Beyond The Gate of Worlds

by Robert Silverberg (Ed. )

“What do you expect of Cats?” scoffed Tilapa. “And Llama women can travel and marry as well, but what does that have to do with Spiders?”

  “We will have to see,” said Ilatha, keeping his own anxiety to himself.

  Iyestu liked riding the funicular cars up the mountains and across the splendid valleys and gorges of the Spine of the World as much as he disliked descending in them. There were nine transfers between the coast and the capital, and he had made every one without difficulty, which filled him with a sense of accomplishment, for this was not an ordinary journey: he carried a leather case with him, and in it were copies of the precious charts of the Whale clan. It was an enormous responsibility, having these charts, for in the past they had never been permitted to leave the Whale clan, except for the use of the Four High Priests, and that had happened only three times in written memory. Never had another clan been privy to the Whale clan’s knowledge. He was the first Spider to see the charts. Now he was under orders to show the charts to his brothers and his father; if anyone else saw them, he would be dishonored and would lose his place in the afterlife.

  The Fourth High Priest met him as he left the funicular car. The station was very grand, but Akando was more than equal to his setting in his gold armor and white clothing. “The High Gods give you favor,” he said to Iyestu.

  “And speak to you for wisdom,” said Iyestu, in the polite manner. “Where is my father?” he asked, for he had expected to see Ilatha instead of the High Priest.

  “He and your brothers are waiting at the Secret School,” said Akando, indicating one of the largest and most magnificent buildings in the city. “We have a chamber there where you may be assured of privacy. ’ ’ He indicated the case in Iyestu’s hands. “When you delve into those charts, you do not want idle eyes seeing them. ’ ’

  “No,” said Iyestu, holding the case more tightly. “Is there an escort?”

  “That would draw attention to your mission,” said Akando. “I am all the escort you will need. No one will approach us except the officers of the True Inca, and there are very few Ravens on the street, you see,” he said, indicating all the people from the country who had come for market day in the west quarter of Machu Picchu.

  “Ravens are not supposed to be in the market unless there’s a war,’ said Iyestu.

  “But Songbirds and Hawks and Pigs and Llamas and Cats and Rats are here in abundance,” Akando said. “There’s even a witch from the Crane clan, in the shop across the way. She trades with the Chinese, or so it’s said. She goes north twice a year, in any case, and if she meets Chinese or others, who can say?”

  “It’s forbidden to trade with the Chinese!” said Iyestu indignantly.

  “And with the people north of our land. So if she does, wouldn’t she be foolish to admit it?” Akando indicated the various street-fronting shops that were open for market day. “The Llama hamess-makers are very good here. The Moon clan has shops in the next street, if you have need for metal utensils.”

  “I know the market; I grew up here,” said Iyestu quickly. “I do want to talk with someone from the Moon clan later, though. I have a notion for making the sails of the kites more controllable; I will need to talk about the frame and cables and the new design with someone from the Moon clan, won’t I?”

  “Metals are the province of the Moon clan,” Akando agreed. “Very well. It will be arranged.”

  They turned the comer and approached the enormous facade of the Secret School. The huge doors were guarded by hooded members of the noble Crane clan. They passed through into the entry hall, which was huge and echoed with an endless murmur of voices, its polished stone reflecting the light of two hundred oil lamps that burned every hour of the day and night. Priests and Crane clan members went busily through the hall, everyone in white cotton trousers and long white chemises. Iyestu’s dark brown garment stood out glaringly.

  Akando put his hand on Iyestu’s shoulder. “Come; this way. We’ll meet your brothers in the private chamber. ’ *

  The room was on the second floor, guarded by Cranes, and inside Ilatha was waiting with Apenimon and Tlilapa. He made a gesture of honor to Akando and turned to his sons. “We are asked to examine the charts of the Whale clan, but we are not to discuss what we see with anyone but ourselves and Whales. It is a great honor to be permitted to break the bonds of clan in this way, but it is also a responsibility, for the secrets of the

  Whale clan are theirs, not ours, and we have them at their sufferance and the order of the True Inca.”

  “Very good,” said Akando with a slight smile.

  At a sign from Ilatha, Iyestu opened the case he earned. He reached in and picked up four large sheets, folded several times, and carefully spread them out on the table. He unfolded the sheet marked in green.

  “This shows the coast,” he said. His father and brothers bent over the chart. “The Teeth of the Gods is here, down at this point, where the land narrows. There are savages there who run naked in the snow, or so it is said. You can see how the Flatlands spread out to the east, with rivers and jungles and plains. All that is the province of the False Inca. The men from Urop live here”—he indicated the mouth of a south-flowing river—“and here”—the second river was far to the north, east-flowing and huge at the mouth—“or so we have been told, and more will come. They have ships in these four ports, as well”—he pointed all four out— ‘and they travel on the trade roads within the country. The squads from the False Inca of the Green Banner are at the ports as well. If we set out from Algoma, we’ll have to keep well to the north of the Teeth of the Gods or we risk being spotted by their kites or by their ships coming through the Teeth.” He indicated the dangerous zones. “The Whales have marked the rivers in the ocean, and we’ll have to learn the look of them if we are to be sure where we are once we leave the land. The Crane clan will give us maps of the stars for the night, but during the day we’ll have to rely on the rivers of the ocean and small chains of islands if we are to reach the Maoris.”

  “Why not wait for the Maoris to come to us?” Ti-lapa suggested, mischief in his eyes.

  ‘Because they have no reason to come,” said Akando seriously. “They are a mighty people, commanding hundreds of islands and thousands of clans and millions of people. They think of us as backward and isolated, warring with the False Inca and clinging to ways that they say are out of step with the world. They are able to trade with the Czar of Russian and the merchants of China and Japan. What reason do they have to come all the way across the Western Ocean to get wool of the alpaca and silver and gold from our mines when they have riches enough? They have no enemies at their borders: we do. ’ ’

  “Only ignorant foreigners would think us backward,” said Ilatha indignantly, stung by the observation. “They know nothing of us if they think we are backward. ’ ’

  Akando opened his hands. “Since there is no reason for them to know us better, they will continue in there misconception until we do something to alter their assumptions.” He looked at the chart. “Consider: the False Inca controls three times the land the True Inca does. He trades with the people to the north, and the people from across the Eastern Ocean. His coffers are filling with gold from far away. We must do something to balance this.” He coughed delicately. “We have the advantage of the mountains, for hardly anyone from the Flatlands is able to scale our peaks. And we have treasures in our mines, but that is not enough; in this time, we need allies. Since the High Gods are silent in this regard, we must fend for ourselves.”

  “Why not go to war with the people to the north and disrupt the trade the False Inca has with them? ’ ’ Apenimon suggested. “Then we wouldn’t have to look to the Maoris to befriend us.”

  “War is expensive,” said Ilatha, before the Fourth High Priest could answer. “The lands to the north are rich, very rich. They have metals of their own. They can outfit an army three times the size of ours without inconvenience. We can’t afford to fight them.”

  “Even a Pig could not h
ave said it better,” said Akando. “Show them the next chart, Iyestu.”

  The second chart was coded with an orange tag. Aside from one small section of land that included the port of Algoma, it showed nothing but the expanse of the Western Ocean with the rivers of the ocean marked like bands of muscle.

  “They say we will be out of the sight of land once we pass this point,” said Iyestu, his finger on an orange star. “In kites, we will be able to see land for a greater distance, especially with the spectacles. The land won’t disappear as quickly, but by the time we are here”— the spot was a short distance beyond the orange star— “we won’t see the mountains of our home, even in the air. Look how empty the ocean is. We’ll be going three points east to one point south. Here we’ll pass five islands on the south, and a little further on, a cluster of islands on the north. If the sky is clear, we’ll see them well in advance. The Whales warned me that there are storms in that part of the ocean very often.”

  “If we lose our course in this stretch, it will be difficult to find it again,” Apenimon said. “The beginning is the most dangerous.”

  “And the return,” said Tulapa.

  “Oh, no,” Iyestu said. “Returning we have all of the coast to find, and mountains to guide us. Returning is easier than going.” He pointed out a long chain of islands making almost a straight line going north to south. “The Maoris are at the south end of this line.

  The other charts show the water around the islands we will pass.”

  “What is this?” Apenimon asked, pointing to a tremendous island west of the islands of the Maoris.

  Part of the Maori holding, the largest island they have. I’m told that most of it is desert, except here in the east and the south. ’ ’ He looked at the map carefully. “Everything from these islands west to the southlands of China are Maori holdings, no matter what the names may say.”

  The twins stared at the map with new attention. Finally Tlilapa spoke. “Their lands are larger than the lands of the True Inca.”

  “Yes,” said Akando.

  “Unless we flattened the mountains,” said Iyestu with sudden inspiration. “Then the lands of the True Inca would be much bigger.”

  Llotl came back late one night, five weeks after he had departed. Imhuro led him to the True Inca’s private chambers, warning him to be silent as they went, for it was forbidden for any but priests, Ravens and Tortoises to walk the palace halls at this late hour.

  “To guard against assassins?” Llotl suggested. “All a determined man would have to do is wear the dress of a Raven or Tortoise.” He laughed silently, nastily.

  “Keep quiet,” Imhuro whispered. He disliked the Aztec more than he could express. Neither man spoke again until Imhuro unlocked the concealed entrance to Sathale’s rooms. “Remember to show him respect,” he said, following the spy through the door.

  Sathale was seated behind his writing table, all trappings of his rank removed except for the massive gold bracelets on his wrists. The True Inca squinted as he read the pages m front of him, pausing now and again to rub his wide-set eyes. As Llotl nodded toward him Sathale motioned Imhuro to one of the hassocks.

  “You must have something to report,” Sathale said sharply. “What is it?”

  The northerner scowled. “I don’t like being pressed, True Inca.” He dragged one of the hassocks a bit nearer the writing table and sank down on it. “I’ve had a long journey, and my bones are tired.”

  “Well?” Sathale said, after a time.

  “There are a few things, yes,” Llotl said. “But after so arduous a trek, my memory isn’t as sharp as I’d like.” He gazed up at the ceiling. “I’m not certain I can remember much.”

  “Imhuro, give him a pouch of gold,” Sathale ordered wearily.

  The Tortoise sat up abruptly, protesting, “True Inca, you can’t do this.”

  “I fear I must,” said Sathale. “He’s as greedy as a neglected wife, though, isn’t he?” He tossed a large key to Imhuro. “Go on. Bring him what he wants.” Sathale’s words stung Llotl. “My memory has got much worse,” he said belligerently. “I am no neglected wife, Sathale”—for a foreigner to use his name was a profound and deliberate insult—“I am one who works for your interest, if your interest works with mine.” “A pouch of gold will soothe you,” said Sathale, no softening in his manner. “It had best improve your memory, Llotl.

  Llotl shrugged, and took the pouch when Imhuro handed it to him. “You have no respect for my work, do you?” he asked, securing the pouch inside his clothing.

  “I know it is necessary,” said Sathale. “Now, what transpired? * ’

  ‘‘How formal, and this meeting so secret,” Llotl marveled. Then he took a different tone. “I had some trouble.”

  “Trouble?” Sathale repeated sharply.

  “Not too bad,” Llotl amended, hearing the alarm in Sathale’s question. “It was not easy to be heard—not without telling the whole world what you wanted. Since the task required . . . prudence, I had to approach my master with circumspection. I needed to select my associates with care.”

  “How many?”

  “Three, and one is dead for it. I had to be certain there would be no talk, and”—he shrugged—“it took longer that I expected. ’ ’

  Sathale grew more impatient. “What news do you have for me? ’ ‘

  “My master is . . . interested. He knows about the soldiers being sent to your second cousin, and he has had some experience of Helaoku, which makes him apprehensive: Helaoku’s made treaty with the Tiirks, and they’re giving him troops.” Llotl pursed his lips. “You are not the only one who is endangered by that treaty. Our arrangement with the Hirks could fail now that your second cousin is offering the promise of riches and . . . converts. ’

  “What do you mean?” Imhuro asked.

  “Helaoku has agreed to worship their Allah in exchange for troops to conquer you, and the north as well, perhaps.” The mockery was gone from the Aztec’s eyes. “It hasn’t been announced yet, and won’t be until more troops arrive in Helaoku’s ports, in case the peo-pie don’t like it. But it’s whispered that the people will be required to worship as Helaoku does.”

  Sathale sat very still as the enormity of this revelation sank in. “Helaoku will turn from the High Gods to this Allah?” he asked quietly. “How?”

  “He wants the troops and the trade and the place in the world more than he trusts the High Gods.” Llotl looked away from Sathale. “My master is afraid what it would mean, for the Tirks will support those who bow to Allah before they support their other allies. ’ ’ “Ah,” said Sathale. “Yes.” He rose, walking toward the northerner. “And your ruler knows this?” “He fears it.”

  “And he’ll be willing to act with me if I call my ai*my to fight the Tirks and our Flatlands cousins?” “Possibly. He wants to know more. If you wish to arrange matters,'he asks that you send him word. I’ll carry it, but there must be something more than what I remember. He won’t do anything further until he has word from you directly. ’ ’ Llotl rubbed nervously at the wide belt he wore. “I am commanded to bring your message to him. Your message, True Inca, in your own hand.”

  “What sort of condition is that? How would he know my hand from any other?”

  “He’ll know because I’ll tell him I watched as you wrote. He insists on it.” Llotl held up his hand. “There is no bribe that would change my mind. If I lie to my master, he will order me killed. No gold is worth that.” “No,” agreed Sathale.

  “So write your message and I will carry it for you. I should warn you that he has heard of your intention to make an alliance with the Maoris, and he is troubled by that. He doesn’t want to be your stopgap, and he doesn’t want to be traded from the Tbrks to the Maoris. You can understand his thinking, can’t you?” Llotl slapped the hassock. “He is no one’s pawn. Neither he nor his country. ’ ’

  “I will explain all in my note,” Sathale promised grimly.

  Imhuro made a gesture of prote
st. “True Inca, think. These things are not to be written, for fear that others learn of them. Don’t reveal to that northerner what your High Priests do not know.’’ He glanced at Llotl. “I don’t speak against your leader.”

  Llotl had regained some of his cynicism. “I can tell him you have refused.”

  Sathale stopped the dispute before it could become worse. “No. No, he has a right to know.” He went back to his writing table and dropped into the chair. “I will comply; I must.”

  Imhuro started to speak, but was silenced by a single glare from Sathale.

  “And you,” said Sathale, addressing Llotl directly. “You will destroy this if you are caught. If anyone learns of what I have written, there is no place in the earth where you will be safe from my wrath. Some may think us primitive and backward, but we have great tenacity. Fail me, and you will learn that for yourself.” “I would not dishonor my master so,” Llotl vowed. “Swear on your place in the afterlife, spy,” Sathale said. His tone deceptively conversational.

  “May they pull my heart from my chest and give it to vultures to eat,” said Llotl. “But it isn’t necessary—” “Now watch what I write,” Sathale said.

  By the end of the month, the Spider kites guarding the coast reported sighting two Japanese ships approaching from the north. Runners were dispatched all through the city to bring those crucial clan leaders to a meeting in the Great Ocean Hall, and the telegraph lines from Algoma to Machu Picchu thrummed and sang with the news.

  “They are expected to arrive here by tomorrow evening,” announced Ilatha, who had been answering questions about the ships for most of the day. The Spider clan was expected to inform the other clans; Ilatha had delivered nine of the reports himself. “They are keeping to the coast and not starting out into the ocean, either for Hawaii or for the islands of the Maoris.”

  “The Japanese trade with the people north of us,” said Dyami, who had come to Algoma ahead of the other Four High Priests to prepare for the departure of ships bound for the Maori lands. “What can have changed that? The rulers to the north do not encourage their foreign traders to come here.”