Lord of Light (35 page)

"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.