not seem logical, however, because he did it after
Sam's death, not before it. I dismissed that part for a moment. You--
Murugan-- having been among the thirty-seven suspects, were probed and
passed upon as innocent by Lord Yama. It seemed I had surely taken to a
false trail then -- until I thought of a very simple way to test the notion.
Yama can beat the psych-probe himself, so why could not someone else be able
to do it? I recalled at this point that Kalkin's Attribute had involved the
control of lightnings and electromagnetic phenomena. He could have sabotaged
the machine with his mind so that it saw there no evil. The way of testing
it, therefore, was not to consider what the machine had read, but rather how
it had read it. Like the prints of the palms and the fingers of the hands,
no two minds register the same patterns; But from body to body one does
retain a similar mind-matrix, despite the fact that a different brain's
involved. Regardless of the thoughts passing through the mind, the thought
patterns record themselves unique to the person. I compared yours with a
record of Murugan's which I found in Yama's laboratory. They were not the
same. I do not know how you accomplished the body-change, but I knew you for
what you were."
"Very clever, Kubera. Who else is familiar with this strange
reasoning?"
"No one, yet. Yama, soon though, I fear. He always solves problems."
"Why do you place your life in jeopardy by seeking me thus?"
"One does not generally achieve your age, my age, without being
somewhat reasonable. I knew you would at least listen to me before striking.
I know, too, that since what I have to say is good no harm will come to me."
"What do you propose?"
"I am sufficiently sympathetic with what you have done to assist you in
escaping from Heaven."
"Thank you, no."
"You would like to win this contest, would you not?"
"Yes, and I'll do it in my own way."
"How?"
"I will return to the City now and destroy as many of them as I can
before they stop me. If enough of the great ones fall, the others will not
be able to hold this place together."
"And if you fall? What then of the world, and of the cause you have
championed? Will you be able to rise again to defend it?"
"I do not know."
"How did you manage the comeback?"
"One time was I possessed of a demon. He rather took a liking to me,
and he told me at a time when we were in peril that he had 'strengthened my
flames,' so that I could exist independent of my body. I had forgotten this
until I saw my mangled corpse lying beneath me upon the streets of Heaven. I
knew of only one place where I might get me another body, that being the
Pavilion of the Gods of Karma. Murugan was there demanding service. As you
say, my power is electrodirection. I learned there that it works without a
brain to back it, as the circuits were momentarily interrupted and I went
into Murugan's new body and Murugan went to hell."
"The fact that you tell me all of this seems to indicate that you
intend to send me after him."
"I am sorry, good Kubera, for I like you. If you will give me your word
that you will forget what you have learned and that you will wait for some
other to discover it, then I will permit you to live and depart."
"Risky."
"I know that you have never given your word and broken it, though you
are as old as the hills of Heaven."
"Who is the first god you would slay?"
"Lord Yama, of course, for he must be closest upon my heels."
"Then must you kill me, Sam, for he is a brother Lokapala and my
friend."
"I am sure we will both regret it if I have to kill you."
"Then has your acquaintanceship with the Rakasha perhaps given you some
of their taste for a wager?"
"Of what sort?"
"You win, and you have my word not to speak of this. I win, and you
flee with me upon the back of Garuda."
"And of the contest?"
"Irish stand-down."
"With you, fat Kubera? And me in my magnificent new body?"
"Yes."
"Then you may strike first."
On a dark hill on the far side of Heaven, Sam and Kubera stood facing
one another.
Kubera drew back his right fist and sent it forward against Sam's jaw.
Sam fell, lay still for a moment, rose slowly to his feet.
Rubbing his jaw, he returned to the spot where he had stood.
"You are stronger than you seem, Kubera," he said, and struck forward.
Kubera lay upon the ground, sucking in air.
He tried to rise, thought better of it, moaned once, then struggled
back to his feet.
"I didn't think you'd get up," said Sam.
Kubera moved to face him, a dark, moist line descending his chin.
As he took his ground, Sam flinched.
Kubera waited, still breathing deeply.
Run down the gray night wall. Flee! Beneath a rock. Hide! The fury
turns thy bowels to water. The friction of this crossing grates upon thy
spine. . . .
"Strike!" said Sam, and Kubera smiled and hit him.
He lay there quivering, and the voices of the night, compounded of
insect sounds and the wind and the sighing of grasses came to him.
Tremble, like the last loosening leaf of the year. There is a lump of
ice in thy chest. There are no words within thy brain, only the colors of
panic move there. . . .
Sam shook his head and rose to his knees.
Fall again, curl thyself into a ball and weep. For this is how man
began, and this is how he ends. The universe is a black ball, rolling. It
crusheth what it toucheth. It rolls to thee. Flee! Thou might a moment gain,
an hour perhaps, before it comes upon thee. . . .
He raised his hands to his face, lowered them, glared up at Kubera,
stood.
"You built the room called Fear," he said, "at the Pavilion of Silence.
I remember now your power, old god. It is not sufficient."
An invisible horse races through pastures of thy mind. Thou knowest him
by his hoof marks, each of which is a wound. . . .
Sam took his position, clenched his fist.
The sky creaks above thee. The ground may open beneath thy feet. And
what is that tall, shadowlike thing that comes to stand at thy back?
Sam's fist shook, but he drove it forward.
Kubera rocked back upon his heels and his head snapped to the side, but
he did not lose his footing.
Sam stood there trembling as Kubera drew back his right arm for the
final blow.
"Old god, you cheat," he said.
Kubera smiled through his blood, and his fist came forward like a black
ball.
Yama was talking to Ratri when the cry of awakened Garuda broke the
night.
"This thing has never happened before," he said.
Slowly, the heavens began to open.
"Perhaps Lord Vishnu goes forth. . ."
"He has never done so at night. And when I spoke with him a short time
ago he said nothing of this."
"Then some other god would dare his mount."
"No! To the pens, Lady! Quickly! I may have need of thy powers."
He dragged her forward with him, toward the steel aerie of the Bird.
Garuda was awake and untethered, but the hood was still upon him.
Kubera, who had carried Sam to the pens, strapped him into the saddle seat,
still unconscious.
He climbed down to the floor and activated a final control. The top of
the cage rolled away. Then he took up the long metal pinion hook and moved
back to the rope ladder. The bird smell was overpowering. Garuda shifted
restlessly and ruffled feathers twice the size of a man.
Slowly, he climbed. As he was strapping himself into place, Yama and
Ratri approached the cage.
"Kubera! What madness is this?" cried Yama. "You have never been fond
of the heights!"
"Urgent business, Yama," he replied, "and it would take a day to finish
servicing the thunder chariot."
"What business, Kubera? And why not take a gondola?"
"Garuda's faster. I'll tell you about it on my return."
"Perhaps I can be of help."
"No. Thank you."
"But Lord Murugan can?"
"In this case, yes."
"You two were never on the best of terms."
"Nor are we now. But I have need of his services."
"Hail, Murugan!. . . Why does he not reply?"
"He sleeps, Yama."
"There is blood upon your face, brother."
"I had a small accident earlier."
"And Murugan appears somewhat mishandled also."
"It was the same accident."
"Something is amiss here, Kubera. Wait, I'm coming into the cage."
"Stay out, Yama!"
"The Lokapalas do not order one another about. We are equals."
"Stay out, Yama! I'm raising Garuda's hood!"
"Don't do it!"
Yama's eyes suddenly flashed and he stood taller within his red.
Kubera leaned forward with the hook and raised the hood from the Bird's
high head. Garuda threw his head back and cried once more.
"Ratri," said Yama, "lay shadows upon Garuda's eyes, that he may not
see."
Yama moved toward the entrance of the cage. Darkness, like a
thundercloud, hid the head of the Bird.
"Ratri!" said Kubera. "Lift this darkness and lay it upon Yama, or all
is lost!"
Ratri hesitated only a moment, and this was done.
"Come to me quickly!" he cried. "Come mount Garuda and ride with us! We
need you, badly!"
She entered the cage and was lost to sight, as the darkness kept
spreading and spreading, like a pool of ink, Yama groping his way through
it.
The ladder jerked and swayed, and Ratri mounted Garuda.
Garuda screamed then and leapt into the air, for Yama had moved
forward, blade in hand, and had cut at the first thing he had felt.
The night rushed about them and Heaven lay far below.
When they reached a mighty height, the dome began to close.
Garuda sped toward the gate, screaming again.
They were through it before it closed, and Kubera prodded the Bird.
"Where are we going?" asked Ratri.
"To Keenset, by the river Vedra," he answered. "And this is Sam. He is
still alive."
"What has happened?"
"He is the one Yama seeks."
"Will he seek him in Keenset?"
"Doubtless, lady. Doubtless. But ere he finds him, we may be better
prepared."
In the days that preceded the Great Battle, the defenders came to
Keenset. Kubera and Sam and Ratri brought the warning. Keenset was already
aware of the raising of its neighbors, but not of the heavenly avengers who
were to come.
Sam drilled the troops who would fight against gods, and Kubera drilled
those who would fight against men.
Black armor was forged for the goddess of Night, of whom it has been
said, "Guard us from the she-wolf and the wolf, and guard us from the thief,
of Night."
And on the third day there was a tower of fire before Sam's tent on the
plane outside the city.
"It is the Lord of Hellwell come to keep his promise, oh Siddhartha!"
said the voice that rang within his head.
"Taraka! How did you find me-- recognize me?"
"I look upon the flames, which are your true being, not the flesh which
masks them. You know that."
"I thought you dead."
"I nearly was. Those two do drink life with their eyes! Even the life
of one such as I."
"I told you that. Do you bring your legions with you?"
"Yes, I bring my legions."
"It is good. The gods will move against this place soon."
"I know. Many times have I visited Heaven atop its mountain of ice, and
my spies remain there yet. So I know that they make ready to come to this
place. They also invite humans to share in the battle. Though they do not
feel they need the assistance of men, they think it good that they join in
the destruction of the city Keenset."
"Yes, that is understandable," said Sam, studying the great vortex of
yellow flame. "What other news have you?"
"The One in Red comes."
"I expected him."
"To his death. I must defeat him."
"He will have demon-repellant upon him."
"Then I will find a way to remove it, or kill him from a distance. He
will be here by nightfall."
"How does he come?"
"In a flying machine-- not so large as the chariot of thunder we tried
to steal-- but very fast. I could not attack it in flight."
"Comes he alone?"
"Yes-- save for machines."
"Machines?"
"Many machines. His flying machine is filled with strange equipment."
"This may bode ill."
The tower spun orange.
"But others come also."
"You just said he comes alone."
"This is true."
"Then riddle me your true meaning."
"The others do not come from Heaven."
"Where, then?"
"I have traveled much since your departure for Heaven, going up and
down in the world and seeking allies among those who also hate the Gods of
the City. By the way, in your last incarnation I did try to save you from
the cats out of Kaniburrha."
"I know."
"The gods are strong-- stronger than they have ever been before."
"But tell me who is coming to aid us."
"Lord Nirriti the Black, who hates all things, hates the Gods of the
City most of all. So he is sending a thousand unliving ones to fight on the
plains beside the Vedra. He said that, after the battle, we of the Rakasha
may take our choice from the bodies which yet remain among the mindless ones
he has grown."
"I do not relish aid from the Black One, but I am in no position to
discriminate. How soon will these arrive?"
"Tonight. But Dalissa will be here sooner. Even now, I feel her
approaching."
"Dalissa? Who . . . ?"
"The last of the Mothers of the Terrible Glow. She alone escaped into
the depths when Durga and Lord Kalkin rode to the dome by the sea. All her
eggs were smashed and she can lay no more, but she bears within her body the
burning power of the sea-glow."
"And you think she would aid me?"
"She would aid no other. She is the last of her kind. She will only
assist a peer."
"Then know that the one who was known as Durga now wears the body of
Brahma, chief among our enemies."
"Yes, which makes both of you men. She might have taken the other side,
had Kali remained a woman. But she has committed herself now. You were her
choice."
"That helps to even things a bit."
"The Rakasha herd elephants and slizzards and great cats at this time,
to drive against our enemies."
"Good."
"And they summon fire elementals."
"Very good."
"Dalissa is near here now. She will wait at the bottom of the river, to
rise up when she is needed."
"Say hello to her for me," said Sam, turning to re-enter his tent.
"I will."
He dropped the flap behind him.
When the God of Death came down out of the sky onto the plains beside
the Vedra, Taraka of the Rakasha set upon him in the form of a great cat out
of Kaniburrha.
But immediately he fell back. The demon repellant lay upon Yama, and
Taraka could not close with him because of it.
The Rakasha swirled away, dropping the cat form he had assumed, to
become a whirlwind of silver motes.
"Deathgod!" the word exploded in Yama's head. "Remember Hellwell?"
Immediately, rocks and stones and sandy soil were sucked up into the
vortex and hurled across the air toward Yama, who swirled his cloak and
muffled his eyes with its hem, but did not otherwise stir.
After a time, the fury died.
Yama had not moved. The ground about him was strewn with debris, but
none lay near him.
Yama lowered his cloak and glared into the whirlwind.
"What sorcery is this?" came the words. "How is it you manage to
stand?"
Yama continued to stare at Taraka. "How is it you manage to swirl?" he
asked.
"I am greatest among the Rakasha. I bore your death-gaze before."
"And I am greatest among the gods. I stood against your entire legion
at Hellwell."
"You are a lackey to Trimurti."
"You are wrong. I have come here to fight against Heaven, in this
place, in the name of Accelerationism. Great is my hatred, and I have
brought weapons to be used against Trimurti."
"Then I suppose I must forego the pleasure of continuing our combat at
this time . . ."
"I should deem it advisable."
"And you doubtless wish to be taken to our leader?"
"I can find my own way."
"Then, until we meet again. Lord Yama. . ."
"Good-bye, Rakasha."
Taraka shot like a burning arrow into the heavens and was gone from
sight.
Some say that Yama had solved his case as he stood there in the great
birdcage, amidst the darkness and the droppings. Others say that he
duplicated Kubera's reasoning a short while later, using the tapes in the
Vasty Hall of Death. Whichever it was, when he entered the tent on the
plains by the Vedra he greeted the man inside with the name Sam. This man
laid his hand upon his blade and faced him.
"Death, you precede the battle," he said.
"There has been a change," Yama replied.
"What sort of change?"
"Position. I have come here to oppose the will of Heaven."
"In what way?"
"Steel. Fire. Blood."
"Why this change?"
"Divorces are made in Heaven. And betrayals. And shamings. The lady has
gone too far, and I know now the reason, Lord Kalkin. I neither embrace your
Accelerationism nor do I reject it. Its only mattering to me is that it
represents the one force in the world to oppose Heaven. I will join you,
with this understanding, if you will accept my blade."
"I accept your blade. Lord Yama."
"And I will raise it against any of the heavenly horde-- saving only
Brahma himself, whom I will not face."
"Agreed."
"Then permit me to serve as your charioteer."
"I would, only I have no chariot of battle."
"I brought one, a very special one. For a long time have I labored upon
it, and it is not yet complete. But it will suffice. I must assemble it this
night, however, for the battle will commence tomorrow at dawn."
"I have felt that it might. The Rakasha have warned me as to the
movement of troops near here."
"Yes, I saw them as I passed overhead. The main attack should come from
the northeast, across the plains. The gods will join in later. But there
will doubtless be parties coming from all directions, including up the
river."
"We control the river. Dalissa of the Glow waits at its bottom. When
the time comes, she can raise up mighty waves, making it to boil and
overflow its banks."
"I had thought the Glow extinguished!"
"Save for her, it is. She is the last."
"I take it the Rakasha will be fighting with us?"
"Yes, and others . . ."
"What others?"
"I have accepted assistance-- bodies without minds-- a war party of
such-- from Lord Nirriti."
Yama's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared.
"This is not good, Siddhartha. Sooner or later, he will have to be
destroyed, and it is not good to be in the debt of such a one."
"I know that, Yama, but I am desperate. They arrive tonight . . ."
"If we win, Siddhartha, toppling the Celestial City, breaking the old
religion, freeing man for industrial progress, still will there be
opposition. Nirriti, who has waited all these centuries for the passing of
the gods, will then have to be fought and beaten himself. It will either be
this or the same thing all over again -- and at least the Gods of the City
have some measure of grace in their unfair doings."
"I think he would have come to our assistance whether invited or not."
"Yes, but by inviting him, or accepting his offer, you owe him this
thing."
"Then I will have to deal with that situation when it arises."
"That's politics, I guess. But I like it not."
Sam poured them of the sweet dark wine of Keenset. "I think Kubera
would like to see you later," he said, offering a goblet.
"What is he doing?" asked Yama, accepting it and draining it off in a
single swallow.
"Drilling troops and giving classes on the internal combustion engine
to all the local savants," said Sam. "Even if we lose, some may live and go
elsewhere."
"If it is to be put to any use, they will need to know more than engine
design . . ."
"He's been talking himself hoarse for days, and the scribes are taking
it all down-- geology, mining, metallurgy, petroleum chemistry . . ."
"Had we more time, I would give my assistance. As it is, if ten per
cent is retained it may be sufficient. Not tomorrow, or even the next day,
but. . ."
Sam finished his wine, refilled the goblets. "To the morrow,
charioteer!"
"To the blood. Binder, to the blood and the killing!"
"Some of the blood may be our own, deathgod. But so long as we take
sufficient of the enemy with us. . ."
"I cannot die, Siddhartha, save by my own choosing."
"How can that be, Lord Yama?"
"Let Death keep his own small secrets. Binder. For I may choose not to
exercise my option in this battle."
"As you would, Lord."
"To your health and long life!"
"To yours."
The day of the battle dawned pink as the fresh-bitten thigh of a
maiden.
A small mist drifted in from the river. The Bridge of the Gods
glistened all of gold in the east, reached back, darkening, into retreating
night, divided the heavens like a burning equator.
The warriors of Keenset waited outside the city, upon the plain by the
Vedra. Five thousand men, with blades and bows, pikes and slings, waited for
the battle. A thousand zombies stood in the front ranks, led by the living
sergeants of the Black One, who guided all their movements by the drum,
scarves of black silk curling in the breeze like snakes of smoke upon their
helms.
Five hundred lancers were held to the rear. The silver cyclones that
were the Rakasha hung in the middle air. Across the half-lit world the
occasional growl of a jungle beast could be heard. Fire elementals glowed
upon tree limb, lance and pennon pole.
There were no clouds in the heavens. The grasses of the plain were
still moist and sparkling. The air was cool, the ground still soft enough to
gather footprints readily. Gray and green and yellow were the colors that
smote the eye beneath the heavens; and the Vedra swirled within its banks,
gathering leaves from its escort of trees. It is said that each day
recapitulates the history of the world, coming up out of darkness and cold
into confused light and beginning warmth, consciousness blinking its eyes
somewhere in midmorning, awakening thoughts a jumble of illogic and
unattached emotion, and all speeding together toward the order of noontide,
the slow, poignant decline of dusk, the mystical vision of twilight, the end
of entropy that is night once more.
The day began.
A dark line was visible at the far end of the field. A trumpet note cut
the air and that line advanced.
Sam stood in his battle chariot at the head of the formation, wearing
burnished armor and holding a long, gray lance of death. He heard the words
of Death, who wore red and was his charioteer:
"Their first wave is of slizzard cavalry."
Sam squinted at the distant line.
"It is," said his charioteer.
"Very well."
He gestured with his lance, and the Rakasha moved forward like a tidal
wave of white light. The zombies began their advance.
When the white wave and the dark line came together there was a
confusion of voices, hisses and the rattle of arms.
The dark line halted, great gouts of dust fuming above it.
Then came the sounds of the aroused jungle as the gathered beasts of
prey were driven upon the flank of the enemy.
making clear waters muddy."
"Yes," said Shiva.
"Accelerationism? Why kick a dead dog?"
"Ah, but it is not dead. Not down among men. And it will also serve to
direct attention away from the succession within Trimurti and regain at
least surface solidarity here in the City. Unless, of course, you'd rather
undertake a campaign against Nirriti and his zombies?"
"No thanks."
"Not now."
"Mmm . . . yes, then Accelerationism is our greatest problem at the
present time."
"All right. Accelerationism is our greatest problem."
"Who hates it more than anyone else?"
"Yourself?"
"Nonsense. Except me."
"Tell us, Ganesha."
"Kali."
"I doubt this."
"I do not. The twin beasts, Buddhism and Accelerationism, draw a single
chariot. The Buddha scorned her. She is a woman. She will carry on the
campaign."
"It will mean renouncing her womanhood."
"Speak to me not of trifles."
"All right-- Kali."
"But what of Yama?"
"What of him? Leave Yama to me."
"I'd rather."
"I also."
"Very well. Go you then forth across the world, within the thunder
chariot and upon the back of the great bird Garuda. Find Yama and Kali.
Return them to Heaven. I will wait upon your return and consider the matter
of Brahma's passing."
"So be it."
"Agreed."
"Good morning."
"Good merchant Vama, wait! I would have words with thee."
"Yea, Kabada. What wouldst thou?"
"It is difficult to find the words I would have with thee. But they do
concern a certain state of affairs which hath aroused considerable sentiment
on the parts of thy various adjacent neighbors."
"Oh? Speak on then."
"Concerning the atmosphere . . ."
"The atmosphere?"
"The winds and breezes, perhaps . . ."
"Winds? Breezes?"
"And the things they bear."
"Things? Such as. . . ?"
"Odors, good Vama."
"Odors? What odors?"
"Odors of-- well, odors of-- of fecal matter."
"Of . . . ? Oh! Yes. True. True enough. There may be a few such. I had
forgotten, having grown used to them."
"Might I inquire as to their cause?"
"They are caused by the product of defecation, Kabada."
"Of this I am aware. I meant to make inquiry as to why they are
present, rather than their source and nature."
"They are present because of the buckets in my back room, which are
filled with such -- items."
"Oh?"
"Yes. I have been saving the products of my family in this manner. I
have been doing this for the past eight days."
"Against what use, worthy Vama?"
"Hast thou not heard of a thing, a wondrous thing, a thing into which
these items are discharged-- into water-- and then a lever pulled, and then,
with a mighty rushing sound, these things are borne away, far beneath the
ground?"
"I have heard some talk of such .. ."
"Oh, 'tis true, 'tis true. There is such a thing. It has but recently
been invented by one whom I should not name, and it involves great pipes and
a seat without a bottom, or a top, really. It is the most wonderful
discovery of the age-- and I will have me one within a matter of moons!"
"Thou? Such a thing?"
"Yea. It shall be installed in the small room I have built onto the
back of my home. I may even give a dinner that night and permit all my
neighbors to take use of it."
"This is indeed wondrous-- and thou generous."
"I feel so."
"But-- of the-- smells. . . ?"
"They are caused by the buckets of items, which I am preserving against
the installation of this thing."
"Why?"
"I should rather have it on my karmic record that this thing was used
for these items beginning with eight days ago, rather than several moons
from now. It will show my rapid advancement in life."
"Ah! I see now the wisdom of thy ways, Vama. I did not wish it to
appear that we stood in the way of any man who seeks to better himself.
Forgive me if I gave this impression."
"Thou art forgiven."
"Thy neighbors do love thee, smells and all. When thou art advanced to
a higher state, please remember this."
"Of course."
"Such progress must be expensive."
"Quite."
"Worthy Vama, we shall take delight in the atmosphere, with all its
pungent portents."
"This is only my second lifetime, good Kabada, but already I feel that
destiny touches upon me."
"And I, also. The winds of Time do shift, and they bear to mankind many
wondrous things. The gods keep thee."
"Thou also. But forget not the blessing of the Enlightened One, whom my
second cousin Vasu sheltered in his purple grove."
"How could I? Mahasamatman was a god also. Some say Vishnu."
"They lie. He was the Buddha."
"Add then his blessings."
"Very good. Good day, Kabada."
"Good day, worthy one."
Yama and Kali entered into Heaven. They descended upon the Celestial
City on the back of the bird called Garuda. In the company of Vishnu, they
entered into the City. They did not pause for any purpose, but went directly
to the Pavilion of Brahma. In the Garden of Joys they met with Shiva and
with Ganesha.
"Hear me, Death and Destruction," said Ganesha, "Brahma is dead and
only we five now know of it."
"How did this thing come to pass?" asked Yama.
"It appears that he was poisoned."
"Has there been an autopsy?"
"No."
"Then I shall perform one."
"Good. But now there is another matter, of even graver consideration."
"Name it."
"His successor."
"Yes. Heaven cannot be without a Brahma."
"Exactly. . . . Kali, tell me, would you consider being Brahma, of the
golden saddle and silver spurs?"
"I don't know . . ."
"Then begin thinking about it, and quickly. You are considered the best
choice."
"What of Lord Agni?"
"Not so high on the list. It does not appear he is so
anti-Accelerationist as Madam Kali."
"I see."
"And I."
"Therefore, he is a good god, but not a great one."
"Yes. Who might have killed Brahma?"
"I have no idea. Have you?"
"Not yet."
"But you will find him, Lord Yama?"
"Aye, with my Aspect upon me."
"You two may wish to confer."
"We do."
"Then will we leave you now. An hour hence we shall dine together in
the Pavilion."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Till then. . ."
"Till then."
"Till then."
"Lady?"
"Yes?"
"With a changing of bodies one is automatically divorced, unless a
continuation contract be signed."
"Yes."
"Brahma must needs be a man."
"Yes."
"Refuse it."
"My Lord . . ."
"You hesitate?"
"It is all so sudden, Yama . . ."
"You pause even to consider it?"
"I must."
"Kali, you distress me."
"Such was not my intention."
"And I bid you refuse the offer."
"I am a goddess in my own right, as well as your wife, Lord Yama."
"What does that mean?"
"I make my own decisions."
"If you accept. Kali, then all things are come to an end between us."
"That is apparent."
"What, in the names of the Rishis, is Accelerationism but a storm over
an ant hill? Why are they suddenly so against it?"
"It must be that they feel a need to be against something."
"Why choose you to head it?"
"I do not know."
"Unless there is some special reason for you to be
anti-Accelerationist, my dear?"
"I do not know."
"I am but young, as gods go, but I have heard it said that in the early
days of the world the hero with whom you rode-- Kalkin -- was the same as
the one called Sam. If you had reason to hate your ancient Lord, and Sam was
truly he, then could I see their enlisting you against this thing he had
started. Might this be true?"
"It might."
"Then if you love me-- and you are truly my lady-- then let another be
Brahma."
"Yama . . ."
"They will want a decision within the hour."
"And I will have one for them."
"What will it be?"
"I am sorry, Yama . . ."
Yama departed the Garden of Joys before dinnertime. Though it seemed an
unhealthy breach of etiquette, Yama, among all the gods, was deemed hardest
to discipline and was aware of this fact, as well as the reasons that lay
behind it. So he left the Garden of Joys and journeyed to the place where
Heaven stops.
He dwelled that day and that night at Worldsend, nor was he disturbed
by any callers. He spent time in each of the five rooms in the Pavilion of
Silence. His thoughts being his own, you leave them alone, too. In the
morning, he returned to the Celestial City.
There, he learned of the death of Shiva.
His trident had burnt another hole in the dome, but his head had been
smashed in by means of a blunt instrument, as yet unlocated.
Yama went to his friend Kubera. "Ganesha, Vishnu and the new Brahma
have already approached Agni, to fill the place of the Destroyer," said
Kubera. "I believe he will accept."
"Excellent, for Agni," said Yama. "Who killed God?"
"I have thought much upon it," said Kubera, "and I believe that in the
case of Brahma it must have been someone with whom he was sufficiently
familiar to have taken refreshment, and in the case of Shiva, someone well
enough known to have surprised him. More than this deponent knoweth not."
"The same person?"
"I'd bet money."
"Could it be part of an Accelerationist plot?"
"I find this difficult to believe. Those who are sympathetic to
Accelerationism have no real organization. Accelerationism is returned too
recently to Heaven for it to amount to more than that. A cabal, perhaps.
Most likely a single individual did it, independent of backers."
"What other reasons might be present?"
"A vendetta. Or some minor deity out to become a major one. Why does
anybody kill anybody?"
"Can you think of anyone in particular?"
"The biggest problem, Yama, will be eliminating suspects, not finding
them. Has the investigation been given into your hands?"
"I am no longer certain. I think so. But I will find who did it,
whatever his station, and kill him."
"Why?"
"I have need of something to do, someone to. . ."
"Kill?"
"Yes."
"I am sorry, my friend."
"I, also. It is my privilege and my intention, however."
"I wish you had not spoken with me at all, concerning this matter. It
is obviously quite confidential."
"I won't tell anyone if you won't."
"I assure you I shan't"
"And you know I'll take care of the karmic trackings, against the
psych-probe."
"That is why I mentioned it, and spoke of Shiva also. Let it be so."
"Good day, my friend."
"Good day, Yama."
Yama departed the Pavilion of the Lokapalas. After a time, the goddess
Ratri entered there.
"Hail, Kubera."
"Hail, Ratri."
"Why sit you there alone?"
"Because I have none to make me unalone. Why come you here -- alone?"
"Because I had none to talk with, till now."
"Seek you counsel, or conversation?"
"Both."
"Sit down."
"Thank you. I am afraid."
"Are you hungry, too?"
"No."
"Have a piece of fruit and a cup of soma."
"All right."
"What is it that you fear, and how may I help you?"
"I saw Lord Yama leaving here . . ."
"Yes."
"I realized when I looked upon his face that there is a god of Death,
and that there is a power which even gods might fear . . ."
"Yama is strong, and he is my friend. Death is mighty, and is no one's
friend. The two exist together though, and it is strange. Agni is strong
also, and is Fire. He is my friend. Krishna could be strong if he wished.
But he never wishes so. He wears out bodies at a fantastic rate. He drinks
soma and makes music and women. He hates the past and the future. He is my
friend. I am least among the Lokapalas, and I am not strong. Whatever body I
wear goes quickly to fat. I am more father than brother to my three friends.
Of them, I can appreciate the drunkenness and the music and the loving and
the fire, for these are things of life, and so can I love my friends as men
or as gods. But the other Yama makes me to be afraid, also, Ratri. For when
he takes upon him his Aspect he is a vacuum, which sets this poor fat
a-tremble. Then he is no one's friend. So do not feel awkward if you fear my
friend. You know that when a god is troubled, then his Aspect rushes to
comfort him, oh goddess of the Night, as even now it becomes twilight within
this bower, though the day is far from ended. Know that you passed a
troubled Yama."
"He returned fairly suddenly."
"Yes."
"May I ask why?"
"I am afraid the matter is confidential."
"Does it concern Brahma?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I believe Brahma is dead. I fear that Yama was summoned to find his
slayer. I fear he will find me, though I call down a century of night upon
Heaven. He will find me, and I cannot face the vacuum."
"What do you know regarding this alleged slaying?"
"I believe I was either the last to see Brahma alive or the first to
see him dead, depending upon what his twitching signified."
"What were the circumstances?"
"I had gone to his Pavilion early yesterday morning, to intercede with
him that he might lift his wrath and permit the return of Lady Parvati. I
was told to seek him in the Garden of His Joys, and I walked there-- "
"Told? Who told you?"
"One of his women. I don't know her name."
"Go ahead. What happened then?"
"I found him at the foot of the blue statue which plays upon the veena.
He was twitching. There was no breathing. Then he stopped twitching even and
was still. There was no heartbeat and no pulse that I could feel. So I
called back a portion of the night to cloak me in shadows and departed the
Garden."
"Why did you not summon assistance? It still might not have been too
late."
"Because I wanted him to die, of course. I hated him for what he did to
Sam, and for the driving away of Parvati and Varuna, and for what he did to
the Archivist, Tak, and for-- "
"Enough. One could go on all day thus. Did you depart directly from the
Garden, or did you stop back at the Pavilion?"
"I passed the Pavilion and saw the same girl. I made myself visible to
her and told her that I could not locate Brahma and would return later. . .
. He is dead, isn't he? What shall I do now?"
"Have another piece of fruit and some more soma. Yes, he's dead."
"Will Yama come after me?"
"Of course. He will go after everyone who was seen anywhere near there.
It was doubtless a reasonably quick-acting poison, and you were there right
near the time of death. So naturally he will go after you-- and he will have
you psych-probed, along with all the others. This will reveal that you did
not do it. So I suggest you simply await being called into custody. Do not
tell anyone else this story."
"What shall I tell Yama?"
"If he reaches you before I reach him, tell him everything, including
the fact that you have spoken with me. This is because I am not even
supposed to know that this thing has occurred. The passing of one among
Trimurti is always kept secret for as long as possible, even at the expense
of lives."
"But the Lords of Karma would read it from your memory when you stood
to a judgment."
"Just so they do not read it from your memory today. The knowledge of
Brahma's passing will be kept to as small a group as possible. Since Yama
may be conducting the official investigation and is also the designer of the
psych-probe, I don't think any yellow wheel people will be dragged in to run
the machines. Still, I must confirm this fact with Yama-- or suggest it to
him -- immediately."
"Before you go . . ."
"Yes?"
"You said that only a few may know of this thing, even if lives must be
spent. Does this mean that I. . . ?"
"No. You will live, because I will protect you."
"Why will you?"
"Because you are my friend."
Yama operated the machine that probes the mind. He probed thirty-seven
subjects, all of whom could have had access to Brahma in his Garden during
the entire day prior to the deicide. Of these, eleven were gods or
goddesses, including Ratri, Sarasvati, Vayu, Mara, Lakshmi, Murugan, Agni
and Krishna.
Of these thirty-seven, gods and men, none was found to be guilty.
Kubera the artificer stood at Yama's side, and he regarded the
psych-tapes.
"What now, Yama?"
"I do not know."
"Mayhap the killer was invisible."
"Perhaps."
"But you think not?"
"I think not."
"Supposing everybody in the City were made to stand the probe?"
"There are many arrivals and departures every day, via many entrances
and exits."
"Have you given thought to the possibility of its having been one of
the Rakasha? They are again abroad in the world, as well you know-- and they
hate us."
"The Rakasha do not poison their victims. Also, I do not believe one
could enter the Garden, because of the demon-repelling incense."
"What now?"
"I shall return to my laboratory, and think."
"May I accompany you to the Vasty Hall of Death?"
"If you wish."
Kubera returned with Yama; and while Yama thought, Kubera perused his
master-tapes index, which he had set up when experimenting with the first
probe-machines. They were discarded, they were incomplete, of course; only
the Lords of Karma kept up to date life-record tapes on everyone in the
Celestial City. Kubera knew this, of course.
The printing press was rediscovered in a place called Keenset, by the
river Vedra. Experiments with sophisticated plumbing were also going on in
this place. Two very fine Temple artists also appeared on the scene, and an
old glasscutter made a pair of bifocals and began grinding out more.
Therefore, indications were that one of the city-states was undergoing a
renaissance.
Brahma decided it was time to move against Accelerationism.
A war party was raised in Heaven, and the Temples of cities adjacent to
Keenset sent out the call to the faithful to be ready for a holy war.
Shiva the Destroyer bore only a token trident, for his real faith lay
with the wand of fire that he wore at his side.
Brahma, of the golden saddle and silver spurs, bore a sword, a wheel
and a bow.
The new Rudra bore the bow and quiver of the old.
Lord Mara wore a shimmering cloak, which changed colors constantly, and
none could tell what manner of weapons he bore or what sort of chariot he
mounted. For to stare upon him overlong was to feel one's head swim, and
things changed their shapes about him, save for his horses, whose mouths
constantly dripped blood, which smoked where it fell.
Then, from among the demigods were fifty chosen, still struggling to
discipline erratic Attributes, eager to strengthen Aspect and gain merit
through battle.
Krishna declined battle and went off to play his pipes in Kaniburrha.
He found him lying upon a grassy hillside beyond the City, staring up
into the star-filled sky.
"Good evening."
He turned his head and nodded.
"How goes it with you, good Kubera?"
"Well enough, Lord Kalkin. And yourself?"
"Quite well. Have you a cigarette upon your most impressive person?"
"I am never far from them."
"Thank you."
"Light?"
"Yes."
"Was that a jackbird that circled the Buddha before Madam Kali tore his
guts out?"
"Let us speak of pleasanter matters."
"You killed a weak Brahma and a mighty one has replaced him."
"Oh?"
"You killed a strong Shiva, but an equal strength replaces his."
"Life is full of changes."
"What did you hope to gain? Revenge?"
"Revenge is part of the illusion of self. How can a man kill that which
neither lives nor dies truly, but which exists only as a reflection of the
Absolute?"
"You did a pretty good job of it, though, even if, as you say, it was
only a rearrangement."
"Thank you."
"But why did you do it? . . . And I'd prefer an answer to a tract."
"I intended to wipe out the entire hierarchy of Heaven. It would seem
now, though, that this must go the way of all good intentions."
"Tell me why you did it."
"If you'll tell me how you found me out. . ."
"Fair enough. Tell me, why?"
"I decided that mankind could live better without gods. If I disposed
of them all, people could start having can openers and cans to open again,
and things like that, without fearing the wrath of Heaven. We've stepped on
these poor fools enough. I wanted to give them a chance to be free, to build
what they wanted."
"But they live, and they live and they live."
"Sometimes, and sometimes not. So do the gods."
"You were about the last Accelerationist left in the world, Sam. No one
would have thought you were also the deadliest."
"How did you find me out?"
"It occurred to me that Sam would be the number one suspect, except for
the fact that he was dead."
"I had assumed that to be sufficient defense against detection."
"So I asked myself if there was any means by which Sam could have
escaped death. I could think of none, other than a change of bodies. Who, I
then asked myself, took upon him a new body the day Sam died? There was only
Lord Murugan. This did not seem logical, however, because he did it after
Sam's death, not before it. I dismissed that part for a moment. You--
Murugan-- having been among the thirty-seven suspects, were probed and
passed upon as innocent by Lord Yama. It seemed I had surely taken to a
false trail then -- until I thought of a very simple way to test the notion.
Yama can beat the psych-probe himself, so why could not someone else be able
to do it? I recalled at this point that Kalkin's Attribute had involved the
control of lightnings and electromagnetic phenomena. He could have sabotaged
the machine with his mind so that it saw there no evil. The way of testing
it, therefore, was not to consider what the machine had read, but rather how
it had read it. Like the prints of the palms and the fingers of the hands,
no two minds register the same patterns; But from body to body one does
retain a similar mind-matrix, despite the fact that a different brain's
involved. Regardless of the thoughts passing through the mind, the thought
patterns record themselves unique to the person. I compared yours with a
record of Murugan's which I found in Yama's laboratory. They were not the
same. I do not know how you accomplished the body-change, but I knew you for
what you were."
"Very clever, Kubera. Who else is familiar with this strange
reasoning?"
"No one, yet. Yama, soon though, I fear. He always solves problems."
"Why do you place your life in jeopardy by seeking me thus?"
"One does not generally achieve your age, my age, without being
somewhat reasonable. I knew you would at least listen to me before striking.
I know, too, that since what I have to say is good no harm will come to me."
"What do you propose?"
"I am sufficiently sympathetic with what you have done to assist you in
escaping from Heaven."
"Thank you, no."
"You would like to win this contest, would you not?"
"Yes, and I'll do it in my own way."
"How?"
"I will return to the City now and destroy as many of them as I can
before they stop me. If enough of the great ones fall, the others will not
be able to hold this place together."
"And if you fall? What then of the world, and of the cause you have
championed? Will you be able to rise again to defend it?"
"I do not know."
"How did you manage the comeback?"
"One time was I possessed of a demon. He rather took a liking to me,
and he told me at a time when we were in peril that he had 'strengthened my
flames,' so that I could exist independent of my body. I had forgotten this
until I saw my mangled corpse lying beneath me upon the streets of Heaven. I
knew of only one place where I might get me another body, that being the
Pavilion of the Gods of Karma. Murugan was there demanding service. As you
say, my power is electrodirection. I learned there that it works without a
brain to back it, as the circuits were momentarily interrupted and I went
into Murugan's new body and Murugan went to hell."
"The fact that you tell me all of this seems to indicate that you
intend to send me after him."
"I am sorry, good Kubera, for I like you. If you will give me your word
that you will forget what you have learned and that you will wait for some
other to discover it, then I will permit you to live and depart."
"Risky."
"I know that you have never given your word and broken it, though you
are as old as the hills of Heaven."
"Who is the first god you would slay?"
"Lord Yama, of course, for he must be closest upon my heels."
"Then must you kill me, Sam, for he is a brother Lokapala and my
friend."
"I am sure we will both regret it if I have to kill you."
"Then has your acquaintanceship with the Rakasha perhaps given you some
of their taste for a wager?"
"Of what sort?"
"You win, and you have my word not to speak of this. I win, and you
flee with me upon the back of Garuda."
"And of the contest?"
"Irish stand-down."
"With you, fat Kubera? And me in my magnificent new body?"
"Yes."
"Then you may strike first."
On a dark hill on the far side of Heaven, Sam and Kubera stood facing
one another.
Kubera drew back his right fist and sent it forward against Sam's jaw.
Sam fell, lay still for a moment, rose slowly to his feet.
Rubbing his jaw, he returned to the spot where he had stood.
"You are stronger than you seem, Kubera," he said, and struck forward.
Kubera lay upon the ground, sucking in air.
He tried to rise, thought better of it, moaned once, then struggled
back to his feet.
"I didn't think you'd get up," said Sam.
Kubera moved to face him, a dark, moist line descending his chin.
As he took his ground, Sam flinched.
Kubera waited, still breathing deeply.
Run down the gray night wall. Flee! Beneath a rock. Hide! The fury
turns thy bowels to water. The friction of this crossing grates upon thy
spine. . . .
"Strike!" said Sam, and Kubera smiled and hit him.
He lay there quivering, and the voices of the night, compounded of
insect sounds and the wind and the sighing of grasses came to him.
Tremble, like the last loosening leaf of the year. There is a lump of
ice in thy chest. There are no words within thy brain, only the colors of
panic move there. . . .
Sam shook his head and rose to his knees.
Fall again, curl thyself into a ball and weep. For this is how man
began, and this is how he ends. The universe is a black ball, rolling. It
crusheth what it toucheth. It rolls to thee. Flee! Thou might a moment gain,
an hour perhaps, before it comes upon thee. . . .
He raised his hands to his face, lowered them, glared up at Kubera,
stood.
"You built the room called Fear," he said, "at the Pavilion of Silence.
I remember now your power, old god. It is not sufficient."
An invisible horse races through pastures of thy mind. Thou knowest him
by his hoof marks, each of which is a wound. . . .
Sam took his position, clenched his fist.
The sky creaks above thee. The ground may open beneath thy feet. And
what is that tall, shadowlike thing that comes to stand at thy back?
Sam's fist shook, but he drove it forward.
Kubera rocked back upon his heels and his head snapped to the side, but
he did not lose his footing.
Sam stood there trembling as Kubera drew back his right arm for the
final blow.
"Old god, you cheat," he said.
Kubera smiled through his blood, and his fist came forward like a black
ball.
Yama was talking to Ratri when the cry of awakened Garuda broke the
night.
"This thing has never happened before," he said.
Slowly, the heavens began to open.
"Perhaps Lord Vishnu goes forth. . ."
"He has never done so at night. And when I spoke with him a short time
ago he said nothing of this."
"Then some other god would dare his mount."
"No! To the pens, Lady! Quickly! I may have need of thy powers."
He dragged her forward with him, toward the steel aerie of the Bird.
Garuda was awake and untethered, but the hood was still upon him.
Kubera, who had carried Sam to the pens, strapped him into the saddle seat,
still unconscious.
He climbed down to the floor and activated a final control. The top of
the cage rolled away. Then he took up the long metal pinion hook and moved
back to the rope ladder. The bird smell was overpowering. Garuda shifted
restlessly and ruffled feathers twice the size of a man.
Slowly, he climbed. As he was strapping himself into place, Yama and
Ratri approached the cage.
"Kubera! What madness is this?" cried Yama. "You have never been fond
of the heights!"
"Urgent business, Yama," he replied, "and it would take a day to finish
servicing the thunder chariot."
"What business, Kubera? And why not take a gondola?"
"Garuda's faster. I'll tell you about it on my return."
"Perhaps I can be of help."
"No. Thank you."
"But Lord Murugan can?"
"In this case, yes."
"You two were never on the best of terms."
"Nor are we now. But I have need of his services."
"Hail, Murugan!. . . Why does he not reply?"
"He sleeps, Yama."
"There is blood upon your face, brother."
"I had a small accident earlier."
"And Murugan appears somewhat mishandled also."
"It was the same accident."
"Something is amiss here, Kubera. Wait, I'm coming into the cage."
"Stay out, Yama!"
"The Lokapalas do not order one another about. We are equals."
"Stay out, Yama! I'm raising Garuda's hood!"
"Don't do it!"
Yama's eyes suddenly flashed and he stood taller within his red.
Kubera leaned forward with the hook and raised the hood from the Bird's
high head. Garuda threw his head back and cried once more.
"Ratri," said Yama, "lay shadows upon Garuda's eyes, that he may not
see."
Yama moved toward the entrance of the cage. Darkness, like a
thundercloud, hid the head of the Bird.
"Ratri!" said Kubera. "Lift this darkness and lay it upon Yama, or all
is lost!"
Ratri hesitated only a moment, and this was done.
"Come to me quickly!" he cried. "Come mount Garuda and ride with us! We
need you, badly!"
She entered the cage and was lost to sight, as the darkness kept
spreading and spreading, like a pool of ink, Yama groping his way through
it.
The ladder jerked and swayed, and Ratri mounted Garuda.
Garuda screamed then and leapt into the air, for Yama had moved
forward, blade in hand, and had cut at the first thing he had felt.
The night rushed about them and Heaven lay far below.
When they reached a mighty height, the dome began to close.
Garuda sped toward the gate, screaming again.
They were through it before it closed, and Kubera prodded the Bird.
"Where are we going?" asked Ratri.
"To Keenset, by the river Vedra," he answered. "And this is Sam. He is
still alive."
"What has happened?"
"He is the one Yama seeks."
"Will he seek him in Keenset?"
"Doubtless, lady. Doubtless. But ere he finds him, we may be better
prepared."
In the days that preceded the Great Battle, the defenders came to
Keenset. Kubera and Sam and Ratri brought the warning. Keenset was already
aware of the raising of its neighbors, but not of the heavenly avengers who
were to come.
Sam drilled the troops who would fight against gods, and Kubera drilled
those who would fight against men.
Black armor was forged for the goddess of Night, of whom it has been
said, "Guard us from the she-wolf and the wolf, and guard us from the thief,
of Night."
And on the third day there was a tower of fire before Sam's tent on the
plane outside the city.
"It is the Lord of Hellwell come to keep his promise, oh Siddhartha!"
said the voice that rang within his head.
"Taraka! How did you find me-- recognize me?"
"I look upon the flames, which are your true being, not the flesh which
masks them. You know that."
"I thought you dead."
"I nearly was. Those two do drink life with their eyes! Even the life
of one such as I."
"I told you that. Do you bring your legions with you?"
"Yes, I bring my legions."
"It is good. The gods will move against this place soon."
"I know. Many times have I visited Heaven atop its mountain of ice, and
my spies remain there yet. So I know that they make ready to come to this
place. They also invite humans to share in the battle. Though they do not
feel they need the assistance of men, they think it good that they join in
the destruction of the city Keenset."
"Yes, that is understandable," said Sam, studying the great vortex of
yellow flame. "What other news have you?"
"The One in Red comes."
"I expected him."
"To his death. I must defeat him."
"He will have demon-repellant upon him."
"Then I will find a way to remove it, or kill him from a distance. He
will be here by nightfall."
"How does he come?"
"In a flying machine-- not so large as the chariot of thunder we tried
to steal-- but very fast. I could not attack it in flight."
"Comes he alone?"
"Yes-- save for machines."
"Machines?"
"Many machines. His flying machine is filled with strange equipment."
"This may bode ill."
The tower spun orange.
"But others come also."
"You just said he comes alone."
"This is true."
"Then riddle me your true meaning."
"The others do not come from Heaven."
"Where, then?"
"I have traveled much since your departure for Heaven, going up and
down in the world and seeking allies among those who also hate the Gods of
the City. By the way, in your last incarnation I did try to save you from
the cats out of Kaniburrha."
"I know."
"The gods are strong-- stronger than they have ever been before."
"But tell me who is coming to aid us."
"Lord Nirriti the Black, who hates all things, hates the Gods of the
City most of all. So he is sending a thousand unliving ones to fight on the
plains beside the Vedra. He said that, after the battle, we of the Rakasha
may take our choice from the bodies which yet remain among the mindless ones
he has grown."
"I do not relish aid from the Black One, but I am in no position to
discriminate. How soon will these arrive?"
"Tonight. But Dalissa will be here sooner. Even now, I feel her
approaching."
"Dalissa? Who . . . ?"
"The last of the Mothers of the Terrible Glow. She alone escaped into
the depths when Durga and Lord Kalkin rode to the dome by the sea. All her
eggs were smashed and she can lay no more, but she bears within her body the
burning power of the sea-glow."
"And you think she would aid me?"
"She would aid no other. She is the last of her kind. She will only
assist a peer."
"Then know that the one who was known as Durga now wears the body of
Brahma, chief among our enemies."
"Yes, which makes both of you men. She might have taken the other side,
had Kali remained a woman. But she has committed herself now. You were her
choice."
"That helps to even things a bit."
"The Rakasha herd elephants and slizzards and great cats at this time,
to drive against our enemies."
"Good."
"And they summon fire elementals."
"Very good."
"Dalissa is near here now. She will wait at the bottom of the river, to
rise up when she is needed."
"Say hello to her for me," said Sam, turning to re-enter his tent.
"I will."
He dropped the flap behind him.
When the God of Death came down out of the sky onto the plains beside
the Vedra, Taraka of the Rakasha set upon him in the form of a great cat out
of Kaniburrha.
But immediately he fell back. The demon repellant lay upon Yama, and
Taraka could not close with him because of it.
The Rakasha swirled away, dropping the cat form he had assumed, to
become a whirlwind of silver motes.
"Deathgod!" the word exploded in Yama's head. "Remember Hellwell?"
Immediately, rocks and stones and sandy soil were sucked up into the
vortex and hurled across the air toward Yama, who swirled his cloak and
muffled his eyes with its hem, but did not otherwise stir.
After a time, the fury died.
Yama had not moved. The ground about him was strewn with debris, but
none lay near him.
Yama lowered his cloak and glared into the whirlwind.
"What sorcery is this?" came the words. "How is it you manage to
stand?"
Yama continued to stare at Taraka. "How is it you manage to swirl?" he
asked.
"I am greatest among the Rakasha. I bore your death-gaze before."
"And I am greatest among the gods. I stood against your entire legion
at Hellwell."
"You are a lackey to Trimurti."
"You are wrong. I have come here to fight against Heaven, in this
place, in the name of Accelerationism. Great is my hatred, and I have
brought weapons to be used against Trimurti."
"Then I suppose I must forego the pleasure of continuing our combat at
this time . . ."
"I should deem it advisable."
"And you doubtless wish to be taken to our leader?"
"I can find my own way."
"Then, until we meet again. Lord Yama. . ."
"Good-bye, Rakasha."
Taraka shot like a burning arrow into the heavens and was gone from
sight.
Some say that Yama had solved his case as he stood there in the great
birdcage, amidst the darkness and the droppings. Others say that he
duplicated Kubera's reasoning a short while later, using the tapes in the
Vasty Hall of Death. Whichever it was, when he entered the tent on the
plains by the Vedra he greeted the man inside with the name Sam. This man
laid his hand upon his blade and faced him.
"Death, you precede the battle," he said.
"There has been a change," Yama replied.
"What sort of change?"
"Position. I have come here to oppose the will of Heaven."
"In what way?"
"Steel. Fire. Blood."
"Why this change?"
"Divorces are made in Heaven. And betrayals. And shamings. The lady has
gone too far, and I know now the reason, Lord Kalkin. I neither embrace your
Accelerationism nor do I reject it. Its only mattering to me is that it
represents the one force in the world to oppose Heaven. I will join you,
with this understanding, if you will accept my blade."
"I accept your blade. Lord Yama."
"And I will raise it against any of the heavenly horde-- saving only
Brahma himself, whom I will not face."
"Agreed."
"Then permit me to serve as your charioteer."
"I would, only I have no chariot of battle."
"I brought one, a very special one. For a long time have I labored upon
it, and it is not yet complete. But it will suffice. I must assemble it this
night, however, for the battle will commence tomorrow at dawn."
"I have felt that it might. The Rakasha have warned me as to the
movement of troops near here."
"Yes, I saw them as I passed overhead. The main attack should come from
the northeast, across the plains. The gods will join in later. But there
will doubtless be parties coming from all directions, including up the
river."
"We control the river. Dalissa of the Glow waits at its bottom. When
the time comes, she can raise up mighty waves, making it to boil and
overflow its banks."
"I had thought the Glow extinguished!"
"Save for her, it is. She is the last."
"I take it the Rakasha will be fighting with us?"
"Yes, and others . . ."
"What others?"
"I have accepted assistance-- bodies without minds-- a war party of
such-- from Lord Nirriti."
Yama's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared.
"This is not good, Siddhartha. Sooner or later, he will have to be
destroyed, and it is not good to be in the debt of such a one."
"I know that, Yama, but I am desperate. They arrive tonight . . ."
"If we win, Siddhartha, toppling the Celestial City, breaking the old
religion, freeing man for industrial progress, still will there be
opposition. Nirriti, who has waited all these centuries for the passing of
the gods, will then have to be fought and beaten himself. It will either be
this or the same thing all over again -- and at least the Gods of the City
have some measure of grace in their unfair doings."
"I think he would have come to our assistance whether invited or not."
"Yes, but by inviting him, or accepting his offer, you owe him this
thing."
"Then I will have to deal with that situation when it arises."
"That's politics, I guess. But I like it not."
Sam poured them of the sweet dark wine of Keenset. "I think Kubera
would like to see you later," he said, offering a goblet.
"What is he doing?" asked Yama, accepting it and draining it off in a
single swallow.
"Drilling troops and giving classes on the internal combustion engine
to all the local savants," said Sam. "Even if we lose, some may live and go
elsewhere."
"If it is to be put to any use, they will need to know more than engine
design . . ."
"He's been talking himself hoarse for days, and the scribes are taking
it all down-- geology, mining, metallurgy, petroleum chemistry . . ."
"Had we more time, I would give my assistance. As it is, if ten per
cent is retained it may be sufficient. Not tomorrow, or even the next day,
but. . ."
Sam finished his wine, refilled the goblets. "To the morrow,
charioteer!"
"To the blood. Binder, to the blood and the killing!"
"Some of the blood may be our own, deathgod. But so long as we take
sufficient of the enemy with us. . ."
"I cannot die, Siddhartha, save by my own choosing."
"How can that be, Lord Yama?"
"Let Death keep his own small secrets. Binder. For I may choose not to
exercise my option in this battle."
"As you would, Lord."
"To your health and long life!"
"To yours."
The day of the battle dawned pink as the fresh-bitten thigh of a
maiden.
A small mist drifted in from the river. The Bridge of the Gods
glistened all of gold in the east, reached back, darkening, into retreating
night, divided the heavens like a burning equator.
The warriors of Keenset waited outside the city, upon the plain by the
Vedra. Five thousand men, with blades and bows, pikes and slings, waited for
the battle. A thousand zombies stood in the front ranks, led by the living
sergeants of the Black One, who guided all their movements by the drum,
scarves of black silk curling in the breeze like snakes of smoke upon their
helms.
Five hundred lancers were held to the rear. The silver cyclones that
were the Rakasha hung in the middle air. Across the half-lit world the
occasional growl of a jungle beast could be heard. Fire elementals glowed
upon tree limb, lance and pennon pole.
There were no clouds in the heavens. The grasses of the plain were
still moist and sparkling. The air was cool, the ground still soft enough to
gather footprints readily. Gray and green and yellow were the colors that
smote the eye beneath the heavens; and the Vedra swirled within its banks,
gathering leaves from its escort of trees. It is said that each day
recapitulates the history of the world, coming up out of darkness and cold
into confused light and beginning warmth, consciousness blinking its eyes
somewhere in midmorning, awakening thoughts a jumble of illogic and
unattached emotion, and all speeding together toward the order of noontide,
the slow, poignant decline of dusk, the mystical vision of twilight, the end
of entropy that is night once more.
The day began.
A dark line was visible at the far end of the field. A trumpet note cut
the air and that line advanced.
Sam stood in his battle chariot at the head of the formation, wearing
burnished armor and holding a long, gray lance of death. He heard the words
of Death, who wore red and was his charioteer:
"Their first wave is of slizzard cavalry."
Sam squinted at the distant line.
"It is," said his charioteer.
"Very well."
He gestured with his lance, and the Rakasha moved forward like a tidal
wave of white light. The zombies began their advance.
When the white wave and the dark line came together there was a
confusion of voices, hisses and the rattle of arms.
The dark line halted, great gouts of dust fuming above it.
Then came the sounds of the aroused jungle as the gathered beasts of
prey were driven upon the flank of the enemy.