All the Highest Caste listened attentively while the priests nodded their agreement.
“These . . . Khalia?” began the fortunate Gazili, “What do you want with them?”
Commander Horder straightened up. “You’ve got to understand that they started it. We’re not like they are.”
Again the priests nodded, one of them singing out his Endless Prayer.
“Does he have to do that, Commander?” asked one of the men with him.
“Leave it alone, Ecrilla,” Horder warned. “We need these people on our side. They’re too close to the Khalian area of influence.” He looked back at the seven-fingered men before him. “I can’t get used to some of these colonists. You know what I mean?”
“Yes, sir,” said Ecrilla at his most wooden.
Horder sighed and looked at the Highest Caste once more. “I wish we had better records about those early colonies. We don’t know winkles about them.”
“True,” agreed Spandril, who continued recklessly, “but if we stayed here a while, arranged for a study team, we could find out—”
“A study team?” Horder repeated. “Out here on the edge of Khalian territory? That would give them the excuse they need for another Target.” He stared at Admih. “You’re in charge, aren’t you?”
“I am the Speaker for the Highest Caste, yes,” said Admih with great dignity. “But each priest speaks for his God and not for the Highest Caste.” He pressed his fingers together and bowed lower than any member of the Highest Caste was ever expected to bow.
“The ones with the crossed ropes are Highest Caste, right?” Horder went on, feeling his way.
“It is the mark of the Caste, as the Gods have required of us since before the time we set out on the Celestial River.” He glanced at the Scribe of Ajna. “We have kept to the ways of the Gods.”
“There are records from the time of the Founding,” the Scribe confirmed.
“We’d like to see them, if you’ll permit,” said Commander Horder.
“Whatever the avatar desires we are here to fulfill.” Admih showed respect again. “You have but to tell us.”
The priest of Zivi bowed before speaking. “You of the Fleet; what are your Attributes, that we may know how best to serve you?”
Those with him were astonished by his audacity even as they admired his acumen, for we have long known that to address the Gods in any manner other than submissive is to court great harm. All waited to see what misfortune the avatar Horder would visit upon the priest of Zivi for such disrespect.
“The Fleet . . . well, it’s a little hard to explain it to people like you, who’ve been out of touch for so long, but we have established quite a . . . a group of connected planets out there. Many worlds are . . . within our influence.” He struggled to find the best way to describe the purpose and function of the Fleet. “We help to keep it all connected. We try to give protection and—”
“Ah,” said the priest of Vizna with a smile. “Protection. Given swiftly.”
Horder listened to the words of the spirit-box. “Ah . . . no, not that, it’s-—”
“Commander,” Spandril interrupted, “better not bite off more than they can chew, huh?”
“Oh . . . ” Horder considered the problem. “I suppose we can explain that later. The Khalia are more important, aren’t they?” He gave a signal to his men to encourage them. “They don’t need too many particulars yet, do they?”
“Probably not,” said Spandril.
“These Gods will not reveal everything to us,” ancient Derir warned Admih. “Gods conceal many things from men. We must be wary so that we will not be misled.”
“That is very true,” agreed Admih; several of the others showed agreement.
“Look,” said Horder, moving a few steps nearer, “we need your help. The Khalia are spreading out, they’re getting bolder by the day.”
Spandril coughed. “Tell them about Target. Keep it simple, but tell them.”
“Yes,” seconded Varnig, who had been watching the priests with increasing nervousness for the last several minutes. “Tell them.”
“God, I wish we had some place to sit down,” complained Horder to his men, and his remarks were duly conveyed to the Highest Caste and priests of Kel by the translating computer they had with them.
“We would be honored if you would accompany us to the Central Temple,” said Admih at once.
Horder hesitated and then said, “Sure. That would be fine. You lead the way and we’ll follow.” He motioned his men to fall in with him. “Keep your eyes open. We don’t really know what we’re getting into.”
“By the look of it, there isn’t anything we can’t handle,” said Ecrilla, apparently to make up for his earlier gaffe.
The gates of Kel were made of precious wood, from the scented arrani tree which grew only in the narrow moderate climate belt. Every time Kel was rebuilt more of the arrani wood had to be brought to the city, a journey that often took most of a year.
“Something stinks,” said Ecrilla in an undervoice.
“Stow it, Ecrilla,” said Horder.
“Yes, sir.”
“God, look at the place,” said Spandril as he looked down the narrow streets.
“He said God,” the Scribe of Ajna said quietly to Kazei as they moved along the central street of Kel, knowing that though the route was empty, they were being watched by those fortunate enough to live near this Sacred Way.
“Yes; I heard,” whispered Kazei.
“How’ve they managed to survive here?” asked Varnig of nothing in particular.
“They were pretty desperate during the Great Famine, according to the records,” said Spandril.
“They’d have to be,” said Ecrilla.
“The translator’s on,” Commander Horder reminded them. “Better think about what you’re saying.”
“Yes, sir,” said Spandril for the men.
Kel had been rebuilt only two generations before and the recent earthquakes had been mild, causing nothing more than minor damage. The paintings on the buildings were still bright; the Artisan Caste was strong in Kel, as in the other cities that must be rebuilt, and they were at pains to keep the city beautiful for the honor of the Gods. In the mining city of Djanrez the Artisan Caste had accomplished more, but nothing as wonderful as the paintings that adorned the Sacred Way of Kel.
“Did you look at those murals?” Spandril asked Horder as they walked along.
“I’m trying not to,” answered his Commander.
The Scribe of Ajna made note of this remark and murmured to the priest of Zivi, “He turns away from the exploits of Durga in all Her faces.”
“I have noted it,” said the priest.
“It is true that the Gods reveal themselves in many ways.” The Scribe hesitated at the door to the Central Temple, for he would not enter ahead of those of the Highest Caste, and the priests were above him in honor. In regard to the Visitors, there could be no doubt that they were entitled to enter first.
“What is wisest?” asked Admih of the High Priest of Durga, who was the leader of the Central Temple. “Since the God has not revealed His Godliness?”
“You and I will enter and invite Him and His attendants to enter,” said the High Priest. With these words he stepped through the portal and prostrated himself before the enormous altar that dominated the front of the temple.
Admih lowered his head before he crossed the threshold. “The face of the All-Mother is turned to the Celestial River which flows from Janja.”
The Highest Caste repeated this reverence as they waited for the Visitors to enter the Central Temple.
Those priests who were entitled to enter the Central Temple arranged themselves in proper order, each beginning to recite their Endless Prayers. The Visitors regarded them in silence which surely revealed again their divinity, f
or all others would speak their prayers in so holy a place.
“Better go in, Commander,” suggested Spandril.
“I guess,” he agreed, and moved forward.
The others came after Him, attending Him. The Highest Caste let the proper seven steps separate them from the Visitors before following them within the largest building in the city.
“Where do we sit?” asked Varnig as he looked about the place.
“There are pillows there in the side . . . galleries, I guess they are,” said Spandril. “Do you think we could—”
Admih clapped his hands; the priests went for the large pillows and pulled them into the center of the temple so that the Visitors would be able to see the enormous statue of Durga and show Her the courtesy of Gods for one another. “If it is Your wish, it is our honor to obey.” He waited while the priest served the Visitors as they were entitled to do.
Gazili came to the side of Admih. “I think I would sacrifice one of my children if I could be permitted to serve a God as they are doing.”
“This God has not asked it of you,” said Admih, sharing Gazili’s zeal. “If I had more than one child, I would wish to do the same.”
“Who among us would not?” asked Kazei as he fingered the medallion he wore. “There can be no greater attainment than to serve the Gods.”
“Even Vizna, though He is not allied to Durga,” sighed Muthali.
“All Gods are allied to Durga,” they were reminded by the priest of Yeimei. “She is the All-Mother; all things are Hers, even Janja and Vizna.”
The others made gestures of agreement as they watched the Visitors fold onto the pillows.
“We are eager to hear what you will say,” said the High Priest of Durga. “Your wisdom will sustain and inspire us.”
Commander Horder looked uneasily at the High Priest of Durga and then at his own men. “We want . . . we want to tell you what has happened between us and the Khalia.”
Again the name that caught the attention of all the Highest Caste, who moved nearer in order to listen to what the spirit-box told them. Telo, so young and fragile, was the only one who did not press forward, for he needed the support of a pillar to keep from collapsing.
“You spoke of a battle,” said the: High Priest of Durga, daring to speak out while within his own temple.
“Yes. One of our . . . our bases was destroyed by the Khalia. It was the first major act of aggression on their part.” Commander Horder looked at the men of Kel. “You understand that we regarded them as nothing more dangerous than pirates before that happened.”
“There was great destruction?” asked the High Priest of Durga.
“Yes,” Horder said grimly. “Castleton’s . . . slaughter.” He looked down, His eyes lowered.
“Ah,” said the High Priest of Durga as he nodded toward Her statue. “We must learn more of what these Khalia did.”
Horder took a deep breath. “Let’s just say that they’re crazy in battle. They are as maddened as beasts. They kill for the joy of it, and for the love of battle.” It was not easy to keep His voice even. “The loss of life was very high.”
“Where was this place, the . . . base you speak of,” asked the High Priest of Durga.
“It was . . . ” He stopped and looked at Spandril, “How would you explain it?”
Spandril was willing to attempt a description. “From here you would say it was in the sky, a great distance away, farther than any of you could travel on foot, in a dozen lifetimes.” He saw Horder signal him to go on. “There were thousands of people there, some of the finest men in the Fleet, and they were wiped out by the Khalia.”
“A fine sacrifice,” said the High Priest of Durga.
“If losing so many good men can be called fine,” said Commander Horder with bitterness.
‘’’They were honored, these men?” asked the Scribe of Ajna, though it was improper for him to speak in this temple.
Commander Horder looked baffled. “Of course. All of them are heroes.”
“Indeed,” said Derir, his old eyes shining. “The death of heroes.”
“It was that,” said Commander Horder. “And it’s why we’re making the effort to locate as many of the old Earth colonies as we can, so that we can protect you, and enlist your aid in fighting the Khalia,” He had said these words before, but always to colonies that had remained in some kind of contact with Earth. These isolated colonists were unknown to him, and he did not know how to proceed with them.
“How could such as we fight Khalians?” asked Admih as the Commander stared at him in appeal.
“He’s got a point,” muttered Varnig.
Commander Horder paid no attention to this. “We need every kind of help. Those Khalia are determined to wreck everything we’ve tried to build up. They’re out to destroy us and all we’ve accomplished.” He looked around the temple. “I can understand why you might doubt what I’m saying. You’ve been isolated for so long, it’s pretty hard to grasp all the changes that have taken place since you were sent out from Earth, but—”
“We came from Janja,” the High Priest corrected him politely.
“Yes. From Janja,” said Commander Horder impatiently. “Whatever you call it, we all started out there.”
“Commander,” Spandril said quietly, “it might be better to take a couple of the officials back to the ships and show them the tapes we have. That might make it clearer.”
Both Ecrilla and Varnig started to object, but Commander Horder interrupted them: “You’ve got a point. I don’t know what’s getting through to them now. And I want to get out of this place. That statue gives me the wobbles.”
“He trembles in the presences of Durga,” said Derir to Bezin with some satisfaction. “Make note of that.”
“This avatar comes from One other than Durga in any of Her faces,” Bezin agreed.
Commander Horder looked directly at Admih. “We have . . . records of what happened in the battle. We’ll show you. You’ll have a chance to see what they do.”
“See the battle?” asked Admih, since the High Priest of Durga did not speak. “How can you do this?”
“We have records,” muttered Horder.
“Sacred books,” said the High Priest of Durga with satisfaction.
“Not quite,” Varnig corrected, feeling more uncomfortable than ever in the presence of the Highest Caste, “There are ways . . . we can show you part of what happened.”
“Such is your power?” asked the Scribe of Ajna, astonished at his own bravery.
“Something like that,” replied Commander Horder as He stood a little straighter. “I think we can accommodate ten of you. If you’ll select ten, we’ll take you back to the ship and let you see what we’ve got.”
The priests immediately fell to debating among themselves, but the Highest Caste had no such trouble. “Derir is the oldest; he will come with me,” announced Admih. “And Kazei and Gazili and the Scribe.”
The priests eventually agreed that the High Priest of Durga, the High Priest of Yeimei, the High Priest of Zivi, and the High Priest of Vizna would see these Sacred Books and report to all what they contained.
Once outside the walls of Kel, Commander Horder had Ecrilla and Varnig flank the company of Highest Caste and High Priests. He gave a signal and the doors were opened for Him, and all passed into the great chariot, the celestial ship which had carried Commander Horder to Durga.
Never before had anyone of Durga seen such a thing as the ship that rode the Celestial River. In the Sacred Books there were descriptions of such things, but the chariots of the air were a thing of the distant past, and the ships of the Celestial River were more remote than that. It was with awe that the Highest Caste and the High Priests stepped aboard the ship and saw its wonders.
“There’s not much room,” Commander Horder explained, “The Determined is our
base ship, and she’s . . . a very long way off.” He motioned toward the ceiling. “We’re one of nine scouting parties in this sector.”
“Yes,” said Admih, knowing that the significance of the God’s words would be apparent shortly. “Nine scouts. There are nine avatars, then.”
“Avatar—what?” said Varnig.
“Don’t get into that now,” Spandril told the others. “It’s the translator, probably. You know what it does.” He had moved into a bend of the room to give more space to the Highest Caste and High Priests of Durga.
“We’ll tell you what’s going on, all through the tapes, and we’ll answer your questions at the end, if you don’t mind,” said Commander Horder as He addressed the others. “Most of the tapes are records, but we’ve had to fill in with a reconstruction here and there.”
“That’s one way to look at it,” said Ecrilla softly to Varnig. “Wholesale propaganda’s what it is.”
“Shut up, Ecrilla,” replied Varnig.
The ship was filled with marvels, and though not ornamented in the way we of Durga expect of a God, none within the ship were disappointed, for there were jewels and sculpture everywhere, and many glowing mysteries that caught the attention of the Scribe of Ajna more than the others. He contended later that most of the jewels were not that, but gauges and instruments, such as are described in the Sacred Maintenance Manuals. He was certain that the faint, whispered voices were from the ship itself and not from the spirits that protected and surrounded it. Only a few in the mining city of Djanrez followed him in this madness, but the Castes there are always extreme in their Views.
“There’s not much room, but if you can find a place to sit, we’ll put the pictures on the library screen there,” said Commander Horder, gesturing toward a high, blank wall.
Obediently all the Highest Caste and High Priests did as the God told them.
Lights in the room faded—the God and His attendants were not dismayed, and so the Highest Caste and High Priests of Kel were not dismayed, either—and the wall started to glow softly, and was then replaced with the bright path of the Celestial River.
The Fleet Book 2: Counter Attack Page 28
