Lord of Light

by Roger Zelazny

  "Yes, quickly!"

  They turned their slizzards back toward the forest.

  Krishna put aside his pipes when the messenger was brought to him.

  "Yes?" he asked.

  "Mahartha has fallen . . ."

  Krishna stood.

  "And Nirriti prepares to march upon Lananda."

  "What have the gods done in defense?"

  "Nothing. Nothing at all."

  "Come with me. The Lokapalas are about to confer."

  Krishna left his pipes upon the table.

  That night, Sam stood upon the highest balcony of Ratri's palace. The rains fell about him, coming like cold nails through the wind. Upon his left hand, an iron ring glowed with an emerald radiance.

  The lightning fell and fell and fell, and remained.

  He raised his hand and the thunders roared and roared, like the death cries of all the dragons who might ever have lived, sometime, somewhere. . . .

  The night fell back as the fire elementals stood before the Palace of Kama.

  Sam raised both hands together, and they climbed into the air as one and hovered high in the night.

  He gestured and they moved above Khaipur, passing from one end of the city to the other.

  Then they circled.

  Then they split apart and danced within the storm.

  He lowered his hands.

  They returned and stood once more before him.

  He did not move. He waited.

  After a hundred heartbeats, it came and spoke to him out of the night:

  "Who are you, to command the slaves of the Rakasha?"

  "Bring me Taraka," said Sam.

  "I take orders from no mortal."

  "Then look upon the flames of my true being, ere I bind you to yon metal flagpole for so long as it shall stand."

  "Binder! You live!"

  "Bring me Taraka," he repeated.

  "Yes, Siddhartha. Thy will be done."

  Sam clapped his hands and the elementals leapt skyward and the night was dark about him once more.

  The Lord of Hellwell took upon him a manlike form and entered the room where Sam sat alone.

  "The last ever I saw of you was upon the day of the Great Battle," he stated. "Later, I heard that they had found a way of destroying you."

  "As you can see, they did not."

  "How came you into the world again?"

  "Lord Yama fetched me back—the One in Red."

  "His power is indeed great."

  "It proved sufficient. How go things with the Rakasha these days?"

  "Well. We continue your fight."

  "Really? In what ways?"

  "We aid your old ally—the Black One, Lord Nirriti—in his campaign against the gods."

  "I suspected this. It is the reason I have contacted you."

  "You wish to ride with him?"

  "I have thought it over carefully, and despite my comrades' objections I do wish to ride with him—provided he will make an agreement with us. I want you to carry my message to him."

  "What is the message, Siddhartha?"

  "The message is that the Lokapalas—these being Yama, Krishna, Kubera and myself—will ride to battle with him against the gods, bringing all our supporters, powers, and machineries to bear upon them, if he will agree not to war against the followers of either Buddhism or Hinduism as they exist in the world, for purposes of converting them to his persuasion—and further, that he will not seek to suppress Accelerationism, as the gods have done, should we prove victorious. Look upon his flames as he speaks his answer, and tell me whether he speaks it true."

  "Do you think he will agree to this, Sam?"

  "I do. He knows that, if the gods were no longer present to enforce Hinduism as they do, then he would gain converts. He can see this from what I managed to do with Buddhism, despite their opposition. He feels that his way is the only right way and that it is destined to prevail in the face of competition. I think he would agree to fair competition for this reason. Take him this message and bring me his answer. All right?"

  Taraka wavered. His face and left arm became smoke.

  "Sam . . ."

  "What?"

  "Which one is the right way?"

  "Huh? You're asking me that? How should I know?"

  "Mortals call you Buddha."

  "That is only because they are afflicted with language and ignorance."

  "No. I have looked upon your flames and name you Lord of Light. You bind them as you bound us, you loose them as you loosed us. Yours was the power to lay a belief upon them. You are what you claimed to be."

  "I lied. I never believed in it myself, and I still don't. I could just as easily have chosen another way—say, Nirriti's religion—only crucifixion hurts. I might have chosen one called Islam, only I know too well how it mixes with Hinduism. My choice was based upon calculation, not inspiration, and I am nothing."

  "You are the Lord of Light."

  "Go deliver my message now. We can discuss religion another day."

  "The Lokapalas, you say, are Yama, Krishna, Kubera and yourself?"

  "Yes."

  "Then he does live. Tell me, Sam, before I go . . . could you defeat Lord Yama in battle?"

  "I do not know. I don't think so, though. I don't think anybody could."

  "But could he defeat you?"

  "Probably, in a fair fight. Whenever we met as enemies in the past, I was sometimes lucky and sometimes I managed to trick him. I've fenced with him recently and he is without peer. He is too versatile in the ways of destruction."

  "I see," said Taraka, his right arm and half his chest drifting away. "Then good night upon you, Siddhartha. I take your message with me."

  "Thank you, and good night upon yourself."

  Taraka became all smoke and fled forth into the storm.

  High above the world, spinning: Taraka. The storm raged about him, but he took scant notice of its fury.

  The thunders fell and the rain came down and the Bridge of the Gods was invisible. But none of these things bothered him. For he was Taraka of the Rakasha, Lord of Hellwell. . .

  And he had been the mightiest creature in the world, save for the Binder.

  Now the Binder had told him that there was One Greater. . . and they were to fight together, as before.

  How insolently he had stood in his Red and his Power! That day. Over half a century ago. By the Vedra.

  To destroy Yama-Dharma, to defeat Death, would prove Taraka supreme. . . .

  To prove Taraka supreme was more important than defeating the gods, who must one day pass, anyhow, for they were not of the Rakasha.

  Therefore, the Binder's message to Nirriti—to which he had said Nirriti would agree—would be spoken only to the storm, and Taraka would look upon its flames and know that it spoke true.

  For the storm never lies . . . and it always says No!

  The dark sergeant brought him into camp. He had been resplendent in his armor, with its bright trappings, and he had not been captured; he had walked up to him and stated that he had a message for Nirriti. For this reason, the sergeant decided against slaying him immediately. He took his weapons, conducted him into the camp — there in the wood near Lananda—and left him under guard while he consulted his leader.

  Nirriti and Olvegg sat within a black tent. A map of Lananda was spread before them.

  When they permitted him to bring the prisoner into the tent, Nirriti regarded him and dismissed the sergeant.

  "Who are you?" he asked.

  "Ganesha of the City. The same who aided you in your flight from Heaven."

  Nirriti appeared to consider this.

  "Well do I remember my one friend from the old days," he said. "Why have you come to me?"

  "Because the time is propitious to do so. You have finally undertaken the great crusade."

  "Yes."

  "I would hold privy counsel with you concerning it."

  "Speak then."

  "What of this fellow?"

  "T
o speak before Jan Olvegg is to speak before me. Say what is on your mind."

  "Olvegg?"

  "Yes."

  "Just so. I have come to tell you that the Gods of the City are weak. Too weak, I feel, to defeat you."

  "I had felt this to be true."

  "But they are not so weak as to be unable to hurt you immensely when they do move. Things might hang in the balance if they muster all their forces at the proper moment."

  "I came to battle with this in mind, also."

  "Better your victory be less costly. You know I am a Christian sympathizer."

  "What is it you have in mind?"

  "I volunteered to lead some guerrilla fighting solely to tell you that Lananda is yours. They will not defend it. If you continue to move as you have—not consolidating your gains—and you move upon Khaipur, Brahma will not defend it either. But when you come to Kilbar, your forces weakened from the battles for the first three cities and from these, our raids along the way, then will Brahma strike with the full might of Heaven, that you may go down to defeat before the walls of Kilbar. All the powers of the Celestial City have been readied. They wait for you to dare the gates of the fourth city of the river."

  "I see. That is good to know. Then they do fear that which I bear."

  "Of course. Will you bear it as far as Kilbar?"

  "Yes. And I will win in Kilbar, also. I shall send for my mightiest weapons before we attack that city. The powers which I have held back to use upon the Celestial City itself will be unleashed upon my enemies when they come to the defense of doomed Kilbar."

  "They, too, will bring mighty weapons."

  "Then, when we meet, the outcome will lie neither in their hands nor in my hands, really."

  "There is a way to tip the balance even further, Renfrew."

  "Oh? What else have you in mind?"

  "Many of the demigods are dissatisfied with the situation in the City. They had wanted a prolonged campaign against Accelerationism and against the followers of Tathagatha. They were disappointed when this did not follow Keenset. Also, Lord Indra has been recalled from the eastern continent, where he was carrying the war against the witches. Indra could be made to appreciate the sentiments of the demigods—and his followers will come hot from another battlefield."

  Ganesha adjusted his cloak.

  "Speak on," said Nirriti.

  "When they come to Kilbar," said Ganesha, "it may be that they will not fight in its defense."

  "I see. What will you gain from all this, Ganesha?"

  "Satisfaction."

  "Nothing more?"

  "I would that you recall one day that I made this visit."

  "So be it. I shall not forget, and you shall have reward of me afterward. . . . Guard!"

  The tent flap was opened, and the one who had brought Ganesha re-entered the tent.

  "Escort this man wherever he wants to be taken, and release him unharmed," Nirriti ordered.

  "You would trust this one?" asked Olvegg, after he bad gone.

  "Yes," said Nirriti, "but I would give him his silver afterward."

  The Lokapalas sat to counsel within Sam's chamber at the Palace of Kama in Khaipur. Also present were Tak and Ratri.

  "Taraka tells me that Nirriti will not have us on our terms," said Sam.

  "Good," said Yama. "I half feared he would agree."

  "And in the morning they attack Lananda. Taraka feels they will take the city. It will be a little more difficult than Mahartha was, but he is certain they will win. I am too."

  "And I."

  "And I."

  "Then he will move on to this city, Khaipur. Then Kilbar, then Hamsa, then Gayatri. Somewhere along this route, he knows the gods will move against him."

  "Of course."

  "So we are in the middle and we have several choices before us. We could not make a deal with Nirriti. Do you think we could make one with Heaven?"

  "No!" said Yama, slamming his fist upon the table. "Which side are you on, Sam?"

  "Acceleration," he replied. "If it can be procured through negotiation, rather than unnecessary bloodshed, so much the better."

  "I'd rather deal with Nirriti than Heaven!"

  "So let us vote upon it as we did upon making the contact with Nirriti."

  "And you require only one assent to win."

  "Those were my terms upon entering the Lokapalas. You asked me to lead you, so I require the power to break a tie. Let me explain my reasoning, though, before we talk of a vote."

  "Very well—talk!"

  "Heaven has, in recent years, developed a more liberal attitude toward Acceleration, as I understand it. There has been no official change of position, but no steps have been taken against Acceleration either—presumably because of the beating they took at Keenset. Am I not correct?"

  "Essentially," said Kubera.

  "It seems that they have decided such actions would be too costly every time Science rears its ugly head. There were people, humans, fighting against them in that battle. Against Heaven. And people, unlike our selves, have families, have ties which weaken them—and they are bound to keep a clean karmic record if they desire rebirth. Still, they fought. Accordingly, Heaven has been moved to greater lenience in recent years. Since this is the situation as it actually exists, they have nothing to lose by acknowledging it. In fact, they could make it show to their favor, as a benign gesture of divine graciousness. I think that they would be willing to make the concessions Nirriti would not—"

  "I want to see Heaven fall," said Yama.

  "Of course. So do I. But think carefully. Just with what you've given to humans over the past half century—can Heaven hold this world in fief much longer? Heaven fell that day at Keenset. Another generation, perhaps two, and its power over mortals will have passed. In this battle with Nirriti they will be hurt further, even in victory. Give them a few more years of decadent glory. They become more and more impotent with every season. They have reached their peak. Their decline has set in."

  Yama lit a cigarette.

  "Is it that you want someone to kill Brahma for you?" asked Sam.

  Yama sat silently, drew upon the cigarette, exhaled. Then, "Perhaps," he said. "Perhaps that is it. I do not know. I don't like to think about it. It is probably true, though."

  "Would you like my guarantee that Brahma will die?"

  "No! If you try it, I'll kill you!"

  "You feel that you do not really know whether you want Brahma dead or alive. Perhaps it is that you love and hate simultaneously. You were old before you were young, Yama, and she was the only thing you ever cared for. Am I right?"

  "Yes."

  "Then I have no answer for you, for your own troubles, but you must separate yourself this much from the problem at hand."

  "All right, Siddhartha. I vote to stop Nirriti here at Khaipur, if Heaven will back us."

  "Does anybody have any objections to this?"

  There was silence.

  "Then let us journey to the Temple and commandeer its communications unit."

  Yama put out his cigarette.

  "But I will not speak with Brahma," he said.

  "I'll do the talking," said Sam.

  Ili, the fifth note of the harp, buzzed within the Garden of the Purple Lotus.

  When Brahma activated the screen within his Pavilion, he saw a man who wore the blue-green turban of Urath.

  "Where is the priest?" asked Brahma.

  "Tied up outside. I can have him dragged in, if you'd like to hear a prayer or two. . ."

  "Who are you that wears the turban of the First and goes armed in the Temple?"

  "I have a strange feeling of having been through all this once before," said the man.

  "Answer my questions!"

  "Do you want Nirriti stopped. Lady? Or do you want to give him all these cities along the river?"

  "You try the patience of Heaven, mortal? You shall not leave the Temple alive."

  "Your threats of death mean nothing to the chief of the Lokap
alas, Kali."

  "The Lokapalas are no more, and they had no chief."

  "You look upon him, Durga."

  "Yama? Is that you?"

  "No, but he is here with me—as are Krishna, and Kubera."

  "Agni is dead. Every new Agni has died since. . ."

  "Keenset. I know, Candi. I was not a member of the original team. Rild didn't kill me. The phantom cat who shall remain nameless did a good job, but it wasn't good enough. And now I've crossed back over the Bridge of the Gods. The Lokapalas have chosen me as their leader. We will defend Khaipur and break Nirriti, if Heaven will help us."

  "Sam . . . it couldn't be you!"

  "Then call me Kalkin, or Siddhartha, or Tathagatha, or Mahasamatman, or Binder, or Buddha, or Maitreya. It's Sam, though. I have come to worship thee and make a bargain."

  "Name it."

  "Men have been able to live with Heaven, but Nirriti is another matter. Yama and Kubera have brought weapons into the city. We can fortify it and whip up a good defense. If Heaven will add its power to our own, Nirriti will meet his downfall at Khaipur. We will do this, if Heaven will sanction Acceleration and religious freedom, and end the reign of the Lords of Karma."

  "That's quite a bit, Sam . . ."

  "The first two merely amount to agreeing that something does exist and has a right to go on. The third will come to pass whether you like it or not, so I'm giving you a chance to be graceful about it."

  "I'll have to think . . ."

  "Take a minute. I'll wait. If the answer is no, though, we'll pull out and let Renfrew have this city, defile this Temple. After he's taken a few more, you'll have to meet him. We won't be around then, though. We'll wait till it's all over. If you're still in business then, you won't be in any position to decide about those terms I just gave you. If you're not, I think we'll be able to take the Black One on and best him and what will be left of his zombies. Either way, we get what we want. This way is easier on you, though."

  "All right! I'll muster the forces immediately. We will ride together in this last battle, Kalkin. Nirriti dies at Khaipur! Keep someone there in the comm-room, so we can stay in contact."

  "I'll make this my headquarters."

  "Now untie the priest and bring him here. He is about to receive some divine orders, and, shortly, a divine visitation."