Isle Of The Dead

by Roger Zelazny

  "I have three choices," I said. "I can kill you now, let you go your way, or allow you to accompany me. You may dismiss the first for the time being, as you are of no use to me dead. If you go your way, I will proceed as I began, on my own. If I obtain what I wish, I will return to Megapei. There, I will tell how you failed in your centuries-long plan of vengeance on an Earthman. I will tell how you dropped your plan and fled, because another man of that same race had scared the hell out of you. If you wish then to take wives, you must seek them from among your people on other worlds--and even there, the word may reach them eventually. None would call you _Dra_, despite your wealth. Megapei would refuse your bones when you die. You will never again hear the ringing of the tidal bells and know that they ring for you."

  "May the blind things at the bottom of the great sea, whose bellies are circles of light," he said, "recall with pleasure the flavor of your marrow."

  I blew a smoke ring. "... And if I should proceed as I began, on my own," I said, "and be slain myself in the coming encounter, do you think that you will escape from harm? Did you not look into the mind of Mike Shandon as you fought him? Did you not say that you hurt him? Do you not know that he is a man who will not forget such a thing? He is not so subtle as a Pei'an. He does not consider it necessary to proceed with finesse. He will simply turn and seek you, and when he finds you he will cut you down. So whether I win or lose, your end will be disgrace or death."

  "If I elect to accompany you and assist you, what then?" he asked.

  "I will forget the vengeance which you sought upon me," I said. "I will show you that there was no _pai'badra_, no instrument of affront, so that you may take leave of this vengeance with honor. I will not seek recompense, and we may go our ways thereafter, each freed of the hooks of the other."

  "No," he said. "There was _pai'badra_ in your elevation to a Name. I do not accept what you propose."

  I shrugged. "Very well," I said, "then how does this sound? Since your feelings and intentions are known to me, it would be useless for either of us to plot vengeance along classical lines. That fine, final moment, where the enemy realizes the instrument, the mover and the _pai'badra_ and knows then that his entire life has been but a preface to this irony--that moment would be diminished, if not destroyed.

  "So let me offer you satisfaction rather than forgiveness," I went on. "Assist me, and I will give you a fair opportunity to destroy me afterwards. I, of course, will require an equal chance to destroy you. What do you say to that?"

  "What means did you have in mind?"

  "None, at the moment. Anything that is mutually agreeable will do."

  "What assurance may I have of this?"

  "I swear it by the Name that I bear."

  He turned away and was silent for a time, then, "I agree to your terms," he said. "I will accompany you and assist you."

  "Then let us move back to my campsite and become more comfortable," I said. "There are things you have hinted at which I must know more fully."

  I turned my back upon him then and walked away. I knocked down the tent and spread the ffimsy then for us to sit upon. I rekindled the campfire.

  The ground shook very slightly before we seated ourselves upon.it.

  "Did you do that?" I asked him, gesturing toward the northwest.

  "Partly," he replied.

  "Why? Trying to frighten me?"

  "Not you."

  "And Shandon wasn't scared either?"

  "Far from it."

  "Supposing you tell me precisely what has happened."

  "First, concerning our agreement," he said, "a counterproposal has just occurred to me--one in which you will be interested."

  "What is it?"

  "You are going there to rescue your friends." He gestured. "Supposing it were possible to recover them without peril? Supposing Mike Shandon could be avoided completely? Would you not prefer to do it that way? --Or do you require his blood immediately?"

  I sat there and thought about it. If I let him live, he would come after me again sooner or later. On the other hand, if I could get what I wanted now without having to face him, I could find a thousand safe ways of taking him out of the game, afterwards. Still, I'd come to Illyria ready to face a deadly man. What difference did it make if the names and faces were changed? Still .

  "Let's hear your proposal."

  "The people you seek," he said, "are there only because I recalled them. You know how I did it. I used the tapes. These tapes are intact, and only I know where they are located. I told you how I obtained them. That which I did before I can do now. I can transport the tapes here immediately, if you so bid me. Then we can depart this place, and you can recall your people as you would. Once we are aloft in your vessel, I can show you where to burn or bomb to destroy Mike Shandon without danger to ourselves. Is this not simpler and safer? We can settle our own differences later, by agreement."

  "There are two holes in it," I said. "One, there will be no tape for Ruth Laris. Two, I would be abandoning the others. Whether I can recall them again is unimportant, if I leave them behind me now."

  "The analogues you recall will have no memory of this."

  "That is not the point. They exist right now. They're as real as you or I. It does not matter that they can be duplicated. --They're on the Isle of the Dead, aren't they?"

  "Yes."

  "Then if I were to destroy it to get Shandon, I'd get everybody, wouldn't I?"

  "That would necessarily follow. But--"

  "I veto your proposal."

  "That is your privilege."

  "Have you any other suggestions?"

  "No."

  "Good. Now that you've exhausted everything you have to change the subject, tell me what happened between you and Shandon back there."

  "He bears a Name."

  "What?"

  "The shadow of Belion stands behind him."

  "That's impossible. It doesn't work that way. He's no worldscaper--"

  "Bide a moment, Frank, for I know it requires explanation. Apparently there are some things _Dra_ Marling never saw fit to tell you. He was a revisionist, however, so it is understandable.

  "You know," he continued, "that being a Name-bearer is not essential for the design and construction of worlds--"

  "Of course it is. It is a necessary psychological device to release unconscious potentials which are required to perform certain phases of the work. One has to be able to feel like a god to act like one."

  "Then why can I do the work?"

  "I never heard of you before you became my enemy. I've never seen any of your work, save that which stands about me here, grafted onto my own. If it is representative, then I would say that you can't do the work. You're a lousy craftsman."

  "As you would have it," he said. "Nevertheless, it is obvious that I can manipulate the necessary processes."

  "Anybody can learn to do that. You were tallthig about creative design, of which I see no indication on your part."

  "I was talking about the pantheon of Strantri. It existed before there were worldscapers, you know."

  "I know. What of it?"

  "Revisionists, like _Dra_ Marling and his predecessors, used the old religion in their trade. They did not take it for its own sake, but, as you say, as a psychological device. Your confirmation as the Shrugger of Thunders was merely a means of coordinating your subconscious. To a fundamentalist, this is blasphemous."

  "You are a fundamentalist?"

  "Yes."

  "Then why did you apprentice yourself to what you consider a sinful trade?"

  "In order to be confirmed with a Name."

  "I'm afraid you've lost me."

  "It was the Name that I wanted, not the trade. My reasons were religious, not economic."

  "But if it is only a psychological device--"

  "That is the point! It is not. It is an authentic ceremony, and its results--personal contact with the god-- are genuine. It is the ordination rite for the high priests of Strantri."

>   "Then why didn't you take holy orders, rather than world engineering?"

  "Because only a Name may administer the rite, and the twenty-seven Names who live are all revisionists. They would not administer the rite for the old reasons."

  "Twenty-six," I said.

  "Twenty-six?"

  "_Dra_ Marling is under the mountain, and Lorimel of the Many Hands dwells in the happy nothing."

  He lowered his head and was silent for a time. Then, "One less," he said. "I can remember when there were forty-three."

  "It is sad."

  "Yes."

  "Why did you want a Name?"

  "In order to be a priest, not a worldscaper. But the revisionists would not have one like me among them. They let me finish the training, then rejected me. Then, to insult me further, the next man they confirmed was an alien."

  "I see. That is why you marked me for vengeance?"

  "Yes."

  "I was hardly responsible, you know. In fact, this is the first time I've heard the story. I had always thought that denominational differences meant very little within Strantri."

  "Now you know better. You also must understand that I bear you no personal malice. By avenging myself on you, I strike back at those who blaspheme."

  "Why do you indulge in what worldscaping you do, if you consider it immoral?"

  "Worldscaping is not immoral. It is the subjugation of the true religion to this end that I find objectionable. I do not bear a Name in the orthodox sense of the term, and the work pays me well. So why should I not do it?"

  "No reason I can think of," I told him, "if someone's willing to pay you to try. But what then is your connection with Belion, and Belion with Mike Shandon?"

  "Sin and retribution, I suppose. I undertook the confirmation rite myself one night, in the temple at Prilbei. You know how it is, when the sacrifice is made and the words are spoken and you move along the outer wall of the temple, paying homage to each of the gods--how one tablet lights up before you and you feel the power come into you, and that is the Name you will bear?"

  "Yes."

  "It happened to me at the Station of Belion."

  "So you confirmed yourself."

  "He confirmed me, in his own Name. I did not want it to be him, for he is a destroyer, not a creator. I had hoped that Kirwar of the Four Faces, Father of Flowers, would come to me."

  "Each must abide by his disposition."

  "That is true, but I had gotten mine wrongly. Belion would move me even when I did not summon him. I do not know but that he may even have moved me in my vengeance-design for you, because you bear the Name of his ancient enemy. I can feel my thinking changing, even now as I speak of these things. Yes, it may be possible. Since he left me, things have been so different ..."

  "How could he leave you? The disposition is for life."

  "But the nature of my confinnation may not have bound him to me. He is gone now."

  "Shandon ..."

  "Yes. He is one of the rare ones among your people who can communicate without words, such as yourself."

  "I was not always so. The power grew in me slowly, as I studied with Marling."

  "When I recalled him to life, the first thing that I saw in his mind was the anguish of his passing by your hand. But then, quickly, very quickly, he cast this off and became oriented. His mental processes intrigued me and I favored him above the others, some of whom had to be maintained as prisoners. I talked with him often and taught him many things. He came to assist me in the preparations for your visit."

  "How long has he been around?"

  "About a _splanth_," he said. (A _splanth_ is around eight and a half Earth-months.) "I called them all back at approximately the same time."

  "Why did you kidnap Ruth Laris?"

  "I thought that perhaps you did not believe your dead had been recalled. There followed no massive search on your part after I began sending the pictures. It would have been enjoyable had you searched for a long while to find that this was the place. Since you did not respond, I decided to become more obvious. I kidnapped one of various people who meant something to you. Had you not responded after that, when I even took the trouble of leaving you a message, then I would have taken another, and another--until you saw fit to come looking."

  "So Shandon became your prot_g_. You trusted him."

  "Of course. He was a very willing pupil and assistant. He is intelligent and possesses a pleasing manner. It was pleasant having him about."

  "Until recently."

  "Yes. It is unfortunate that I misread his interest and cooperativeness. Quite naturally, he shared my desire for vengeance upon you. So, of course, did your other enemies, but they were not so clever and none of them telepaths. I enjoyed having someone here with whom I could communicate directly."

  "What then caused the falling-out between two such fine friends?"

  "When it happened yesterday, it seemed that it was the matter of the vengeance. Actually, though, it was the power. He was more devious than I had allowed for. He tricked me."

  "In what fashion?"

  "He said that he wanted more than your death as we had planned it. He said that he wanted _personal_ vengeance, that he wanted to kill you himself. We argued over this. Finally, he refused to follow my orders and I threatened to discipline him."

  He was silent for a moment, then continued: "He struck me then. He hit me with his hands. As I defended myself, the fury grew in me and I decided to hurt him badly before I destroyed him. I called upon the Name that I had taken and Belion heard and came to me. I reached a power-pull, and standing in the shadow of Belion I burst the ground at our feet and called up the vapors and flames that dwell at the heart of the world. This was how I almost slew him, for he tottered for a moment on the brink of the abyss. I scalded him badly then, but he recovered his balance. He had achieved his intention; he had forced me to summon Belion."

  "What end did this serve?"

  "He knew my story, even as I have told it to you. He knew how I had obtained the Name, and he had a plan concerning it which he had been able to conceal from me. Had I known of it, however, I would have been amused. Nothing more. When I saw what he was attempting, I laughed. I, too, believed that such things could not be. But I was mistaken. He made a pact with Belion.

  "He had aroused me to anger and placed my life in jeopardy, knowing I would summon Belion if these things occurred and I was given sufficient time. He fought poorly, to give me that time. Then, when the shadow came over me and I stood as one apart, he reached out with his mind and there was communion. In this fashion did he gamble with his life for power. He said, had he spoken with words, 'Look upon me. Am I not a superior vessel to he whom You have chosen? Come number the ways of my mind and the powers of my body. When You have done this thing, You may choose to forsake the Pei'an and walk with me all the days of my life. I invite You. I am better suited than any man alive to serve Your ends, which I take to be fire and destruction. This one who stands before me is weak and would have consorted with the Father of Flowers had he been given a choice. Come over to me, and we both shall profit by the association.'"

  Here he paused again.

  "And?" I said.

  "Suddenly I was alone."

  Somewhere a bird croaked. The night manufactured moisture and began to paint the world with it. Soon a light would begin in the east, fade away, come again. I stared into the fire and saw no faces.

  "Seems to shoot hell out of the autonomous complex theory," I said. "But I have heard of transferred psychoses among telepaths. It could be something like that."

  "No. Belion and I were bound by confirmation. He found a better agent and he left me."

  "I am not convinced that he is an entity in his own right."

  "You--a Name-bearer--do not believe ... ? You give me cause to dislike you."

  "Don't go looking for new _pai'badra_, huh? Look where your last one got you. I only said that I'm not wholly convinced. I don't know. --What happened after Shimdon made his pact
with Belion?"

  "He turned slowly from the fissure which had opened between us. He turned his back on me, as if I no longer existed. I reached out with my mind to touch him, and Belion was there. He raised his anns and the entire isle began to tremble. I turned and fled then. I took the boat from its mooring and headed for the shore. After a time, the waters boiled about me. Then the eruptions began. I made it across to the shore, and when I looked back the volcano was already rising from the lake. I could see Shandon on the isle, his arms still upraised, the smoke and the sparks coloring the air about him. I went then in search of you. After a time, I received your message."

  "Was he able to use the power-pulls before this thing happened?"

  "No, he could not even detect their presence."

  "What of the others who have been recalled?"

  "They are all of them on the isle. Several of them are drugged, to keep them tranquil."

  "I see."

  "Perhaps you will now change your mind and do as I suggested?"

  "No."

  We sat there until light came into the world about fifteen minutes later. The fog was beginning to lift, but the sky was still overcast. The sun set clouds on fire. The wind came cool. I thought of my ex-spy, playing with his volcano and communing with Belion. Now was the time to hit him, while he was still intoxicated with his new strengths. I'd have liked to draw him away from the isle, into some section of Illyria Green Green had not corrupted, where everything that lived would be my ally. He would not respond to anything that obvious, though. I wanted to get him away from the others, if possible, but I could not figure a way to accomplish it.

  "How long did it take you to crap this place up?" I asked.

  "I began altering this section about thirty years ago," he said.

  I shook my head, stood and kicked dirt into the fire until I'd smothered it.

  "Come on. We'd better get moving."

  * * *

  Ginnunga-gap, according to the Norsemen, existed in the center of all space in the morning of time, shrouded with perpetual twilight. Its northern rim was ice and its southern was flame. Over the ages, these forces fought and the rivers flowed and life stirred within the abyss. Sumerian myth has it that En-ki did battle with and subdue Tiamat, the dragon of the sea, thus separating the earth and the waters. En-ki himself, though, was sort of like fire. The Aztecs held that the first men were made of stone, and that a fiery sky portended a new age. And there are many stories of how a world may end: Judgment Day, Gotterdammerung, the fusion of atoms. For me, I have seen worlds and people begin and end, actually and metaphorically, and it will always be the same. It's always fire and water.