Epiphany of the Long Sun

by Gene Wolfe

  Hammerstone leaned toward him, reporting in a harsh stage whisper, "They stopped moving around in there, Patera."

  Incus filled his lungs again. "Patera Jerboa! For you we have the highest and holiest veneration. I who speak am like you a holy augur. Indeed, I am more, for I am that augur whom Scintillating Scylla herself has chosen to lead the Chapter of Our Holy City.

  "Accompanying me are two laymen who themselves have the greatest of claims to your revered attention, for they are Auk and Hammerstone, the biochemical person and the chemical one, cojoined, selected by Lord Pas himself to execute his will at a holy sacrifice at which I presided, this very-"

  The door opened a hand's breadth, and the pale, affrighted face of Patera Shell appeared. "You-you… Are you really an augur?"

  "I am, my son. But if you are Patera Jerboa, the augur of this manteion, you are the wrong Patera Jerboa, one whom we do not seek."

  From behind Hammerstone, the foremost of Auk's followers declared, "He ain't no augur! Twig his gipon."

  Incus turned back to address him, one small foot blocking the door. "Oh, but he is, my son. Do I not know my own kind? No mere tunic can deceive me."

  "Yeah," Auk put in, "he's a augur right enough, or I never seen one. C'mere, Patera." Catching Shell's wrist, he jerked him through the doorway. "What's your name?"

  Shell only stared at him with wide eyes, his mouth opening and shutting.

  "He's Patera Shell, my acolyte," announced a white-bearded man who had taken Shell's place; his antiquated voice creaked and groaned like the wheel of an overloaded cart, although he wore a brilliant blue tunic intended for a young man. "I'm Patera Jerboa, and I'm augur here." His rheumy eyes fastened upon Incus, "You're looking for me. I don't hear much any more, but I heard that. Very well." Jerboa stepped through the doorway and traced the sign of addition between Incus and himself, making it both higher and wider than was currently customary. "Do what you came to, but let Shell go."

  Auk already had. "You're the cull, all right. You got a Window in your manteion, Patera?"

  "It would not be a manteion without one. I've-" Jerboa coughed and spat. "I've served my Window for sixty-one years. I'd…" He fell silent, sucking his gums as he looked ftom Auk to Incus and back. "Who's in charge here?"

  "I am," Auk told him, and offered his hand. "I'm what you call a theodidact, Patera. Patera Incus there ought to have told you. I been enlightened by Tartaros. Right now, I'm doing a job for his pa. So're they." He jerked his thumb at Hammerstone and Incus, then held out his hand again.

  Jerboa clasped it, his own hand dry and cold, with a grip that seemed oddly weak for its size; for a moment his eyes were bright. "I was going to say that I'd like to die in front of my Sacred Window, my son, but you haven't come to kill us."

  "Course not. Thing is, Patera, you got a piece of Pas."

  Shell, who had relaxed somewhat, stared again.

  "He wants it back now. He sent us to get it for him."

  "My son-"

  "That's the job I been talking about, Patera. That's what he asked me to do for him at the theophany."

  One of Auk's followers called, "This afternoon, Patera! We were there!"

  "There has been another?" Jerboa lifted his raddled old face to the vanishing thread of gold that was the long sun, and seemed at that moment nearly as tall as Auk.

  "At Silk's manteion!" the same follower called.

  Auk nodded. "Only this time it was Pas, Patera. You know about that, don't you? You seen him one time yourself, that's what he said."

  "He did," Shell announced unexpectedly.

  "Dimber here." Auk felt the last lingering doubt melt away, and grinned. "That's good, Patera. That's real good! People talk about how long it's been since any god come to a Window, or they did 'fore Kypris told us we could solve any place we wanted that night. Only they don't never say when last time was, or who it was that got the god to come. Pas said it was you and gave your name, but we didn't know where to find you."

  Shell looked beseechingly at Incus. "I don't understand, Patera. The Peace of Pas? Patera's brought the Peace of Pas to thousands, I'm sure, but-"

  "A chunk of him," Hammerstone explained. "Like a slice, sort of, or if I was to unscrew one of my fingers."

  "We need some animals for him," Auk announced, raising his voice. "A whole herd of 'em. Listen up, you culls! We found him. This right here's the holy augur that's got a piece of Pas in his head, a piece that Pas wants back. Our job was to find him. I mean mine and Hammerstone's, and Patera's here."

  A sibyl, herself stooped and old, appeared like a shadow at Jerboa's side. "Are they going to hurt you, Patera? I came through the manse. I broke the rule, but I don't care. If you are-if they're going to do something bad to you…"

  "It will be all right, Maytera," the old augur assured her. "Everything's going to be all right."

  Still addressing his followers, Auk told them, "We did our job, and it's your turn. You want to be part of this? Part of the biggest thing that's ever happened yet? You want to bring Pas back for people everywhere in the whorl? You get us those animals now, good ones. Get 'em anyway you can, and bring 'em back to this manteion."

  "You can't answer your own door," Maytera Marble scolded Silk. "You simply cannot!"

  He resumed his seat, vaguely unhappy that the longed-for respite from the stacks of paper before him would be postponed. The city's various accounts at the Fisc totalled-he tapped his pencil in unconscious imitation of Swallow-not much over four hundred thousand cards. In private hands it would have been a vast fortune; but the Guard had to be paid, as did the commissioners, clerks, and other functionaries, to say nothing of the contractors who sometimes cleaned the streets and were supposed to keep them in repair.

  His mouth twisting, he recalled his promise-so lightly given-to reward those who had fought bravely on either side.

  All four taluses would have to be paid for as well before Swallow would deliver even one; it was in the contract he had signed less than an hour ago. Long before those taluses were finished, the Guard would need food, ammunition, and repairs to five armed floaters. (For the tenth or twelfth time that day, Silk considered using those floaters in the tunnels and rejected it.) Meanwhile, both the taluses the Guard employed currently, the remnant of those it had when the fighting began, would have to be paid as well.

  Maytera Marble reentered, bowing. "It's Generalissimo Oosik, Patera. He desires to speak with you at once." Oosik's bulky form was visible in the reception hall beyond the ornate doorway, rocking back and forth with impatience.

  "Of course," Silk said heartily. "Show him in, please, Maytera. I apologize for asking you to get the door."

  "It was no trouble, Patera. I was glad to do it."

  Behind her, Oosik was already marching into the room; he halted before Silk's work table and saluted with a flourish and a click of polished heels. "I trust that your wounds are not too troublesome, Caldé.

  "Not at all, Generalissimo. Thank you, Maytera-that will be all."

  "Coffee, Patera? Tea?"

  Oosik shook his head.

  "No, but thank you." Silk waved her away. "Pull up a chair, Generalissimo. Sit down and relax. Have you found-?"

  Oosik shook his head. "I regret not, Caldé."

  "Sit down. What is it, then?"

  "You watched the parade, as I did." Oosik carried over an armless chair that looked too small for him.

  "The Guard detachment was amazingly trim, I thought, for having just been taken from the fighting."

  "Pah!" Oosik blew aside the detachment. "I thank you, Caldé. You are gracious. But the Trivigauntis? That was the thing to see, Siyuf's horde."

  Silk, who had been wondering how to bring up the matters that had occupied his mind earlier in the afternoon, tried to seize the opportunity. "It was what I didn't see that seemed most significant. Sit down, please. I don't like having to look up at you like this."

  Oosik sat. "You saw their infantry. I hope you were impressed, as I was.
"

  "Of course."

  "Also their cavalry. A great deal of that, Caldé. Twice what I had expected." Oosik wound one end of his white-tipped mustache around his finger and tugged.

  "The cavalry was beautiful, certainly, but I was struck by their guns; I'd never seen big guns like that. Do we-do you have any, Generalissimo?"

  "A few, yes. Never as many as I would like. What did you think of their floaters, Caldé?"

  "There weren't any."

  "What of the taluses? I should like your opinion, Caldé."

  Silk shook his head. "You won't get it, Generalissimo. There weren't any of those either. That is a matter-"

  "Precisely so!" Oosik released his mustache and waved his forefinger to emphasize his point. "I do not seek to embarrass you, Caldé. Every man knows much upon some subjects, little or nothing on others. It cannot be otherwise. No one can predict what will happen in war, yet a commander must try. What sort of fighting does Siyuf anticipate here? A horde shapes itself as a man dresses, at one time to hunt, at another to attend the theater. I have seen her horde now, and I will tell you."

  Silk, who had been about to speak at length himself, said, "Please do, Generalissimo."

  "She will fight above ground, not in tunnels. Not in the city, either, or little. Infantry, Caldé, for fighting in a city, and to defend one. The guns that so impressed you are for defense also. Mostly she will attack. Thus she brings cavalry, which can go swiftly to a place chosen by herself in her airship and strike without warning. She spoke of mules to free her guns from mud. I overheard your talk, for which I hope you will forgive me."

  "Of course you did; you were standing beside General Saba."

  "Exactly so. Why not taluses, Caldé? In your Guard, we use our taluses to free mired guns and even wagons, and a talus is stronger than thirty mules. Why will she not use taluses, and tell you so?"

  "Because she hasn't got any. I noticed it at the time, and before the parade was over I became very conscious of it. It may be that no one in Trivigaunte knows how to make them, though I'd think unemployed taluses would go there seeking work if that were the case."

  "They have kept their taluses at home to defend their city, Caldé. Their floaters, too. Those are best for forcing a city street, however. I would think them best for tunnels, also."

  "I agree."

  "They would have been destroyed in the tunnels, fighting the soldiers and taluses of the Ayuntamiento. You see."

  Silk, who feared that he saw only too well, said, "Not as clearly as I'd like. Go on, Generalissimo."

  "My wife visits a woman who professes to reveal the future to her." Oosik tugged his mustache again. "She says she does not believe this, but she does. I have upbraided her without effect. A man without a wife is spared a full half of life's unpleasantness."

  "We augurs," Silk said carefully, "profess to reveal the future, too. That is to say, we profess to read the will of the gods in the entrails of their sacrifices. I admit that the intestines of a sheep seem like an unlikely tablet even for a god, but history records many striking instances of accurate predictions."

  A slight smile elevated Oosik's mustache. "My change of topic did not discomfit you, Caldé."

  "Not at all."

  "Good. I mentioned this woman because she and many like her are false, and I do not wish you to think me a false prophet like them. If I predict, with success, the next event of the war, will that increase my credit with you?"

  "It can go no higher, Generalissimo."

  "Then this will demonstrate that I deserve the confidence you repose in me. Siyuf will send a force of substance into the tunnels. It will bravely engage the enemy, and there will be terrible fighting. You, I think, Caldé, will be taken to see it, if you will go. You will find a tunnel choked with bodies."

  Silk nodded thoughtfully.

  "Once more in the Juzgado, you will insist that the force be withdrawn, those gallant young girls. Soon it will be, and after that, Siyuf will fight in the tunnels no more."

  "You are a false prophet, Generalissimo," Silk told him. "Having heard your prophesy, I won't permit that to happen."

  "In which case we must fight there, and because they are narrow, a hundred or two at a time. One by one we will lose our floaters and taluses, and with them scores of troopers. It will be slow work, and while it is done our numbers will grow less each day. These thousands and thousands of troopers of General Mint's, who constitute so formidable a force. Can you afford to pay them?"

  Silk shook his head.

  "Then what will there be to hold them, if there is little fighting for them? A trooper fights for honor, Caldé, whether he is General Skate's trooper or hers. Or from loyalty. Or for loot sometimes. But he waits for pay. He will not wait without it, because when there is no fighting there is no honor to win, no flag to die for, no loot to gain."

  "The Trivigauntis are stronger than we are already," Silk said pensively. "I think so at least, after what I saw today."

  Oosik shook his head. "Not yet, Caldé, though Mint's ranks have begun to thin, perhaps. By the end of the winter-" Oosik was interrupted by climes, and Horn's hurrying footsteps.

  The three augurs had agreed that Jerboa would offer the first victim and the largest. The rest-eight had been led through the chill dusk into the old manteion on Brick Street, and more were expected momentarily-would be divided between Incus and Shell, with Incus offering the second, fourth, sixth, and eighth, and each choosing freely from those available, as long as he did not choose the largest.

  Auk, who had been a silent witness to their discussion, watched with interest as Jerboa tottered to the ambion; this feeble frame, this snowy-haired, half-naked skull, contained a tiny fragment of Great Pas, Lord of the Whorl and Father of the Seven. Did it know it was about to be reclaimed?

  Shag yes, Auk told himself, it was bound to. He, Auk, had explained the whole thing to old Jerboa, hadn't he? How gods could tear chunks off themselves without getting smaller, and how they could slip those into a cull. The chunk could be jefe then if it wanted to, but it didn't have to. It could, as he had been at pains to make clear, just go along. It was like a buck on a donkey. Sure, he could order it around, make it trot or stop, turn one way or the other-only he didn't have to. Maybe he'd just let go of the reins, hook a leg over the pommel, and snoodge, letting his donkey graze or look for water, or whatever it wanted to. That was what Pas had done for years and years, but how long would he keep it up?

  "My very dear new friends," Jerboa began, "I know you have not, any of you-" He coughed and clearly wished to spit, but swallowed. "That you haven't come out here and brought the gods more fine offerings than we've seen since… I don't know."

  Benevolently, he looked toward the sibyls gathered about the fire that the youngest was kindling on the altar. "Maytera Wood, you've a better memory. They just brought another calf. That makes three. No, four. Four nice calves and four lambs, and a colt. We'll have a bull before we're done, I declare… What was I going to ask you about, Maytera?"

  "When we'd had better animals," the oldest sibyl told him. "It was when you came from the schola, Patera. Your parents and your aunt bought a bullock and a peacock, and-oh, dear. It was Maytera Salvia who told me. What else did she say?"

  "A monkey," Jerboa informed her. "I recollect the monkey, Maytera." He had not liked offering the monkey, and something of that showed in his face after sixty-one years. "It doesn't matter. There were nine, one for each of the Nine."

  As if they were a backward class, he fixed his eyes on Auk and Hammerstone, and those of Auk's followers who had returned. "There are nine great gods, as all you young people should know. That's Pas and Echidna, and their children. What my father and my aunt did was to buy a gift for each, for me to give them the first time I sacrificed. On that altar right over there it was. Most were small. Some kind of a singing bird for Molpe, and a mole for Tartaros, and the monkey. I recollect those."

  Incus, waiting with Shell, stirred impatiently.
/>   If Jerboa noticed, he did not betray it. "What they were doing was a very important thing. They were starting a young man off-" He coughed again. "Excuse it. The gods' will, I'm sure. I just want to say it's a more important thing that we're doing tonight. A god, not just any god but Lord Pas himself, they say, has told these new gentlemen and Patera-Patera-?"

  "Incus," Hammerstone prompted from a front seat.

  "What's an incus anyway? I don't think I've offered an incus in all my years. Well, never mind. One of those little things that live in trees and eat the birds' eggs, I imagine." Another cough. "Told them if they'd find me… Is that right?"

  Incus, who had been on the point of objecting violently a moment before, exerted self-control. "You are indeed the augur whom Pas himself designated, Patera, if you are that Jerboa whom he intended."

  Shell added encouragingly, "I'm sure you are, Patera."

  "If they'd find me and sacrifice, he'd come again, he said. Have I got that right?"

  Hammerstone, Incus, and even Shell nodded confirmation, as did most of those assembled; there was a stir at the back of the manteion as an immensely tall worshipper led in a tame baboon.

  "What I wanted to say while our good sibyls get the fire going is that it's not a little thing. Not a little thing at all. Theophanies over on Sun Street lately, and this you've come from makes three. But I'm no stranger to them, not what you could call a stranger at all."

  He turned, shuffling around behind his ambion to address Incus. "You talked to Pas, did you?"

  "I did." Incus swelled with pride.

  Jerboa faced about again. "He said he was going to come. Well, we'll see. It'll be a great thing, a tremendous thing. If it happens."

  Maytera Wood presented him with the knife of sacrifice, the signal that the sacred fire was burning satisfactorily. "I'll have that black calf with the white face," he decided.

  ***

  "Bird back!"

  Bison halted before Silk's table and saluted at the very moment that Oreb, who had been riding on Horn's shoulder, landed upon Silk's head; no slightest twitching of Bison's thick black beard betrayed amusement, although it seemed to Silk that there had been the briefest possible flicker of hilarity in Bison's dark and darting eyes. "I'm early, Caldé," Bison confessed. "I came beforehand because I want to talk to you. If you object, I understand. Go ahead and tell me. But I have to talk to you, and I hope you'll let me when you're through."