1

THE FIELD OF PEACE Introduction

As said, THE FIELD OF PEACE came hot on the heels of
THE LAND OF FIRE in late 1983. My fear then was that I
might fail to do justice to the new scenario that opens in THE
FIELD OF PEACE and the transition to a more global
perspective. With the exception of some weakness in chapter
two, I should not have worried. The central characters
continued to lead their own existences, to work out their very
individual destinies, as they head towards the final
destruction.
I didnt understand the ending for years, thinking that Pol-Chi
had failed and that my artistic vision had been at fault (I
had been at fault). But if you consider the following novel,
THE BLUE RECORD, as a kind of commentary on
NOTHING DARKER THAN THE LIGHT, then you see that
dying might be a whole lot more difficult than many believe.

THE FIELD OF PEACE Summary

The Miracle of the North had different effects on different
people. It spurred the aristocratic Priest-Astronomer,
Hepteidon, to conceive a world plan to save mankind. All he
needed to do first was to take over the Empire, then perhaps
create a miracle of his own. Complications, of course, a slave
who seems to will his own death just to make a point, an
2

Imperial concubine who might be demanding the impossible

of him, and a wily Emperor with an agenda of his own.
Hepteidon will need his old companions from the Miracle
days to help sort out the mess. Trouble is, the kind of help
they bring is not quite what he is hoping for...

NOTHING DARKER THAN THE LIGHT

Volume three

THE FIELD OF PEACE

PHILIP MATTHEWS

Philip Matthews 1983

Part One: Ka-Ra

Chapter One
Close that curtain!
Van, the twenty-third of that name, the one hundred
and thirty-sixth of the line of the dynasty of the Ta-Shan, the
nine hundred and forty-fifth sovereign of the world of the
present Age which is the Seventh Age of Asta, the Old
Mother, the Hidden, the Unmollified, the Possessor of All
Gifts, the Begrudger of Man; which is the Fourth Aeon of the
Third Cycle or Month of Chorsa, the Comforter, the Source
of Human Gifts, the Instructress, the Intercessress, the
Beloved of Man; which is, as Every Age of the World is, the
Hope of Agnanna, the Virgin, the Happiness of Man, the
Companion of Man, the Upholder of Man the Chosen of the
Goddess, the Lord of the World, the True Light of Man, the
Fount of Justice and Order, Emperor of the Sun, Duke of
Ten-Ra, Lord of Sen-Ra, Head of Ka-Ra, the Imperial City,
the Jewel of the World, Defender of Faith, Guardian of the
Priesthood, Protector of the Temple, Keeper of the Histories,
Store of Wisdom, Grand High Lord Commander of all the
Imperial Armies, High Lord of the Central Armies, Lord of
the Central Army, Chief-Commander of the Defenders of the
Ka-Ra; the Father of all Man, the Provider of the World, the
protector of Human Happiness, the Great Navigator, the
Maker of Boundaries, and Constant Husband,
Van the twenty-third, Emperor, sweltered in the
confined heat of the chamber, shouted irritably at his
secretary-slave, Hsin.
A wizened yellow head, almost bald, keen-eyed though
rheumy, prominent ears, ink mark on left cheek, popped up
6

over a pile of rolls of parchment, looked at all the curtains in

the Imperial bed chamber, then peered down the room
through the uneven brilliance of the light of many lamps.
None is open, Father.
Van, seated on a high armchair at the farther end of the
chamber, shook the roll of parchment on his knee as a gesture
of intimidation, and pointing, shouted the length of the room:
That one there. Its not straight.
Hsins head disappeared. Muttering, he came out from
behind the table, bent-shouldered, and shook his head,
mumbling more loudly.
What are you saying, Hsin? Van said irritably,
looking up from the roll in his lap as though he had been
needlessly interrupted.
I said that that was a different matter, Father.
What is a different matter?
A curtain being crooked is not the same thing as a
curtain being open.
Oh, dont be punctilious, Hsin! You know as well as I
do that they amount to the same thing.
Hsin straightened the curtain by giving it a good shake.
Then he walked slowly back across the room. With his head
bent, he looked as though in deep thought, but in fact it was
the product of his deformity.
Van watched him. He struggled with his irritation. The
small figure of his slave represented total vulnerability. It
always seduced the Emperor.
You know the night air disagrees with me, Hsin. I will
get another chill, and then where will we be? Affairs would
fall behind again.
His slave nodded in a general way.
7

Before he could get back behind his pile of reports,

requests, acknowledgements, and graces, Van tried once
more:
You know strong leadership is needed at a moment
like this, Hsin. I must keep my health.
Hsin paused only at the instant of disappearing behind
his table and turned his bent torso slowly. Looking over at his
master, his eyes seemed to hover at the top of their sockets,
as the eyes of a great and holy saint are reputed to do. But
Hsins eyes did this only because he could not lift his head
very high.
Van sighed with pleasure. Now they would talk for a
little while, and escape the tedium of all the reports and
praises and petitions.
Hsin, my trusted friend, what is to become of the
world?
The rhetoric of the question was obvious and Hsin had
heard it used as an introduction to gossip for nearly twenty
years.
The world, Father, goes its own way when let.
Now, that will do it.
Youre right, of course, Hsin. The Duke of Bias-Il has
made his request again this year for the authority to return to
the cultivation of grain. He has made this request every year
for the last twelve years. Each year I have pointed out that
there is too much grain already in the Southern regions, while
we have a shortage of seed oil, which he produces. He claims
the right to switch to grain by way of the precedent that grain
was once grown there. But, Hsin, it is ten generations since
they produced grain. And do you know the reason he gives in
justification of his request? The farmers tell him it is
8

excellent land for grains. But I have told him again and again
that his island is one of the few places in that quarter of the
world where oil seed can be grown with ease on a large scale.
Do you know what that shows, Hsin? It shows how
hard it is to change people, even when it is to their advantage.
Now, you take Blas-Il. If I let them grow their grain,
what would happen? It could only be used as animal feed.
There is too much grain in the South already. Its impossible
to spare shipping to take it to the North-West regions, where
there is a shortage of grain. So what happens? It is used in the
South as animal feed and the inhabitants of Bias-Il return to
the kind of life they led three hundred years ago. The kind of
life, I remind you, which produced rebellion and the
destruction of everything there. Do they want that to happen
again? Why cant they see the wisdom of the present policy?
Look how things are now. They get premium prices
for their oilseed and their cities grow rich on the production
of oil, jars to contain it, and ships to carry it, Everyone is
busy and everyone gets well paid for his trouble. Shouldnt
they be happy?
Hsin, if that doesnt make people happy, what will?
Now, why do they want to go back to growing grain?
Yes, thats right its what their forefathers did. Thats it
precisely. They claim they have cultivated grain for how
long was it? Anyway, for some ridiculously long period.
Hsin interjected here in a smoothly practiced way:
For four thousand generations, Father. Since the
collapse of the Instrument, as they call whatever it was.
Yes, Hsin. See what I mean? And ignoring the
blasphemy implied in their claim, they must have been
9

barbarian savages ten times over before the Empire took

charge of their sorry brutal existence.
But Ill tell you this, my friend. I know the real reason
for their cheek. Theyre lazy. All those farmers want to do is
to sit on their arses and watch their grass grow till it ripens,
and then collect their money for the crops. Thats whats
behind all this bowing and scraping and precedents. All they
want to do is get money for nothing for themselves. They
couldnt care less about all those millions in the cities who
must have work in order to live.
Van paused and looked down at the roll in his lap.
Hsin, knowing what to do, easily filled the gap this
time:
The farmers suggest that the grain be distributed free
in the cities.
Vans head came shooting up:
And wholl pay for it?
The Imperial Treasury, of course, Father.
And where does it get the money from?
Taxes, of course, Father.
But wholl pay taxes if produce is cheap and no one
works or trades?
Precisely, Father.
Van suddenly stared at Hsin. He suspected he had been
manoeuvred. An ambiguity in the exchange implied that he
was being mocked. He decided to continue, to see if, this
time, he could expose the manoeuvre:
And what could become of everything if no taxes
were paid, Hsin?
There would be chaos, Father. There would be no
Empire.
10

There would be no Empire. Thats it! Thats what the

slave is playing at. Hes subversive.
Now I must catch him out.
And the world could not exist without the Empire,
could it, Hsin.
No, father, it could not.
You, for one, would starve. Whod need your
services? Youre too old and bent to work, you know no
practical skill, and you have no child to support you. Now,
have you?
That is true, Father. Without the Empire, I, for one,
would die.
Van was annoyed. He couldnt shake the slave loose.
He seemed to be able to circle his mockery without having to
reveal it. The way he echoed his for one put a peculiar bias
on his answer, as though he himself, the Emperor, was
another for one.
What a strange idea: being Emperor without an Empire
to rule.
Then I would have nothing to rule, Hsin, is that right?
That is so, Father. You would have no work either.
And therefore no means to support yourself.
What an infantile notion!
But I have my estates and titles. I could live on those.
Ah, Father, but by what right do you have those
lands?
Van stopped himself from walking into the trap. What
a peculiar conversation! The very subject is unthinkable.
Anyway, Hsin, you and I know that the Empire must
exist. Its a divine institution. Without it, there would be no
order in the world.
11

That is true, Father.

What precisely is true, Hsin?
All that you say, Father. You are Emperor by divine
right. That is unquestionable.
All? Does the Empire maintain order in the world,
Hsin?
Where would we be without Imperial order, Father?
Van spotted the tautology immediately. Not order but
Imperial order. He implies another kind of order. Now,
how do I trip him up here?
Is there any other kind of order, Hsin?
How do you mean, Father?
The glibness of the response irritated Van and he
almost lost his temper. Luckily, he checked himself in time.
But he showed some testiness:
I mean something like the notion of a natural human
order, Hsin. You know the theory, I presume. That the
Goddess created three orders: the priestly, the sovereign, and
the human. Though they are subordinated in a hierarchy, each
level retains a degree of necessary autonomy, so that it can be
seen to constitute an order.
Oh, that. Do you claim an authority distinct from that
of the Priesthood, Father?
Van felt himself fall headlong into this particular trap.
He thought quickly.
There are competences, as you know, Hsin, and
authorities which accompany them. The priesthood, for
instance, has no say in the practical organisation of the
Imperial order, though in principle that authority is not free of
priestly control.
12

For the first time, Hsin nodded. I am being

manoeuvred.
When Van brought his fingers to his lips, Hsin stopped
nodding and said in the same bland reasonable tone:
Perhaps then, Father, the human order could claim
competences and authorities on an analogy with those of the
Imperial order in relation to the Priesthood.
What is he after?
Admitted, Hsin. The human order is not directed with
regard to the details of its labour, only to the ends of that
labour. In a similar way, the Imperial order is not directed as
to the means to the fulfilment of its order, but only to its
ends.
Ends?
Precisely, Father. You see, I do not question the
Imperial order.
That tautology again. What is he trying to tell me?
What is it that he cannot say openly?
But, Hsin, the Imperium is sovereign with regard to
both its means and ends.
Of course, Father, but sovereignty is the characteristic
of the Imperial order; it is what defines it as an order. As an
order among other orders.
Van waved his hand at this piece of rote logic.
Surely, Hsin. But that sovereignty commands the
human order. That is the characteristic that defines its place
in the hierarchy of orders.
Of course, Father.
And Hsin nodded again and looked set to disappear
behind the pile of rolls.
13

It was the gesture of intended movement, the way the

slave moved his left arm back towards the hidden area behind
his table, that shook Van into a wider consciousness.
Of course! Now I know what he is getting at! That
priest!
Van raised his fingers to detain his slave.
But, Hsin, this characteristic, sovereignty, acts also as
a double limit in another area. It limits the Imperial order
with reference to the Priestly order, whose characteristic is
the wider one of piety. But it also limits the Priestly order
with reference to the Imperial order.
You see, Hsin, the Imperial order and the human order
have this in common: they are both worldly orders. The
human order is entirely worldly, while the Imperial order is
partially worldly. This is what distinguishes them from the
Priestly order, which is entirely unworldly. In this context,
the Imperial order has total command of the world, while,
conversely, the Priestly order has no power in the world, it is
an accepted principle that the Priesthood I mean to say, the
Priestly order can only act in the world through and on the
sufferance of the Imperial order.
Hsin had turned away from his table while Van spoke.
Appearing to listen intently, his fingertips pressed together,
he walked slowly towards his master, while diverging slightly
to his left. By the time the Emperor had finished speaking, he
was standing beside another small table, still appearing to
listen intently.
Perhaps, Father, Hsin said, fingers touching the
surface of the table beside a roll. While such a context
produces an interpretation to the advantage of the Empire,
there are other contexts which should be borne in mind. For
14

instance, to return to the earlier distinction between means

and ends. While it is universally admitted that sovereignty
gives the Empire control of its means and ends, it is further
claimed that Imperial ends are always subordinated, in
principle, to the Priestly order. In other words, divine ends
are prior to sovereign ends.
But not in worldly matters! Van shouted suddenly.
Bringing his fist down on the arm of his chair.
Hsin waited until his master had cooled. In the
meantime, knowing that the Emperors attention was diverted
by his anger, he sorted through the rolls on the table and
extracted one and laid it near at hand.
When his master had finally calmed, Hsin said gently:
It is not a matter of material affairs, Father. You know
that. It is a matter of the principle that the spiritual and the
material always coincide. The most obvious example, which
is in fact the usual proof of the principle, is the presence of a
moral aspect in all ordinary human affairs. The Priesthood, as
you also know, has, in principle, competence in moral
matters. An area, furthermore, in which the Empire has no
competence at all.
This time, Van did not explode. Instead he lowered his
head, whether in resignation or in response to the complexity
of the problem was not clear at this stage. He shook a fist in
emphasis, thinking what a nuisance this priest had become,
and said:
But, Hsin, I have control of all natural resources. They
cannot be commanded by any representative of the
Priesthood.

15

Forgive me, Father, but he does not seek to command

your resources. He seeks your authority to use them to a
moral end.
Van jerked his head up, glaring at his slave:
But all the resources of the Empire?
Hsin shrugged, trying to keep the conversation
abstract.
He says the moral problem warrants it.
Van abruptly stood up, sending the roll that had been in
his lap slithering to the floor. It lay twisted at his feet. A
droplet of sweat ran down his nose, irritating his hot skin.
He asks my permission to take control of my Empire.
He asks me coolly, mind you if he can be Emperor!
Hsin grabbed the roll he had sorted out earlier. He went
closer to his master.
No! Father, dont jump to conclusions like that! You
must think this out.
Seeing the roll in his slaves hand, Van waved him
away:
I will not even consider such an absurd request.
Hsin continued towards his master. His lips were dry
by now; he knew he was pushing his Emperor too close to
one of his famous wilful fits. Sweat beaded his forehead.
You must, Your Imperial Majesty. The priest has a
case. If he goes to Il-La, he could well get not only their
support but also their interest. Cant you see that?
Van fought to control himself by thinking of Little Ki.
It worked. His rage was diverted into a menacing lust.
The slave, of course, was right. Behind all the bluster
and ridiculous logic, the priest was, at least on his own
arguments, right.
16

But he would not let the priest present his arguments in

person. At least not until the Imperium had its own case to
uphold the prerogative.
So Van waved his hands airily:
Let him go to the Priesthood. They will see that his
claims are absurd, as I do. Theyve no interest, Hsin, in
upsetting the general order of things, especially now. They
know things are bad enough without making them worse.
Hsin was now facing his master:
You misunderstand me, Father. It is not a question of
whether the Priesthood can choose to ignore him. They
would have to accept his case in principle. They might not
like to take the matter up I doubt if they even want to hear
about it but they will have to make representations here.
You know what will happen then, dont you? The whole
matter will have to be thrashed out in public. That will help
nobody. Hsin paused, then said: You had better see him this
evening, Father.
Van assumed his Imperial persona:
I will not see him! Then dropped down: And thats
that, Little Hsin. Send the Chamberlain in his best robes to
him and tell him to make a written presentation, detailing his
observations and listing his recommendations. I will then
study this and give him my considered opinion on the
matter.
Van suddenly swung on his slave and bent to come
level with his face: I will not be manoeuvred by this upstart,
do you hear me?
Hsin heard the part of this threat that was intended for
him. He was known as the Manoeuvrer by many in the Keep.
Yet he withstood the barrage of hot air and spittle. He was
17

firm, though he did not like being this firm with his master. It
threatened to show up in an unfair way the peculiar weakness
of a ruler whose Will is said to be the very source of all order
in the world.
Emperors, at least, are not infallible.
We have told him that six times already, Father.
Then tell him six times again! Until I have such a
report I will not even entertain the idea of seeing him. And
thats that, Hsin.
Now the slave waved the roll.
This constitutes a report, Father.
Who do you serve, slave? Van was back to making
threatening remarks.
Hsin sighed inwardly:
I serve you, Father. As I always do. The priest insists
that he has made the report you request and has listed his
recommendations.
They are not recommendations, Hsin. They are
demands. And I will not brook anyone making peremptory
demands of me.
As on a cue, Hsin opened the roll, running his eyes
down it rapidly.
He says, Father, and I quote...
Van made a grab at the roll, but Hsin pulled it away:
Ive read the thing myself. I know what it says. Give it
to me and Ill show you what to do with it. Give it to me, I
say.
When his master advanced, Hsin put it behind his back.
Van glared at him, then deliberately struck him sharply
across the head:
18

Give it to me. Ill end this nonsense now, once and for
all.
Hsin stepped back, a look of dogged, dumb obstinacy
on his face. His eyes did seem to float at the top of their
sockets, gazing unwaveringly up at his master. A red blotch
was appearing on his left temple.
Give it to me now, Hsin. Van crouched in front of his
slave, spreading his arms out. Ill take it from you if you
dont. Then you know whatll happen.
I cannot, Father. You dont know what you do. Hsin
continued to walk steadily backwards. His courage was
fatalistic, resigned to the possible dreadful outcome. Van
dived on him before he could dodge away and began to beat
his head until he brought a hand up to defend himself.
Immediately, Van darted around him and grabbed the roll
held in the slaves other hand.
He spun away holding it over his head, laughing
jeeringly. Hsin made no attempt to follow him. He stood with
lowered eyes, rubbing his face and head, enduring the rising
throb behind his eyes.
Now, Van shouted to the room, once he had regained
his chair, I will do what I said I would do.
The parchment tore raggedly and noisily. Again Hsin
heard tearing; then once again.
A despair with unspoken roots entered him. Having
little that could be called his own, he felt even that taken from
him. He rubbed his head and pitied himself in the way he had
done as a child. He curled up inside until he was nothing.
How should I punish you for your disobedience,
slave? Van shouted across recklessly.
19

Being nothing now, Hsin ignored the Emperors

threatening taunt. He turned to walk away. The act of turning
away intensified his self-pity and he started to cry miserably.
You cannot be beaten; you are too old and bent and
weak. You eat nothing as it is. Theres only one thing for it,
slave, youll spend the night with the dogs under the stars.
How do you like that, slave?
Hsin wilfully decided to ignore his masters banter.
He only wants to make up, now that hes got his way.
Let him punish me. There will be, he quite suddenly
saw, a truth in the punishment that will hurt his master more
than it would hurt him.
So, in the freedom given to him by this insight, he
turned and shouted spitefully:
How will you legislate for fear, Emperor?
Vans eyes goggled.
There! thought Hsin: the unspeakable! He was
intoxicated by the sudden release he experienced. I have
spoken the unspeakable.
There was no turning back.
Van screamed for his guards. He glared at his slave
while waiting, saying in his most threatening voice:
Just you wait, slave. Just you wait.
Then he had to call for his guards again. Then he
screamed again, venting his rage on their non-appearance.
At last four guards came through the side door,
panting, clutching their spears and shields.
Van addressed them with terrible majesty:
Where were you when I called the first time? He
hinted at knowledge of dereliction of duty to the Imperial
person.
20

Their leader spoke with a cringing voice:

Sire, the main doors were locked. We had to...
Van turned to Hsin and gestured expansively:
Remove this slave to the dog compound. He is to be
placed in the compound.
The guards showed shock, but Hsin ran forward:
No, master. Think of what you do.
Oh, shut up, Hsin. You had your chance. He turned to
the soldiers, the edge of a smirk on his mouth. Take him
away. Ill give you authorisation for the dog-master.
He picked up a piece of the torn parchment. Walking
down to his slaves table, he idly read the fragment of
writing:

believed that the new star, Ilgem,

destruction.
that the root cause of the
rumours or prophecies as
but a deep seated fear in
woman of your Empire. Therefore,
with, not by countering the
by attacking the beliefs
He wrote on the reverse and handed the piece of
parchment to the leader of the guard.
Now, take him away!
Hsin, seeing that his master was serious after all, tried
to get down on his knees, but the soldiers took him under the
arms and carried him away.
21

Van watched the procession to the side door with an

expression of triumph.
But once the door closed on Hsin and his escort, Van
threw the writing shaft he had used across the room,
screaming,
Why didnt he beg sooner?
He raged at Hsin for breaking the rules of their twentyyear old game. He should not have tried to provoke him with
mockery.
Then he broke down. He raged against himself and the
knowledge that the Imperial Will could not be seen to
change.
What would he do without his Hsin?

22

Chapter Two
The armed escort was intended to protect its Lord
against attack in a city where armed violence had become
commonplace.
It marched on iron-shod armoured boots, four ranks of
five in front and four ranks of five behind, with two men on
either side of the Lord making up the ninth, middle rank. It
marched in step, stamping along with no intention of
breaking pace.
In a world where the symbolic colour of armed power
was black, where less formal threat skulked in dark corners
and operated by hidden means, the yellow armour of this
armed band was noteworthy. On this account alone they were
instantly recognisable. But there were two other
distinguishing features. For one thing, every man was tall.
Not as tall as the blue giants of the Old Race, perhaps, but
taller than everyone else in the Empire with the exception of
the tallest Merura nobles. More, they had white skins and red
hair, a very novel feature when first seen on the streets of KaRa, the Imperial capital. Admittedly, white skin of itself was
not unheard of, some of the merchants and seamen from the
eastern lands bordering the Empire of the Dawn were white,
and some even had sandy hair. But the combination of white
skin, red hair, and such tall powerful bodies was novel and
striking. Taken all together, the sight of their tightly ordered
ranks, bright with white, red and yellow, marching through
the streets as their Lord went about his business in the city,
was an impressive sight.
23

That they gave way to no one made them a fearsome

sight. When that determined regular crash of armoured feet
was heard, either in the narrow streets of the factory and dock
areas or on the boulevards of the merchant and official
quarter, it was a signal to get out of the way, even if it meant
driving your cart or carriage in among the pedestrians and
shops.
Yet there was spectacle in it. Despite the irritation of
flurried movement, the baulking of personal pursuits, once
the way had been cleared, everyone did settle down to watch
the escort and its Lord march past. Then they came, either
around a corner of a narrow street or up a boulevard leading
to the Imperial Keep, short yellow plumes, their striking blue
eyes staring straight ahead, then the great square shields and
complete body armour, all yellow. And the great axes, shaft
and metal head painted yellow, only the sharp blade showed
the gleam of naked metal. The weapons were a focus of
fascination. They were like the axe carried by the Imperial
axemen, except that they were proportionally larger. In the
hands of the blue-eyed troops they seemed as easily handled
as, say, a piece of wood. But when measured subjectively, as
though each citizen dreamed of carrying such a weapon and,
perhaps, marching in such company, the axes then seemed
huge and overwhelmingly menacing.
It had become the habit of onlookers to examine the
axe and shield of each trooper, especially of those in the front
rank and along the flanks, to see it they were marked in any
way. On some days, a dent or a scruffy mark would be
spotted on a shield. On others, an axe or two might show the
mark of painted wood. One day, it is said, an axe carried
traces of blood and hair.
24

They did not surrender right of way.

However, there was one feature of these tall
Northerners which was noted sooner or later by everyone
who saw them. It was noted privately but never admitted.
They were fearless.
This realisation produced different reactions. For some,
the axemen became objects of deep interest, bordering on a
morbid veneration. It was believed that they were blessed
men. But for others, the reaction was one of unease. Then the
axemen became objects of revulsion, who inspired nausea
and dread. It was believed that they were demonic.
There were many theories and beliefs given to explain
their lack of fear. At the most enlightened level, among some
of the aristocracy who had remained in the city, and more
commonly among the yellow-skinned merchants and Chiefs
of the bureaucracy, it was viewed as a common phenomenon
among newly conquered peoples, that they experienced a
form of cultural alienation that made them suicidal. As such,
their fighting men were drafted into the Armies, usually
forming the core of the regional Army centred on the
conquered territories. Hence, all the Armies of the Eastern
and Central provinces of the Empire were composed of the
black-skinned aborigines of those provinces, conquered
twenty generations previously. Through the practice of
establishing Armies on their own homelands and turning
them into castes, these Armies not only reproduced
themselves but also produced a surplus of men, who were
then either attached to other armies, usually in the West and
Northwest, where new blood was needed, or else were
brought together to form a new Army homeland, usually in
under-populated areas to the North and Northeast. On this
25

historical precedent, it was suggested that in time this new

Northern blood would first of all form the basis of new
Armies in the North and Northeast, thus establishing valuable
bulwarks against the Empire of the Dawn, and later would
supply new blood for the other regional Armies.
But among other aristocrats, especially those who had
anything to do with the administration of the Imperium or
who held lands or offices in recently conquered territories in
the East, the advent of these tall soldiers was viewed with
disquiet. With some knowledge of the social structure of the
great spread of white-skinned peoples across the North and
Northeast, it was recognised that these fighters did not view
themselves as soldiers but as warriors. While they could be
banded together and made to march up and down in ranks,
their use as fighters was dependent upon the individualism
and initiative peculiar to these peoples. They were, in other
words, men of extremes. They could either slaughter or drink
and whore. They had not the patience for the artificial life of
the Imperial Army nor the moderate policing duties they
normally undertook.
From this point of view, their fearlessness was part of
their culture, which, in its barbarity, was necessarily suicidal.
As such, it was a threat to the Empire, for to release such
manic forces within it would lead to chaos. The proposed
solution then was extermination while their numbers were
still small. Such new blood as these peoples offered could be
supplied by their women, carefully distributed throughout the
Empire.
Such a policy had precedent. Any knowledgeable
aristocrat could list at least three instances when such a
policy had been implemented, though, admittedly, it was hard
26

to find an instance which approached the scale of the present

problem. But, even so, it might have to be done, though it
would strain the resources of the Empire for a generation or
so.
The representatives of the Priesthood in Ka-Ra were
not concerned with such questions or problems. Their
concern was religious and took two forms. On the one hand,
there was the matter of establishing the Priesthood in the new
territories of the North, of acquiring sites for Temples in the
settlements and more secluded sites for seminary
monasteries, and of acquiring grants of land for the upkeep of
the priests of these new territories. The procedure here was
old and well known, requiring merely the identification of
potential sites and convenient lands. Already, survey teams of
priests had gone to the North to undertake the search. Then it
was only a matter of making formal requests to the Emperor,
receiving the deeds and getting down to work.
On the other hand, despite every attempt to prevent it
happening, the North had become a Holy Place. It seemed
to many, though it was disputed by priests from the South
and West that all the rumours concerning an impending
destruction of the world and the beginning of a New Age had
their origins there. It was not difficult to trace the original
source of all these rumours to the northern city of Ka-Bil.
Everyone said that. And the frank report of the late High
Priest there written just before his death in a riot in the city,
clearly showed the beginnings of the whole contagion to lie
in the absurd prophecy of an old barbarian priest who had
wandered in from the hinterland, obviously mad with a
delirium produced by long isolation from mankind.
27

The problem here lay not in the renewed religious

fervour of the Imperial subjects. Such increased religious
feeling assisted the Priesthood and could serve to
demonstrate both the need for and the effectiveness of its
pious work. It lay rather in the tendency of the rumours to
discount the Priesthood altogether. It was not a specific
tendency, such that it could be called heretical and so treated
in the usual manner. The effect of the rumours was to focus
all attention, not upon the Goddess or the accepted religious
rituals and prayers, but upon an event which was not itself
religious. Thus, the problem for the Priesthood was that of
combating a religious feeling that did not have a religious
focus. It could not be assimilated to accepted religious
practices. Worse still, the rumours, while inspiring deep
religious feeling, a sense of awe before the divine, for
instance, did not of themselves inspire any religious practice
at all. The whole work of the Priesthood was therefore made
superfluous.
Everyone seemed suspended within, as though each
had come to possess a similar deep need, awaiting the one
event which would satisfy it.
In fact, it had been said privately by the High Priest of
the city, that the whole world was now engaged in one great
religious service, that it awaited the sacrifice.
Even so, the problem remained: how to combat these
rumours and defend the Priesthood, It had been successful in
persuading the Emperor, though it had taken many audiences
with his Chamberlain, to ban all unofficial travel to the
Northern continent. But fanatical hordes still went on foot
across the continent to Ka-Bil, which had been reduced to
ruins by religious frenzies and outright civil disorder. Worse
28

still, they had flocked further north to the new settlements of

Ka-La-Tlu and Ka-Bey, the sites of new rumours and
prophecies. It would he impossible to establish any kind of
administration, religious or civil, so long as this disorder
lasted and the military remained in control.
The solution? Combat the content of the rumours, of
course. This is a matter of symbols. The most obvious initial
step to be taken is to ban the chief, in fact, sole symbol of this
new religious movement: the use of the colour yellow. In its
place, the conventional religious colour, blue, should be
emphasised.
So to begin with, here in the Imperial City, the soldiers
of the Lord Hepteidon, priest, should be banned from the
streets.
The dusky streets were deserted, as they always are,
except for the usual skulkers in shadows. But they posed no
threat to the armed escort. Up from the compound near the
Monastery of the Priesthood on the shore at the eastern edge
of the city, they marched through the narrow streets of the
eastern poor quarter. The escort was supplemented, as it was
night, by a number of servants carrying torches. This was
necessary because nowadays all the shops and houses were
closed and shuttered before the sun had even set, so that no
light fell on the darkening streets. They marched out onto the
wider avenues of the middle class quarter, tramping noisily
across the wooden bridges of the canals that marked the
boundary of the two quarters, rich and poor. Up the centre of
the avenues, deserted and dark, the foliage of trees sometimes
reflecting the torch light, but the houses dark, hidden behind
their walls and locked gates. Then they swung onto the great
29

central boulevard, the Avenue of the Sun, which led north up

from the docks to the Keep of the Emperor. Up and up they
marched, their tramping boots creating echoes off under the
flanking trees, in courtyards and against high bronze gates.
Then they came to the stone bridges over the wide
canals and waterways which separated the middle class
quarter from that of the aristocracy. The troop did not slacken
its pace, for did they not escort a Merura nobleman? They
entered the area of parks and gardens, that ambiguous
bulwark of the aristocratic quarter: could not an enemy lie in
wait here as you could lie in wait for him? Here the regular
tramp of iron shod boots was diffused rapidly among the
open spaces, the trees and the flowers.
From here the last rays of the sun could be seen,
shooting up momentarily in the rapid tropical decline into the
sea. Above, pursuing the sun down, the waxing moon was
turning yellow. Higher again, directly above now, was Ilgem,
the New Star, brightest star.
But looming up against the northern sky was the great
Imperial mountain, Mu-Ra, rising regularly to a cone against
the stars, a dark steady mass of rock, symbol of the stability
of the Empire.
Only one light could be seen on the Tower of Pa, the
Imperial Keep and palace. Once, it would have been
festooned with lights, a great fire burning on top behind the
battlements, a symbol of the continuous presence of the
Emperor, a symbol of the living quality of the Empire. Now
only one light, large enough to be seen from the sea, but yet
only a token light maintained at a price no one knew.
The troop marched past the mansions and palaces of
the great Merura aristocrats. They marched on with the same
30

deliberate pace, echoing against the high walls and great iron
gates. They marched, but were more watchful. Here, if it was
ever agreed upon, opposition to the claim to right of way
would be contested. But now all was in darkness, though they
were watched from sentry huts and, perhaps, from private
chambers. What was seen was, from one side, a flank of
square yellow shields, from the other side, a line of axes and
a flank of yellow leather armour. In the flickering light of the
torches, the yellow was many-hued and ambiguous: ranging
from the dirty brown of mud, through sickly and brazen hues,
to rich gold and richer pure yellow.
To those that had turned to it in their desperate search
for an escape from fear, yellow was the colour of promise. To
those who witnessed it on such a night as this, in the guttering
light of the torches, passing along empty streets and avenues,
yellow seemed to promise everything: good and evil.
It seemed to be no more than a mirror of what the
perceivers themselves were.
The column marched on, up past the aristocratic
dwellings, and no one attempted to stop it. It approached the
great bridge over the waterway or moat that separated the
Imperial Compound from the rest of the city. The huge iron
gates beyond the bridge were closed, the bastions in darkness.
The axemen marched onto the bridge and marched towards
the gates, no slackening of pace, until a command was given.
Instantly, the column crashed to a halt. Silence
followed. Another order. An axe rang against the iron gate.
Silence.
A postern gate was opened. A black-skinned soldier
thrust his head out.
31

The leader of the troop took one step forward and

barked gutterly:
The Lord Hepteidon to visit the Keep!
And stepped back.
The gates opened, screeching on their hinges, unused
to the movement. Until only eighteen months previously, the
gates had not been closed in over fifty generations.
A shouted order and the column recommenced
marching. They marched straight forward in the darkness, up
the last stage of the Avenue of the Sun, knowing their way.
Behind them, the Imperial guard watched them and
wondered for the seventh time:
Who permitted the admission of armed men to the
Imperial Compound?
No one could remember. And no one could be
bothered to check.
Now the troop marched through empty parade grounds
and ornamental gardens. They were dominated by the bulk of
the Mu-Ra and only the blazing light on top of the Imperial
Keep told them how far they had still to go.
They marched, wary but, strangely, less apprehensive.
No one would block their way here. Once admitted to the
Compound and within the military jurisdiction, they had no
fear of random attack or personal resentment. The order for
entry was an order which totally restricted the Imperial guard.
Then the Keep began to reflect flickers of torch light.
Gigantic blocks of granite threw back an infinity of tiny starlike lights and gleams. Except directly before them: the
cavernous entrance to the Keep.
Again, the axemen marched without slackening until
the order was called. Partially within the porch of the
32

entrance, the last crunch of the column was deafening,

echoing back across the Compound and up through the Keep.
Again an axe struck iron and clanged away into the
night When the postern was opened, the leader took one step
forward and barked:
The Lord Hepteidon seeking audience with the
Emperor!
When the figure in the postern nodded and stepped
back, the leader turned smartly about and shouted a
succession of orders. The axemen broke rank, turned,
wheeled, and stamped until they formed a protective
perimeter around the gate, part turned out towards the
Compound, part turned towards their Lord and the open
postern.
The Lord Hepteidon stepped forward, followed by four
axemen, ducked and stepped over the threshold into the
Keep.
The attendants who awaited him were brown-skinned
underlings. They had been given no instructions, though they
had received notification of the proposed visit through the
usual channels. The note had said, as usual, that the priest
was to be brought to the receiving chamber of the
Chamberlain. Nothing had ever been said concerning his
armed retinue.
At first the stairs and walls of the Keep were bare,
damp and clammy. Iron shod boots crashed on the stone and
echoed up the building. Then, on the third floor, there was
rush covering for the floor and sacking on the walls. The air
was drier and warmer, the stamping of the axemen absorbed
and dulled. On the fifth floor there was carpeting; on the
walls plain hangings of indeterminate colour. Now the
33

atmosphere was close and comfortable, a gentle perfume in

the air, the stepping more silent and apparently more at ease.
At the eight floor, the attendant led off to the left,
followed closely by the supplicant and his retinue, who by
now knew the way.
Then the ceremonial of door knocking, enquiry,
acknowledgement, and announcement.
The Chamberlain kept the Lord Hepteidon waiting
only a very short while. There was no advantage in the tactic
on this occasion. The Chamberlain, in fact, was weary of this
particular chore and wished to get it over with as soon as
possible.
My Lord, he said, bowing, his great cloak sweeping
off his shoulders, the weight of it in the hot airless room
suffocating him.
Lord Chamberlain.
The reply was abrupt, without expression.
Your business, my Lord?
I wish to see the Emperor.
On what business, may I ask?
You know. I have been here before.
Ah, Yes.
The Chamberlain invited the Lord Hepteidon to sit.
Then he sat in an armchair beside him, carefully separating
his legs to allow whatever cool air there was to circulate on
his thighs, at least.
My Lord, the Chamberlain began, a stony expression
on his lined red-skinned face. An audience with His Imperial
Majesty is out of the question. I have explained the reasons
for this before. But for your benefit, I will explain again.
34

You have, I believe, made a written submission to His

Imperial Majesty, which requests, among other things, an
audience with His Imperial Majesty. This being the case, you
must, as is proper, await His Imperial Majestys Command.
At such a time, and only then, will you be admitted.
Until then, I am afraid, it is my duty to tell you, regretfully,
that you can have no admission to the Imperial presence.
The Lord Hepteidon raised his brows and pursed his
youthful lips and stared directly before him. He seemed nonplussed.
Then he nodded his acceptance.
If it is as you say, my Lord Chamberlain, he said
formally, looking over, then what can he done? It is as His
Imperial Majesty wills it.
He smiled and stood up. The Chamberlain immediately
relaxed and smiled in return, standing up too and pushing the
heavy cloak off his shoulders. Discreetly, he loosened his
damp tunic, but it simply clung again to his sweating body.
It is a pity, Lord Hepteidon, he said in a partially
personal tone, speaking as one Merura aristocrat to another,
that your petition should cause you such inconvenience.
The young man looked enviably cool and lithe in his
light, yellow priestly gown. He replied easily.
Ah, Chamberlain, you know how it is. My feeling of
urgency is not shared by His Imperial Majesty. Perhaps I did
not clearly express myself in my petition.
He drew a small roll from the sleeve of his gown.
Perhaps, ah, Chamberlain, you might pass this on to
His Imperial Majestys secretary, the little slave Hsin. It is an
addendum which should, I hope, clarify matters.
The Chamberlain looked at the roll.
35

I would take it, my Lord, except that poor Hsin is,

once again, ah, out of grace with His Majesty. My advice in
the circumstance is that you bring this, ah, addendum on
another occasion. Until Hsin returns, or a new secretary is
appointed, I am afraid there is the danger that your missive
will be overlooked or, perhaps, even lost.
The young mans shoulders sagged and he looked
down at the roll in his hands.
This is very aggravating, my Lord Chamberlain. I
have given a lot of thought to the composition of this little
addendum. It will explain much and put an end to the
inconvenience we are experiencing. He seemed to think.
Suddenly bright, he looked at the Chamberlain. Perhaps you
could bring it to His Imperial Majestys attention. Yes, I
know it is, taking everything into consideration, a small
matter. But this little favour would be esteemed and
remembered in better circumstances. He paused. Will you
put me in your favour, Chamberlain?
The Chamberlain again looked at the roll, pursing his
lips in thought. He looked at the young man in yellow,
conscious of the four yellow clad soldiers over at the door,
remembering the tremendous new obsession with the colour
yellow.
There is something wholly new here.
It signalled all kinds of unspeakable things. Even...
even a...yes...
Revolution.
Being at the very heart of the Empire, the Chamberlain
could conceive of such a thing. At the centre there was no
depth, nor was there height. Everything was level and
obvious. Here the grandeur and repute of the Empire was but
36

one mortal man, whose failings the Chamberlain knew in

detail.
Used to thinking the unspeakable at the heart of the
Empire, the Chamberlain could recognise the unspeakable as
it approached that centre.
I wish I could offer you, and your companions,
refreshment, my Lord Hepteidon, but it is late and your visit
is, as it were, voluntary. But I will do you the honour, as
befits your station, of accompanying you to the stairs.
The young man smiled an easy gratitude. Nothing else
showed. He turned towards the door and paused until the
Chamberlain came up to his side.
An axeman opened the door for them and then fell in
behind.
In the silent, ill-lit corridor, stuffy and close, the
Chamberlain bent his head and said in a low voice:
My Lord Hepteidon, I would gladly do you this favour
you ask of me, though, of course, you understand, I cannot
guarantee that His Majesty will read it, much less act on it.
Having received an acknowledgement of his offer, the
Chamberlain continued,
In return, perhaps you would render me a small
favour, my Lord.
Tell me it, Lord Chamberlain.
You return to the city? Good. Perhaps you would
consider taking a slave into your service. Admittedly, he is
old and weak and good only for reading and writing, but he is
a faithful and no doubt, under the circumstances, a grateful
man.
He was signalled to continue.
37

You would have to take him with you now, this night,
my Lord, and take him from the Imperial Compound with
sure discretion. No, I assure you that no one will prevent you
from taking him, but, how should I say it? Ah, yes. It would
be helpful if no one saw him leaving the Compound.
The alternative, I fear, my Lord, for this old slave is a
most cruel death for what in other times would have been
seen to be a slight misdemeanour.
The young Merura still listened attentively.
There is but one condition, my Lord. This slave must
be kept incognito for the duration of your stay in Ka-Ra.
Were his presence in your household to become known, there
might, again even in these times, be serious repercussions.
But otherwise, my Lord, you will find him, in all seriousness,
a most useful addition to your staff.
The fact that I broach this request, my Lord, must
show you that, despite his little faults, he is a person liked
and respected in the Imperial household.
The Chamberlain felt the roll being pressed into his
hand under the cloak.
He smiled and nodded to the court attendants, who in
turn smiled and nodded their relief. One of them ran off
ahead.
I thank you, my Lord Hepteidon. You are
magnanimous.
And I thank you, my Lord Chamberlain. You are most
amiable.
Until the next time then, my Lord, under more
auspicious circumstances, I hope.
They bowed to one another and the little troop, of
attendants, axemen and Merura noble set off down the stairs,
38

passing from one level to another, the atmosphere growing

more stark but more cool, until it became barren and clammy.
The attendants at the entrance to the Keep presented a
little, fidgeting bundle, wrapped in sheeting and obviously
gagged.
The Lord Hepteidon tapped the head of the bundle and
said humorously.
Keep in step now, little Hsin, and walk tirelessly.
He signalled. Outside, commands were given. The
troop of axemen formed up. The little bundle, legs tripping
and sometimes kicking, was placed behind the Lord and a
length of rope passed to him. He nodded.
On command, the troop began marching with a solid
crash, and went down the Avenue of the Sun towards the
perimeter of the Imperial Compound.
Only once was it necessary for the Lord Hepteidon to
bend down and say to the running, tripping, gurgling bundle:
In step now, little Hsin. Do it, if you value your life.
Beyond the Compound, the troop wheeled right and
followed the waterway separating the Imperial quarter from
the city until the Avenue of the Army was reached, here it
wheeled to the left and went down through the quarters, over
bridges and along successively narrower thoroughfares,
towards the great military compound on the shore in the
western part of the city.
Hepteidon was careful to approach and depart the
Imperial keep by different routes every time.
In this way, the inhabitants of every part of the city
became used to hearing and seeing his little troop of axemen,
while knowing little of his actual movements.
39

Whenever a troop of axemen were heard or seen

marching along the city streets and avenues, it would always
be assumed to be the Lord Hepteidons troop.
And no other.
The moon had set. The guttering torches
notwithstanding, it was easily seen how clear a shadow the
new star, Ilgem, cast.
Its light was definitely brighter.

40

Chapter Three
The Emperor Van the Twenty-third, surnamed TaShan, but which had never been used, for the Emperor had no
peer, lay back, sated, on his pillows and experienced
numbness where once he had experienced a clamorous selfsatisfaction.
But numbness had its advantages.
Nowadays, numbness gave him, for a short time at
least, his own self. Van did not notice that in this short time
he gave himself over entirely to the erotic. But he actually
wanted that: it was where, for him now, value lay.
Now, as always, the erotic operated through a
comparison. The Imperial bed was set towards the corner of
his chamber furthest away from the main doors and from the
windows. On the wall beside the bed was his favourite mural
painting. It had been a favourite of the Ta-Shan Emperors for
nineteen generations, for twenty-nine Emperors, though not
the obsession it had become for Van.
It depicted the Emperor Pay the Twenty-seconds
conquest of the South-eastern lands, called Zimp in the native
tongue and simply Nu, its ancient designation, by the
Imperial officials. There was the usual cavalcade of Emperor
and victorious Army a brown-skinned army then
prisoners, slaves and booty, including the mysterious Idol of
the ruling class, a complex structure made of a metal that
resembled silver, but which was brittle and could not be
worked by the Imperial metallurgists. The inside of this Idol,
Van recalled habitually, allowing his phantasy grow slowly
towards its moment, was a labyrinth of shelves, boxes,
41

passages, sealed in places by complicated metal parts that

only resembled hinges. It had rusted in places, but seemed,
from marks in certain places, most unlikely places at times, to
have functioned once upon a time in some way or other. But
all the black-skinned possessors could tell of the Idol was that
they had possessed it for some absurdly long period, a period
reckoned to span at least two and a half Ages of the world.
But to mollify the religious sensibilities of the new
members of the Empire, it had been set up alongside all the
other idols of the subject peoples and consecrated to the
Goddess.
The prisoners had included the usual defeated royalty
and nobility of the black peoples, who had been retired to KaRa, put to death, or sent to the far ends of the Empire. The
slaves depicted in effect a cross section of the black societies:
soldiers, craftsmen, priests; in fact, those elements of the
conquered peoples useful to the Empire. It also included
examples of the women. There were two criteria, as usual
breeding and beauty used in selecting the women.
The beauty represented was of the three kinds, stature,
feature, and body. As was the usual practice of the Emperors,
and some of the aristocracy, selections of each type of beauty
were brought together, along with selected men, and bred in
order to combine or enhance one or more kinds of beauty.
It was remarkable that in the case of the beauty of the
women of Nu, every Emperor without exception had sought
to enhance that peculiar beauty of the body represented in the
mural.
Perhaps it was because the two examples in the mural
had so far been impossible to match. Perhaps the original,
naturally produced, as it wore, women had in themselves
42

been the perfection of that kind of beauty, or perhaps the

artist had had a truly sensitive eye and hand.
Whatever the reason, it had become an important
hobby of the Ta-Shan Emperors for nineteen generations to
match those two figures in the mural.
Now Van allowed his gaze to fall upon the two figures,
posed at such angles as to give an all-round impression of the
features of such bodily beauty. They were so familiar to him,
that he felt the involuntary spark of recognition, as though
they were old and trusted friends. Their faces were reposed,
possessing dignity and showing no resentment at their
condition. They appeared to approve of the display made, and
appeared to approve of the act of display. Their bodies were
soft, rounded, full, perfectly proportioned, and carried with
grace. Van dwelt upon the body of each, absorbing the detail,
mentally combining the bodies till one perfect and available
body appeared in his mind.
The gentle gaze of the womens eyes, giving an
infinity of understanding and open acknowledgement,
allowed Van to do this with ease.
He lay there, gazing at the figures in the mural, with
the composite body in his mind hovering somewhere between
the two figures, and contemplated the image until his natural
scepticism wore down his imaginative wonder and brought to
him its perennial hunger.
This was the moment when he prodded the comatose
figure beside him and pushed her off the bed.
He had been assured that Little Ki was finally the
perfect representative of the desired beauty. She was sleepyeyed now, staggering slightly, not quite aware of her role yet.
She was also excessively sullen, Van thought, though for the
43

moment her inability to control her passion, a looseness she

had to a greater degree than usual, was a counterbalance to
the ingratitude.
Van rolled over and slapped her sharply across the face
to bring her to attention. It worked. She slipped into her role,
posing for him, moving as his fingers indicated.
Now Van, watching her, constructed a second image.
He composed Little Kis wide hips, rotund buttocks, the latter
a little too exaggerated, though the agents sought to deny it,
her short waist; then full thighs and nicely small knees; then
her wide, though not too wide, shoulders, these she had
almost to perfection, though the agents had not been told this,
and strong arms. Then he returned his attention to her deep
chest and squared rib case: here there was perfection, for the
strong torso supported the most splendid breasts Van had
ever seen. This the agents knew, for they had witnessed
Vans instinctive gasp of wonder and admiration at the first
showing.
Perhaps Little Ki had already intuited Vans decision,
perhaps her tendency to behave casually had been the result
of such an insight, that her master intended to keep her with
him and never allow her body to be marred by breeding.
The breasts were the last part to be added to the image.
He held the image in his mind, superimposed on, and
continuously stimulated by, the body of Little Ki. Then,
carefully, concentrating, he brought the two images together.
For an instant they merged and Van saw perfection.
Then the images split, both slipping away to their
respective realities, one to become painted figures on a wall
illuminated by the unstable brilliance of massed lamps, the
44

other to become a living, sullen woman whose eyes Van had

never met.
And Van split also, as usual, one part knowing clearly
the impossibility of what he desired, the other part struggling
by means of rage and demand to combat the unmoving
knowledge of the impossibility.
In this struggle, Van was always compelled to act. Not
to act was to come under the control of a certain knowledge
that admitted of no desire. The courses of action set in train
by the struggle within him were various. They could range
from pulling Hsin from his cot in order to do some work, to
fits of frustrated rage, to the most abandoned sexuality, to
acts of violence and cruelty.
Tonight the impulse to act seemed to be restricted. He
felt this even though he did not know why the restriction
existed. He imaginatively tested possible actions. The only
actions that seemed possible were contradictory. On one hand
he should control; on the other hand, he should destroy.
Because destruction was easier than control, and also
because he was aware of existing at the centre of control, Van
sought an object for a possible act of destruction. He
naturally eyed Little Ki, who was only now realising that her
role was finished for the time being. He watched her come
back towards the bed, rolling her hips, the muscles of her
thighs working smoothly under her dark-brilliant skin.
Instinctively she supported her breasts with a crooked arm.
Even so, they swung heavily as she turned and sat on to the
bed. She continued to hold them until she lay back, when she
let them loll away to either side.
She watches me!
45

Then Van saw mockery in her sullenness. She had

been trained from childhood to carry herself erect, she could
not help but do it now. Yet there was an emptiness in her, a
sense of being overburdened by her...by her body. Hating
what others treasured, she mocked her bodys admirers.
Why was this?
All the other Little Kis is before her had exulted in
their beauty, because it gave them power and influence
wherever they were. To those they came in contact with, each
voluptuous beauty had signified to those with special
knowledge the living embodiment of what was called the
Empires secret deity, the Black Goddess. By all they were
treated with deference, were regarded with admiration, and
hungered for with never-sated lust. They were subject only to
their master, the Emperor himself, and while their relations
with the Emperors varied, it was more usual than not for
them to have more influence over their masters than their
wives, who were drawn with little choice from a narrow
spectrum of the greatest Merura families, could ever have.
And the abandonment of this particular Little Ki was a
counterpart to her sullenness. In her, Van suddenly realised as
though drawing on new knowledge, there was a reluctance to
control.
And in its place was not an urge to destroy, but a
complete indifference to everything.
She lay there now, completely slack, her beautiful,
splendid breasts lolling as though they were bubs that had
suckled a dozen children, instead of the product of a
generations-old breeding programme.
Has the blood run out? Should he, and his successors,
turn their attention to the new blood coming from the North?
46

But Van shuddered to remember the large-boned,

straw-headed, vehement women he had been shown recently.
They were uncontrollable.
But the body of Little Ki showed no sign of
degeneration: nor had any degenerated strains or products
been reported.
Why then these extremes of apathy and abandonment?
She looks at me!
He could see the line of tense muscle reaching to her
left breast, drawing up part of the flesh.
Why?
Then the new knowledge in him was clearer: he
remembered Hsins eyes, floating up to the top of his sockets,
regarding him like a holy saint from some pious legend.
Why?
Then he saw the thing he had learned when the little
slave had screamed at him, which had decided him to destroy
him.
Van was afraid of what he had seen. And was afraid of
it now, because it was in the room with him.
It was inside himself.
It was terrible.
But it was inside Little Ki, too:
That was why she stared at him. She wanted to show
him that!
But her breasts did not speak of it, nor did the beauties
in the painting. Nor did anybody in the painting. They all
looked to him as...
Their Master.

47

Van got off the bed and went down the chamber, under
the uneven brilliance of many lamps, feeling his body
beginning to heat in the stuffy dead tropical air of the room.
Hsin!
Then he remembered, but anyway going down to look
at the empty cot beside the overloaded table.
Hsin had to go. If that had not been followed through,
then everything would have begun to fall apart.
The Will must will.
He went to the side table and saw the little roll the
priest had left. He picked it up and glanced over at the
fragments of parchment lying at his chair.
What is to be done?
Locked up here, the Imperial Will now reaches only
into the dark. How many of my orders are actually carried
out?
I have not heard the dogs yet.
The priest had said
The Solution is this:
The solution to what?
He opened the roll and noted immediately how little
writing was on it, even though the parchment was small.
It began:
From the priest Hepteidon to His Imperial Majesty,
Van the Twenty-third, Greetings from your Loyal Son.
And before he could stop them, the words jumped into
his consciousness:
Son! Thats a bond that cannot be broken!
His hands were shaking.
I have no sons!
48

He dropped the roll and hurried away across the

chamber.
The far wall stopped him.
He turned and surveyed the room, lit brilliantly and
yet, as the reflected light on the carpet showed, lit weakly. He
could see Little Ki stretched out on the bed, but could not tell
if she was watching him.
He feared her mockery!
But he could not have her killed, as he had Hsin killed.
It had taken him only one such act to realise that everyone
would have to be killed.
He suddenly started off down the chamber towards
Hsins cot and table, pushing away the implacable knowledge
that arrayed itself in his mind.
He gazed at the lowly cot with its rumpled, soiled
sheeting; at the table with its rolls, inks, blades and writing
shafts.
The Imperial commands had issued from this desk.
He sat down on the little hard bench and laid his arms
on the edge of the desk, noting the scars and stains on it.
He had seen something in Hsin for an instant, then he
had recognised the same thing in himself:
but it was unthinkable.
How had it been forced to the surface in Hsin?
The priest!
Van jumped up and ran to the little table. He ignored
the discomfort in his body, the clamminess that attacked his
skin.
His Loyal Son!
But what did his loyal son have to tell him?
Fear breaks every bond.
49

Fear makes men free.

He was too stunned to feel anything.
How could the priest know such secrets?
Van was relieved that he saw his inmost fear mirrored
in the priests knowledge. It meant that he was not alone after
all.
But the Imperial Will asserted itself: how could such a
man possessing such a secret be allowed to live? The deepest
secret of the Empire could be shared with no man: hope
controls; fear destroys. The two most fundamental weapons
of the Empire.
The Will must be One, despite what anyone, even Van
himself, wished.
Van called for his guards. They came immediately,
through the side door.
Get me the Captain of the Compound Guard.
Instantly!
While waiting the arrival of the Captain, Van strode
down to the bed. He was lathered in sweat, but for once it
stimulated him. To Little Ki he said, obscurely:
Ill have my way, despite the mockery of the world!
Then he looked her in the eye. Her face was broad and
a trifle too strong. Her eyes were like bright almonds. They
were also unwavering, the pupils glistening, intent stones
watching him with keen appraisal.
My Will will have its way.
Theres the real secret of the time: despite everything,
my Will is needed.
No one can be free.
The Captain of the Compound Guard charged into the
room, panting and flustered. He was followed by a bustling
50

line of heavily armed soldiers, each sweating profusely under

the weight of leather and iron.
I want you, Captain. I dont want your army!
It took time to sort out the confusion, for while the
leading soldiers were quick to understand their Emperor, the
soldiers out in the hallway had not and so struggled forward,
thinking that perhaps heavy fighting was under way in the
chamber.
Van drew his Captain away from the melee, He spoke
as softly as the noise would allow him:
In a nutshell, Captain. The time has come to clear out
that warren of yellow axemen. We do it in response to the
request of the Priesthood. Wait, Ill give you instructions.
A fragment of parchment lay at his foot. He picked it
up and marched down to Hsins table, reading it idly:
objective will involve the total
resources of the Empire. For
consuming purpose must be
the mind of every subject
future of the Empire.
I believe that I have
realise it, I ask your permission
of the Imperial resources.
It reassured him. Total resources, indeed!
He sat and scribbled a warrant for the execution of all
those who wore the colour yellow in a conspicuous and
provocative manner, citing as reason for this Command the
petition of the Priesthood, and indicating that execution of
this Command was therefore a Holy Purpose.
51

Giving it to his Captain, he said:

Tomorrow morning. At first light. Use all necessary
force. I want that cabal broken up, Captain, do you hear me?
And that includes its leader. He paused and reflected. In
fact, Captain, everyone there. Clear it out. Go to it now. You
have my Blessing.
The Captain saluted and ran. He did not even glance at
the warrant: he could not read.
Then Van rummaged on the table till he found a piece
of parchment. He wrote:
To the High Priest of the Imperial City,
Ka-Ra, Greetings from your Emperor, Van,
I am glad to inform you that a Command has been
issued today proscribing all wearing of the colour
yellow under the penalty of death. It has been done, as
you suggested, as a Holy Cause.
He called a guard and gave him the script to take to the
Chamberlain for delivery in the morning. Then he rubbed his
hands, plucked at his sodden tunic, and wiped his face.
Practical affairs always stimulated him.
Getting up, he shouted at Little Ki over the pile of
rolls:
Get ready, Little Ki, my little cow, I come for you.
Little Ki was ready for him, knowing the nature of his
need. She crouched on hands and knees on the bed, her
overly protrusive buttocks presented to him, showing her sex
glistening in ready anticipation.

52

But Van had eyes only for her pendulous breasts,

hanging, Van thought, synthesising his image of her with
facility, like ripe melons.
With a sigh of glad anticipation, knowing that it would
be good this time, he knelt in behind her, entering her
peremptorily, bending over her to clutch her heavy, yielding
perfections.
Van happily anticipated nothing.

53

Chapter Four
Hepteidon untied the rope and lifted the sheeting away.
Now, little Hsin, you are safe for the moment.
Hsin blinked rapidly, though the light given by the two
lamps hanging from the ceiling was not strong. He gave the
tall Merura one baleful glance and went to work on the gag.
Meanwhile, Hepteidon found a chair and drew it over
and sat.
The first thing Hsin said, once he had cleared his throat
and moistened his mouth was:
You think this is funny?
Hepteidon leaned forward, elbows on knees supporting
his head.
No, no, Hsin. Dont misunderstand me. I am bemused,
thats all.
Hsin now looked around him. The room was bare,
except for some charts on a wall and a pile of rolls on a
scarred and stained table. He raised his eyes.
You are a scholar, Merura priest?
I am an Astronomer, secretary-slave.
Hsin nodded. Then he brushed his wrinkled tunic
clown. Having done this, he cocked his head suddenly.
It is cool here.
Hepteidon nodded and pointed to the window.
Hsin took a sharp breath.
There were no curtains!
In wonder he went to the window, feeling cool night
air play over his face.
Beyond a high wall was the sea, calm in starlight.
54

You do not fear, Astronomer-priest?

Hepteidon saw the Imperial slave and adjusted himself
to that.
Of course I do, Hsin, but, how will I put it? I act
within its ambit.
Hsin nodded. Theres some sense in that. Is it painful?
Only when I dont act, Hsin.
Then Hsin noticed the shadow of the building in the
grounds below.
What makes this shadow, Astronomer? It is too weak
to be that of the moon.
The moon has set, long ago, Hsin. Hepteidon paused
and saw the yellow-skinned man start.
It is the light of the star, Ilgem.
Ah, the Beast-Star the people call Binin.
You have heard of that name?
Yes. Everything comes, or came, to my attention
sooner or later. The name comes from Nu, apparently. It
means Harvest. It is a good solid image.
Are you not afraid, little slave?
My master sent me to my death. He even wrote it
down. Now, you see, I am dead. The Imperial Will is
irreversible, because it necessarily has effect by its mere
utterance.
Ah. Such remorseless logic. But you are welcome
here, good Hsin. I give you your life back.
Hsin turned from the window and faced Hepteidon.
Not even in your goodness, Hepteidon the Merura,
can you give me back my life. He grinned. But you might
find me useful in my death.
Hepteidon slapped his knees and stood up.
55

So be it, Hsin. In your death you are free, remember

that. Stay here because you find value in it. When you want
to leave, tell me. Now, I will get food and drink to maintain
you in your death.
Hsin heard the humorous Merura-Astronomer-priest in
the corridor shouting, Uos, Uos, food and drink for a dead
man, and turned back to the window, delighting above all to
see the world again.
The old man who followed Hepteidon into the room
was hissing:
Be quiet, Hepteidon. You will wake Sora and her
baby. Goodness knows she needs rest.
Now, Uos, you know how a baby sleeps on a full
stomach of milk. Like the dead.
Suddenly Hepteidon laughed and turned to Hsin,
catching Uos sleeve.
This is the dead Imperial slave, Hsin, late secretary to
His Imperial Majesty. In his death he is thrown into our
company. Hsin, this is the storyteller and late High Priest of a
far, dead city, Uos the Argumentative.
A wail came from far down the corridor. Uos clucked
and turned on Hepteidon:
You see, Lord Merura! I told you.
He ran out the door.
It is his child? Hsin asked, indicating the door with
his hand.
Theres a long story there, Hsin. Perhaps Uos will
tell us someday. There are many ramifications, some of them
rank superstition.

56

Hsin raised his brows with puzzled curiosity, and

Hepteidon saw for the first time Hsins eyes floating at the
top of their sockets.
Like a legendary saint, he thought, stopping himself
from asking Pol-Chis question.
A man with a humble expression brought in a bowl of
meat and bread and a small pitcher of water. He left the room
again without raising his eyes.
Eat now, Hsin. Then talk or sleep as you wish.
Hepteidon pointed to the chair and then went to the
window. The sea was calm in starlight, a brighter light
playing on cresting waves.
It brings beauty first, anyway, he thought in his
habitual preoccupation.
Like a woman.
And the man makes ready for his paramour. And for all
that follows. The baby still whimpered in the distance.
He turned away, seeing the aptness of the image, and
unbuckled his belt, swinging the scabbarded sword onto his
cot.
Hsin said behind him, swallowing rapidly to clear his
mouth.
And you are a soldier, priest-noble-Astronomer, the
Captain of a column.
Hepteidon laughed quietly:
The world grows dangerous, Hsin, do you know that?
Men turn against men in their despair.
I have read of it, Merura. Yet no one takes the blame
for it. Always some other man is the cause.
How astute, Hsin. So nobody is to blame. But why
dont men see that?
57

How can the inevitable be acknowledged, Hepteidon?

Even the truth cannot be allowed to stop mans actions.
Hepteidons face lighted.
Hsin, you must stay with us until Pol-Chi arrives. He
is the wise one now. He can discuss such matters with you.
The whimpering was suddenly louder. Hsin shrugged
and put the bowl aside by dropping it on the floor, perched on
the chair as he was, legs dangling.
That sort of thing is common knowledge, priest, once
you think about it.
Uos came in, carefully holding the mewling bundle.
Hepteidon glanced over, saying:
Thats easily said, Hsin. But it smacks of
complacence. You must have food for thought in the first
place. Perhaps your...
I have brought him, Hepteidon. Perhaps the company
will entertain him, Uos interjected heedlessly.
Oh, very well. But you spoil him.
Hes not a Merura, Hepteidon, Uos growled,
glancing down at the bundle. to be reared on restriction in
order to improve character.
Hepteidon ducked his head, grinned, and went to pull
out another chair and place it near Hsins.
New ways for the New Child, is it, Uos? Sit here. Is
Sora coming? She ought to join us if she is awake.
Just then Sora entered the room, her eyes circling,
resting momentarily on Hsin and then settling on the bundle
in Uos arms. Uos saw this and said.
I will hold him if you like, mother.

58

But Sora came and took him and sat in the chair beside
Hsin. Uos flexed his arms, rubbing the wetness in the fold of
his left arm. The baby fell silent, its head turned into Sora.
Find a chair, Uos. Hsin, this is Sora, titled the Silent,
for she does not speak. And that is her child, a boy who is yet
unnamed. Sora, my lovely, this is the late secretary-slave of
the Emperor, Hsin, who has come to live with us.
Hepteidon went then and sat on the floor facing Hsin
and Sora, his back propped against the wall. He waited until
Uos has dragged a chair over to a spot which allowed him to
face both Hepteidon and Hsin
Now, Hsin, will you tell us of your death?
It was Sora who started, throwing a glance at the lateslave.
Hepteidon laughed at this and said.
Hsin will explain this joke of logic, wont you, Hsin?.
Hsin drew his legs in under him and resettled himself
again. With every one seated around him, he could lower his
eyes somewhat. Even so, the new pose made him appear even
more like a legendary saint, old, dried, yellow.
There is not much to tell, Im afraid, he began
tentatively, not used to speaking either narratively or to an
attentive audience. In short, I offended my master and in
punishment he sent me to my death. But old Tosa, the Keeper
of the Imperial Dogs...
How did you offend your master? Uos suddenly
asked, annoyed at Hsins lack of skill as a storyteller.
Oh, Hsin replied airily. In a moment of distraction I
forgot myself and failed to act like a slave.
Uos gaped, and Hsin quickly said,
59

In a moment, good Uos, you will see what I mean.

But first allow me to complete the outline of the events. As I
said, old Tosa, the Keeper of the Imperial Dogs, whom I have
known since youth, could not bring himself to put me in
among the dogs, despite the fact that I told him that he must
do so in accordance with the Imperial Command, and that I
gave him my full permission and blessing to do so.
Well, if Tosa could not do it, and I was not in a
position to do it myself, for I was not Commanded, then what
would be done? Tosa spoke to the soldiers who had brought
me, and they didnt seem to know what to do either. So we
sent for one of the attendants, who are reputed to know of
ways and means, and he suggested bringing the matter to the
attention of the Lord Chamberlain, who, though no one will
ever admit it, does exercise a wilful discretion. Its wrong, I
know, but there you are, it helps to smooth matters at times.
The Chamberlain came down, even though he was
expecting a visitor you, I suppose, Hepteidon and he read
the Command carefully and sat down in Tosas cabin and
reflected deeply. After a while he brightened up and clapped
his hands. He called the soldiers and told them to take me
into the compound and place me there and then bring me out
again. This they did, keeping the dogs back with their shields.
Why it was necessary, I dont know, for I know each dog by
name and each knows me. In other words, they would have
come to be patted, thats all.
Now, perhaps the Chamberlain was strictly literal in
his casuistry, but that he knew he was not following the
intention of my master is proven by the fact that he could not
take me back to the Imperial bedchamber. I pointed this out
to him, but all he did for my trouble was to tell me to shut up.
60

He went off then, saying he had his visitor to attend to, and
that he would try to find some way around this other
problem.
So, I was left with Tosa, to share a drink with him and
talk of old days. That was pleasant, for it had been a long
time since I was free to go out and about in the Compound
and talk to my old friends. Suddenly, then, some of the
attendants appeared, gagged and hooded me, and before I
knew it I was quick-marched by a long and, I suspect,
circuitous, route here.
There you are! And here I sit!
Sora looked quickly at Uos, and he studied her face
for a moment and then asked Hsin:
But why do you say you are dead, yellow saint?
Hsin laughed, highly amused by the realisation that his
storytelling had been successful. He bowed sideways to Sora:
My lady, it is in accordance with the Imperial Will
that I am dead. That Will decreed my death and so I am
dead.
It was Hepteidon who spoke now:
But tell me, Hsin, now that we are engaged in logic,
when or where did the Imperial Will, as such, specify your
death? On your own admission, all the Warrant commanded
was that you be placed among the dogs. And this, you say,
was done.
My dear Hepteidon, can you not see that my death
was intended by such a Command?
Hepteidon screwed up his face and began to interlace
his fingers over and over. Uos was gurgling behind his
hand. Sora stared expressionlessly at Hsin, then jerked and
61

began to unlace the front of her gown in order to free her

right breast.
But Hsin, Hepteidon said slowly, watching his
fingers, you have also said that the dogs would not have
attacked you, that each of them knew you as a friend. So how
could even the intention of the Imperial Will be fulfilled?
Hsin sat bolt upright and stared straight before him,
Uos began to laugh openly, his face reddening.
Sora gave her dripping nipple to her child and watched
it suckle.
Then Hsin spoke with a kind of awe:
I believe youre right, bright Astronomer. It would not
have been possible, while following my masters instructions
to the letter, to have fulfilled even the intention of his
Command.
Slowly, he scratched his brow over his right eye.
It seems, then, that I am not dead after all.
Uos exploded in a convulsion of laughter, spluttering
as he made a last attempt to hold it back. He jumped up and
hurried from the room. They heard his loud, uproarious
laughter go down the corridor.
Sora withdrew her nipple and the infant began to cry
loudly. Hepteidon said over to her:
He bites you again? When she nodded, he continued.
His gums grow hard, dear one. Should you not leave him
with the wet nurse?
In reply, Sora offered her nipple to her baby, squeezing
it with two fingers so that it jutted and her milk surged up and
trickled down on to her fingers. The baby took it and
quietened.
62

Then Hsin slumped again and said in a more resigned

voice:
I fear that it is not the case, after all, Hepteidon. You
see, my master did intend my death. The Command assumed
that putting me among the dogs would have ensured my
death. When Hepteidon began to shake his head, Hsin spoke
more firmly: Cant you see, Astronomer? Allow me the
indulgence of an hypothesis, though I would not normally go
to such extremes. Now, the fact that I was not returned to the
Imperial bed chamber and my masters presence after all the
formalities demanded by the Imperial Command had been
completed, indicates that it was known that my master would
have tried to find some other way of having me executed. He
may have chosen flaying, beheading, drowning, dropping
from a height, anything. And one of these, I assure you,
Hepteidon, would have been successful.
No, it seems to me that even if an Imperial Command
cannot be effectuated, the intention and objective of that
Command must be considered fulfilled. In my case, then,
though the instructions of the relevant Command would not
have effectuated the objective of the Command, that is, to
have me killed, it remains the case that the intention and
objective of the Command must be considered as having been
fulfilled. In other words, merely because it was commanded
by the Imperial Will, I am dead. Now.
Hsin brushed down his wrinkled tunic with obvious
pleasure.
Hepteidon watched him with narrowed eyes.
Sora sat the baby forward on her knees and began to
slap its back firmly but gently. The baby, for its part, looked
63

with wide-open eyes at the contented Hsin, milk trickling

down its deep dimples.
In that case, Hsin, while your logic impresses me for
its rigour and integrity, it seems to me that the Imperial Will
cannot be realised, as it were, without the compliance of
another will. In your case, the Imperial Will can only be
fulfilled by the compliance of your will.
The baby burped loudly, and Hepteidon looked at it in
surprise, as though he had heard an original comment on his
argument.
Hsin ignored the interruption and said, when
Hepteidon had returned his attention to him:
Of course, good Hepteidon. My will is subject to my
masters. That is elementary.
Uos returned, looking very refreshed and gay. He
carried a jug and small bronze cups.
Forgive me, friend Hsin, for my laughter. I did not
mean to mock you. But logic has its absurdity. To make
amends, I bring wine.
Hepteidon was surprised to see the somewhat nervous
regard in Hsins eyes. But, even so, he rubbed his hands with
relish and accepted the filled cup. Then Uos handed one to
Hepteidon and turned to Sora with another one. It had been
Pol-Chis instruction that she be offered a drink whenever
they drank together. She did not always accept it, and then
accepted wine only. Now she looked down at the sleeping
baby, whose little sparsely covered head rested against her
breast. Uos fussed. Finally, he put the cup down and took
the baby and laid it out on Hepteidons cot, pushing the
scabbarded sword to one side. When he returned, he found
that Sora had taken the cup.
64

He took the last cup for himself and sat down.

Now Hepteidon looked down into the bright brown-red
liquid and saw streaks of gold there.
Let us drink to Hsin, master logician, who is not yet
sure whether he is dead or not.
They raised their cups to him and drank,
Hepteidon wiped his mouth, coughed behind his
fingers and said:
But, Hsin, there is no necessary connection between
the Imperial Will and your will, is there? I mean, you are not
necessarily obliged by the Imperial Will.
Hsin finished drinking, made an appreciative eye to
Uos, and collected himself around the cup in his lap:
This is not a matter of strict logic, as perhaps you will
readily see, good Hepteidon. For some, it is a feature of the
divine institution of the world that the Imperial Will obliges
all other wills. For others, it is a principle of sovereignty.
And what of men, Hsin?
Oh, you mean the third order, the Human Order. Man
is, in himself as part of the Human Order, not so obliged, for
that would imply the existence of a third determinative
power, along with the divine and the sovereign. But man is
obliged indirectly, but inescapably, by the two powers,
mediately by the sovereign.
Bravo, Uos cried, raising his cup to Hsin. The
yellow mock-saint took him seriously and raised his cup in
reply.
But, Hsin, man in his Order could, strictly speaking,
deny the rights of those powers. Such a thing often happens.
The existence of the Imperial Army indicates this, as do the
incidents of rebellion.
65

But you see, as you say, it is rebellion.

Hepteidon leaned forward from the wall. Uos was
passing about, bent, pouring wine.
But that, dear Hsin, is only from the point of view of
the sovereign power. Couldnt rebellion speak of a right in
the Third Order?
Hsin was aghast.
Rebellion has no rights. It contradicts the sovereign
Will.
Now Hepteidon tapped his knee:
But consider, Hsin, all action necessarily has effect.
As such it must contain how will I put it? an order. There
has to be a right in that order.
Hsin drank quickly.
A shout came from outside, then another. Uos jumped
up and went to the window.
I do not think that can be said in principle, Hepteidon.
I will dismiss the case of the man falling to his death, for I
assume you mean to refer to deliberate action. What of the
case of mistaken judgment, when an action produces an
unintended effect, or again the outcome of ignorance or
imperfect skill? I think you...
The ships come, Hepteidon! Uos shouted in sudden
excitement.
Hepteidon scrambled up and jumped to the window.,
Are they from the North or are they Pol-Chis? Uos
asked, pointing out at the dark line of vessels passing under
sail not far from the shore. I cannot tell.
They come out of the North, Uos. But that need not
mean they come from the North. But they are like the small
ships used by the Northern Fleet under Tan-Set.
66

Uos drew back, showing his disappointment. The

poet is a long time coming, Hepteidon.
The Merura leaned forward slightly and touched Uos
shoulder.
It is a long way, storyteller. Hell come soon.
But Uos gave Hepteidon a shrewd look and then
turned away.
Hepteidon continued to gaze out at the ships, saying:
Is it fortuitous that they arrive this particular
morning?
But Uos felt in the absence of Pol-Chi the absence of
Korkungal also, so he did not reply.
Perhaps it is as Pol-Chi insisted. All things are
supplied for a Holy Operation.
The sails would be yellow. Yes, it gathers here now.
Hepteidon called down into the yard below for a
messenger. Then he went back into the room.
I am sorry for this interruption, Hsin. It cant be
helped, Im afraid. It is a pressing matter.
But let me say this, without recourse to the
elaborations of logic. I raised the question of the possible
rightness of human action for this reason. It is important to
discover the nature of such a right, its principles, and modes
of operation. And for this reason, whether you or the
Emperor acknowledge it or not, the Human Order, as you call
it, now takes on an action of its own. You may call it
rebellion or chaos, nevertheless it is an action with potentially
serious effects. I want to know its bases in order that some
way be found to control it. Can you see that? Good. I would
like you, now that you are here, and possess the knowledge
and rational power, to study this problem for me.
67

It will earn your keep, Hsin, and give you something

to do in your pseudo-death.
A black-skinned soldier came in.
Ah, Sert, Hepteidon said, turning to him and
extending an arm. Its not quite dawn yet. I want you to go
to the Army Compound and meet the Fleet. Explain the
tactics to Tan-Set. Take this map. He picked up a roll from
the table and gave it to the soldier. Tell the ChiefCommander that he may have to act this evening, so hes to
get on with it. The signal will he three columns of black
smoke at irregular intervals during the afternoon. In that case
he moves once the sun has set. But remind him from me: no
unnecessary killing. So, off you go. Stay there if it is
inconvenient to return. Oh and tell Tan-Set that, despite all
appearances to the contrary, I will not need his help here. Go
now with my blessing.
When the soldier had left, Hepteidon turned to the
others.
I think we should sleep now, Hsin. Uos will find you
a spare cot. By the way, can you handle any weapons?
A bow, Captain Hepteidon. My constitution permits
that.
Hepteidon smiled.
Oh, Hsin, I command as a Merura Lord, as the
hereditary Lord of Bas-Ku, in the homeland of the Merura.
But I am glad you are a practiced archer. It is a useful skill in
defence.
Hsin slid down from the chair. He came up to the
Meruras heart only. But he bowed deeply.
My Lord commands me.
68

No, no, friend Hsin, Hepteidon the Astronomer-priestMerura Lord and other things, requests your assistance as a
man.
Hsin looked up, wrinkled his brow till it was deeply
corrugated. His eyes floated up and up.
To the extent that a dead man, upon which I insist, can
assist a living one, you have it.
Hepteidon, in the act of turning away, stopped and
asked with sudden intensity:
Hsin, what is a living man? No, no, but think about it.
We will talk again soon, I hope.
Uos came over and showed himself ready to guide
Hsin.
Rest, Uos. Do not grieve so. Remember his words.
As I do.
Sora picked up her baby and Hepteidon accompanied
them all to the door.
Back in the room, he saw the first glimmers of dawn
out over the sea.
Soon.
He drew the curtain and went to his cot.
There was a wet stain in the centre. Hepteidon smiled
and picked up the scabbarded sword.
Soon it will begin. It is inevitable.
He pulled out the sword, hearing it scrape loudly. It
gleamed.
There was a dent low down on one side.
Putting the sword and scabbard on a chair, he removed
his yellow robe and lay down. Almost immediately, he was
asleep.
69

Chapter Five

When the sun set, rapidly as it does in the tropics, and

the moon slid down in pursuit, though falling behind each
night, the public expression of excitement and unease in the
city died down as the inhabitants disappeared behind
curtaining and shutters.
The sounds of battle in the eastern part of the city had
ceased earlier, while there was still sufficient light, and the
Imperial Guards retreated in reasonably good order, if tired
and bemused, to make the long, slow climb up to the Imperial
Compound. The little traffic that remained on the streets and
avenues at that hour gave right of way, even though it was
not overtly demanded, for a staggered column of one hundred
and fifty soldiers, their draught horses and carts, impeded by
dead and wounded, still had some momentum.
While they did not actually line the streets and
avenues, many citizens contrived to come and look at the
passing column. The most common observation made was
upon the relatively small number of dead and wounded, given
the battered condition of the soldiers, many of whom carried
badly dented shields, broken spears, who lacked helmets and
whose armour was cracked. The fighting had obviously been
as hard as it had sounded, yet it was wondered why there
were so few causalities.
With their attention thus focused on a novel aspect of
the returning force, most citizens avoided having to reflect on
the prospect of the Imperial Army suffering a reverse in the
Imperial capital itself.
70

But the citizens retired for the night, before the sun had
set, with a sense of foreboding. A fundamental change was
taking place in the Empire.
Everyone knew why this was happening, but no one
would speak it out.
Later, in the light of the setting moon, the familiar
tramp of the Lord Hepteidons troop of axemen was heard in
individual streets and avenues. The Lord Hepteidon once
again went to visit the Imperial Keep in order to carry out his
mysterious business.
Tonight, however, there were two departures from the
routine the citizens had become accustomed to. One they
noted for themselves; they remained ignorant of the second.
Early in the night it was noticed that the Lord Hepteidons
troop was not the usual tightly packed column of axemen.
The axemen were there, but they were accompanied now by
other tall barbarians, who carried no shields but who had
gigantic swords slung across their backs.
Later in the night the Lord Hepteidons troop was
heard again, marching iron-shod along the streets, marching
up towards the Imperial Keep. When the citizens peeped out
at this troop, they got a double shock. The soldiers were
black-skinned, and each of them wore yellow armour and
carried yellow shields.
Moreover, those citizens who lived near a bridge
crossing a boundary canal or waterway, saw that the Lord
Hepteidons troop took command of that bridge.
Thus, the Lord Hepteidon put one thousand soldiers on
the thoroughfares of the Imperial City, Ka-Ra, and took
command of all the key crossings and intersections. He also
put two hundred soldiers into the Compound of the
71

Priesthood in the eastern part of the city. In the Imperial

Compound itself he placed three hundred heavily armed
barbarians.
All these soldiers wore yellow armour and carried
yellow shields and sported yellow tufts and plumes in their
helmets. This despite the proclamations made in prominent
places banning the wearing of yellow in a conspicuous and
provocative manner.
Hepteidon stood beside the heavy carriage, painted
yellow, and passed a few final words with Uos.
The secret is, storyteller, that the Empire is only one
man. If we had attacked at the boundary, it is true, then the
Empire would have been a million armed men. But at the
centre, the Empire is only one man.
But the Emperor will not accept your act of rebellion,
Uos said, gazing up with curiosity at the young face,
expressionless in the light of the torches.
I quote, Uos, I only defend myself, Hepteidon
replied smoothly, a light joy suffusing his voice. I have been
tried without leave to plead and defend myself. It is a legal
matter at the moment. So, I go now to plead.
It is still an affront, Hepteidon, and you know it.
Uos spoke without much conviction. The Emperor will
never forget that you offered it.
Hepteidon showed a momentary intensity when he
replied, bending slightly towards Uos:
Please try to understand this, storyteller and man-ofthe-past. There is no going back ever again. The Emperor will
have no time to remember. I do what is necessary.
And if the Emperor refuses to go along with you?
72

Hepteidon stared hard.

He cannot refuse. You will see.
He climbed into the carriage and struck the roof to
signal the driver. As the carriage clattered out through the
gate, Hepteidon leaned out and called back.
Rest now, Uos, my friend. I will return in the
morning.
A troop of mounted spearmen cantered past Uos,
blocking his view of the carriage as they swung out in
procession.
Hepteidon looked down at the debris, including the
wrecked battering ram, that remained from the fighting of the
previous day. He saw the carcass of the Imperial Captains
horse lying to one side, an arrow protruding from its chest.
Leaning back against the quilted upholstery, Hepteidon
sought Hsins eyes in the gloom.
You proved your worth as an archer, good Hsin.
Hsins eyes flickered in the stray reflected light from
the star Ilgem. He sat cross-legged on the seat facing the
Merura, his hands resting palm upward in his lap. His eyes
were level.
Perhaps there was luck in the shot.
Hepteidon heard the banter.
There was not, Hsin, and I know it. You said you
would bring the horse down as an example of your skills And
you did.
I used to practice often, as a form of exercise.
You dont have that kind of muscle, Hsin. I can see
that, as my archers could yesterday. You have an almighty
will, Hsin.
Now Hsin laughed and lowered his head.
73

I have heard of such skills among your people, Hsin,

Hepteidon continued. But that was the first example of it I
have witnessed.
Hsin laughed again, a harsh mocking laugh. Some
day, my Lord Hepteidon, I will fly for you.
Hepteidon had an impulse to look out at the shuttered
houses and shops they were passing. The horses clattered
with an easy pace, in front and behind, in the silence.
Musingly, Hepteidon said, No doubt you will, Hsin. It
seems to me at times that men have powers which are little
used. You can fly by the strength of your will and a poet can
embrace a goddess by the strength of his desire. Are they not
formidable powers, Hsin?
Why do your distinguish powers here, good Lord?
The poet you speak of could fly if he sought to.
And you could embrace a goddess?
Ah, my Lord, my condition makes that impossible.
Why should it? The poet says that such a love is
impossible anyway. To embrace a goddess, he once said, is to
embrace nothing.
The horsehair stuffing of Hsins seat creaked suddenly
in the dark.
Hsin?
Yes, my Lord?
You started. Why?
To be candid, my Lord Hepteidon, what you said
found an unexpected echo in me.
Hepteidon laughed audibly for Hsin to hear. But when
Hsin did not speak, he said:
Will you explain?
74

There is nothing to explain, Hepteidon. The voice

was tense, and became more tense as Hsin continued: You
asked me to think about the idea of a living man. Do you
remember?
Yes. Go on.
The surprising thing was that once I set to reflecting
upon that notion, I received the answer almost at once.
What is it? Hepteidons voice suddenly betrayed
urgency.
If you look within yourself, you would see it too,
though it requires some, ah, sincerity.
I understand you perfectly, Hepteidon said firmly in
the dark. But you tell me, if you will, Hsin.
Put simply, Hepteidon, a living man is like a
bottomless pit. He is like a dark hole in a colourful, animated
world.
Hepteidon sighed through his teeth.
My Lord?
Ah, Hsin. That cannot be the whole truth. Why do we
strive?
I do not know, Hepteidon. Perhaps the dark needs
light.
Uos asked once, in a kind of delirium, why we
pursue the light when it is so hard to find.
I have no answer to that either, good Hepteidon.
Hepteidon resettled himself in his seat. The rocking of
the carriage tended to push him away to one side.
Oh, enough of mysteries, Hsin. Tell me, have you
thought about the other problem? What rights does the
Human Order express in rebellion?
75

The carriage rolled on to the wooden bridge that

connected the eastern poor quarter with the middle class
quarter. The wheels of the carriage ground noisily and the
clatter of hooves was suddenly deafening.
Soldiers of Tan-Sets command saluted him as their
Lord, raising their yellow shields to him. Hepteidon
acknowledged their salutes and then the noise eased as the
carriage entered the more evenly surfaced avenue of the
wealthier quarter.
Hepteidon suddenly saw that the cowering citizens of
the once-proud Imperial capital, the Ka-Ra, were as nothing,
lacking presence in the world, and offering no obstacles to his
progress to the Emperor. The light of Ilgem shone down on
the comfortable houses behind the trees and walls.
It brings them light. But it defeats them with its light.
You require these reflections for your audience with
His Imperial Majesty?
Hepteidon broke his reverie.
No, Hsin. Tonight, it is initially a matter of legality.
Perhaps it is as well. I will present the conclusions of
my thought, Hepteidon, within the context in which I
reflected upon them.
Recently, His Imperial Majesty was vexed by a
request that farmers of a certain region be allowed to return to
their traditional practice of raising grain. Ten generations ago,
the Emperor decreed that they produce oil-seed instead. Now,
the Emperor based his refusal to allow them to revert to their
traditional practice on two arguments. One was that they and
their region generally were richer for the production and
processing of the oil-seed. The second was that they had once
76

rebelled. The Emperors assumption was that they had

rebelled because they were poor.
I pray you have patience with me, Lord Hepteidon, for
the matter is somewhat complex and I am not used to
narratives. In the first place, the Emperor believes that
because of an oversupply of grain in that region of the
Empire at present, these farmers would suffer a sharp drop in
income if they returned to cultivating grain. But the Emperor
uses this fact of present-day conditions to explain a rebellion
which took place long before the Emperor decreed the
changeover from grain to oil-seed, and, moreover, long
before the production of crops was integrated in that region.
It is obvious, of course, the principle by which the
Emperor sought to explain that rebellion. The Sovereign
power is responsible for the direction of the Human Order to
the end of its greater well-being and happiness. Thus, the
Emperor infers that the changeover in crop production was
decreed in order to remove a cause of rebellion which it was
within the competence of the Imperium to remove.
Now, while strictly speaking this is so, I mean that the
Emperor is compelled in his Sovereign power to do all that he
can to provide for the greater well-being and so on of his
subjects, the fact remains that all the great rebellions within
the Empire that I know of did not have their roots in
economic conditions. They all occurred among the subject
peoples of the Empire and all of them, moreover, had only
recently been conquered.
In other words, my good Lord Hepteidon, these
rebellions had their roots in competing claims to sovereignty.
No right of the Human Order as such was invo1ved.
77

But the Imperium by definition cannot acknowledge

any other claim to sovereign power. Therefore, the causes of
these rebellions have always been formulated in terms of
contingent disorders in social organisation which the
Imperium has the power to correct. That the populace rebels
in response to these disorders is always attributed to the
inherent ignorance and irrationality of the populace, who by
definition, to the extent that they lack the appropriate powers,
and rights, could not correct these disorders themselves.
Furthermore, rebellions in the face of such social disorders,
as it were, is seen as proof of the, analogically speaking,
animal nature of the populace that grows impatient and
violent in hunger.
Patience, good Lord, for there is one other element
here. The Emperor, in rejecting the request of these farmers,
always emphasises the fact that there is over-production of
grain in that region and so prices are depressed. But, and this
is especially so in recent years, he has consistently ignored
and refused to investigate claims made by the Duke of the
region that the supplies of grain there are insufficient. And
why is this, my Lord? Because the production of grain has
dropped, and has dropped drastically in recent years. But
production and trade generally have declined during the last
generation, and has declined sharply in the last five years.
Finally, why does the Emperor insist that the region
continue to produce seed-oil? Because the demand remains
high and because certain aristocratic and merchant interests
close to the Emperor wish it to be continued.
Hepteidon shook himself and sat back.
There is much of interest in what you say, Hsin.
But it is not relevant?
78

The carriage suddenly slowed. Hepteidon saw soldiers

approach. Their leader shouted.
Take care in the gardens, my Lord. The retinues of the
aristocrats test us.
Hepteidon nodded his thanks and leaned out and
ordered his escort to fan out around the coach. Then he struck
the roof and sat back.
The noises of the carriage and horses rose in pitch as
they crossed the stone bridge into the quarter of the Merura.
Once onto the gravel of the wide avenue, flanked by trees and
gardens, Hepteidon coughed lightly and said:
Where were we, Hsin? Oh, yes. There is an element of
irrelevance in what you tell me. I will put it like this, and you
can reflect on it here. You tell me of history and what is best
called a politics of maintenance. But you must try to
understand, and even Uos has difficulty grasping this, that
the order of the Empire, as you know it, has already passed
away.
I do not understand you, my Lord Hepteidon. You
asked me to reflect on rebellion and I have done so. Now you
tell me it was effort wasted.
Hsin allowed annoyance enter his voice.
Do not misunderstand me, Hsin. What you said
concerning, as you call it, competing sovereignties interests
me very much. But you do not go far enough in reflecting
upon present conditions. Why, for instance, does production
fall away? What are men now doing with their time, if they
do not spend it on their traditional work? In turning away
from our Imperial order, where do men go to?
Hsins voice was suddenly very low, as though he was
afraid of being overheard:
79

Hepteidon, you speak as if all precedents were of no

value. Do you mean to say that there is a new thing?
Look inside yourself, friend Hsin. Or ask yourself
what men do now?
In the silence, Hepteidon studied the trees beyond the
avenue, lit by the light of one star. The trees, silent and still,
were nothing too.
The Something was up in the Keep. But would it still
be there in the morning?
Unease prickled Hepteidon, but he told himself:
Action always remains possible.
I have one answer, Hepteidon. Men now produce only
for themselves and their families.
Ah, Hsin, the economic answer. Dont you have any
other answer?
In the gloom Hsin suddenly fidgeted.
I cannot order the elements required to reflect upon
your other questions.
Now, now, Hsin. Exercise your great will, my friend.
Hsins reply was sudden and sharp:
I direct my will outwards. That is its power!
And your will can only act on what already exists?
Hepteidon laughed, an edge of disappointment in his voice.
You are ruled by your logic?
He saw Hsin bow down.
Very well, my Lord, since you provoke me. In all men
there is the deep hole I referred to earlier. You seemed then to
accept that formulation. Very well. Now each man
concentrates upon building a gate to seal off that hole, for the
powers of this world are no longer able to do it for him. Hsin
was sharp and bitter, cynical. That is what all this talk about
80

light means. But you, my Lord Astronomer, either because

you cannot build a gate for yourself, or because you see that
it is a fruitless activity, for reasons I dont yet comprehend, or
because you want to build one gate for all men, now
approach the Emperor in the belief that he possesses the last
remaining means to building this Great Gate.
Suddenly, Hsin deflated and looked up at Hepteidon in
such a way that his eyes, like a mock-saints, rose up and up
in their sockets:
My Lord seeks to construct one final gate against the
fear in all mens hearts, a Gate of Death.
To see it mirrored in someone elses words is to see it
objectively, Hepteidon thought abstractly. The Gate of Death:
The An-Akar. An apt phrase.
You are very astute, Hsin.
Hepteidons tone was such that Hsin quailed out of
habit. Hepteidon saw the deep vulnerability in the ex-slavesecretary of the Emperor. Then he saw also the deep courage
of the helpless who had withstood the close proximity of
terrible majesty for long years.
You are a Man of Truth, Hsin. You are the most
valuable man on earth.
Hsin rocked back against the padded upholstery.
Hepteidon, feeling relief at finding such a man, suddenly saw
something else there:
Hsin knows truths that no one ever wants to hear.
He plays with me he is the Mocker: no wonder the
Emperor rid himself of him. Yes he forgot for a moment
that he was a slave. What did the Emperor see then? What
role has he here with me that he might forget and so drive me
to kill him?
81

We are all Men of Truth, Hepteidon.

And Hepteidon saw the thing in Hsin.
And stopped it up in himself, just in time.
I should kill him now.
There was torch light ahead. Tall Brigan axemen came
forward, padding nimbly in their iron-shod boots, crouched,
eyes still and unwavering.
Here?
The gate of the Imperial Compound lay open on the
other side of the ornamented bridge. Beyond, one light
flickered on top of the Keep.
All quiet, soldier? Hepteidon asked, awkwardly
pronouncing the guttural language of the North.
All quiet, Lord.
Resistance?
None, Lord. All are willing to wear the colour once
the Emperor allows it.
Hepteidon looked bleakly over the Brigans helmet at
the shadowed stone of the Compound battlement.
The Emperor cannot do that. He cannot contradict his
Will
Unless...
Be ready, soldier.
The carriage rolled across the bridge and into the
Imperial Compound. In the starlight, Hepteidon saw tall
barbarians on the ramparts, saw them in small patrols in the
Compound itself.
Hepteidon returned to his study of Hsin. The little exslave sat head bowed, staring, it seemed, into the palms of his
hands. He seemed to vibrate. Then, to Hepteidons
superstitious horror, the little figure began to glow gently.
82

When Hsin looked up, Hepteidon saw that light

streamed from his eyes, a gentle lustre of ineffable kindness.
What is it, Hsin? Hepteidon sought a practical level
in ascribing an illness to Hsin.
You asked me once how my will is linked to the
Imperial Will. I will tell you, to satisfy your curiosity and
perhaps to give you useful knowledge. My will is necessarily
linked to that Will. Among those like me, the will must be
linked outwardly to a Commanding Will. It is the only way
my will can operate, though the Commanding Will need not
know this.
My Emperor willed my death, Hepteidon, and now
my will finally comes to will it. I did not realise that this
would happen, though I should have known. Do you wish to
use my mind one last time, my Lord?
The carriage was slowing, turning in a wide arc to
approach the Keep. Barbarian axemen awaited with torches.
No questions, brave Hsin, Hepteidon said hurriedly.
Only one observation. You said once that mans actions
outstrip truth, did you not? In that case, Hsin, it seems to me
that there is no truth, only action.
Hsin smiled benignly, no mockery in his so highly
risen eyes.
Ah, slave, there is One Truth.
Hepteidon leaned forward in anger. The light was
fading from Hsins eyes.
No, understand me, good Hepteidon. You are a slave
till you know that there is One Truth. Farewell.
Seek it in Love.

83

By the time the axemen opened the carriage door, Hsin

had fallen sideways, eyes closed but body still folded in its
meditative posture. The light was gone.
Lay him out on the ground there, Hepteidon said
pointing. Wrap him in a white cloth. He was not one of us.
An axeman led him through the now opened gates of
the Keep.
Tan-Set met him on the stairs. He was agitated.
My Lord Hepteidon, it is good to see you again.
You have done very well, Chief-Commander. It is to
your credit. There is perfection in your execution of the
strategy.
Tan-Set crinkled his eyes with pleasure, then he paused
and said worriedly:
You must see the Lord Chamberlain first, my Lord.
The Emperor has locked himself in his chamber and will see
no one.
Hepteidon suddenly smiled, finding himself back
among affairs and his Holy Operation. He slapped Tan-Sets
shoulder and drew him with him up the stairs.
And that, my dear Tan-Set, is how it should be. We
must request an audience with His Imperial Majesty.
On up they went, the Chief-Commanders boots
clumping beside Hepteidon.
Then the realisation struck him:
Hsin died after I willed his death.
Hepteidons hackles rose, and he was afraid of

84

Chapter Six
The Lord Chamberlain rose when Hepteidon entered
and pushed his cloak back with a practiced flip of his arms.
Ah, my Lord Hepteidon, I expected you. I received
word of your impending visit earlier in the night.
It is good of you to see me, my Lord Chamberlain.
Hepteidon began to feel the oppressive, dead atmosphere of
the room. Heat seemed to radiate from the curtains and
hangings and from the carpeted floor. Im afraid I come on
urgent business again, though this time I have no little
missive for His Imperial Majesty.
So I see, my Lord. The Chamberlains eyes creased
slightly with amusement. You make a more direct statement
of your, how shall I put it? Demand?
Goodness, no, my good Lord Chamberlain,
Hepteidon said quickly, eyeing behind the older Merura
towards the chairs.
Instantly, the Chamberlain turned, his cloak billowing
out, and indicated the chairs:
Wont you sit, my Lord.
Thank you.
When they had seated, the Chamberlain throwing his
cloak back again, Hepteidon continued:
You misunderstand the purpose of my visit this time,
my Lord Chamberlain. It is true that previously I have come
here petitioning for an answer to a report I had submitted for
His Imperial Majestys perusal. However, good Lord
Chamberlain, I come now to plead my case in law.
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The Chamberlain cocked one eyebrow, bent in thought,

nodded, and asked:
What case is this, Lord Hepteidon?
I will explain, Lord Chamberlain. This morning my
house, retainers and myself came under attack by members of
His Imperial Majestys Guards. Now, to my knowledge, no
accusation, no charge, no judgment, no penalty, nor a
warning of the execution of a penalty exist to justify this
mornings attack. Neither am I aware of any word or action
of mine or of my household which could warrant such a
serious measure against me or mine. Therefore, my Lord
Chamberlain, I have come to plead, as a Merura nobleman,
before my Lord, His Imperial Majesty, Van the Twentythird.
The Chamberlain looked down at his knees, his mouth
open, blowing soundlessly.
I see. Perhaps I can here outline the circumstances
which resulted in the police action that occurred this
morning, my Lord Hepteidon. His Imperial Majesty issued a
decree proscribing, I quote from memory, but it is sufficiently
accurate for our present purposes, the wearing of the colour
yellow in a conspicuous or provocative manner, making it a
crime punishable by death. It was His Imperial Majestys
personal judgment that you had committed this crime and he
himself ordered the police action.
But, my Lord Chamberlain, I was not aware up to and
including the time of the attack that the wearing of yellow
was proscribed.
Ah, my Lord Hepteidon, you know the principle
yourself, ignorance is no...
Hepteidon flared with deliberate anger.
86

Sir, I am a Merura nobleman, not a mere subject of the

Imperium! I claim my rights in Merura laws.
The Chamberlain fell back in his seat, a look of
practiced shock on his face.
I beg of you, my Lord. Let me finish. Thank you. The
Chamberlain resettled his cloak and quickly pulled at his
tunic, thinking, thinking all the time. He flicked a glance at
the young nobleman seated beside him, then saw again the
unspeakable. But he made a last attempt, half-heartedly:
The purpose of the police action, my Lord Hepteidon,
was to bring you here to answer charges.
Smoothly, Hepteidon answered as the Chamberlain
expected he would:
Then I am here to answer these charges, my Lord
Chamberlain.
Again, the Chamberlain cocked his eye:
But in the middle of the night, my Lord? No courts sit
in the middle of the night.
Hepteidon appeared to control his temper:
My Lord Chamberlain, in speaking to you I speak to a
kinsman. And as you know, in Merura law I have the right to
seek audience with my Lord at any time, especially in a grave
matter such as this, when my own life is at stake.
Again, I beg moderation of you, my young Lord
Hepteidon, Your Lord happens also to be the Emperor.
I see no conflict.
The Chamberlain bent his head, looking at his stubby
fingers. Again he puffed soundlessly.
He admired the manoeuvre very much. It was
so...original.
87

Finally, he raised his head, gazed at Hepteidon, and

adopted a fatherly tone:
I see your point, my Lord Hepteidon, and I must admit
that it presents a very nice legal problem. Now, I think His
Imperial Majesty, your Lord, as it were, the Chamberlain
smiled indulgently, should be informed of your presence and
of the general appeal you make as a Merura nobleman. But it
might help matters if you could give me some idea of your
plea and, if relevant, your defence.
Hepteidon was brusque:
Certainly, my Lord Chamberlain. You can tell my
Lord that I plead innocent. I do so, tell him, because the law
is irrational and meaningless.
The Chamberlain smiled with sudden delight,
forgetting himself so much as to lean forward:
How so, my Lord?
Does His Imperial Majesty intend executing all of
those in the world with yellow skins? This is only one
instance, Lord Chamberlain, one that comes to mind
immediately. Other points would be, I think, the definition of
words such as conspicuous and provocative the
implication is that those who choose to wear yellow, for
whatever reason, are no more than whores. Is this why they
are to be put to death? However, I think you can see my
argument.
The Chamberlain nodded, rubbing his chin, His eyes
sparkled. Then he rose and swept his cloak off the chair.
Very well, my Lord Hepteidon. I will go to His
Imperial Majesty. Be so kind as to wait here. I will be no
longer than can be helped. Mind, though, I am promising
nothing. We must abide by the Will of our Emperor.
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Hepteidon replied with noncommitting thanks.

The Chamberlain went out by a small door hidden
behind a wall hanging.
Left alone, Hepteidon tried to escape the effect on him
of the oppressive atmosphere of the room. First, he looked
behind the curtain. There was no exit apparent in the
arrangement of the huge blocks of stone that composed the
wall. Then he studied the wall hangings. Most were patterned
with abstract shapes based on the Imperial number, seven,
and the Imperial colour, red. But one, which appeared to be a
very old tapestry, seemed to depict, in colours weakened by
dust and exposure, of all things, the Founding of the Present
Age of the world. The tapestry was small, and hung in a dark
corner away from the focus of the room, perhaps to cover a
worn spot in the geometric hanging or, judging from its
position, to hide a bare spot where once a piece of furniture
stood. The style was unusual, a flowing, crowded scene
which gave prominence to no particular figure or action.
What most surprised Hepteidon, when he hunkered down to
study it, was the absence of a representative of the redskinned Merura. Every other race of man was there,
including, another surprise for him, two tall and handsomely
dressed red-haired white men, who seemed from their
proximity to equally tall yellow skinned men and the brown
skinned race to have been an important people in the world.
Hepteidon wondered at the changes wrought during ten
thousand years.
The gathered figures, he then noticed, seemed to
surround three figures situated off centre to the left. He
deduced this not from the focus of gazes or of bodies, but
from the fact that a significant space had been left clear in
89

front of them. Their skin colour was difficult to determine

and Hepteidon found no clues in their stature, hair or features
to their race. In fact, he discovered that they seemed to be
completely covered in a fine material which seemed to shine.
Each appeared to carry a small dark-coloured box, either
resting on a crooked arm or actually strapped to the arm.
Who were they? Hepteidon wondered.
However, over to the right appeared what seemed to be
representations of the Goddess in some of her aspects. All
except one sat in what appeared to be a kind of boat, painted
white, though Hepteidon couldnt be sure, it might have been
silver. This boat lay on a small rise, without oars, rudder or
mast, with curious symbols painted along its side. Two of the
figures in the boat were very fat, and though clothed in long
loose gowns, their huge hips and breasts were evident. Both
had very long dark hair, while their skin appeared now as
very blotched mixtures of stained brown and faded yellow.
The other three figures in the boat, who sat in a row behind
the fat women, were of differing shapes, sizes and
appearances. One was small, with short pale hair and a faded
pink face, very large eyes and mouth and tiny ears. No shape
could be seen under the once bright gown she wore except
narrow shoulders and extremely long hands. The second
appeared to be very tall, with her hair rolled and tied up,
which, along with the long nose and almost round mouth,
created a very unpleasant impression, The colour of her skin
had completely faded to a muddy brown, which obscured the
detail of her eyes. Surprisingly, she wore no clothes: her
shoulders were broad, her arms very muscular with hands
hidden behind one of the fat women in front, but her breasts
90

were remarkably conical, low on her chest, pointing directly

out and ending in what seemed to be very large nipples.
Altogether, Hepteidon thought, a hideous looking
figure.
The third woman in the rear of the boat was completely
covered by a tight hooded gown and some kind of mask. But
while the hood and mask obscured the shape of her head and
her facial features, the tight gown outlined a full figured
woman, whose hands seemed to support her large breasts.
The last figure stood on the far side of the boat. She
was very old, with the lines on her face still evident in the
faded colour, which seemed originally to have been a pale
blue! She wore a tangle of necklaces, some of which hung
down between her drooping breasts. She seemed in the act of
receiving from or handing to the nearest fat woman a small
indistinguishable object, though the fat woman appeared to
take no notice of her.
Then, when he pulled back and viewed the scene as a
whole, Hepteidon noted that though the sky was blue, a
bright red star hung in the sky at the centre, surrounded by a
ring of five smaller stars, one yellow, one white, and three
green.
Bemused, Hepteidon stood up and then felt a wash of
dizziness. He breathed the stale air of the room but received
no relief. He groped behind curtaining until he found a
shuttered window. The clasp was easily forced and beyond
Hepteidon saw a small balcony.
He breathed in the night air and immediately felt
revived. Leaning on the parapet he discovered the city of KaRa below him, dimly lit by the light of the setting Ilgem.
Here and there throughout the city, in a regular pattern
91

following the crisscross of main thoroughfares and canals, he

saw the torches of his soldiers, They were the only life to be
seen among the huddled arrangements of houses.
But it was a heartening view, nonetheless. The city
descended from the perimeter of the Imperial Compound, the
enclosed mansions of the Merura and the outlying parks,
down through the regular avenues of the middle class, to the,
from here, vast huddle of old houses and winding streets, and
the harbour, ships tied up in rows together at the docks,
others standing out in the bay, while further out lay two of the
large three-masted ships which traded to the eastern
extremities of the Empire.
Other than the torches of the strategic points within the
city, there were no lights.
Lord Hepteidon, Lord Hepteidon.
Hepteidon took one last breath and stepped around the
curtain into the room.
Ah, there you are, my Lord Hepteidon. The
Chamberlain was in the act of throwing his, cloak back. Im
sorry to have kept you waiting...Is that window open? Oh.
His Imperial Majesty gave orders that all windows in the
Keep were to be locked.
Its very stuffy in here, my Lord Chamberlain. I
sought fresh air to revive me.
The Chamberlain pulled his tunic away from his back
with a deft, discreet tug.
Well, perhaps you could close it again, Lord
Hepteidon.
Do you keep them sealed in this heat?
It is His Imperial Majestys instruction,
Hepteidon shrugged and fumbled behind the curtain.
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Thank you, my Lord. Now...

My Lord Chamberlain, before we discuss that other
matter, perhaps you could tell me something.
The Chamberlain bowed automatically: Certainly, my
Lord.
Hepteidon led him over to the tapestry.
Can you explain the significance of this scene, my
Lord Chamberlain? It seems to be very old. I dont
understand any part of it.
The Chamberlain crouched heavily, his cloak folding
gently on to the carpet. He studied the scene for a moment
with an earnest attention, then looked up:
Ive never noticed it before, Lord Hepteidon, though I
have used this room for many years. But as you say, it
appears to be very old and very unusual. He stood up
carefully. Those women there, the ones in the cart, are
extremely revolting specimens.
They seem to be aspects of the Goddess.
The Chamberlains brows shot up.
What a barbaric rendering, then, Lord Hepteidon.
On impulse Hepteidon crouched and tugged at the side
of the tapestry. It lifted easily. The tapestry hung from a thin
rail attached to the wall.
Behind the tapestry was a low door, but with no
obvious way of opening it.
Hepteidon shook his head, a suspicion dawning, How
old is the Keep, my Lord Chamberlain? The older Merura
had gone back to the chairs and was now clutching the sides
of his cloak with evident impatience.
Im afraid I dont know, my Lord, nor can I see the
relevance of the question.
93

Hepteidon crossed to join him:

I think that tapestry has been there for a very long
time, I wonder whats behind that door.
The Chamberlain suddenly looked indulgent, charmed
by the spontaneity of Hepteidons interest and questions.
Im sorry for being so abrupt, Lord Hepteidon. But I
really dont know. An old priest who came to consult the
archives told us over dinner that it was, and I quote, the
Centre and Repository of the Ages. I suppose he meant to
say that it was very old.
Hepteidon looked at the floor, noting that the carpet
also contained a predominance of red. Then he looked the
Chamberlain in the eye:
Do you know, Lord Chamberlain, I wonder what the
real history of man is.
The Chamberlain looked flustered.
Goodness me, my Lord, what a thought to have at a
moment like this. No doubt there will be plenty of time for
you to investigate that in years to come, when you have
retired from affairs. But, now, we must really return to the
business of tonight.
Hepteidon shook his head absently.
If the history of man is different to what we believe,
could the future of man also he different?
I am very happy to tell you, my Lord Hepteidon, that
His Imperial Majesty will see you. There! The Chamberlain
beamed fondly at the abstracted Hepteidon. He was not
aware that you, who has always called yourself simply a
priest in your addresses to His Imperial Majesty, were a
Merura nobleman.
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But my name would have told him that, Hepteidon

said automatically, still thinking about the possibility that the
history of man was not what it commonly was said to be.
Ah, yes, my Lord, there is that. But perhaps His
Imperial Majesty may have assumed,..
Hepteidon suddenly spoke, cutting across the
Chamberlain:
Human history may be different. Can you see the
implication of that?
The Chamberlain gaped at him, completely thrown off.
Our action may be the wrong one.
Hepteidon swung about and looked towards the hidden
window.
I have already taken Ka-Ra! I cant undo that now!
Chamberlain, where are the archives?
The Chamberlain threw up his hands and eyes.
My Lord Hepteidon! You keep His Imperial Majesty
waiting!
Theres no going back now. Still, I should know the
truth.
Hepteidon turned, suddenly heavy and clammy.
Yes, of course. My apologies, Lord Chamberlain. Let
us go, then.
The Chamberlain shook his head emphatically.
Indeed, my young Lord. Please follow me
The Chamberlain pulled the hanging back and ran his
blunt finger tips over a section of the wall. Then he pressed,
and three blocks sighed open to reveal the beginning of a
narrow stair.
Hepteidon stared at the Chamberlains fingers.
Perhaps this is how the other door is to be opened.
95

But the Chamberlain gave a shout and dived up the

stair, holding down his billowing cloak.
Hepteidon followed him up the dark well. He tramped
up step after step with the sinking feeling that everything was
passing beyond his control.
I no longer know what Im doing.
A splay of light told him that the climb was ended.
The Imperial bed chamber was both dazzling after the
more subdued reception room and hotter, with an intolerable
musky scent that produced a kind of undertow of rage in
Hepteidon.
You may go, Kenhartdu, a strong abrupt voice said
from the glare on the far side of the room. I will call if I need
you.
The Chamberlain swept past Hepteidon, muttering:
Now, pull yourself together, young man, and make the
most of this precious opportunity.
The abrupt voice spoke again:
So youre the Lord Hepteidon.
Peering, Hepteidon could make out the shape of a
stocky man, less than average height, for a Merura, who
stood arms akimbo.
I am the Lord Hepteidon, Your Imperial Majesty.
I knew your father, Lord Hepteidon. He served his
Empire well. But you must have been young when he died.
When was that? About, yes, shortly after I became Emperor.
About twenty years ago?
Yes, Your Imperial Majesty. I was one year old. I
never knew my father.
Unfortunate, Lord Hepteidon. But in some cases, you
know, it wouldnt be a bad thing. Not for you, though. Your
96

father was a severe man, admittedly, but he was honourable,

believe me.
Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.
Hepteidon was not accustomed to the light. He saw
that the Emperor stood by a small table, which was clear
except for some fragments of parchment. Just to his right he
saw a larger table, piled with rolls and writing materials, and
beyond it a low stool and a cot.
Hsin. Poor Hsin.
At the far end of the room there was a large bed, piled
high with pillows.
On it lay a black girl, legs spread-eagled, arms by her
side, her eyes, even from that distance, glittering.
The walls were covered by bright hangings and
tapestries, which filled the room with an unsettling clamour,
made worse by what Hepteidon saw was an uneven brilliance
produced by groups of lamps placed haphazardly about.
It reminded him of somewhere else:
Lamlas chamber.
The Emperor stepped forward.
Well now, my Lord Hepteidon. Youve seen the place.
Its pretty simple. Come and drink with me as a kinsman...By
the way, what kin are you to me? I can never find my way
through that labyrinth.
Fourth cousin on my fathers side and third cousin on
my mothers, Your Imperial Majesty.
Ah, that close, Good! Well, come on, kinsman, and
take some wine.
The Emperor walked in front of him down towards the
bed. He stopped at a small table partially hidden by the fold
97

of a heavy curtain. Then he handed back a gold cup and

raised one himself.
Your health, kinsman. Hepteidon raised his cup and
began,
And your health, Your...
Kinsman. If youre my kinsman, then I must he
yours.
And your health, kinsman.
The Emperor drained the cup.
Good! Now, another. Drink up, kinsman, go on. Itll
put you at your ease.
Hepteidon drained his cup, too. While the Emperor
filled them again, Hepteidon glanced over at the girl on the
bed.
Her figure astounded him.
She lay completely motionless, her superb breasts
supported by her arms, pressed in and upwards by her sides.
She stared at him, her eyes frank and unwavering.
Oh, thats Little Ki, kinsman. But dont mind her.
Shes a sullen bitch at the best of times. Here.
Hepteidon withdrew his fascinated attention from the
girl and accepted the cup. Imitating the Emperor, he drained
it with one gulp.
More? Oh, come on, one more wont do any harm.
You have your wits about you, kinsman, that much I do
know.
Hepteidon stole a glance and turned away quickly.
The girl did roll her breasts between her arms.
Your health again, kinsman...Stop that, you little
whore!
98

The Emperor drank and then laughed, pointing down at

Hepteidon.
She affects you, I see, kinsman.
Hepteidon moved sideways, gulping the wine, feeling
heat rise in him, both from his belly and groin. He shook his
head while he drank.
I can see it, man,
The Emperor laughed again.
Hepteidon hastened around the Emperor and placed the
cup on the little table. He tried to shake his erection away.
But it only made matters worse. He was on fire,
gasping. The Emperor struck his shoulder.
Well, go to it, Hepteidon. We cant talk while youre
like that. Oh, here.
He caught Hepteidons gown and pulled him over to
the bed. Bending, he swatted the girls forehead and shouted.
Come on, little cow, you asked for this.
Slowly, emphasising the heaviness of her figure as she
turned around on the soft mattress, Little Ki got on to her
hands and knees.
There you are, Hepteidon. Go to now. Then well
talk.
The Emperor slapped his shoulder again, pushing him
against the bed. But Hepteidon, hot and dumbfounded,
merely looked everywhere except at the crouched girl.
Shy? Well, then, Ill clear off and let you get on with
it. Come over when youre ready.
Hepteidon nodded dazedly.
The Emperor obliged him by lifting his gown up and
up until Hepteidon raised his arms.
99

Naked, he was pushed more firmly onto the bed. The

Emperor slapped his rump and shouted gaily,
At her, boy! And dont spare her. She can take it!
A final shove sent his face slapping against her
buttocks. The girl moved so as to hit him across the nose.
Hepteidon groped for balance and found her hip. In steadying
himself, he pushed her over. Falling, she brought her foot up.
This reminded Hepteidon of something, so he simply dropped
his whole weight on to her legs.
She fell over and shrieked, lashing back with her hand
and catching Hepteidon down the side of his face, making his
right ear ring.
Behind his rising anger, he heard the Emperor laughing
richly. It increased his anger. He rolled up on to the girl and
came face down across her chest, struggling to pin down her
arm. But he felt her free hand pushing under his thighs, trying
to get at his scrotum. Annoyed at the confusion, he exerted
himself so that he came up off the bed, sliding until his feet
touched the floor. Then he grasped her at the hip and neck
and pulled, rolled and dragged her off the bed.
She hit the floor with a solid thump, screaming and
threshing.
Hepteidon jumped back and stared at her with a
stunned look, absently pulling his hair off his face and neck,
aware both of the Emperors continuous laughter and of the
various parts of his body which stung with pain.
The Emperors jeer Come on now, thats only childs
play! made Hepteidon livid again. He bent and in one
concentrated movement hit the girls face, caught her under
the arms, yanked her up, and, turning her, threw her face
down against the edge of the bed, so that her knees rested on
100

the floor and her torso lay over the mattress. Before she could
recover, he dropped down over her, pinioning her shoulders
with his elbows and her bent body with the weight of his own
covering body. When she tried to push back and then wriggle
away to one and then to the other side, he used his hands and
forearms to press her face into the mattress. He ignored her
panic and thrashing and held her thus until she quietened,
Then he, too, relaxed. Immediately she freed her left shoulder
and swung her muscular arm up into his side, rolling her
body up on the momentum. Hepteidon lost his balance and
tipped sideways off her. She continued to roll on her back
along the side of the bed until she was facing him. Then she
dived, her fingers groping on his face for his eyes.
Now it was Hepteidons turn to thrash with his feet and
swing his arms blindly, twisting his head from side to side in
desperation. It was at this moment that he saw the stupid
chaos of it and the real threat to him.
This was planned!
Where there had been anger, there was now a cold,
cruel determination to put an end to the confusion and control
his opponent by any means possible.
First he rolled, using his greater weight, his left arm a
lever, taking the girl with him. Rolling, he let the girl roll on
him, then stopped his own movement with all the strength of
his right arm.
The girl went rolling off him onto the floor,
Lying on his side facing her, he swung his foot up into
her side, sending her skittering on the carpet, squealing with
real pain. He dived after her, grabbed her head and slammed
it into the floor, hearing the dull thud as bone was forced
through the pile of the carpet onto wood. When she continued
101

to struggle blindly, fingers extended to rake him, he raised his

right fist and tried to steady her head.
Then he saw the expression in her eyes and heard in his
memory:
I only defend myself.
The expression was apprehension. She didnt know
what she was doing.
Then Hepteidon lost all interest and sat back on the
floor beside her, staring down into the red patterns in the
carpet, seeing Korkungal sitting beside Sora.
I may have acted wrongly!
He let his head drop and saw that a truth welled up in
him:
Lamla, full of intellectual joy, telling him that he must
abandon himself totally to a Holy Operation;
To tell the men of the world of their doom.
A wave of nausea rose in him. The confusion was
terrible, sinking into his very core.
That is a lie.
Then came a moment when Hepteidon was suddenly
afraid of losing all control, of dissolving into total confusion.
But he could not let that happen.
He felt hands on him, helping him up off the floor.
Then he felt the softness of the mattress under him.
He shook his head: hearing Hsin ask
Is it his child?
and the joke there was huge.
Relieving.
Hepteidon shook his head again and it began to clear.
He grasped the cup he was offered and drank, feeling the cut
of the wine in his throat.
102

The girl sat on the floor, staring at him with wide eyes.
The Emperor bent, smiling richly, and said frankly:
No, good Hepteidon, it wasnt planned. I told you she
was a sullen bitch. Anyway, what would be the point of
trying to harm you? The Empire is yours. I thought you were
one of the legendary brutal Meruras, whose idea of pleasure
is to beat a young girl to death. You are cruel, I can see that,
but I expect some of the priest-stuff has rubbed off. Made
you sentimental, another Merura trait.
Hepteidon gazed at his Emperor, listening to him, but
at the same time trying to clear his head. He tried to
remember something that was buried in a lie.
What was it?
The Emperor gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder
and indicated the girl on the floor.
Want to try again, lad?
Then he looked down and shook his head.
Well, lets talk in that case. The humour might come
back.
He went round behind Hepteidon and the mattress
trembled.
Get up, Little Ki. He didnt hurt you. Stop
pretending.
But Hepteidon saw that she wasnt pretending
anything. The expression in her eyes reminded him of
someone else. Her eyes were wide and bold; a defensive
frankness, he saw. There was also a hint of...
Hsin! The same kind of nervousness! As though in the
presence of a capricious absolute power.
Sit up here, Hepteidon. Well be just as comfortable
here as anywhere else.
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Hepteidon turned slowly, raising his legs onto the bed.

The girl had got up, rubbing the back of her head, her breasts
quivering with each move she made.
What was it he should remember?
Between Korkungal and Lamla?
The girl climbed onto the bed, moving with
unconscious grace despite her heaviness. She sat up on the
pillows, on one buttock, her legs drawn up, and leaned
against the head of the bed. Then she slid down slowly until,
as Hepteidon suddenly realised, she could support her
breasts.
Then the memory came obliquely:
What abnormality in me does the Emperor seek to
exploit?
When the girl had stopped moving, the arm resting on
the pillow crooked so as to support her breasts, the Emperor
said softly at Hepteidons right:
What do you intend doing with me, Lord Hepteidon?

104

Chapter Seven
The girl moved her chin in such a way that Hepteidon
saw two things at once:
The girl was not sullen: These are not ordinary times,
Hsin had said that people had withdrawn into
themselves, that they awaited something. An event.
This girl was merely waiting.
This is how the fear reveals itself.
You keep me in suspense, Hepteidon.
The Emperors tone was one of resignation, a new
awareness of what being in someone elses power meant.
But Hepteidon followed his thoughts turning to look at
his Emperor.
The Emperor waits, too. These are the last days: the
Empire is no longer relevant.
Your Imperial Majesty must excuse me, Hepteidon
said, prevaricating in an obvious way. I am still confused.
I need not have come here!
Perhaps I could take some air at your window.
Hepteidon saw the movement in the Emperors eyes.
All eyes move like that now! He examines some great
power within him, to see whether he should exercise it or not.
All men are Emperors now: That is what freedom is!
But
Of course, Hepteidon. Feel free to do what you
please.
He knows!
Hepteidons mouth fell open and his eyes lit.
You know?
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The Emperors eyes creased and gleamed:

Of course, young man. Do you think I am a fool? But
do you know?
But Hsin?
The Emperor nodded.
I wondered what had become of him. I hope you take
good care of him and treat him well. I learned it from him. He
was courageous but I knew no better then than to get rid of
him. Im glad he had the wit to escape. I didnt think he
would, mind you.
Hepteidon got off the bed.
Hes dead. He died as we arrived here. He willed it.
Going towards the curtains, Hepteidon heard the
Emperor say behind him:
The true slave. Its a pity in some ways.
The clasp was easy to open. Night air rushed in.
Hepteidon breathed deeply.
I dont mind the window being open for a while,
Hepteidon. But I would rather you didnt move the curtain.
Hepteidon pulled the curtain back and asked:
What are you afraid of?
The Emperor was studying him closely.
Why arent you afraid, Hepteidon? Ive been meaning
to ask you that.
Hepteidon took one last breath and came back into the
room feeling much better.
Didnt you read my report? I made it clear there.
Oh, the Emperor said lamely, and began to get off the
bed. Its there on that table near you. Im afraid its torn and
some of its missing. Perhaps you could tell me what its all
about.
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The Emperor got to the table first and began shuffling

the pieces of parchment.
Anyway, that second note of yours confirmed the
insight Hsin had given me. It was brilliant of you, from your
perspective, I mean, to grasp the core of the problem so
nicely. Really brilliant.
Hepteidon looked at him sceptically. Then you tried to
have me killed.
The Emperor laughed.
Cant have everyone getting those ideas.
Does he really know?
What makes you think they dont know already,
Majesty?
The Emperors head shot up.
What do you mean? If they had, they would have
burned me out of here before now, before you came along.
Hepteidon smiled, beginning to feel his equilibrium
return.
Why should they?
The Emperor stopped shuffling the fragments and
looked at Hepteidon with sudden aggression.
Im their ruler. What do you think subjects do when
they rebel? They do precisely what you have done. They get a
force together and come up here.
But thats never happened.
Hasnt it? How do you think my father got on the
throne? Or Pel-Ort the sixty-somethingth, six generations
ago, got that string of Pel-Orts on the throne after him? I
knew once I didnt have a son by the age of thirty-five that I
was open to attack. Seeing the look of amazement on
Hepteidons face, the Emperor turned to him and spoke with
107

uncharacteristic earnestness. Look, Hepteidon. Its the best

way to do it. If some group can get pre-eminence down in the
city and then move in on me, it will prevent civil war when I
die without a successor. I could have lasted another twenty
years, perhaps, while they sorted themselves out.
But what about the principle of continuous
succession.
The Emperor cut the air with his hand.
Oh, nonsense. You could put a donkey up here and it
wouldnt make any difference. Dont you see, Hepteidon, that
the Imperial Will, such as it is, is not settled in the man, but
in the office. Look here, Hepteidon. Get some dummy of a
soldier down there, have him anointed, blessed, and all the
other rubbish. Right? Now call him Emperor and because the
people believe the Emperor has this or that power and right,
and will, if he says Boo, everyone will say Boo.
Cant you see that? The Imperial Will exists only
because people believe it exists.
Now Hepteidon began to shuffle the fragments,
recognising his own handwriting.
Am I being manoeuvred?
Look, Hepteidon. Here you are now. A lot of soldiers
loyal to you controlling the city. Right? Now you come and
say to me, where do you want to live, Van? And I say, a
certain small estate away from all harm. Then you say,
theres a ship thatll take you there tonight. Before I go I
work up a Decree making you the Intended, say from two or
three years ago. In the morning you pull your troops back,
call in the nobility and say, look at this Decree here, Im your
new Emperor, Hepteidon the I forget how many thereve
108

been. Anyone says a word, and you have your men cut him
out...
By the way, what soldiers are you using, Hepteidon?
Its hard to see how youve managed what is in any case
obviously a brilliant manoeuvre.
Hepteidon had sorted out the fragments. Two pieces
were missing. Now he looked up.
Cant you guess?
No. Oh, wait. Ah, yes. Hepteidon the Astronomer!
That expeditionary force! Thats it! Just turned it around and
sailed down here. Yes.
How on earth did you persuade them? I mean, its an
obvious ploy, and we usually guard against it by sending
loyal officers.
Hepteidon was looking at the Emperor with
amazement again.
He doesnt know whats going on in his Empire.
Please read this Majesty.
The Emperor looked down at the creased fragments.
Oh, I cant be bothered now, Hepteidon. But tell me,
why did you want the entire resources of the Empire? Or was
that just a heavy hint?
Hepteidon sighed. It was so ridiculous that he wanted
to laugh, except
am I being manoeuvred?
The Emperor stepped away from the table and looked
closely at Hepteidon.
Well, what are you going to do with me? Im getting
nervous about it, I admit. Are you going to kill me or can I
live out my years in peace somewhere? Look, Im perfectly
willing to make out a Decree making you my son and heir.
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All you have to do is call in the nobles in the morning and

show them that. Then you can do what you like.
Hepteidons head came up and he saw the gleam of
triumph in the Emperors eyes.
Hepteidon deflated.
So it is a manoeuvre.
And he saw how obvious a manoeuvre it was. He tries
to seduce me with the prospect of absolute power, knowing
that there is no such thing.
But what does he hope to gain from it? His life, I
suppose.
Ive decided to put you to death. I couldnt leave you
alive, you know that. Hepteidon said as evenly as he could.
Youd only try to get your throne back.
Now were beyond the point of return.
But Ive been beyond that point since I left the North.
The Emperor hung his head.
I was afraid youd say that, Hepteidon. Youre too
thorough to do otherwise. But, just for the sake of asking, is
there anyway I can change your mind?
Ah! Thats what the memory of Lamla tried to tell me:
The Emperor is trying to seduce me into believing in
absolute power, in the Imperial Will.
But why?
Hepteidon went and sat on the bed. Can you speak,
Little Ki?
Of course I can speak, Lord Hepteidon. She said it
flatly, but seemed to intend no malice.
Good. Shall I spare the Emperors life, Little Ki? You
can decide that.
The Emperor hurried across.
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Thats a bit frivolous, Hepteidon. Whats she know

about this sort of thing?
Hepteidon shrugged.
As much as I do, I think.
Little Ki looked from Hepteidon to the Emperor and
back again. She sighed and absently hoisted her breasts.
Order him to jump out the window, Lord Hepteidon.
But I cant do that. Hes still the Emperor.
But you can force me. With your soldiers, I mean.
Suicide, Hepteidon said, appearing to muse. Thats
in the times, all right. Jump out the window, Your Imperial
Majesty.
When will this farce stop?
But you cant just order me. As you said yourself, Im
still Emperor. No one can tell me what to do.
You can Will yourself to do it, then.
But the Imperial Will cannot extinguish itself.
Hepteidon jumped up.
But you said you were not the Will!
The Emperor backed away, suddenly alarmed. He
looked down.
There is that, Hepteidon. But I dont want to die. He
pointed furiously at Little Ki. Look, that little bitch is
confusing everything. Now, you stay out of this!
Hepteidon threw up his arms and went over to the little
table by the window. He picked up three little cups and a
chased gold jug of wine, and brought them back. Giving them
one each, he filled them, and then proposed a toast:
To His Imperial Majesty, to his long life.
The three of them emptied their cups in one gulp.
What do you mean, long life?
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Hepteidon filled his cup again, then filled the other two
when they were thrust forward. He drank.
Look, he said somewhat thickly. If youll let me, Ill
tell you why I came here. In the first place, I would have been
content with an audience and the Decree I want. But I
suppose I expected you to move against me sooner or later. I
knew then that I would have to do this.
You mean, you dont want the Empire? the Emperor
asked tentatively, looking ready to lose his temper.
No, I dont want to be Emperor! Hepteidon shouted.
Then the Emperor was keenly interested.
Why not?
Because. Theres no such thing as the Empire any
longer.
But Im Emperor.
Then youre the Emperor of nothing. Anyway, you
seem to know nothing of whats happening in your Empire.
Hepteidon poured more wine. The Emperor had sat on
the floor, deep in thought. Then he seemed to decide:
What do you want the Empire for? I mean the
resources of the Empire, though I cant see any difference.
I want to invade the Empire of the Dawn.
The Emperor let his cup fall. It was empty. Slowly, as
though transfixed, he got to his feet and went to the sidetable. He began reading:
Greetings to Your Imperial Majesty, Van the Twentythird, from the priest, Hepteidon, Your Loyal Son:
I take the liberty of drawing to your attention some
observations on the present state of Your Most Blessed
Empire, I remind you of the confusion now spreading through
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your Imperium. It is said that this contagion has its origin in

rumours and prophecies which tell of the destruction of the
world. It is generally
Will be the cause of this
However, it is my opinion
present pandemonium is not the
such, nor is it the star Ilgem,
the heart of every man and
the confusion can be dealt
rumours and prophecies, nor
concerning the star, but by finding the counterbalance to the
fear. Proposals for dealing with this fear should therefore
take account of the special nature of this fear, that it is, in
essence, a fear of a fear of nothing. This formulation may
seem ambiguous, even paradoxical, but it can be more fully
explained in personal audience.
Now the means to counterbalancing this fear is nothing
less than the creation of a wholly new Imperial Order. This
mobilisation of all the
this to be done, an alldiscovered, which will concentrate
upon one single event in the
discovered this purpose. To
to begin the mobilisation
He looked over to the bed.
So this invasion is a gesture, designed to maintain
order in the Empire?
Hepteidon came across to the table. Neither took any
notice of Little Ki padding behind him. No, not in the
Empire. Though the forms do and will remain, you should try
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to understand that it has no future. No one seems to

understand this. Please try to get beyond your fear and see
that.
But what do you mean by future, Hepteidon? Most of
us dont have much of a future at the best of times.
Hepteidon looked at him, puzzled. Then he noticed
Little Ki. He asked her,
Are you afraid?
She shrugged her shoulders, the sympathetic
movement of her breasts dampened by her arms, which
supported them.
Hepteidon bent down close to her face.
What about the Beast, Little Ki?
Her head shrank back.
And the Chosen?
She looked bewildered, lost, confused. Tears appeared
at the corners of her eyes.
But dont tell me, Hepteidon, that you believe that
superstitious nonsense.
Hepteidon swung around.
What do you believe?
Now the Emperor shrugged.
Put like that, Hepteidon, the only answer I can give is,
I dont know. I give orders, and theyre not disobeyed.
Are you afraid?
The Emperor nodded dejectedly.
Of course Im afraid. Who isnt nowadays? His eyes
were candid. Look, why do you think we all lock ourselves
up here? Not just me, but the whole city.
But what about the rest of your Empire? Ask the
Priesthood, or your governors and Dukes.
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I know, I know. I get reports all the time. But, look,

man, enough people stay put so the structure remains.
A bureaucrat!
The Emperor smirked.
What else? Therere five hundred and fifty-four
millions in the Empire. It takes a large administration to
maintain order.
How long do you think theyre going to remain quiet?
Do you know that the star throws a shadow now? What will
happen when it gets closer and bigger? Universal panic.
I want to give some kind of meaning to the Last Days,
cant you see that?
Little Ki had sidled closer, and when he made his last
statement, she slid up beside him and slid under his hanging
left arm.
Hepteidon didnt notice, for the Emperor was asking:
How do you know that the star will come closer?
Thats what the prophecy said would happen.
Oh, prophecies now. Youre supposed to be a priest
and a nobleman.
But cant you see, Hepteidon suddenly shouted, that
everyone believes that the star will destroy the earth? Its just
like your Imperial Will, it has effect because people believe it
has power. In the same way, people believe that Ilgem will
strike the earth, and that has an effect.
The Emperor suddenly noticed Little Ki sheltering
under Hepteidons arm, arms crossed under her breasts. He
pointed to her.
Do you forgive her for almost killing you?

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Hepteidon looked down, began to pull his arm away in

reaction, but when Little Ki snuggled closer, he dropped his
arm around her shoulders again.
Of course I do. She only defended herself. It was a
misunderstanding.
Good. Then you can take her with you when you go.
Whatever for? Hepteidon asked blankly.
Do what you like with her for all that I care. I cant
keep her now, not after she suggested throwing me out the
window. Dont worry about me. Ill send for her sisters.
Theyre about old enough now.
Little Ki smiled.
Anyway, the Emperor continued, I take your point
about the belief and fear. Actually, I see what you mean now
about a, the Emperor consulted Hepteidons petition, Ah,
yes, a fear of a fear of nothing. Thats very good,
Hepteidon. Succinct.
But what can be done? The Priesthood tries to do its
best, pitiable as it is. Do you want me to turn the Armies on
the populace?
No. Theyll panic like everyone else.
Of course. I forgot that. The Emperor looked down at
the petition again. Do you know, Hepteidon? Im beginning
to see what youre after. A sort of large scale piece of theatre,
to take peoples minds off their fear. Is that it?
Putting it crudely. No. There are deeper forces at
work. From what Ive heard and seen, there is some meaning
in whats happening. I mean I heard Kandrigis prophecy in
the Ka-Bil, and I saw the Miracle of the Yellow Sun in the
North, and...
Sort of predestined, are you?
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Hepteidon looked down, suddenly feeling very foolish.

But Little Ki snuggled in to give him encouragement.
Again, rather crudely put.
I dont mean to offend, the Emperor said hurriedly.
But thats how it strikes me, thats all. But, as I say, I see
what you mean. He paused, rubbing his mouth. Tell me,
how do you propose invading the Empire of the Dawn? Its
rather big, too, you know.
Across the newly opened flank in the North. Put the
whole army in, as well as anyone else who wanted to join.
How many million men?
Well, two million soldiers. Id say about another five
million joining up. Food for a year.
How on earth could that be organised?
Symbolism.
What?
The colour yellow.
Ah, I see. The secret of your power.
No, not my power. It simply chimes with what people
seem to need.
But the Decree I issued last night. Remember? I
banned the colour.
I know. Ive thought about that. Say you meant it as a
Decree ordering the death of every member of the Empire of
the Dawn. Theyre yellow mostly. Anyway, youve got to
raise a yellow flag over the Keep. Thats to get things started
in Ka-Ra, at least.
The Emperor regarded him with admiration.
You know, Hepteidon, you really are quite brilliant.
No. Thats not flattery. Its so ingenious. I tell you what. You
remember what I said about having no son and heir. Well,
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look, Ill make you my son and Intended. Hows that? Youll
make a marvellous Emperor. And Itll be appropriate, after
all, the Emperor is called the Child without a Father.
Though Little Ki was nudging him ecstatically,
Hepteidon felt more foolish than he had before.
The Emperor was mad.
Now, youll need titles and everything for this
invasion. Ill make you Grand Duke of the North. In that
way, youll be senior to every one, except me. Ill give you
Orders to take command of all the Armies, for the specific
purpose of invading the other Empire from the north. Then
Decrees covering requisition and things. What else?
The Emperor was beginning to look agitated. Suddenly
he noticed the expression on Hepteidons face.
How else did you think this would be organised? Ill
give you command of the whole administration. Thatll give
them something to do. Look, you should take quarters here
for the first two years of so, while the initial preparations are
made.
Two years? Hepteidon ejaculated.
At the minimum. How long do you think it takes to
send orders around the Empire? Six months, then six months
for the usual stupid questions to come back and then another
six months to send blistering replies telling them to get off
their arses.
Hepteidon looked down at the Emperor.
Thats not the way to do it.
How, then?
How long did it take news of the Miracle of the North
to get round? A month? Thats how its done. One symbol
and one phrase.
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All right. Yellow. I can understand your point. Whats

the phrase?
The An-Akar.
What? The Door of... Is it Shadows? That doesnt
make sense. And the Door of the Invisible makes even less.
No, Hepteidon said irritably, reminded of something
else. The Door of Death, or the Gate of Death.
What? Thats a bit strong, isnt it? No ones going to
fall for that.
Wait and see.
The Emperor thought again, gazing absently at Little
Kis breasts. He beat the side of his nose with a finger.
I can see now. Yes. Im beginning to see what youre
getting at. Suicide. Organised mass suicide.
Crudely put.
Perhaps. But apt. I have my own talents. Right! The
Emperor suddenly looked busy. Lets to it. What sort of
Decree? Oh, I better give you the power to promote people
and give some level of ranking. Come on!
He led them down to Hsins table, Little Ki quickly
getting into step with Hepteidon, so that she remained under
his arm.
The Emperor was scribbling furiously. He looked up
after a while.
There. Youre now the Grand Duke of the North.
Rights to, oh, I forget already, but its a large amount of land.
Youll be provided with administration, housing and that. By
the way, wherell your capital be?
Ka-La-Tlu.
Wheres that?
Its only about a year old. But its the most central.
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Right. Detail that to the administration people wholl

be sent over to you tomorrow.
Again the Emperor scribbled, talking as he did.
Thisll give you command of the Army. Organise it as
you will. He looked up. I trust you, Hepteidon. I really do
believe you dont want to be Emperor.
About to hand him the document, he stopped and said.
Well need copies of these. He jumped up, went across the
room and bellowed at the wall:
Kenhartdu! Get the scribes out of bed and come up
here. Jump!
He came back and started scribbling again.
Dont worry, all thesell be ready before you leave.
He looked up. But itll have to be soon. Its almost dawn.
Youve got to get those soldiers off the streets. He finished
writing. Listen, Hepteidon, Ive worked up the three main
Decrees. Here, this is for the Army, this is for the Duchy,
Grand Duchy, that is, its so long since theres been one, and
this makes you my son.
He stood up and rubbed his brow. He glanced with
surprise at his fingertips, finding them dry, and looked over at
the open window:
Do you know, Hepteidon? Then he paused, his face
lightening. I forgot, youre my son now. He caught
Hepteidon in a massive bear hug, pushing Little Ki away, and
swung him around. Then he held him at arms length and
said, Youd better kiss your father.
Hepteidon looked very closely at the Emperor, then
leaned forward and tentatively kissed one cheek. The
Emperor immediately swung his head and pressed his other
cheek against Hepteidons lips.
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There! Youll get used to it. Ill have to as well.

There was a knock and the Chamberlain came in. He
gaped at the sight of the Emperor with his hands on
Hepteidons shoulders, Hepteidon naked and Little Ki
rubbing herself against him.
Ah, Kenhartdu. Be the first to congratulate us, seeing
that Little Ki hasnt the time. Hepteidons got a new father
and I have a new son.
The Chamberlain gulped once and put on a face,
replying smoothly.
My heartiest congratulations, Your Imperial Majesty,
and you, my Lord Hepteidon.
The Emperor clasped Hepteidons shoulders with one
arm, while Hepteidon could only manage a wooden smile.
Then the Emperor raised the three Decrees into the
Chamberlains vision.
Get copies of these, will you. Quickly.
The Chamberlain grabbed the documents and hurried
out.
Now, is there anything else at the moment? the
Emperor muttered as he stepped away.
Little Ki got under Hepteidons arm again.
Do you know what it is, Hepteidon, my son? The
Emperor beamed. Youre right about this pageant or
whatever. Itll give us all something to do. Ive not been so
busy for over four years.
Quite suddenly, he was serious.
Its awful to contemplate, Hepteidon. But I think you
are right.
He sniffed.
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You do a great thing for mankind, do you know that? I

wont ask why, perhaps some day youll tell me. But, still,
its a good thing in itself.
He ran over and kissed Hepteidon on both cheeks, and
then bent to Little Ki and kissed her cheeks.
Now, you both better get dressed. Oh, do you have
any clothes, Little Ki?
I cant go out of doors in it, she sniffed.
Of course, of course. Here. Wrap yourself in this
cloak. Hepteidonll get you something. Wont you, son?
Hepteidon nodded from the bed and then slid his robe
over his head.
By the time Little Ki had wrapped up, which made her
look even more provocative, the Chamberlain had
reappeared.
Give the originals to Hepteidon, Kenhartdu. And stay
here. Theres a lot to be done.
Hepteidon stared at the pieces of parchment in a
stupor, asking over and over, could it have been done in any
other way?
The more he thought about it, the more he saw that it
couldnt.
The Emperor began to cry as they left, continually
kissing both Hepteidon and Little Ki, explaining that he had
not realised how lonely and cut off he had been.
At the door he said to them both:
I am so sorry about Hsin. Then to Hepteidon, Thank
you for letting me go on being Emperor. After them on the
stairs he called.
Dont forget the soldiers, Hepteidon, my son. We
dont want a scandal.
122

Part Two: Ka-La-Tlu

123

Chapter Eight
Hes actually entered his illusion, despite my warning!
...And he did exactly as he promised, Pol-Chi. He had
the whole bureaucracy put on to the project. Hundreds of
administrators, thousands of clerks and copyists. There were
yellow flags everywhere, everyone wore yellow, ships
coming in carrying nothing but yellow cloth and yellow
dyeing materials. Even the Priesthood went over to yellow,
pretending that yellow had always been the chief colour of
the Goddess. Admittedly, it had been important among some
orders of priests, but they dropped their counter-emphasis on
blue.
And it is amazing how quickly news of the Decrees
spread. I was right there. Rumour doesnt wait for the
bureaucracy to get moving. But the official instructions went
out very quickly afterwards. Suddenly, ships were pouring in
and out of the harbour, officials coming and going all the
time, all dressed in yellow. Father (Pol-Chi winced at
Hepteidons smug tone.) was at them day and night,
marching around the offices shouting at everyone, calling the
higher officials by the score up to the Keep for reports and
conferences.
Anyway, here we are. The whole Imperial Army is
converging on this coast. They estimate that both Central
Armies have finished landing and have moved inland. The
Northwest Army arrived last week, up near the Ka-Sila.
Thats, oh, about three hundred and fifty thousand soldiers
already. Ill have detailed maps for you soon, showing the
planned disposition of the Armies through the various stages.
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You can mark them off as they come. Another thing which is
of interest. These Northern tribesmen are arriving by the
thousand. They bring their food in the form of huge herds of
cattle! And as you might expect, the last Armies to arrive will
be those of the East and Far South. But you should have them
all here within the next two months.
Hepteidon sat back, pressing his fingertips together. On
either side of his upholstered chair stood large tables piled
with parchment rolls. The walls were covered with maps,
drawn by himself. Behind him hung the insignia of his rank,
which also served as the emblem of the Invasion Army, a
gate with seven horizontal bars and eight vertical bars
crossing them, with the inscription La-Tlu, the Light of the
North, across the top, and An-Akar, the Gate of Death,
across the bottom. The background was pale yellow, the gate
and lettering in gold.
He noticed Pol-Chis glance over his head at the
device.
Its good, isnt it? Speaks volumes. The seven bars of
the present Age crossing the eight bars symbolising the
Coming Age. The gate signifies the crossing, as it were, from
one Age to the other. He leaned forward again. You see,
Pol-Chi, it makes sense of whats happening. It tells us that
there will be a future, and that gives meaning to our present.
Pol-Chi nodded doubtfully.
He learned nothing. Hes inventing symbols, not
seeking them.
But why did you have to make me the Lord, oh, the
Grand High Lord of the Invasion Army. Im only a
Commander, Hepteidon. I dont know anything about leading
whole armies.
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Pol-Chi, youre the wisest man I know. Youll do a

good job of it, I know that. I remember how you kept
everyone united on that ship. Anyway, youll have hundreds
of senior officers. Theyll do all the donkey work. Theyre
used to it. Just tell them what to do, then tell them again, and
then blister them. Thats all. You have to learn that rank
creates its own power of command. Wait till you see, when
you go over to your headquarters Ill take you over later
theyll be all over you, saluting and yes-my-lording till
youre sick of it.
It was a great shock in any case, Hepteidon. I thought
that I had effectively retired. I couldnt see what role the
military could have, except a rather futile attempt at
maintaining order when the real panic starts. I had settled
down with my family to work my land. You know that trade
has almost ceased if it wasnt for this Invasion Army, the,
what do you call it? The Force of the An-Akar, the Hu-AnAkar, every ship in the Empire would be rotting in some port
or other. So we have to be self-sufficient in the homeland.
Anyway, when I saw the ship with yellow sails
coming, I knew something was up. Suddenly we had to pack
up and come here. That was fair enough; I understood. But
when the priest read me your letter and all those Decrees and
Orders, and soldiers arrived with new uniforms and insignia,
I thought you had gone too far.
Pol-Chi leaned forward earnestly.
Look, Hepteidon, it cant be the same as before. Too
many things have changed.
Hepteidon tossed his long black hair with the selfregard Pol-Chi had seen in him before, and he suddenly
understood:
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This is how he controls his terror now!

Pol-Chi, you dont have to take it all so much to heart.
For my part, I wanted a second-in-command whom I knew
and trusted. You have all the qualities I need in my Grand
High Lord. Youre conscientious, with a developed sense of
duty. You inspire loyalty because you care about those under
you. Ive seen all this in you. Youll make sure the soldiers
have what they need, youll keep them united. And another
thing, though Im not sure I can express this well. You have a
certain, eh, detachment. It gives you a power of...well, of
objectivity, that I admire very much. In fact, youll keep us
all on the right road. Look, Pol-Chi, Im no fool. I know the
complexities of this whole thing. You just cant land five or
six million men on a barren coast, with arms and supplies,
without a lot of careful management. You see? Its for this
reason that I made you my second-in-command.
Now, just be a good soldier and obey orders, will
you?
Again Hepteidon lay back and again he pressed his
fingertips together, looking down at them with careful regard.
Pol-Chi moved in his chair and looked out the window
at the clear blue sky, signalling that he wanted to think.
Who is he imitating? It must be the Emperor. Then?
Of course! Will! Hes made the whole thing up in his
head. But hes obviously persuaded people to follow it, So it
must chime somewhere.
But why me?
It cant be
He thinks Ill work a miracle here!
He thinks hes working a Holy Operation! Its all
magic!
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He simply doesnt understand anything of what hes

about.
You must think Im some kind of magician,
Hepteidon.
When Hepteidon started and threw him a sharp, sly
glance, Pol-Chi knew he was right. But he covered himself
by making the remark appear rhetorical:
I mean, organisation like this merely requires a lot of
hard work by a lot of experienced men. You should have
appointed the most senior Army Lord. You know therell be a
lot of resentment on their part because some junior officer has
been promoted over their heads.
The ploy seemed to work, for Hepteidon relaxed and
smiled easily.
Oh, that. Dont worry about it. Ive already spoken to
them and explained my action. They appreciate that youll
need time to get used to the responsibility and theyve
promised to help you along. What more can you ask for, PolChi?
Pol-Chi slumped in his chair. Of all the things to tell
them! Theyll simply treat me as a figurehead, the Grand
Dukes best friend, who has to be given a decent cut of the
spoils. Theyll never take me seriously.
Well see, Hepteidon. Itll take time to get to know
them individually and work out some arrangement. But Ill
let you know how things go.
He got up and went to the window, no longer able to
contain his curiosity. He stepped out on to the little wooden
balcony on the top floor of the Central Tower of the Ka-LaTlu. The strange, incredible joy moved in him again as he
saw the beautiful green carpet of grass that stretched across
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the countryside beyond the remains of the forest. When he

had first seen it from the ship, a few days ago further down
the coast, he could not believe his eyes. The Grasslands were
transformed from the harsh desiccation of his last experience
to a lush mantle of the brightest green imaginable, as cool
as...
Green grass is my love,
new life unfurled;
Laid out on me, love,
mantling my world.
Pol-Chi nodded. It was a new thing. Each year this
happens. Each year, like some miracle a reminder of
something:
That everything is always beginning, even as it ends.
But the fort has become a citadel. The last time there
were only ten soldiers of honour at the gate and nothing else.
Now its jammed with men, horses, carts, stacks of weapons,
sacks and jars of food. Its chaotic.
Beyond the stockade, a town of raw wood and dusty
tracks stretched down to a bridge over the river. On the other
side, the sprawling town pushed back the forest, lining the
river down to the beach.
Ships crammed into the little bay, canoes and rafts
unloading around them. All along the coast there were ships
anchored off the beaches. Pol-Chi could see the dots on the
beaches, men working the ships. Inland there were clusters of
buildings at random everywhere, brown scars of track ways
criss-crossing the sward. The air was hazed with the smoke of
thousands of fires.
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Hepteidon came out and stood beside him.

What are you thinking of, my friend?
Oh, the last time I was here. Its hard to believe that
we built this fort and that there was nothing here then.
Hepteidon looked out, squinting against the bright
sunlight.
But its good to see all this activity, Pol-Chi. Its less
lonely and still now.
Perhaps. But it seems chaotic.
They do the best they can under the circumstances,
Pol-Chi. Theres a lot to be done, and done quickly.
He lets himself be led: his whole scheme is only as
deep as a colour and a slogan.
No, Hepteidon. All this should have been organised
from the beginning. Its too haphazard and itll take far
longer than necessary to move all these men and materials.
He just cant see the pointlessness of it all! These
millions merely try to keep ahead of their fear.
Well, Pol-Chi, Im sure youll do what you can to
organise it. Thats what youre here for.
Pol-Chi nodded sceptically and went inside. When
Hepteidon came in, he said to him:
Have you noticed anything, Hepteidon? Very few
wives or families accompany the soldiers. Permission was
granted, seeing that its a long campaign. In fact, except for
the obvious types, civilians generally have shown no interest
in the invasion.
Hepteidon looked at the insignia.
What do you mean by obvious types? We seem to
be getting the right kind of man for the Army.
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Perhaps from the point of view of a war. I mean,

theyre the usual kind, the ones who cant settle into ordinary
life; restless, violent braggards. But this is not a war,
Hepteidon. You intend it to perform a deeper function, dont
you?
Hepteidon smirked with a tight bitterness.
I suppose its because the thing is centred on the
military. So it seems like a war effort. But that was the only
way of organising it. Theres no other structure in the
Empire.
What about the Priesthood? You are, or were, a priest.
Why didnt you go to the Priesthood?
Hepteidon sat down and studied the rug under his feet.
His insignia had been patterned in it.
Its strange, Pol-Chi. I never once considered going to
the Priesthood. But as it is, its totally behind us now.
But what did the Emperor have that the priesthood
lacked? Not organisation, anyway.
You said you didnt trust the Priesthood, didnt you?
You said they refused to recognise the truth. Now, I think
theyre hiding behind us, still avoiding the truth.
What truth, Hepteidon?
You know, Pol-Chi. Dont ask me to explain it. I have
to trust that what I do here conforms to that truth.
I dont understand that. How are you conforming to a
truth which the priesthood avoids?
No, Wait. I didnt say that, Pol-Chi. Im talking
about... about two truths. About what is the case, and about
what we should do in the face of what is the case.
Ah. Im not trying to trip you up, Hepteidon. Believe
me. So you are erecting or establishing a truth, as it were,
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which acts or protects against something present in reality,

the fear.
Hepteidon nodded and gave Pol-Chi a glance of
gratitude.
Yes. Thats it precisely, Pol-Chi. You phrase it rather
brilliantly.
Pol-Chi blinked.
But, Hepteidon, how do you know that you are
handling, as it were, the appropriate truth?
Hepteidon squirmed a little.
Because I trust it. And because it seems to work.
Look, Pol-Chi, I know all this amuses you. Youre lucky, you
dont seem to need a defence against this terrible fear. But
others do. And this symbolism seems to work. I admit that
not everyone in the Empire is directly involved in the
Invasion itself. But they have taken up the symbols. Thats
clear even to you. You probably saw it happen in your
homeland. I know its happening all over the Empire, and
Ive seen it in Ka-Ra and in some of the other cities and
regions on the way here. Everyone wears some yellow, and
many people have placed the An-Akar emblem in their
homes or wear it as an amulet. Now, you cant gainsay that.
Pol-Chi bowed his head to the force of the argument.
He suddenly felt alone.
People did need this particular symbol. Have I been
wrong then to believe in a flux of symbols of symbols as
questions rather than as answers?
But theres something fatalistic about it, Hepteidon. If
you keep the fear at bay like this, at a distance, then youll
never come to understand it.
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Understand? Theres nothing to understand about the

fear! You experience it and you know it exists.
But it can be understood, Hepteidon. It is a kind of
darkness. If you...
Oh, dont start that mystery stuff again, Pol-Chi!
Hepteidon was suddenly defensive and livid. It gets you
there, he thumped his heart, and reduces you to...to a
nothing!
Pol-Chi spoke gently:
Exactly, Hepteidon. Its a darkness or a nothing. But if
you enter it, you can learn to live in it, not simply against it.
Thats how Korkungal did it.
Hepteidons sneer surprised Pol-Chi.
Korkungal wasnt much of an example, was he? He
was a violent maniac, like all these barbarians. And when he
wasnt killing, he was swilling and whoring.
Hepteidon! Pol-Chi shouted in shock. You know
well that he didnt instigate any of those fights. You, for
instance, attacked him with a knife while he was unarmed.
But thats not particularly important...
Not important! Look what he did to me! Hepteidon
stood up in his agitation, looking both violent and vulnerable.
Come on, Hepteidon. You brought that on yourself.
Hepteidon suddenly leaned over Pol-Chi, shouting into
his face:
Thats not the point! Its what he did to me that
counts.
Pol-Chi stopped himself from moving away:
Did you kill him, Hepteidon?
Of course not! Hepteidon spun on his heels and went
to the window, arms folded on his chest.
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It doesnt really matter who killed him, Hepteidon.

Pol-Chi maintained the gentle tone. I think he wanted release
anyway. But the important point about Korkungal is this:
Hepteidon, he was happy. Can you see that? He lived with his
fear and yet he was happy. He was blithely happy.
Hepteidon shook his head:
Its easy to please the simple-minded.
Pol-Chi sighed. Theres no point in pressing him.
He stood up noisily.
Ill go down and see the others, Hepteidon. Im sorry
to have upset you. You do as you think best. Perhaps it does
serve a purpose.
He was weary and indifferent.
Its all going to end in panic and destruction anyway.
The fear is eating them all up.
When he got to the door, Hepteidon called out. Wait,
Pol-Chi.
He was interlacing his fingers repeatedly, looking
down at them.
Look. Im committed to this. I admit its gone over
my head. The sheer scale of the whole thing is
overwhelming. But see it as I see it: Its got to be done.
Perhaps I did expect you to take control of it the way you
took control of that thing on the ship. But if you wont or
cant, then Ill do the best I can.
He is doing something he doesnt even believe in.
Thats why he wants me to run it. He thinks I believe in
magic or mystery.
What does he really desire?
Not death. Not power.
What?
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Hepteidon pulled his fingers apart and hurried to one of

the tables. He took up a small roll and proffered it.
But do me one favour, Pol-Chi. Please. Will you read
this? Ive been working on it for a long time. Ive really
written it for you. I want to explain to you, to someone, what
it is I think I am doing. Will you read it?
But I cannot read, Hepteidon.
Oh, I know that. Its somewhat personal. Get your
priest to read it to you. Or Ill give you a man I trust.
My priest will do it. Hes really a secretary now.
Then youll read it?
Of course. Do you want me to comment on it in
writing?
No, no. But if you feel like discussing it, Id be
grateful.
Pol-Chi accepted the roil. He tipped it open and saw
that the writing was small.
Theres a lot of work in this...
A piercing scream came from the lower floor of the
tower, then a shout, followed by a series of screams.
Hepteidon threw his eyes up and grunted.
Not again!
And ran past Pol-Chi and on to the stairs, shouting as
loudly as he could:
Stop! Stop it!
Pol-Chi paused, tapping the roll against his chest,
debating whether to follow or not. Was it a sign of general
disorder or something more personal?
He was curious.

135

Two floors down, he saw Hepteidon at the far end of a

room, apparently forcing someone against the wall, shouting
with weary anger:
Be quiet, will you! Shut up or I will hit you!
Standing hesitantly in the doorway, he saw a
movement in the corner of his eye and turned.
Uos!
The storytellers appearance shocked Pol-Chi. Where
Hepteidon had seemed a mixture of superficial sophistication
and deep uncertainty, Uos appeared wan and drained. But he
smiled widely when he saw Pol-Chi and hurried over to kiss
him in greeting.
How are you, old man?
The question was a formality and Uos only shrugged
and looked over at Hepteidon, who was now pulling the
figure across the room.
At first, Pol-Chi thought it was a very fat and squat
black-skinned woman, perhaps the wife or concubine of a
soldier. Then he saw that she was very young and possessed a
grotesquely over-developed body, which the loose robe could
not obscure.
Im sorry, Uos. I really did think it wouldnt happen
again after I had spoken to her. But you cant really blame
her. She cant control her jealousy.
Pol-Chi looked from Hepteidon to Uos and back
again. The girl had a surly expression on her strong, broad
face. While she did not try to pull away from Hepteidons
grasp, she stared balefully at Uos.
Even so, Hepteidon. Youll have to do something
positive. She might injure the child. Uos spoke with a
weariness very similar to Hepteidons.
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Yes, I know that, Uos. Ill see what can be done. Oh,
Pol-Chi, this is Little Ki. Hepteidon gave the girl a warning
stare, Quieten down now, will you, and let her go.
She began to rub her wrist, where Hepteidon had held
her, transferring her gaze to Pol-Chi.
Then she ogled him.
Pol-Chi had to control his laughter. Instead, smiling, he
said to Uos:
Whats the problem?
Hepteidon hastened to answer:
Its Soras baby. Little Ki is jealous and tries to steal
him.
Shed better get one of her own, Uos said,
provoking Hepteidon.
Well, you refuse to do it, Uos. So dont bring that
up. He paused. Would you, Pol-Chi?
Would I what?
Give her a child.
Pol-Chi looked at the girl. She was obviously trained to
show herself off.
A Merura pet! He had heard of them. Who is she,
Hepteidon?
My father gave her to me. She wanted me to kill him,
so she had to go. He looked at Uos. I know shes vicious.
But thats the way shes been reared. She only understands
two things. Now he included Pol-Chi in his audience. Shes
been specially bred by the Emperor for her beauty and trained
to respond instantly to any sexual suggestion. Otherwise, she
behaves like an animal sometimes. She tried to kill me the
first time I met her.
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Why didnt you, Uos? Pol-Chi asked. The girl had

also been trained to provoke men.
Hepteidon interjected: Soras put out because shes
here. She doesnt like having a rival. His tone taunted Uos.
You know shes just a troublemaker, Hepteidon. You
ought to give her to the soldiers.
Shes not a whore, Uos!
Pol-Chi saw Uos control his temper. He stopped him
as he made to leave.
Wait, Uos. He turned to Hepteidon. What I dont
understand, Hepteidon, is why you, with all respects, brought
her with you. I mean, is she your concubine, otherwise?
The smirk on the girls face answered him.
My father gave her into my care. I cant just dump
her.
Whats the Emperor playing at?
You say she nearly killed you when you first met.
What happened?
Hepteidon looked at the girl and then around the room.
My father offered her to me. You see, shes very
provocative, and she was just lying on the bed naked. But she
thought I was attacking her, the Emperor pushed me, you see,
and I fell against her. Shes strong and she put up a fight. But
she was only defending herself.
Only defending herself. Yet he wouldnt allow that of
Korkungal.
Is he infatuated or is she a sign of Imperial favour?
So you didnt couple that time?
No. There were more important things to do.
And since then? Oh, I know you can perform with the
best of them.
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Not often, Pol-Chi. Ive an awful lot to do here.

Pol-Chi made to turn away, drawing Uos with him.
Well, then, Hepteidon, do it more often. Shes
obviously used to continuous attention. Shes yours. Youll
have to satisfy her or give her to someone who will.
You? Do you mean you?
Im not interested.
The girl came at Pol-Chi with fingers out, aimed at his
face. Hepteidon lunged but missed.
Pol-Chi took two paces back to throw the girls aim
off, then one forward. His fist cut under her left arm into the
side of her stomach. Her weight carried her on forward, but
the force of the punch drove her off diagonally. Uos
sidestepped in time and she collided with the door jamb. As
she staggered away, Pol-Chi caught her shoulders, spun her
around, and pushed her towards Hepteidon.
Get her under control, Hepteidon! Pol-Chi barked,
panting. If she goes near the baby again, Ill give her to the
soldiers in the interior. Shes trained to cope with that kind of
thing.
Hepteidon steadied the girl and blazed at Pol-Chi:
Dont give me orders, Pol-Chi! Ill do whats best.
Pol-Chi firmed himself, seeing the Merura with his
specially bred black-skinned pet. He struggled between pity
and anger.
Im responsible for policing this region, Grand Duke.
He pointed. She comes under my jurisdiction in public
matters.
He looked at the crushed roll in his left hand, renewed
his grip on it, still panting lightly, and marched down the
stairs.
139

Chapter Nine
Its as well you dont carry a sword, Grand High
Lord, Uos said facetiously behind his back on the stairs.
I only defend myself, Pol-Chi replied, grinning back
up. Anyway, they usually went for Korkungal fully armed.
Indeed. But be careful, poet. Theres a funny bond
between them.
I saw that. Your manner confirmed it, old storyteller.
On the next landing Pol-Chi waited for Uos. The old man
looked brighter now. Pol-Chi threw his arms about him,
deliberately crushing his thin shoulders, feeling happy relief.
Then he asked, with unfeigned concern:
Wheres Sora?
Uos looked at Pol-Chi intently, then smiled hugely.
Ah, Pol-Chi, it is good to see you again. We thought
youd never come. Come on.
Pol-Chi was momentarily surprised by the fact that
they left the tower and went out into the sun, crossing among
men and horses, ducking around carts and pack mules,
avoiding random stacks of equipment and food.
At the entrance to the administrative building Uos
paused and looked back at the high wooden tower.
Its his Keep, like the Imperial Keep in Ka-Ra. When
he forgets himself, he refers to it as his Keep.
Pol-Chi looked up, identifying Hepteidons office at
the top.
Why not, I suppose?
Uos led the way into the gloomy corridor.
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Its just so empty, Pol-Chi. He sits up there and really

does nothing. He gives no orders now because he doesnt
know what orders to give.
Thats why Im here.
Well, Im glad of it. The atmosphere here is empty,
aimless. Left to the Grand Duke, wed all rot on this shore. In
here.
There was sunlight in the room. Sora stood up from the
boy sitting on the floor.
Hello, Sora.
He was surprised by the light in her face. Pol-Chi! At
last!
He pushed Hepteidons roll into his belt, took her
hands in his, looked at her with fascination, then kissed her
hands. Only then did it hit him:
You speak now, Sora?
She has to, because of the child, Uos answered. But
only to me. And now, obviously, to you too.
Uos looked very happy.
Pol-Chi discovered he was embarrassed by the light in
Soras face. He let her hands go and hunkered to the child.
What have you called him, Sora?
He has no name yet.
Why not? Hes about a year old.
Youre to name him, Uos interjected. Thats what
Sora says. Youd better discuss it with her. Ill get you
something to eat.
When Uos left the room, Pol-Chi stood up and
touched Soras cheek.
She seemed just as unsure of herself.
Youve put on weight, Sora.
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And theres grey in your hair, Pol-Chi.

But you look young and fresh, Sora.
Like grass.
And you look commanding, Pol-Chi.
But you are lovely, Sora.
And you are beautiful, poet.
Pol-Chi threw his arms about her, knowing that he had
given way to praise first. She clutched him once and then
released herself.
Why must I name the child?
He looked down at the boy. He had Soras brown skin
and Korkungals big boned features.
Korkungal?
Sora nodded.
Did he not give you a name for him?
He said you would.
Did he, then? Such flattery. Pol-Chi laughed,
flattered. He picked the child up. The little boy regarded him
gravely, looked ready to struggle, then settled down.
He likes you, Pol-Chi.
Perhaps. No clash of wills yet. He pinched the boys
chin. He creased his eyes and his cheeks dimpled. His brown
eyes were serious, though.
Conceived in Darkness, born in the North. Suddenly he
asked Sora:
Is there really a significance here?
Sora merely smiled, her face assuming the remote
allurement of Sora the Silent.
Pol-Chis hackles stirred.
Who am I to name this child?
Who else, poet?
142

You.
Who gave birth to it?
Sora, come back. He entreated her with his eyes.
She mellowed and grew pleasant and rounded.
You will think of a name, Pol-Chi. You will see.
Yes, Sora. He was conceived in Darkness, and born in
the North.
She started and seemed to look into him.
I told you, she said simply and then motioned him to
sit.
Uos brought meat and beer.
What name will it be, poet?
I dont know yet. I havent had much time to think
about it.
Itll be a relief when you do. Calling him boy is not
very close, is it.
Pol-Chi put the child down and took a plate and a
bowl. Sora refused the beer. Uos sat facing them, on the
floor.
Well, now, poet, what have you to tell us? he asked.
A quiet life, Uos. Farming. Suddenly loneliness
swept through him. My wife refused to come, even though
she knew I might never see her again, he found himself
saying, tears pricking his eyes.
Sora and Uos became very quiet; even the child
looked up with a serious concern.
Forgive me, both of you. And you, Pol-Chi added,
noticing the childs gaze. The boy immediately smiled,
showing Korkungals easy humour.
No, no, Uos said quickly. Talk if you want to. We
are your friends, after all.
143

Thank you. I will, as you allow it, because I have

brooded about it.
A soldier is often separated from his wife and family.
Thats part of his life. My wife has always borne the
separations well. This time it was different. I think she knew I
wouldnt come back. She wasnt so much unhappy as, well,
empty, as though she saw that there wouldnt be anything to
come back to. But Ive noticed that among others when the
time came to leave the homeland. Its as though all bonds
between men, and between men and woman, have dissolved.
Its as though love were being sucked out of the world.
Because Uos was nodding slowly, Pol-Chi stopped
talking.
Hepteidon said something like that in Ka-Ra, that all
bonds were broken by the fear, and men were made free.
Free? Pol-Chis mind leaped up. Hepteidon calls the
death of love freedom?
What kind of freedom is it, Uos, which replaces
love?
He felt Sora jerk beside him. He looked at her with
surprise, but she kept her face averted.
But, Pol-Chi, freedom merely means undirected.
Perhaps Hepteidon refers to the condition produced by fear.
How, Uos? Whats the point in being free if you
cant act?
Ha. I see what you are getting at. The Invasion is not
an act of freedom.
No. Its an act of pure will. An act of control, of
slavery. But how could Hepteidon come so close to the truth
and yet act so falsely?
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What truth, poet? Sora asked the question with her

eyes, too.
Why, that this fear makes men aware of their
freedom. Pol-Chi hit his knee with his bowl, slopping beer.
Thats it! Of course. Hepteidon believes that fear makes men
free. Thats why hes reacted as he has. He thinks the fear
forces men into a dangerous situation, that of freedom. No
wonder the Emperor was willing to let him undertake this
invasion. It secures, and strengthens, the domination of a
single symbol in the whole Empire. Any symbol will serve
the Emperors purpose, hence he switched to Hepteidon.
But, look here, Uos. Ive just realised something
else. Why did the Emperor give Hepteidon his little pet? He
accepted Hepteidons symbol as his own, for the Armies still
do the Emperors bidding, not Hepteidons. In its place,
Hepteidon is given the pet to control. Did the Emperor know
of Hepteidons condition? Wait! That wouldnt be necessary.
He would have easily recognised the asceticism in Hepteidon.
So hes given charge of a creature that he cannot possibly
control.
The Emperor has a use for this army that being
collected here! What it is, I dont know, unless it is for an
actual invasion.
Uos stirred.
Thats very interesting, Pol-Chi. But its of no interest
to us. Go on about freedom.
About to speak, Pol-Chi realised what Uos had said
first.
Why is it of no interest to us?
Uos looked at Sora and then said:
Youre not staying here until the end, are you?
145

Pol-Chi looked from Uos to Sora.

No. But what do you mean? The two of you, what
have you planned?
Sora answered:
We want you to come with us, Pol-Chi.
Where?
Where we will be safe. But there is time yet.
Uos spoke with a surprising command:
No more questions, poet. Go on about freedom. That
interests us.
Pol-Chi again felt his hackles move. His sudden
agitation was stilled by Soras hand upon his thigh.
Go on, poet.
Very well. As I said, Hepteidon believes that the fear
forces men to be free. In reaction he seeks a new kind of
slavery. But what he doesnt understand is that this fear is not
new. Admittedly, the presence of the star has brought the fear
to the surface, and perhaps in some it has created a reactive
fear. Perhaps those men who have come to join the Invasion
Army are those. And the women who have come to be with
the soldiers, either as wives, concubines, or whores forgive
me, Sora may also possess this fear. But what the star has
actually done is to overwhelm the everyday preoccupations of
people, so that the one abiding thing in them is exposed. It
comes like a great fear. It seems to be, as I told Hepteidon
earlier, like a Darkness, or as he said, it makes men feel like
nothing.
To be conscious of this fear is to be conscious of the
freedom in you. I dont say your freedom, for Im not sure
it is strictly personal. But that is because of how I react to it.
In Korkungals case, on the other hand, he seems to have
146

discovered this freedom, or as he said, or as you, Uos,

expressed it to him, this Darkness. You expressed it very
aptly for him, you know, when you called him the Darkness
in the Dark. He understood it and it made him very happy
once he understood it.
Thats true, Uos agreed, and Sora nodded beside
him.
And I suppose it was his sense of alienation in the KaBil that opened him up to the fear. And his feeling of being
dead seems to imply that. However, what my wife made me
aware of was that the fear seems to have led to a death of
affection and love. So many soldiers embarked alone, where
usually all the wives and concubines, and children, would
have come down to the ships. It was very, very sad. It was as
though a whole people had died. Perhaps the whole world is
dying in the same way.
Yes. Its a good image, poet, Uos said. And yet the
fear makes them apathetic, doesnt it? They cant seem to get
beyond it.
Perhaps because they seek, like Hepteidon, to place
some symbol in opposition to fear, instead of using symbols
to question it. I should have realised the danger when he said
that man needed no symbols, because he actually reduced
men to symbols when he said that. I thought, as you did then,
Uos. that Hepteidon wanted to turn man into a god. There
might be some truth in that, in your sense of him trying to act
as though he were a god. Here I see the Priesthoods interest
in the An-Akar, because they hope to turn it into a new
religion. After all, religion is the result of mans attempt to
project a divinity into their experience. But I still think there
is some truth in it from another point of view. One of the first
147

insights I had into Hepteidons nature was that he wanted,

desired a new god to protect him from his fear. I think now
that Hepteidon will try to turn some man into that god. If he
cannot find someone, then hell try to turn himself into that
god. Can you see that?
Then there is the belief in the Beast, though Ive not
heard much of that recently. Perhaps the An-Akar has
deflected those thoughts for the moment. But once panic
starts and his symbol collapses, I think Hepteidon will, as a
counterbalance to his desire for his god, project the image,
symbol, of the Beast on to someone. And if most people
behave like him, I cant see how they can get beyond these
fixed ideas which either oppose or project their fear.
Pol-Chi became aware that the sun was setting and the
room darkening.
Im afraid Ive gone on for a long time. But I dont
mean to bore you with my thoughts.
Uos stirred and the effect was to bring him closer to
them. Sora bent down and brought the child up on to her lap.
But go on, poet, Uos said. Its a long time since we
heard you speak. Its very pleasant to listen to you.
Pol-Chi hesitated, wondering what he should say. He
was unwilling to continue talking about Hepteidon and the
Empire. It was fast becoming irrelevant.
Sora had opened the front of her gown and freed her
left breast. The child grasped it gently as he suckled.
Uos waited until Pol-Chi turned back to him before
prompting:
Tell us how you respond to the fear, poet. We could
learn from that.
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How I respond? Pol-Chi chuckled. Im not sure I

know. For a while I followed symbols in poetry. But they
seemed to be confused with something else. Perhaps it was
because of my reaction to fear. I thought of this a lot in the
homeland. Ill speak plainly, Sora. I sought to escape fear
through love. That love was given to me in complex ways.
But I found such love impossible. I thought afterwards it was
because love was just another symbol. I sought to question it,
to exhaust it. When I discovered that love was impossible I
thought I had exhausted it. But only recently did I see that
love appeared to be impossible precisely because it actually
involved the fear. So, I begin to suspect that love is not some
kind of symbol or projection. It might actually be an aspect of
the fear. In that case, rather than retreating from love out of
the fear which it engenders, I should try to learn how to love.
But I have only one clue and it seems to me to he
contradictory. Speaking as a poet, love seems to require what
I call silence. Yet love, on the contrary, seems to inspire the
opposite; it, inspires a flow of language. On another level, it
effects me like death, yet makes me more alive.
But I can see beyond that in theory, as it were. The
two aspects, silence and speech, death and life, must he
combined in some way. But I dont know how to do it. In
other words, love may always be impossible, though that
doesnt prevent me from seeking it. So, while Korkungal
seems to have achieved love by another route, I see myself in
the position of knowing what love is without being able to
experience it. Instead, I feel only pity where I should,
perhaps, feel love.

149

Soras arm brushed Pol-Chis constantly as she held

the child to her breast. The warmth of the contact was
comforting and it allowed him to speak openly.
There was silence when he finished. The room was
dark, except for the flickering lights of the cook fires out in
the fort.
Pol-Chi felt the cool freshness of the evening air. It
filled him with gentle feeling and made him sigh. Then he
felt sad. Then more:
Regretting the passing of the world is very painful. He
felt utterly helpless. Then Uos spoke in the dark at their feet:
Is he asleep?
Sora nodded mutely, looking down at her son.
Then I will take him.
Uos moved cautiously in the gloom, stepping around
their feet. They heard him sigh as he took the child.
Will we keep him in here? he whispered.
Yes, if Pol-Chi does not mind.
I dont mind. Its pleasant to have a child near.
Uos crept away down the room, slightly bent under
the weight of the child. Sora gently nudged him:
Pol-Chi?
Yes, Sora?
Did your wife ever offer you her milk?
No, he replied, surprised at the question.
Will you take mine, then?
Sora!
Do, Pol-Chi. I would like you to.
He felt her turn towards him. Surprise turned sour.

150

I talk of love and I am offered mothering. Am I that

faint-hearted, Sora? He was surprised by his description of
himself. But it struck a chord.
Take it and see, poet.
Sora commanded him!
Gingerly, he knelt down, and searched with his mouth
and hand until he found her hand and was guided to the
nipple. There was cooled milk in a dribble down the front of
her breast, then the warm moistness of her nipple.
The contact with the nipple itself was erotic and his
fingers moved gently to embrace her swollen breast. But she
pressed herself to him and he felt the warm fatty fluid squirt
against his teeth and tongue. He swallowed convulsively,
gagging slightly. Her hand came about his head and held him
steady.
Drink, poet.
He sucked, then suckled properly, working his whole
mouth. The milk flowed obediently to his demand.
And then he simply suckled, seeing himself for an
instant pulling on oars, the hiss of white sound under the ship.
And then he saw what made men calm:
They surrendered.
Pol-Chi surrendered here, feeling the emotion well up
behind his eyes. He expanded, blinded. Aware of the warm,
soft flesh between his lips and pressing his nose, he felt ready
to burst and to go away.
When he withdrew his mouth, he felt Sora draw at him
to remain. But he was panting, full of the heavy fluid, weak
bodied. He relaxed in against her knees, his hands falling on
to her thighs, his head drooping against her belly.
151

He seemed to drift in a doze for a time, then he heard

Uos chuckle softly behind him and say.
She feeds us all, poet, eh?
And he felt a quiver of pleasure flow up his body. Her
hand, he discovered, was resting across his ear and face.
He turned and kissed it with a lingering contentment.
She pressed it to his lips, folding it around his mouth.
Then Uos held his shoulders and drew him, on his
knees, a short distance to a pile of sleeping skins. He helped
him take off his yellow tunic and lie down.
Weak as a baby, he heard as though at a great distance,
a series of disconnected sounds of careful handling of soft
things. Then there was warmth beside him, extending down
his body. His land blindly encountered the warm flesh of a
thigh, the tingle of pubic hair. Then he was covered by a skin
and warmth enveloped him completely.

152

Chapter Ten
The weight was too great, crushing out his breath; then
it was not. It moved on him.
The child lay across Pol-Chi, regarding him with
curiosity. He tried to touch his eyes with two chubby fingers.
When Pol-Chi blinked, the child instead grasped his nose
tightly.
The room was bright, sunlight beginning to show in the
window.
You slept deeply, Pol-Chi.
Uos stood in the doorway, looking as though he, too,
had slept deeply.
Now Pol-Chi grasped the childs nose between two
fingers and pretended to twist it off. The child ducked back,
more puzzled than alarmed. Then it slid down his body, legs
held in readiness for contact with the floor. But when he
reached Pol-Chis gonads, he stopped and stared at them.
Pol-Chi suddenly laughed, his penis lolling and
shivering between his legs, and the child looked up at him,
the same look of quiet curiosity in his eyes.
Soon you will have your own, little man, Uos cried,
laughing too, coming to pick the boy up.
Feet padded in the corridor outside; a voice spoke
insistently and plausibly.
Little Ki darted into the room, twisting to evade Soras
restraining hand.
Uos carried the child deeper into the room, away from
the girl, asking with a lack of welcome:
What do you want now?
153

She stared at the child in his arms for a moment, then

turned and smiled reassuringly at Sora, then faced Pol-Chi,
staring down at him with an expression of control.
The Lord Hepteidon told me to come to you, Lord
Pol-Chi, to say that I am sorry for insulting you yesterday.
Pol-Chi rolled off the skin and stood and faced her
with his hands by his sides. He gave the appearance of being
relaxed.
Thank you, and thank Lord Hepteidon for his
consideration. However, I think you received sufficient
punishment. But be more careful in future, for I promise you
that I will not be so lenient. You may go now. You know that
you are not welcome here.
He went down to the bench and picked up his tunic.
Little Ki spoke behind him.
But, my Lord Pol-Chi, the Lord Hepteidon tells me
that I should be a friend to you. He says that you are his
friend, and it is for this reason that I should make amends and
be friendly.
Uos stood near Pol-Chi, showing the strain of holding
the child. He questioned Pol-Chi with his eyes, but Pol-Chi
said to him when he had drawn his tunic over his head and
down his body:
The child is heavy, Uos. Then in a lower tone: He
will be safe, I promise you.
Uos smiled weakly and put the child down at his feet
with relief. The child immediately turned and looked up at
Pol-Chi.
Facing about, Pol-Chi saw the same questioning look
in Soras eyes, standing behind the stocky girl by the door.
154

But there was also an expression of resignation, a kind of

suspense.
A cross-roads here. Then
Sora believes she has done all she can to...
That is a sensible policy, Little Ki. But it is wise if
such friendship is expressed only in the presence of the Lord
Hepteidon. It would not do to have any misunderstanding.
The straining specious look faded from her face. She
tightened her broad mouth and her shoulders slumped.
Sullen, she seemed grotesque and overburdened.
Imperial pet! Her life is not her own.
The anger he felt turned until he found it directed
against himself in an obscure way.
Who am I but a man bred for fighting?
The desperation he felt along with this realisation was
compounded by Little Kis reply.
But, my Lord Pol-Chi, we are of the same race. There
should be open friendship between us.
Did the Lord Hepteidon also tell you to say this?
Her reply was frank, but it also contained a renewed
appeal: Yes, my Lord Pol-Chi.
She doesnt use her body. Why?
Hepteidon couldnt simply tell her to restrain herself
like this, the training is too deep.
What is she afraid of here?
He glanced around and saw that it couldnt be either
Uos or Sora, for neither presented any resistance to her.
Is she afraid of me? But she has been beaten before,
surely.
She wants something which is so important that it
dominates all the instincts of her upbringing!
155

Tell me, Little Ki, why do you want my friendship?

He saw Sora turn slightly as though to leave. Little Ki
jutted her head in a suppliant way, her large dark eyes gazing
at him without definable expression.
She doesnt know why. But its not based on kinship,
anyway.
I am afraid, my Lord Pol-Chi. She suddenly shook
her head, tears in her eyes. But I dont know why I am
afraid.
He could sense that Uos had moved, trapped as he
was in the corner with the child. Sora showed an instinctive
response to the girls sudden grief, and Pol-Chi saw that she
felt threatened by it.
But how can I be of use to you, girl? Your place is
with the Lord Hepteidon.
That drew her back on herself and she became tearfully
sullen.
You can take me with you, my Lord Pol-Chi.
He saw than that her appeal paralleled Hepteidons
appeal to him. It is through her relationship with Hepteidon
that she seeks friendship.
Does Hepteidon control this manoeuvre?
But I go nowhere, Little Ki. In any case, as I have
said, your place is with the Lord Hepteidon. You should not
seek to cause scandal to him.
She flared impatiently and for the first time she moved
her body, subtly swinging her heavy breasts at him under the
loose gown.
The density of the gesture shook Pol-Chi. He saw the
great power of her.
156

The Emperor seems to give this power to all his

minions.
But you do go somewhere, my Lord. I have felt this.
Hepteidon wants to abandon the An-Akar. Little Ki is
aware of it.
Pol-Chi laughed, breaking through the tension in him.
Where is there to go? We all have our duties here.
She dropped her head, then darted a glance at Uos,
turning slightly so as to include Sora.
You all go somewhere. I know it. But why do you
exclude me? I want to go with you.
There! She makes Hepteidons appeal.
Little Ki. We have our duty to our Emperor. His Will
must be obeyed.
The look of revulsion surprised Pol-Chi.
The Empire? It has passed away. And the Emperor
with it. Dont you know this, Lord Pol-Chi?
Hepteidons words: but will she betray this?
That is treason, Little Ki. I can execute you for saying
what you have said.
But it is what all the soldiers say, my Lord. I merely
repeat it to you.
And what else do they say, Little Ki?
They say that they prepare for a miracle, my Lord PolChi. They say that when everything is in order, there will first
be a great storm, and then there will be a miracle.
How do you know this? You have no contact with the
soldiers, do you?
I hear them speak to my Lord Hepteidon. He
sometimes calls me to give them company and
entertainment.
157

Pol-Chi turned to Uos.

What do you know of this, Uos?
Uos shrugged.
They expect a repetition of the Miracle of the North,
Pol-Chi.
And thats why Ive been brought here!
But why, then, do you want to leave?
My Lord Hepteidon now says that you will not
perform the miracle. He says that you want to go away with
the woman and child. She indicated Sora with a backward
nod of her head. I want to go with you. I will serve you, too.
And what about the Lord Hepteidon, your master?
Little Ki looked around her, from Uos to Sora.
I will tell you alone, my Lord.
Come and whisper it, then.
She came to him and he bent his head. Whispering, she
ensured that her breasts grazed his chest.
He is not my master, for I only serve he who
commands me. If you order me, Lord Pol-Chi, I will kill him
while he sleeps.
Pol-Chi nodded her away and went and sat down,
signalling to Uos to come over.
Little Ki, he said as formally as he could. I must
think about what you have said. I will speak to you again. Go
now.
He saw her clench her fists in disappointment, but he
knew she would obey him, if only because she had
compromised herself. To reinforce his dismissal of her, he
turned to Uos and whispered:
Has she ever approached you in this way, Uos?
No, Pol-Chi. She wants to commit herself to you.
158

Pol-Chi nodded in agreement. Seeing that Little Ki had

left, he beckoned to Sora.
What do you think, Sora? Does she follow
Hepteidons instructions?
In part, Pol-Chi. But not at the end. She is prepared to
turn against him. She gave him a faint and helpless smile. I
think you have conquered her.
Pol-Chi was relieved to hear Sora speak openly.
Ah, Sora, she merely seeks the kind of master she is
used to.
He saw that Sora was reassured by this, though not
convinced.
Then perhaps it is wrong to refuse her.
Uos suddenly spoke.
But he would have to move against Hepteidon.
Pol-Chi laughed.
But I dont want her. She is an Imperial pet. I want
nothing to do with her.
Uos smiled at him.
But she is determined, poet. She will work to convince
you.
So she has seduced you, old man?
She had no need to, Pol-Chi. But she gives nothing
but her body.
Pol-Chi looked at Sora, who leaned towards them, her
hands splayed on her knees to support her.
And are you not jealous of her, Sora? Hepteidon says
you are.
She has many charms, she replied with level
objectivity. Perhaps no man can resist her.
And can any man resist you, Sora?
159

She straightened up, looked at her child, and smiled.

But she covets your child, Sora.
She went and picked up the boy.
Perhaps she wants a child, Pol-Chi.
And you think I should give her one? Hepteidon has
already suggested that.
Why not, Pol-Chi. It would cost you little.
But she is an Imperial pet. I am not an Imperial
breeding bull.
Uos intervened gently.
But we are outside the Empire now, Pol-Chi.
Sora left the room, carrying the child. Pol-Chi stared
after her.
Uos, do you really think I should do that?
Remember, she wishes to betray Hepteidon. She may not be
satisfied to couple for a child and then return to him.
Uos lay back against the wall and gazed up at the
ceiling.
There is that. So perhaps your policy is best. But one
thing, Pol-Chi.
Yes?
Dont think you will offend Sora by accepting the girl.
She knows she has no claims on you.
Pol-Chi laughed and shook his head.
I make my own choices, old man.
Uos dug him in the side.
Indeed, poet. We all say that. Then his tone changed.
I forgot. I have your roll here. The child found it on the
floor.
The roll was badly crumpled. Pol-Chi took it.
160

Hepteidon gave it to me to read. Can you read, Uos?

I cannot.
Do you want me to read it to you?
Yes, if you will. We can talk about it then.
Uos opened the roll and smoothed it on his knees. He
squinted at it, raising it nearer his eyes.
The writing is very small.
Can you read it?
Yes, yes. Listen then, Pol-Chi:
These are the words of Hepteidon, Lord of Bas-Ku,
once a priest, and now Grand Duke of the North and
Instigator of the An-Akar. Know that I am in my heart the
least of men, who does not know what he does.
After the Miracle of the North, in which a red star and
then a yellow star danced in the heavens for the sake of men,
I conceived of a Holy Plan. I claim inspiration for this
conception, though I cannot prove it. This Plan is intended to
save man, and of it I will speak with humility.
It is said that there are two powers in the universe, the
Divine Power and the Power of Man. When there is harmony,
the power of man obeys the Divine power. When there is
discord, the power of man contends against the Divine
power. Such contention always results in the victory of the
Divine power and the destruction of man. This has happened
many times, as I have learned.
Our histories are false, men of the Seventh Age. There
have been many ages, and many different kinds of men have
ruled this world. Each of them has contended with the Divine
power and has been destroyed.
161

Why does man contend with the Gods? The priests say
it is out of pride. But it is not so, and I will tell you why. It is
true that man falls out of harmony with the Gods, but not out
of pride he does it out of fear and ignorance. In their fear,
men forget the true Gods and create instead false Gods.
Then, in his ignorance, he follows the dictates of these false
Gods and thus sets out on the path to destruction.
You ask, why does man reappear on earth after each
destruction? The answer I fear to write. I set it down here
with humility and in trepidation. I ask you not to judge me
hastily for this answer, but to think long and hard on the
answer. I write it because I have found it to be the only
possible answer.
The answer is this: There is but one power in the
world. It is the power of man. Thus, the Divine power is
really the True Power of man. They are the one power. It is
mans fear of this truth which creates all the illusion and
ignorance which beset man and lead him to attempt his own
destruction, for he cannot face the truth and cannot live the
lie.
Now, and I speak with the greatest humility, I act as
though my answer were the true one. I construct the An-Akar
in order to force all men to face the truth. I, too, will face the
truth. Thus, I will know whether I am right or wrong.
I must speak honestly. I do not know how man will
know the truth. I only have faith that he will. I do not even
know how the An-Akar will operate, I can only say that it will
present the truth. In presenting the truth, the An-Akar will
present man to himself in his true form. I do not know what
this form will be, neither can I even faintly conceive it.
162

But I believe that I, and all men, will recognise it once

it is presented to us.
But I must continue to speak honestly, though now it
pains me. Though I appear to write as a madman now, I must
write this also.
In having presented my faith, I immediately doubt it. I
cannot help this. Nor can I explain it. It is as though my
utterance of faith is mirrored, so that I see its reverse in a
reflection.
I do not know if this is the condition of all men, for
some seem blithe in their faith and can face death with ease
and acceptance. And I have seen other men, who are happy
in their scepticism, and laugh joyfully at contradiction and
paradox. And I have seen a few, who dwell in the paradox
without relief.
Know, then, that I enact the An-Akar in faith, and that I
enact it in cynicism.
But know also that I enact it out of necessity, for, true
or false, man must take a hand in his own enlightenment.
For, if we are Gods, then we should know it. If we are not
Gods, then I say that the Gods have failed us. If we are Gods,
then we will gain enlightenment. If we are only men, then we
will spite the failure of our Gods. In either case, man must
attempt the great act. He is either a God, or he is a Man. But
he is not a Slave to be abandoned lightly.
I end by indicating something which my words have
shown me. Man must be free, either as a God or as a Man,
though I confess that I do not know what freedom is.
Reader, think charitably of me, for I seek to speak, not
the truth, but in sincerity. As an ignorant and fearful man, I
can know nothing better than this honesty.
163

Pol-Chi stood up and said,

Thank you, Uos. Now, where can I get food? I have
not eaten since last night.
Uos peered in the brightness of the room, his eyes
watering from the effort of reading.
I will get it for you. Or, if you wish, you could go to
Sora.
When Pol-Chi reached the door, Uos called softly,
Will you come back?
Yes, of course, I must think.
He went down the corridor, nursing his stunned mind,
and found Sora playing with the child in the sun outside the
administration block, oblivious to the confusion around them.
Sora, where can I get food?
He hunkered and watched the child run his fingers
through the dust until Sora returned with a bowl of fruit.
Thank you.
When she remained close to him, he realised that she
wanted his company.
Are you lonely, dear Sora?
She looked around the fort before replying.
No, Pol-Chi, I am not lonely.
And he knew she was. But the loneliness was
unspeakable.
I still try to love you, lovely Sora. Forgive me.
She looked at him without expression.
And I still bring you love, Pol-Chi the poet. You do
not require forgiveness.
Will we leave soon?
Are you afraid, Pol-Chi?
164

I dont know. Perhaps I am weary now. And

confused.
She touched his wrist.
There is no need for weariness, poet. We all sustain
you.
She looked down at the child, her hand still resting on
Pol-Chis wrist.
Sora, May I ask you a painful question? Ill tell you
why afterwards.
She nodded without looking at him.
Did Hepteidon kill Korkungal? Do you know? I
cannot see who else did it.
Sora squeezed his wrist as though trying to maintain
her balance.
It doesnt matter, Pol-Chi. No revenge is needed.
Its not a question of revenge, Sora. If it were I would
challenge him. Its something else. Uos has just read
Hepteidons roll to me. What I cant understand now is why
he had cause to kill him.
Perhaps he had then, Pol-Chi.
Then you do think he did it?
Uos says no one else could have done it. Only
Hepteidon is tall enough to have struck Korkungal as he was
struck.
But the Savages?
Pol-Chi, you know Karusal risked his life to come to
me. You saw his grief.
Why did he do it, Sora? Was he jealous?
She looked at him now. He saw the unease.
So there was jealousy. But why has he not tried to
claim you, Sora?
165

Because I refuse him.

He tried?
In the North and in Ka-Ra.
Why didnt you tell me, Sora? I would have defended
you. Dont you know that?
She nodded.
It is he who wants the child, Pol-Chi.
Pol-Chi stood up, seeing the pieces failing into place.
So he offers the pet to me so that I will no longer be a
rival to him?
Sora straightened up beside him, letting go his wrist as
she did.
You are not a rival, Pol-Chi. You know that.
But he sees me as a rival. But why does he want the
child, Sora?
The Chosen.
Pol-Chi remembered the ambiguity of his father, who
looked for the Chosen without knowing whether he wanted to
kill him or worship him.
You are in danger, Sora. You and the child and
perhaps Uos. Hepteidon himself doesnt know why he wants
you or the child.
There is always danger, Pol-Chi. Hepteidon will not
kill me.
Perhaps. But if anything happened to you or the boy I
will kill Hepteidon.
She looked at him with unusual patience.
Pol-Chi, there has been enough death. I know
Korkungal killed in order to defend himself, but it was still
killing.
166

At the same time, he thought, I cant kill Hepteidon

either.
Suddenly, he saw the pattern gather around him.
There is a Holy Operation!
And he saw his own part clearly:
I take Korkungals p1ace.
He grabbed Soras arm and turned her to face him.
Why did Hepteidon kill Korkungal? Ive got to know.
She smiled at him.
Dont fret, poet. As you said yourself once, there is no
point in fighting the inevitable.
He felt the confusion dissolve the roots of his
understanding. Panic seized him and he knew the fear at last.
The fear rolled in him, cold sweats triggered across his skin,
and he felt his eyes strain as though they would roll up into
his head.
Help me, Sora. You must teach me, Sora. I am afraid.
She turned to the child and said, We must go in,
Griron.
Then she took Pol-Chi by the arm and guided him out
of the sunlight and into the gloom of the corridor.
Pol-Chi thought:
These walls will fade and I will he alone evermore.
He wanted to cry and plead for mercy, to stop the
awful forces in him destroying his own beloved self, the self
he has always treated generously out of respect and
admiration.
He wanted to stop.
But Sora drew him on, down the trembling, dark
corridor, whose walls would dissolve and reveal the awful
darkness outside the world.
167

Let me turn back to the beginning again.

But Sora brought him out of the dark into the light
again and when she let him, he let his legs surrender, and he
fell down until the falling stopped.
He stopped in the deep. He said to himself.
I want to go back. Let me turn back.
The face that materialised in the light (should it not be
the dark?) there said:
Why do you always want, poet? Is it not enough to
have, poet? You have everything you need. Why go out,
poet?
He lamented to the face:
Why cant I go back? Why cant I start again?
And the face said:
Why do you ask questions, poet? What is there to
know?
And he suddenly screamed at the face:
WHY DONT YOU LOVE ME!
And the face...laughed...and laughed again!
And there was a hole there that would not fill. He
wanted to fill the hole. But the hole refused to fill.
Instead:
it mocked him.
It would not turn back ever.
And he said to himself:
I will fill it.
And the face materialised in the light deep (why isnt it
dark?) and said:
What do you will to fill, poet?
He said, spitefully.
I wont tell you.
168

And in refusing to tell the face, the hole went away,

and
he became the hole
and was filled with mockery and dark things.
But the dark things went away when he looked at them
(in the dark?!), and he knew they were gone when he looked
at them even though he couldnt see them in the dark.
Suddenly he said in the dark, to the face he knew was
there:
I will fill the dark.
And the dark was full: yet it was dark and he couldnt
see the filled dark.
Then he knew what must be said at the beginning: he
said to the face he couldnt see in the dark.
I am afraid to say it, because I want to turn back
afterwards, and I know I wont be allowed.
And the face he couldnt see said to him, beside him,
speaking softly in a gay tone:
Who will stop you, poet?
He answered immediately, though it was foolish to say
it:

will.
It was hard to make the dark appear in the dark.
The he
it: There was presence.
And he said, though he despaired of the foolishness:
Being by. No! No! The presence being by.
And the presence being by
And
Being there
No!
Who shouts?
169

O!
And?

And?
?
And?
Its not true, of course. But they will always consider it
like that. It cant be helped, no matter what is done. Dont
ever forget that. No matter what you do.
There! Its not difficult to say. Its only difficult to say.
Yes. All the time. No matter what...
But. Yes, but.
No. Like this.
Then...
Theres no turning back, ever. Say it. You cannot do
two things at once. Ever.
What are you afraid of, anyway?
Im afraid of dying, of course!
Yes. Of course.
Dont mock me, Sora. Dont make me ashamed of
being frightened.
She sat back on her heels, her palms pressed together,
resting between her thighs.
Youre so good, Sora. Do you know that? I think Id
die for you.
He laughed:
Pol-Chi laughed and said:
The conventions of love, Sora. Self-sacrifice.
She smiled.
Do you bring me love, Pol-Chi?
He laughed again.
170

I give you love, Sora. Its yours.

He looked around.
Uos?
The old storyteller came around Sora.
Ah. What do you think of Hepteidons words?
Uos shrugged.
Its hard to approach them, Pol-Chi. He says much,
then he takes it away again.
Pol-Chi nodded.
Apt. What does he really want?
You were right, Pol-Chi, he wants a god. Otherwise
he will destroy everything.
Spite?
Not really. Hes got beyond that. He threatens.
Sora. Do we stay?
If we try to go now, then we will see that we are
prisoners. Hepteidon will see it also.
Then I must go and talk to him now.
Pol-Chi got to his feet. Getting up also, Uos said,
Remember one thing, Pol-Chi. Hepteidon believes
that you are the Chosen. Thats why he has you here. Thats
why, also, he thinks you can work his An-Akar miracle.
Pol-Chi smoothed his tunic, laughing.
Why not? Theres nothing to lose.
To Sora he said, Take care of Griron now, Sora.

171

Chapter Eleven
Hepteidon said, Come in, Pol-Chi. Then: Oh, do you
want her to leave?
Little Ki sat cross-legged on Hepteidons cot, naked,
her body in the bright daylight glistening with oils. Her
nipples were large enough to make her breasts appear
bulbous.
No. I want to talk about her, too. But later.
Pol-Chi turned his back on her and sat down at an
angle to Hepteidon.
Oh, dont treat her like that, Pol-Chi. Shes not simply
brazen. She likes to show herself off. I find it stimulating in a
sublimely erotic way. I mean, I can look at her all day and not
want to couple with her.
Shes an Imperial pet, Hepteidon. I cant help my
reaction.
Oh, I understand now. Youre both black-skinned, I
didnt realise that. Perhaps she should go then. Or at least
dress.
No, no. Dont fuss about it, Hepteidon. Ill get used to
it.
I hope so. You know she likes you, Pol-Chi. Shes
simple-hearted, really. When she likes someone, she shows it.
All the time.
Well talk about that later. What I want to know now
is this. Where is my headquarters staff?
What do you mean?
Where are the senior officers and their staffs?
Oh, those. Theyre with their Armies, moving inland.
172

And whos supervising all the unloading and

forwarding on the beaches?
They know what to do.
You mean each Army is responsible for all its own
equipment and stores?
Yes. It seems the best way.
But the Armies must be integrated at some level,
Hepteidon. As it is, the handling of the supplies is very
wasteful. There are too many soldiers around here doing
nothing.
Theyre waiting for the ships bringing their stuff.
I was afraid of that. Look, give me some idea of
whats going on at present and also details of the
whereabouts of the various Armies. You said you had maps.
Yes. Wait, Ill get them for you. Here you are. This
one shows the final positioning after all the Armies have
arrived. Itll be about two days march inland, spread, as you
can see, across the Grasslands from here north towards the
Ka-Sila. Thats our first objective. Then we all move inland,
across that broad front. Surveys show that the land continues
flat inland for over ten days march.
What are these marks here, on the coast?
Thats the Fleet. It will sail north and then east along
the coast.
Why?
Well, I want to bring the ships with us. Over there,
where the coast turns south at that river, theyll be about
fifteen days march from our final position.
But what do you want the ships for? A sea attack
should take place down the Inland sea.
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No. Theyre not for attack purposes. Dont you

understand, Pol-Chi, therell be no invasion.
Why not?
Oh, whats the point in attacking the Empire of the
Dawn?
Then why bring the ships around?
What would you do, then?
From what point?
Oh, from now, Pol-Chi, if you must.
I dont know. I dont have enough information yet.
First, anyway, I want some clerical staff and lower rank
administrators. And scribes. I want two military scribes for
my own use. And I want them now, Hepteidon. I want them
outside the door when I leave.
Ill see to that when youve finished. Wait, Ill make
notes. It really is a pity you cant read or write, Pol-Chi.
Everyone should be taught to read and write.
Well, its too late now, Hepteidon. Anyway, I didnt
ask for this job. You could easily have got yourself a literate
Grand High Lord.
Yes, yes. But what else do you want now?
I want the administration block. And I want use of one
of the dormitory blocks.
But, Pol-Chi, theyre already full.
Dont worry, most of them will be on their way inland
early tomorrow morning.
Is that wise? I mean, the work is getting done.
Everything stops tonight for two days, Hepteidon. I
want to find out whats lying around and where. Look, Im
going to need extra scribes for that. I want yours.
What else, Pol-Chi?
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I want all your couriers, mounted and runners. Ill

give them back when Ive finished with them.
And?
Oh, yes. I want an order giving me control of the fort
and jurisdiction of the town below. The place is in a mess.
Itll have to be sorted out immediately. Therell have to be a
second gate in the fort. I dont know where yet.
Pol-Chi!
Am I in charge?
Yes, of course.
Right then. Give me separate orders for the fort and
the town. In ten days I want everything in order.
Is there anything else?
Not that I can think of at the moment. Ill have to
work out the organisation of a General Command and get the
staff I want together.
Ill get the scribes. Two?
And while youre down there, get a senior man to
organise the clearing out of the rest of the administration
block. And I want...the dormitory block straight across from
it. Oh, and have the intervening area cleared as well. No
traffic.
After Hepteidon left with his notes, Pol-Chi settled
back to enjoy the sunlight and the blue sky.
The shouts of command began to waft up from below,
faint, easily lost in the spring brightness.
Have you finished your thoughts, my Lord Pol-Chi?
Pol-Chi turned around in his chair and leaned his arm
on its back.
I have, Little Ki.
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She leaned forward. Her breasts trembled with every

move.
What have you decided, my Lord?
We had better wait until the Lord Hepteidon returns.
But, tell me, Little Ki, do you want a child of your own?
She looked at him in surprise.
I cannot have a child, my Lord. When the Emperor
decided to keep me as his companion, they ensured that I
would have no children.
I see. And what of those who do not become
companions of Emperors?
Some are bought by members of the nobility. Others
breed on the estate. Others are given in marriage or
concubinage to soldiers. It depends upon their beauty.
And the most beautiful goes to the Emperor himself?
That is so, my Lord Pol-Chi.
So you were an important gift to the Lord Hepteidon?
The Emperor would not let you go lightly.
Ah, I compromised myself with the Emperor. When
my Lord Hepteidon asked me if the Emperor should die, I
suggested he be ordered to commit suicide. It seemed a
lighthearted game at the time, but when the Emperor
remained Emperor, it was no longer possible for me to stay
with him. I am lucky he did not kill me.
And the Lord Hepteidon is your complete master
now?
According to the Imperial law he is, my Lord.
And according to you?
I would have you as my master, my Lord.
Why, Little Ki? Its important for me to know.
You command me. Surely you know that, my Lord.
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It was not my intention to command you, Little Ki. I

see you as my Lord Hepteidons companion.
If you say so, my Lord Pol-Chi, it is so. My wish is of
no importance.
And yet you shake your body at me, little Ki.
My command of my body is not always complete, my
Lord.
Oh, nicely put, Little Ki. You are not the barbarian
they say you are.
I am not an animal merely because I am treated as
one. Nor am I a statue because I am treated as one, My Lord
Pol-Chi.
You have rebellion in you, Little Ki. Dont let the
Lord Hepteidon hear that.
I grow tired of mocking, my Lord Pol-Chi.
And perhaps you should, though I am not to be quoted
on this.
Yes, my Lord.
Will, you answer some more questions for me with
the same candour, Little Ki? They are also important. Im
afraid theres a lot of misunderstandings.
Command me, my Lord Pol-Chi.
Good. What are your feelings for the mother of the
child, Sora?
I do not know her well, my Lord. For a long time, it
seems to me, she has been the only woman in a group of men.
She was used to their favours. Perhaps she sees me as a rival.
I do not see her as a rival, though perhaps I act as one. I am
not used to the company or rivalry of other women.
Because you were the Emperors pet?
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Put so, yes. But, my Lord, being a pet, as you call it,
was not my choice.
But it was far better than any other alternative you
might have to suffer?
Yes. But there was no choice.
Do any of us have choice?
You do, my Lord.
How so, Little Ki?
You can choose to reject me.
Ah, but that appears as a choice only to you. For my
part, I have no choice.
Is the Lord Hepteidon an obstacle?
Not the Lord Hepteidon, Little Ki.
The woman, Sora, then, I thought that this morning.
You showed concern for her feelings.
I didnt know her feeling then. I merely assumed what
her feelings were.
Is she an obstacle now?
Ah, Little Ki. You press hard. Why are you so eager
to be possessed?
It is all Im used to.
So it is. I had forgotten. But a question.
Yes, My Lord?
What are your feelings for the child? You have caused
distress there.
My Lord Pol-Chi, a companion thinks for her master.
Sometimes she acts for him.
So Ive noticed.
Was it so obvious, my Lord?
To some extent, Little Ki. To some extent only.
That is good, my Lord. It is a difficult game to learn.
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I believe you. But you say, Little Ki, that you acted in
your masters interest.
Yes, my Lord. The little boy I like. He is serious and
curious. But my Lord Hepteidon has a deeper feeling for the
boy.
Do you know what they are, Little Ki?
You know my Lords condition. He wants a son.
Is that all?
My Lord, I am not trained to understand mysteries.
Ah. Let me put it this way, Little Ki. Does the Lord
Hepteidon also desire the mother of the child, Sora?
I think so, my Lord. But it is not a simple desire.
How so, Little Ki?
It is hard to explain. He is in awe of her, yet he wants
to command her. But, my Lord, he neither loves her nor
desires her as a woman.
What of Korkungal, the father of the child? You have
heard of him?
Yes, my Lord. Again, there is complexity. My Lord
Hepteidon was not jealous of the barbarian, which is
surprising; yet perhaps it is not. But I feel it is difficult to
describe it I feel, that Korkungal died to cover a deeper
wrong. Can you understand that?
Yes, Little Ki. You express it very well. Ive
suspected the same, but I cant discover the deeper wrong
either. But now tell me of Uos, Little Ki.
Uos needs warmth, my Lord Pol-Chi. But he is witty
and energetic.
How well you put that too, Little Ki. Uos needs
warmth. You are perceptive.
I thank you for allowing me to be, my Lord.
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And charming when you wish, Little Ki.

At all times for you, my Lord.
Perhaps your charm will seduce me, Little Ki. You
have a gentle wit. But, tell me, why do you allow me to
command you?
Because you take away my fear, my Lord. And
because you treat me with respect.
Respect! Little Ki, I beat you yesterday and today I
called you an Imperial pet.
But, my Lord, yesterday you defended yourself. Once
my Lord Hepteidon spared me because he knew I defended
myself. Today you spoke the truth of me. Is that not a mark
of respect?
Nice. Little Ki, who taught you your reasoning?
I listened to the Emperor, and to his secretary-slave,
Hsin. He was very wise and subtle. So, I had good teachers,
though they didnt know It.
Little Ki, you have more talents than are apparent.
They are all at your disposal, my Lord Pol-Chi.
We will become friends, Little Ki. You are good
company. Ah. I hear Hepteidon on the stairs. Back to work,
little statue.
Hepteidon looked dusty and hot. He paused in the
room, eyes narrow, sniffing the air. He looked at Pol-Chi,
then at Little Ki.
Why do I have to do all the running round, Pol-Chi?
Thats supposed to be your job.
They dont know me and they know you. But after a
while, theyll know of me.

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Yes. I suppose thats best. But Im hot. Organising

people is an impossible task, Pol-Chi. They seem almost
perverse in their misunderstanding of instructions.
You have to see it their way. You must speak their
language, Hepteidon.
Theres that, too, I suppose. But let us have a drink.
Theres some wine here. Ah. Good.
They drank.
Now, Pol-Chi. There are four good men. Two scribes
that you asked for. Theyre waiting below. Then there is a
map specialist. I know you think maps are easy to work on,
but theyre not. I advise you to take this man. Ive told him.
There is another man, but hes down in the harbour today. He
has a perfect memory. Take him around with you, Pol-Chi.
Itll save a lot of time. Just tell him what you like,
inventories, notes, reminders hell remember them all.
Thats thoughtful of you, Hepteidon. Hell come in
useful. I had planned to take some scribes and get them to jot
down things. But if this man is as good as you say, then that
saves a lot of time and trouble.
Now, here are the orders giving you charge of the fort
and town. Theyre sealed, as you can see. Im having copies
proclaimed here and below this evening. Everyone will have
heard of you by tonight. Wont do them any harm to be
apprehensive of you.
There are twenty couriers on hand. They have their
quarters on the other side of the fort. The soldier on the door
below will show you. Oh, about Uos and Sora. Ive given
instructions that theyre not to be disturbed. But what about
proper accommodation, Pol-Chi? Surely youre not going to
lodge in that dormitory?
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I havent given it much thought, Hepteidon. Sora,

Uos and Griron seem settled in over there. What have you in
mind?
Is that what she called him? Griron. Unusual.
Obviously from her own people.
I dont know. Perhaps it is.
Hes a fine lad, Pol-Chi. Its a pity Korkungal didnt
live to see him. I take it that Korkungal is the father. Yes?
Good. I thought as much. Uos and Sora are so good with
him. Every time I see him, he is either in Soras arms or
Uos. Perhaps a child should be given that kind of attention,
especially when his father is dead.
Your father died when you were young, didnt he?
Yes, I never knew him. Perhaps thats why I take such
an interest in Griron. Sympathy. A child does need fatherly
affection and guidance. Youre a father yourself, Pol-Chi.
Dont you agree?
Of course, Hepteidon. But you surprise me. I hadnt
thought of you as a doting father.
Thats only because Ive had no occasion to show it,
Pol-Chi. But we all rally round Sora and Griron. They need
us.
Indeed. But I agree with you, the presence of a child is
a great pleasure. But tell me, Hepteidon, do you have any
suggestions about accommodation?
Actually, I have. I dont know if youll agree, but you
are free to organise it for yourself, of course. I had thought of
suggesting that we turn this tower into living quarters. We
can put the secretariat elsewhere, perhaps in the
administrative block. Yes. The difficulty is the child. If it fell
down the stairs, I couldnt forgive myself. But there is
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another building. The priests have moved out of the original

temple. Theyre finishing a stone structure over on the cape
itself and have begun to hold their services there, though not
many go, it seems. I thought we might use that building. Its
in the back of the fort, in a relatively quiet part, and its not
too far from here or from your offices. The advantage is that
the living quarters are all on the ground floor, so no problem
for Griron. As well as that, the old temple itself could be used
as an assembly room, for conferences and the like. What do
you think?
It sounds a good idea, Hepteidon. But how soon can
we move in? I mean, we wont be more than another three
months here. In fact, I may have to go forward sooner than
that.
We can move in now. Today. Ill send men over to
help Uos and Sora. And weve only got the contents of two
rooms here. There are six rooms over there. One is fitted as a
refectory, so that makes five private rooms. We each can
have a private room, with Sora taking care of Griron.
Yes, I think its a good idea. But youll have to ask
Sora and Uos. They might prefer to stay where they are.
Oh, Ive already discussed it with them. A few days
before you arrived. Sora seemed to be willing enough, but
Uos was a bit awkward. Thats why I waited until you
arrived. You know what hes like once he gets settled in
somewhere. I expect its his age. Anyway, if you, and Sora,
agree, I cant see Uos remaining obstinate. Look, theres a
Captain waiting outside. Hes going to supervise the move.
Ill tell him to speak to Uos, to tell him that you agree. Hell
agree then.
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Pol-Chi, lets have a drink on that. Its good that were

all together again. Do you remember how on the ship we all
ended up living in your room? I know it was crowded, but it
was so warm and lively. Your health...
You know, I wont be surprised to see Korkungal
slouched in some corner this evening, staring dreamily into
space as he used to do.
Ah, Korkungal. We do keep his memory, dont we,
Hepteidon?
But he was our friend.
Who killed him, do you think, Hepteidon?
I still say it was one of the Savages, Pol-Chi. No. Not
their leader, the one who came into camp wailing and tearing
his clothes. It was obviously not him, but perhaps one of his
followers. They were a shifty lot. I mean, they stole some
weapons and food before they left.
They didnt steal them, Hepteidon. My father and I
gave them gifts.
Oh, I didnt know that. That explains why Tan-Set
took no action when I reported to him.
They needed those weapons, Hepteidon. They have a
hard life here. Anyway, they were given in Korkungals
memory. We had to prove that we were his friends, otherwise
they would have made trouble. You see, they thought we had
killed him. And I dont blame Karusal for believing that.
After all, he saw Tel-Shan threaten him on shore that night.
They knew as well as we did that whoever killed Korkungal
had to be tall and fairly strong, and able to handle a sword.
A sword, Pol-Chi? I thought it was an axe.
No, Hepteidon. An axe would not have made such a
clean cut. It would have crushed the bones. It was a sword,
184

wielded with both hands. You saw yourself what a powerful

weapon it can be when Korkungal defended himself against
Tel-Shan.
I see. Its a mystery, Pol-Chi. I suppose well never
know now who killed him.
But everyone says you did, Hepteidon. You had
declared your intention clearly enough. You are tall and
strong, and you can handle a sword. Its obviously your
favourite weapon you carry Korkungals all the time.
Sora gave it to me. I carry it in his memory, Pol-Chi.
You did kill Korkungal, didnt you. Look, its not
particularly important anymore. Sora doesnt ask for revenge,
shes made that clear. What I want to know is this, why did
you do it? I mean, the real reason. It wasnt just jealousy or
some idea of justice.
Look at me, Pol-Chi. I tell you I did not kill
Korkungal. Perhaps I am the most likely suspect, but isnt
that also a good reason why I didnt do it. Yes, I admit that
after he had attacked me I wanted to take revenge, but our
common experiences on the ship really did bring me to like
him. Now, will you please believe that, Pol-Chi?
Then who wears his head, Hepteidon?
What do you mean?
Didnt Uos tell you? Apparently Karusals old priest
dreamed of someone else wearing Korkungals head. Thats
how he put it.
Pol-Chi, and I dont mean to accuse you, but if anyone
wears his head, as you so picturesquely put it, then you do.
Do I? What an Insight, Hepteidon. But I wonder if
someone else wants it. However, there is another odd thing
about his death. Can you imagine a trained fighter like
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Korkungal, who moreover had spent most of his life in that

sort of country, letting himself be caught unawares like that?
Its almost as though Korkungal knew his time had come and
let himself be killed. Now what do you think of that?
Thats incredible, Pol-Chi. Why should Korkungal
have wanted to die? He had everything to live for.
Well, there you are, Hepteidon. I admit, it really is
odd. Its almost as though someone had performed a service
for him. Or as though there was a kind of inevitability to it.
Anyway, I had better go now. Itll be dark soon and then
nothing will be done.
Im afraid they give up before that now, Pol-Chi.
Havent you noticed that?
Ive become used to this complete shutdown in the
evening.
No, Pol-Chi. Theres more now. The star, Ilgem, is so
bright now that it can be seen rising in the evening, before the
sun sets. The soldiers go indoors before it appears.
So bright already? How much longer do we have,
Hepteidon?
Im not sure. I thought about a year. But now, given
how rapidly its light is increasing, Id say less. About eight or
nine months.
So soon? Well, its long enough coming.
Will the An-Akar be ready, do you think?
If everything can be organised without too many
delays, then I think it will. Give me about four or five
months.
Are you reasonably sure, Pol-Chi? My father wants to
come and see the An-Akar for himself. I should let him know
very soon when he is to come.
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Yes, Im reasonably sure of that date. You can tell

him to arrive here in late summer. The journey across the
continent from here should be relatively easy by then. Well
have staging posts and decent roads by then.
Good, Im glad to hear that. And Im also glad youve
come to take charge, Pol-Chi. You know I have treat faith in
you.
Thank you. Now Ill go. Oh, wait. One last thing.
Yes?
Little Ki. Little Ki, will you come over. Oh, come as
you are, I dont mind. Look, Hepteidon, I dont really know
what you have in mind for the girl. Now, I believe she cannot
have children, but theres no point in worrying about that
now, is there? Its too late. This whole idea of curing her
behaviour by giving her a child is beside the point. The
important thing is this, Hepteidon, and I say it in front of
Little Ki, you will really have to control your urge to be
possessive. If were going to form one group, as we did
before, then Little Ki has to become a free member of the
group. This master-slave business might have been all very
well in the Empire, but you know as well as I do, and as
Little Ki does, that the Empire is finished and that its laws no
longer operate. Therefore, you cant really claim her as your
slave.
So, what I suggest is this. In our new quarters, Little
Ki will have her room like the rest of us. Now, she does as
she wishes, with whom she wishes, and only if she wishes.
You cant expect her to sit around here all day like a statue if
she prefers to sit in the sun or be with Uos or Sora or
anything like that. What do you say to that?
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I agree, Pol-Chi. I keep her here close to me mostly

because shes been my responsibility. The difficulties shes
had with Sora have only added to her feeling of isolation. I
keep her with me only because otherwise she would be left to
mope on her own downstairs.
Good. Now the other thing is this, and I do want to
hear your views on it. Before, we formed a group of four men
and one woman, and, if you remember, Sora always had one
particular man that, as Korkungal put it, she went to. In other
words, one man was preeminent. There probably was good
reason for that. It did help to produce stability in the group.
Now were three men and two women. I dont know how it
will sort out this time. No, Hepteidon, Im not going to
presuppose anything. You must try to remember that its
going to be a wholly new grouping. So dont presume on
earlier relationships either. Give it time to sort itself out.
What do you say?
I understand the point, Pol-Chi. For myself, Im most
of all glad that we will be together again as a group, I expect
to be very busy with affairs and itll be nice to have friends to
turn to in the evening.
Good. Now, what do you say, Little Ki?
Do you really renounce your possession of
me...Hepteidon?
Yes, Little Ki. Ill put it in writing, if you wish.
That wont be necessary, Hepteidon. Look, Little Ki,
if you join us, hell be in no position to claim anything from
you that you dont wish to give.
I do want to join, eh, Pol-Chi.
Yes, forget the lordship thing. That went with the
Empire as well. I think Hepteidon should stop calling himself
188

the Grand Duke, too. I always thought Astronomer suited

you better.
Perhaps youre right. But what about the Armies?
Dont worry. In a few months they wont care about
titles or rank at all. Thats why I want to create new habits of
command and organisation.
I see that. Sometimes, Pol-Chi, I forget just what a
revolution the An-Akar will be.
You never know, Hepteidon, it might even be the
miracle you want.
Do you really think so, Pol-Chi? That heartens me. I
must admit that I have been losing faith in it. I mean, its all
so laborious and chaotic.
Wait and see, Hepteidon. Itll all fall into place at the
right moment.
You sound so confident.
Why not? Ill see you both later, I want to show
myself now to the soldiers and townspeople.

189

Chapter Twelve
Pol-Chi almost tripped over Griron in the twilight,
seated as he was in the entrance to the converted temple. He
picked him up and said:
Have you come to see Ilgem again, Griron?
He carried him around to the front of the building and
pointed over the stockade.
Look, there it is. See how bright it is, even though
there is still daylight.
The child looked intently, following the line of PolChis finger. Then he saw it, and he danced in Pol-Chis
arms, raising his hands to the star.
You greet it, little man. But youre right. It brings
beauty first. You are right to acknowledge that.
When the child quietened, Pol-Chi took him indoors.
He went down the corridor to the first lighted room. Uos
and Hepteidon looked up from their interrupted conversation.
Pol-Chi set Griron on the floor. He immediately crawled over
to Uos and sat between his legs.
Do you know, Uos? It has suddenly struck me that
your colouring is similar to Korkungals. Was your hair red?
Uos caressed Grirons head gently.
No, Pol-Chi. It was fairer. He grinned with sudden
cunning. I know what you are thinking, though.
And?
Who knows, Pol-Chi?
Hepteidon interrupted.
Uos, youre not implying that you could be the father
of Griron, are you?
190

As Pol-Chi says, if I was, Griron would be little

different to what he is now.
You dont mean it, do you, Pol-Chi?
Ive just realised the possibility, thats all. Look how
Griron sits with Uos. Like a son with his father.
But thats because hes used to him. Of course he
treats Uos as a father.
Well, its good then that the child has a father to look
up to.
Does it matter, Pol-Chi?
No, it doesnt, Uos.
Wait now, Pol-Chi. Theres another implication.
Youre saying that Sora coupled with Uos while she was
with Korkungal.
Uos laughed.
How innocent, Hepteidon. Sora goes with whom she
pleases. All her men must accept that.
Yes. I forgot she was a whore.
Thats one way of putting it. Anyway, Hepteidon, it
never kept you away from her.
That was different, Pol-Chi. We were all together then
in that little room on the ship.
Pol-Chi and Uos laughed at the strain in Hepteidons
voice.
Did I break up your conversation?
Join us Pol-Chi. We were discussing his theology.
Its not theology, Uos. Ive told you that before, I did
not intend blasphemy in my writing.
But its all about gods, Hepteidon. What else can it be
but theology?
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The Priesthood would not recognise it as theology.

Theyd consider it as heresy and a blasphemy.
It hardly matters what the Priesthood thinks of it now,
Hepteidon. No one is interested in their religion any more.
Perhaps, Pol-Chi. But they remain the source of most
religious thought.
What if religious thought is irrelevant also,
Hepteidon?
Then what are we doing, Pol-Chi, if it isnt religion?
That depends. Are we men, slaves, or Gods,
Hepteidon?
Are you mocking me, Pol-Chi?
No, hes not, Hepteidon.
Well, in that case. The answer is that I dont really
know, Pol-Chi. I dont have much to add to what I wrote.
I appreciate that. But there is one remark which
fascinated me. Hepteidon, Why do you claim that our history
is false?
Oh, that. It did shock me at the time, but now I think it
doesnt make much difference. Anyway, Uos did most of
that work.
What work, Uos?
Will I tell him, Hepteidon, or do you want to?
No, you tell him.
Very well, Pol-Chi. Hepteidon discovered an old
tapestry in the Keep that had a completely alien quality to it,
both as to subject and style. No one in the Keep knew
anything about it, they hadnt even noticed it. There was a
door behind the tapestry but we never managed to open it.
But this aroused Hepteidons curiosity. During the
time of the preparation for the An-Akar, he asked me,
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because Ive had some experience with archives, to

investigate the Imperial archives. Theyre stored in huge
caves deep under the Imperial mountain, the Mu-Ra. What
surprised me at first was the amount of records stored there.
The archivists claimed that they went back to the dawn of
time. I was sceptical, of course, for what archive doesnt
claim something like that. So I set to work on the registers,
working back through ten thousand years of history. But I
found that the received account of the history of this Age is
reflected in the records, though admittedly records from the
early millennia were sparse and in bad condition.
At this stage I came to the conclusion that the tapestry
Hepteidon had found was foreign rather then ancient, an
illiterate rendition of some legend by members of a society
then outside the Empire and probably coming into the
Imperial collection at the time of conquest of that society.
But then, because, as the old archivists explained, of
my apparent interest in the older records, I was shown
another set of registers and records. I didnt believe it when I
was told this. However, I set to work again. The script was
different to ours, but I recognised it and the language. They
were distantly related to the language and script of my
people! In these records there were references to Empires and
great cities, to wars, famines, and strange sights. The balance
of power in that Age was different to ours. There were four
Empires and many smaller states, and they fought among
themselves incessantly.
However, none of this necessarily contradicted our
account of history. We simply have nothing to say about the
previous Age, perhaps because it was so boringly like our
own: wars, conquests, famines, rebellion. But I had become
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so involved in my studies that I had taken to living with the

archivists, who, you know, live all their lives down in the
caves...
He was once missing for over a month. I had to send
men down to see if he was still alive.
Yes, they brought me back to the present, as it were, I
was very surprised to see them and didnt understand what
they wanted at first. However, what engrossed me by then
were the other records that the archivists showed me. The
first thing that I noticed was the arrangement of the archives
as a whole. Under the mountain and up into it and out under
the sea, I was assured there is a veritable labyrinth of caves.
In these caves are stored all the remaining records of all the
Ages of man. Then I noticed how all these various records
differed. Some were great stacks of skins, others of bound
materials, like parchment only lighter and more fragile, others
had mixtures, rolls and loose skins alternating with bound
volumes as the scale of civilisation rose and fell and rose
again. For some Ages, there were stone tablets, a great many
for one Age, only a few for another. There were no records
for some, and this fact was noted. But, and I found this
amazing, the records of some Ages were stored in small
boxes of mysterious materials. Some of these boxes
contained sheets like soft ice, others seem to be filled with
string only. But I was assured that the records contained in
these boxes were as vast as any I had seen stacked in other
caves.
Pol-Chi, I still dont know what to make of it all.
What I have told you already is enough to make any mans
head ache with wonderment and awe. But there is more, Im
afraid.
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All these records are in different scripts and

languages, and while a few successive Ages may have
possessed distantly related languages and scripts, among all
the various records taken together, there are a great number
of strange scripts and languages. But the archivists are a
special people, almost, I suspect, a special race, of men. They
live in the caves with their wives and children, and only
rarely allow outsiders to marry into their race, usually
because he or she has a special talent or aptitude. But, and
this is an amazing thing, they insist that they have tended the
archives continuously for many Ages. They say that because
they live so deep under the ground under such a mighty
mountain, they never suffer in great cataclysms or other
disasters. At the end of each Age, they seal up the caves and
live on, doing their work, until another Age contacts them.
Some Ages, they told me, never learn of their existence, so
that the archivists are obliged to gather the records of those
Ages themselves.
I dont know whether that is true or not; all archivists
claim great antiquity for their libraries and like to think of
themselves as part of a long line of archivists. But I admit
that they possess powers foreign to our Age. They live much
longer than we do. They have very white skins and large dark
eyes, presumably because they spend all of their lives out of
the sun. Otherwise they are much like us. But they do dress
differently, with a single garment of different colours which
fits their bodies snugly. They say it is a special garment,
made to keep them healthy and warm. But they have strange
mechanisms. Their lighting consists of a low glow which
seems to hang in the very air. When they ask it to, it dims or
brightens according to their instructions. Their food appears
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to grow in little boxes in walls. I have eaten it myself. The

flavours are sometimes different, but those that I recognised
were notably pallid compared to what we have here. Then
they have little carts, for the want of a better word, which
they use for carrying themselves and their materials around,
for the caverns are vast and it would take a long time to walk
from end to end. But these carts have no wheels and are not
drawn by any animal! They make a low sound, but I was
assured that they were not living beings. And they have other
mechanisms, and though their functions were explained to
me, I simply could not understand. The archivists were very
gentle, for when they saw my confusion they always stopped,
and consoled my limited understanding by saying that they
would explain again at another time, when I would
understand.
They had one great mechanism, which is important to
their own researches. They call it by some strange name, a
long word in what I suspect was a totally alien language. I
found it difficult to believe it was a mechanism at all, but
they smiled and said I would have to learn how to look at it.
How do you learn how to look, Pol-Chi? I nearly cried
with frustration at my ignorance that day. But I will tell you
what I saw. In a large cave the air seemed to be full of light.
Thats all. The light varied in subtle ways, blending in and
out, up and down. And it moved all the time, like a brightly
coloured mist. The archivists claimed that their specialists
could read the mist. They could speak to it in a special way
and the mist would reply in its own way!
And what is the purpose of this machine, Pol-Chi? Ah,
this is the hardest part to grasp and understand. The archivists
said that, according to their records, which they believe may
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be incomplete, there have been one thousand seven hundred

and fifty-one Ages of man! They said that these Ages have
varied greatly in length, some only as short as forty
generations, and others lasting more than one hundred
thousand generations! Altogether, they estimated that, again
according to their records, there has been more than nineteen
million generations of man! Pol-Chi, Hepteidon, consider the
sheer immensity of that! That amounts to over five hundred
and seventy million years!
I cried with deep sadness when I heard that. But the
archivists tried to console me by telling me something of
their philosophy. They told me not to consider time an
obstacle, saying that I did not think to be overwhelmed by the
existence of all the numbers upon numbers of the grains of
sand in the seas of the world. Only the Moment was of
importance. I asked them then for knowledge of the world
and they replied by saying that such knowledge as they
possessed was very little. I was surprised to hear this, and
forgetting my terror of time, I pressed them on this, for the
mechanisms and knowledge I knew they possessed told me
that they had invaluable knowledge for me. But they smiled
and said that they had knowledge of over five hundred
different theories of the world and of the universe, of its age,
establishment, composition, motion and purpose. They also
said that they were all true and useful, but that many of them
contradicted each other. So, for themselves, they were
content to remain in ignorance of the true nature of the world.
And they went on to volunteer the information that the same
was true of the other universes, both in our space and in other
spaces. They said that man had reached other universes in
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some Ages, but that the theories they developed were also
useful but contradictory.
So I asked them to explain their work to me. They
said that in their opinion the only subject fit for study was
man himself. They said that they were using their great
machine to study all the knowledge of the Ages of man...
To find out why man endured, Uos, as Hepteidon
said in his writing?
Yes, Pol-Chi. To find out what purpose there was in
the existence of man. Now, they began from the argument
that the mere existence of man implied some kind of
meaning. They insisted that such an implication was, strictly
speaking, self-evident. That man is, as they phrased it, means
something. They seek to discover what that something is.
According to their researches, man appears, in the various
Ages, to have done everything imaginable. They have created
paradises, and have created hells; they have been kind and
loving to each other and all living things, and they have been
unimaginably cruel. They have spent Ages living like animals
on earth, and in other Ages they have flown like birds up to
the stars. The archivists say man has also thought and
dreamed everything, and they showed me paintings and
writings, which they said, with study, would prove to be
masterpieces in any Age.
The archivists then said that while man has done all
these things, it was hard to understand, from their own point
of view as students of all the Ages, what the single purpose of
it all was, except perhaps the passing imprint of mans
continuous existence.
Here I raised our preoccupations and asked them if the
ending of Ages had meaning in themselves. For the
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archivists, the greatest mystery is located here. I was glad to

hear this, but what they told me then daunted me again. In the
first place, while cataclysms often bring Ages to an end, man
has on other occasions been the instrument of his own
destruction. The archivists pay special attention to such
events. They say that even when cataclysms, which by the
way vary greatly in cause and dont always require new stars
to precipitate them, lead to the ending of an Age, it is always
the case, going by the evidence of the records, that man
himself has at that time come to desire his own extinction.
Their present conclusion, based on all these studies, which is
a tentative conclusion, is that the whole of creation moves in
sympathy with man...
Hepteidon, is this where you get your notion of the
one power from?
Not entirely, Pol-Chi, but it gave me the confidence to
express it.
In any case, Pol-Chi, it is a principle of the teachings
of the priesthood that our world moves in sympathy with the
Imperial Will. So theres really nothing extraordinary or
original in this conclusion.
I take your point, Uos. But do go on.
So the archivists have come to propose that man in his
actual existence has meaning as some kind of separation from
a vast unity, and that his strivings are an attempt, hidden from
man in many ways, to return to that unity. However, the
archivists dont pretend to know how or why man became
separated in the first place. Naturally, they do not know how
man can be reunited with this whole, or even if it is possible.
Tell Pol-Chi what they said about the Gods.
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Yes, Hepteidon. I was about to tell him. I asked them

if they knew anything about the gods and goddesses that man
believes in. They said that, once again, the experiences of the
various Ages differed greatly. Some Ages, they said, had
great religions and performed very magnificent miracles, but
other Ages had only a small interest in religion. They could
find no pattern in this and had concluded that there was a
contingent factor involved in mans beliefs. But they pointed
out to me that if it is accepted that mans basic drive is for
some kind of reunion, then every gesture, thought, and act of
man, however small, accidental or private, spoke of that great
desire and assisted the realisation of the desire, then religion
itself did not necessarily betoken a concentration on attaining
this desire, as most religious people of most Ages believed.
Some Ages, indeed, had come to realise that every thought
and action had this meaning and had gone to great lengths to
explore every possible thought, meaning and gesture in the
search for fulfilment.
When I asked them, as their vast vision drove me to
ask, if they knew of any man or men who had attained this
union, they answered that as far as they understood the whole
matter it was impossible to know that. They said, and this
reminds me of something you said once, Pol-Chi, that such
an achievement of union would be so great and complete an
accomplishment that it would either make all the difference
possible, or no difference at all. In either case, they argued, it
seemed to them that everything would remain much as it was
before. They gave the example of a peasant in his field who
suddenly achieved union and then bent down to pull his next
cabbage. I know this theory seems paradoxical, but they did
argue, and cogently, I think, that such a union would
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probably take place on a plane of existence far removed from

the sensual one, or even from the plane of the intellect, and so
would not be experienced on either of these planes. They
insisted that, on their own researches and experiences, mans
planes of existence, as they called them, are many and as
deep as they are high, figuratively speaking.
Then they pointed out that on the basis of this theory it
could be argued that all men achieve union at birth, at
anytime in their lives, under the influence of a predestination
or a choice, that they could win it by hard struggle of various
kinds, by the utterance of a secret word or a common word.
They even said that men could gain and lose union
continuously during their lives, in response to all kinds of
accidents and failings.
I remember that evening well, Pol-Chi, and I have told
you about it before, Hepteidon. We had spoken together for
most of the day, for my interest in, and grasp of, what they
had to tell me stimulated them to continue. But at the end,
when we were all haggard from talk and thought, one of them
got up and touched a little picture he was especially fond of,
from an Age long ago, and said that really, in the end, you
come to realise that either everything was possible or nothing
was possible. Or as he said, after wishing us good-night, that
both were simultaneously true.
But what of the Gods, Uos? Tell Pol-Chi about
them.
I will, Hepteidon. But I think its important that he
heard about man first. I did ask them some days afterwards if
they had any knowledge about the possible nature of divinity.
I phrased it in this way because I had learned enough from
them to realise that this was the only way of broaching the
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subject. Once again they said that they knew little. Their most
valuable opinion, derived from all their work, was that the
important feature of divinity from the point of view of man
was that divinity did not know. Now, Pol-Chi, they were
careful on this point. They meant simply that divinity was
incapable of knowing as such, which is not a matter of having
no knowledge. Hence, they concluded that divinity could not
act, or desire, or have purpose. But they, again, were careful
to point out that they believed that divinity did have motion.
Their reason for saying this was simple and, as so much of
their theories are, contingent on what they believed about
man. They said that if divinity was motionless as well as
unknowing, then man could have no idea, never mind
experience, of divinity. But, they argued, as man had an idea
of divinity, even if it was only a word, an empty symbol at
best, then it was necessary to suppose that divinity had some
way of making its presence known. This way, they theorised,
was by means of motion.
But, Uos, why are the archivists so confident that
divinity doesnt know, as you say?
Quite simply, Pol-Chi, because, as the archivists
argue, there is nothing to know. They said that of course
divinity might well have knowledge of itself or of its own
plane of being, but that it could not have knowledge of mans
planes of existence, because planes were meaningless to the
divinity. If this wasnt the case, they continued, if the divinity
and man shared, as it were, planes of being, then man would
have more knowledge of divinity than he seems to have. I
think the archivists reason for saying that man and divinity
can share some kind of motion is that they believe motion is
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in some way fundamental to all existence, in a way that

thought, either as inspiration or reflection, is not.
But we must be cautious in this, Pol-Chi, for the
archivists themselves were cautious. They based all their
thinking in this matter on the fact that man does use a symbol
for divinity and on nothing else. They discounted miracles as
merely phenomenal, and the desire for a god as an aspect of
the deeper meaning of existence.
They gave me these thoughts towards the end of my
sojourn with them. On the last day, I asked them if they could
give me some, how will I put it? some maxim to guide me.
They were eager to do this, for as I have said, they were a
considerate race. They told me that knowledge was not the
end of life but, instead, that existence was, though they
readily admitted that they didnt know what they meant by
the term. When I pointed out the similarity between this term
considered as a symbol and what they had to say about the
emptiness of mans symbol for the divinity, they laughed
with sheer delight, which flattered me, especially because it
was my last day there. They openly agreed that there was a
similarity, and went further and said, among much laughter
and hilarity, that any concept, idea, or symbol pursued far
enough tends to empty, leaving one with a husk. However, in
a more serious tone, they said I need only consult myself to
discover my existence, which could not be done so concretely
in the matter of divinity. That, they told me finally, was why
they put the emphasis on mans existence, as such, rather
than on divinity, because they can live within its grasp, even
if they can know or say precious little about it.
Tell me, Uos, as a last remark to what is a fascinating
story, how did the archivists distinguish between being and
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existence, for I notice you once, at least, used the words in

such a way as to imply a difference of meaning?
Actually, Pol-Chi, I asked them that myself. They said
that existence had motion and that being had not. Now, they
insisted that on one level they were speaking of conventions
to do with words, but on another they returned to their earlier
characterisation of existence as exemplified only by motion.
Existence is thus recognised in motion and not vice-versa. Of
being, they said that to the extent that it was meant to
designate a state which was beyond motion, then it had to be
called meaningless. But they allowed that men could hold
such a concept, but they said it was either an invalid
abstraction from the reality of things, or, again, it was used
like all our symbols representing divinity to indicate a
putative plane or mode of existence about which no other
knowledge could be had. They concluded by saying that
while such abstract ideas were conceivable, they had no
value; only the study of the nature of motion itself could
produce useful knowledge.
But, Uos, what in that case had they to say about
death? You did make some remarks to me in the Ka-Ra but
Im afraid I was too preoccupied by what you had already
told me to absorb what you had to report. It seems to me,
hearing your account again, and in a more unified form, that
death surely must have interested the archivists, if only
because it is the one fate assured to all men.
I agree with you, Hepteidon, that death should have
been an important subject for their researches, but when I
asked them, it seemed to me that they regarded it as a trivial
topic for conversation. In the first place, they said, while
numbers upon numbers amounting to countless numbers of
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men had lived and died, the fact that their researches
indicated the presence of one abiding desire common to all
men made death seem irrelevant. perhaps because they dealt
with Ages of men, the archivists seem unable to focus upon
individual life and death. However, they always insisted that
the great human desire they spoke about resided only in men
as individuals, and not in groups, races, Ages, or some
generic notion of mankind. And, as I have already said, they
seemed to be sympathetic to those Ages which studied
individual motions, such as thought, speech and actions, as
the site of the solution to the mystery of man. Hence, death
must have preoccupied them at some stage, though it
obviously does not now.
They said two things about death. In the first place
they said that no reliable knowledge could be gained about
death, because, they said, it is the supreme private and
subjective experience. In their own terminology, death is the
one motion that each individual man undergoes for himself
alone. By its very nature, no report can be made of it, at least
no report that could be valued as knowledge. They said they
possessed hundreds of theories of the after-life, theories of
incarnations, judgments, paradises and hells, shadow worlds,
and unions with gods and goddesses. But, they continued, the
fact that such theories have consistently failed to reassure
men in any permanent way indicated that they could not
produce true knowledge. Furthermore, they said that many
Ages produced theories which said that death was a complete
end to man, that like all other life man simply rotted and
returned to the earth which had nourished him. The archivists
were of the opinion that this last theory was by far the most
useful theory of death, because it had the advantage of
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turning mens minds away from death and of forcing them to

concentrate upon their lives, and hence upon their existences.
I was startled by this argument, of course, and pressed them.
They simply said that such a theory, though pessimistic and
in itself as emptily theoretical as all the theories about the
after-life, it at least came closest to their own view, that no
useful knowledge about death was possible.
Their second opinion was that death, considered as a
final act or motion of man, could not exist. Here they
speculated that death might well be a transfer from one plane
of existence to another. Again, they said it might seem, from
the other side, an awakening similar to that which the newborn baby experiences. The archivists insisted, of course, that
they were speculating only in reply to my question. But some
of them did say that there were occasions, while they were
deeply engaged in their work, when the idea of death seemed
to them to be an absurdity resulting from some incorrect
thinking, or ignorance, or even a deep-seated fear of
something more terrible. These archivists were tempted to
bracket the concept of death with the idea of divinity and
pure being as empty symbols which marked a failing or
weakness in man, perhaps as a result of his division from the
whole.
They concluded by earnestly entreating me not to
preoccupy my precious time with such a topic as death. As an
inevitable motion, they told me, it possesses no freedom and
is therefore composed of what they called unintelligible
motion, motion which can only be endured but not known. I
thanked them for their patience with me and prepared to go to
my cot. But suddenly I realised that their last words about the
subject of death implied. When I returned to the room in
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which we had gathered that evening, I saw that they had all
remained in their places. It was as though they had submitted
me to some test and now awaited the result of that test. When
I entered that room, my face must have been bright with
inspiration, for they all showed delight and some even
cheered. Then, patiently and with many happy smiles, they
awaited my question. I said, But you have described death in
exactly the same way as you describe the divinity! Both of
them are forms of what you call unintelligible motion!
Pol-Chi, Hepteidon, they merely sat there nodding to
me, their whole persons suffused with such pure intellectual
joy! Then one of them, Jon, their leader, said, Yes, my dear
Uos, it seems from our reasoning that death is divinity, and
divinity is death. But, he continued, they suspected an error
in logic or a peculiar limitation of language had brought them
to this conclusion. He allowed that certainly the hypothesis
might be true, to the extent that any hypothesis might be true
or to the extent that anything is possible, just as everything
could be impossible. But he cautioned me to be wary of the
conclusion, for, as he pointed out, the equation was
ultimately meaningless.
I must say, remembering that evening now, that I
came closest to them at that time. To celebrate my success
and their own contentment, and mine needlessly to say, a
measure of their beautiful drink, which is neither wine nor
beer, was brought out. That night was the only occasion that
my talent as storyteller was exercised among them. And in
my experience they provided the finest audience my tales
ever had, for they listened with open hearts and naive
credibility to everything I had to say.
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Uos waited a while in silence, heedlessly caressing

Grirons face he had fallen asleep against his thighs. Then,
realising that neither Pol-Chi not Hepteidon had any more
questions to ask him, he stretched carefully, eased Griron
down on to the skin, got up and left the room. In his deep
abstraction, Pol-Chi gazed upon the sleeping boy. Then, as
though drawn to it, he looked out the window.
Ilgem glowed brilliantly in the very centre of the
window, casting light on the wooden frame.
Youre right, Hepteidon. The star has become very
bright.
Hepteidon roused himself from his reverie and looked
behind him. When he returned to look at Pol-Chi, his eyes
showed keen alertness.
You are happy, Pol-Chi, he said unexpectedly, a
statement which sought confirmation.
Pol-Chis eyes were gentle.
I am, Hepteidon. And how are you now?
Hepteidon looked away, glancing at Griron:
I am calm, Pol-Chi. I have never been so calm. It is as
though I have been raised up above all the struggle of the
world.
Im glad to hear that, Hepteidon.
But it is not like your happiness, Pol-Chi. It will not
last. I dread the return to the world.

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Chapter Thirteen
When Uos came in, he was staggering under the
weight of a large, elaborately sealed jar. Pol-Chi jumped up
to help him carry it into the room.
This is part of your ration, Grand High Lord of the
An-Akar.
I forgot to tell you, Pol-Chi, that various supplies of
food, drink and clothing were allocated to your rank. We had
them brought here for you the other day.
Special rations, Hepteidon?
Of course, my Grand High Lord. You no longer eat or
drink with the common soldiers. You must be careful to
attend to the privileges of your exalted rank.
Uos laughed gleefully, pulling pointlessly at the
stopper of the jar.
We need Korkungal now, Pol-Chi said, laughing.
Hepteidon, do you have the sword?
While Pol-Chi and Uos cut and prised with the sword,
Little Ki left the side of the sleeping Griron, leaving him in
the care of Sora, and came to watch the labour of opening the
jar. She cheered loudly with Pol-Chi and Uos when they
succeeded in extracting the stopper. Hepteidon brought the
cups and Pol-Chi tipped the jar to fill them.
Its a good wine, Pol-Chi. Better than beer.
As you say, Hepteidon, I must attend to my
privileges.
When each had a cup, Pol-Chi lifted the sword and
sighted down the blade in order to attract their attention. Then
he raised it above his head and shouted:
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To the memory of our friend, Korkungal the Brigan!

What was Korkungal, my Lord? Little Ki asked after
she had drunk.
A great warrior, my Lady, who was blessed in his
death.
May we all be blessed in our deaths, Little Ki
proposed with sudden seriousness, raising her cup.
They drank and more wine was poured.
Who will we drink to now?
Uos, who do you propose?
To the archivists of the Caves of Mu-Ra. May their
work be fruitful soon! and laughed, drinking and shaking
with ironic merriment.
Now who will propose? You, Hepteidon?
Very well. To the Emperor Van the Twenty-third, and
my new father!
After a loud jeer, everyone drank deeply, spluttering
and pealing laughter.
Now you, Little Ki.
We will drink to little Hsin, the Emperors most loyal
slave!
Less ebullient, they drank.
My Lady, who was this Hsin and why was he loyal?
He made himself die because his Emperor wished it,
my Lord.
In the strange silence that ensued, Hepteidon turned to
Sora.
Will you propose now, Sora?
Sora looked at first as though she would refuse,
withdrawing into herself and staring at the floor. She seemed
to struggle with herself. Then Uos prompted.
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Speak to us all, lovely Sora. We are your friends.

She nodded abruptly as though in obedience to Uos.
Then she looked up at Hepteidon and spoke quietly.
I choose to drink to the living. I drink to those who do
not seek to murder love.
Uos shouted, Sora!
Drink, old man. I demand it!
But Hepteidon threw down his cup and marched out of
the room.
Pol-Chi and Little Ki drank with Sora. After a pause,
Uos raised his cup and drained it.
When she had drunk, Sora stooped and gathered up
Griron and left the room without raising her head.
Uos suddenly plumped to the floor. His bones jarred
on the wooden floor.
Why should she have said such a thing? he asked,
looking earnestly at Pol-Chi and Little Ki.
Instead of answering, Pol-Chi tipped the jar and filled
their cups, then sat down facing Uos. Little Ki paused and
judged the two men. Then she sat at right angles to them,
drawing up her legs and folding her arms under her breasts.
Wont you answer, Pol-Chi? Uos asked.
Very well, Uos, though I dont see why I should be
the one to say it. However, I ask, how did Sora learn that?
Little Ki bent forward and said:
It is simple. Sora asks Hepteidon for love.
Ah, Little Ki, what shrewdness.
Stop flattering me, Uos. You know thats not
necessary.
Pol-Chi laughed.
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He shows appreciation, Black Lady. I support his

compliment. He raised his cup. You have so many talents.
We are not to be serious then?
Uos pushed her playfully on the knee. What can we
do but laugh, Little Ki?
But Hepteidon does kill those he loves. Why is that?
No, Pol-Chi. Not you too. Let us drink and play
instead.
Drink then.
They drank.
And what shall we play? Pol-Chi, you make good
games. Make us one now.
But, Uos, have you not asked yourself the question,
who does Hepteidon love now?
Oh, very well, Pol-Chi. Its an easy question to
answer. Hepteidon loves Hepteidon. Little Ki, tell Pol-Chi
who Hepteidon loves.
Pol-Chi, Hepteidon loves Hepteidon.
Very good, Little Ki. But was that wit or service.
A happy coincidence, Uos, old man, of truth and
obedience.
Who, then, does he kill, clever ones.
Why, Pol-Chi, my Lord, it is not a question of who he
kills, but of who he loves to kill.
There is a game here. The answer to that riddle,
Beautiful Lady, is that Hepteidon loves to kill he whom he
loves.
So that...
Allow me, Little Ki. Thus he loves to kill he who is
not.
Little Ki?
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The Emperor should have decreed his death, for his

will turns out.
Ah, but would he have been able to obey such a
Decree? His fascination with Hsin indicates that he would
not.
Yes, my Lord. I see that now. I will put it otherwise: it
is said that the Emperor sacrifices so that He-who-is-not
can appear in the Absence.
Oh, excellent, my lovely cow. I heap flattery upon you
for greater service.
And so you do, dog. But who is He-who-is-not?
I will try a shaft here, my Lady. He is the Great
Refuser. He whose Absence fills the life of man.
And when he appears, Grand High Lord of the Last
Days?
He must refuse for the sake of man, Man of all the
Days of Man.
And he did, my Lord Bull? Teach me again.
I teach you always, Pet, for you are willing to learn
the same lesson always. He refused the very gods. There.
I ask on behalf of my Mother, Grand and High Lord:
it is said that the Refuser died for man. Is that so?
I fill my Black Cow with my answer. He died for one
man among the shadows.
I like that, my Puissant Lord. And thusly was the
Burden passed, from one to another as in love?
Now I rejoin: as in love, Ample Lady. Like the lover,
sword drawn, seeks his enemy, his love, and finding his love,
does kill.
The aptness overwhelms me, I die on the Sword. But,
I ask, breathlessly, who also died?
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I make a joke here, Lady of Many Talents, and feed

your desire for truths. He who also died was the Refuser.
Again I speak for the Holy Cow: the Emperor is only
the Shadow of Ambiguity, which itself dies by its own selfconsuming Will, an impossibility.
She is to be praised, hoping for rewards. And
therefore in dying, cannot die.
And now I can say it quickly, Captain who burned a
mast so his Priest might return to service..?
But of his Queen, Black Lady, sometime goddess.
Great flattery indeed. But saying it, I say it so: in
living cannot live.
And I will rest on this, Lord and Lady, and hope it is
taken to your bosoms: through racking and chopping he seeks
in the middle, like an Emperor, who is the Child without a
Father. In the Middle, he seeks...
Oh, do not say it, lapdog!
Who is the Chosen?
Brightness in the Light, who is the Beast?
They who love too much. I expire for the sake of such
love.
Nightly, Loving Lady.
Such sacrifice, Beautiful Temple. But I ask on a last
breath: who loves too much?
Why, Old Rooter in the Cave of Mu-Ra, the Great
Imperial Mount, the Chosen does love the Beast, and the
Beast does love the Chosen.
In the Middle, Laid Low Lord?
In the very Door, between Coming and Going, Slave
to my dying gasp.
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To the very End. But, I fear to ask, who stands in the

Door?
I fear to hear. Wait for a sign.
No omens, late-poet. We are far beyond that.
Listen, Historian of motions, there are omens
everywhere now. In the Last Days everything turns back on
itself, there being no where to go.
Oh, my Lord! Are you a Wizard? Or do you have
good ears?
Answer me, Black Beauty. Who stands in the Door?
Griron!
Yes. Griron, do you stand in the door?
And he answers, Captain of the Northern Star.
You see, Lady, Griron passes through the Door.
That is an omen indeed, Poet of the Living. Is the
legend created?
Hush, Seeker of Bones in the Earth. She who bore
through the Deep learns of the mystery of life.
The mystery, Beautiful Lord?
Now!
Sora, naked, anxious, blinked in the light of the room,
peering about. She came forward, then stopped suddenly,
seeing Griron lying between Little Kis glistening breasts.
She licked her lips, hesitant.
We will take care of him, lovely Sora. Do not fear.
We are his friends.
Sora still hesitated, seemingly compelled to remain
poised. Pol-Chi nodded and said:
The legend continues.
Hepteidon stood in the door, naked, the slight blush of
a weal on his penis.
215

Who stands in the door, Hepteidon? Pol-Chi called

jovially from his place, snuggled against Little Kis right
side.
Ignoring him, Hepteidon bent anxiously towards Sora.
Come back, Sora. They will keep him safe.
It was Uos who gasped, lying between Little Kis
spread thighs, his head pillowed on her wide groin.
Sora turned to Hepteidon. They saw her buttocks crawl
and tighten. Pol-Chi said:
You give her love, Uos?
I gave her the impossibility. I give her the possibility.
My Lady?
What she asks, I will give lovely slim Sora.
And I, Woman of the Deep, I bring you love as you
brought me love. May my love serve you as yours served
me.
Sora turned to them, fearful yet appealing.
Pol-Chi looked over her shoulder and shouted
tauntingly:
Hepteidon, who do you love?
Hepteidon looked down at his gonads, his hands
spreading out as though to reveal all there was to be revealed.
Uos spoke slowly, deep in his throat, the vertebrae of
his neck kneading Little Ki.
Hepteidon, sorry friend, who do you wish to love?
Hepteidon looked up from his gonads, a frank despair on his
face, and regarded Sora.
And Little Ki, holding Griron close down between
lolling ample swollen breasts, asked,
Whose Crown do you desire?
This brought gasps from Pol-Chi, Sora and Hepteidon.
216

Sora said,
You cannot will it, Hepteidon.
Pol-Chi observed:
But he tries to will it through the negation of a
negation, Sora. Look, he seeks the other impossibility. He
seeks a slavery which is the refusal to serve.
Uos sinking blithely on moist odorous warmth said
mockingly, laughing back against Little Kis Mu-Ra:
Will it make him rise?
Little Ki, radiating warmth, said:
Refuse him, Sora. Refuse him.
Sora covered her breasts in a casual way and said:
No, Hepteidon. I will not.
Hepteidon showed rage and swung his arm, Sora
stepped back, arching her body, eluding him. He came
forward, his face a mask, snarling:
I will possess you, Sora! No one here will stop me!
He lunged and grabbed her, swinging her off balance
and throwing her on to the floor.
Uos remarked:
Observe the rise.
Hepteidon dived on top of her, pinioning her, glaring at
her with
If there is a darkness in love, this is it. Here is the
Other Door.
Soras face showed the strain of her resistance, her
lovely, regular brown features drawn into a mask of great
economy of expression.
It is said, you know, that the giver cannot receive.
That is the secret motion of charity.
217

Hepteidon worked with determination and precise

movement to force his legs between her thighs. Greater
weight and strength were successful at last.
The legend of the An-Akar will be enacted here.
One of Soras motions helped Hepteidon. Pinned arms
and legs forced apart too wide for articulation left her with
her back muscles alone. Vainly she sought to throw
Hepteidon off her by jerking up her belly and twisting at the
peak of this motion. Hepteidon carefully judged, riding out
her bucking belly, then moved on an instant and
Being in the Door is only the beginning.
Low sultry laughter.
Yes, now the coming and going, and coming.
More laughter.
And charity, to develop an image, now seeks its secret
dream realised: the impotent flaunts its shame.
Voluptuously.
Sweat ran from Hepteidon and his face was contorted
in concentration. Sweat ran from Sora and she fought him.
She held him tightly in her arms to throw him off; she arched
her body to throw him off. Hepteidon was pulled down closer
and he was drawn in deeper.
Then Pol-Chi rolled out from the warm side of Little
Ki, out from under her lolling right breast, and went on hands
and knees to the struggling couple. There he waited, judging
with a gleam in his eyes. Suddenly he gave Hepteidons
sweating, pumping rump a sharp stinging slap and shouted:
Stop thinking!
It worked.
Korkungal died by the sword, and lives by the sword.
Or the Emperor will have his Will, even if he cant.
218

Laughter.
Or if the Chosen cant pass in the Door, then the Beast
wont either.
Sora rolled away from Hepteidons blossom and licked
the sweat on her lips, fingering her tender vagina. She lay,
stretching the gentle curves of her alluring body, then kicked,
her foot swinging across the floor into Hepteidons groin.
Such love as is concentrated there.
Hepteidon jerked, knees coming up, whimpering in his
ecstatic extremity. Now Sora went closer and brought her flat
palm down on to his ear. Hepteidons skull bounced off the
wooden floor, resounding.
So much for theology.
But his knee came up, unbeknown to Sora, and caught
her on the hip, driving her over. Hepteidon was up then, his
hand swinging at her falling head.
This tale Ive heard before.
But who defends? Who attacks?
Ambiguities?
What else?
They say that when the dog succeeds in catching his
tail, the Gods smile and bestow blessings in abundance.
This dog will die of exhaustion first, I think. What do
the Gods of dogs do then?
Pol-Chi picked Sora up bodily and swung her behind
him, and then faced Hepteidon.
Hello, Hepteidon. You are a mighty Warrior.
He put his hand on his trembling moist red shoulder to
restrain him.

219

If you rode from here to Sila and back again, mighty

Grand Duke, you would not have the energy for such
laborious coupling. Why dont you learn to ask?
You dont understand, Pol-Chi, Hepteidon said,
panting, glaring over at Sora. She drives me to this every
time.
Perhaps, But come sit and take some wine. You, too,
Sora. Let him hold you the way contented lovers do.
She sneered, panting, her smooth, ever-lovely features
alluring even in fatigue.
Wine was poured. Pol-Chi raised his cup.
To every form of love that exists and has motion.
Laughter.
Sit here, Hepteidon.
And Hepteidon sat to the left side of Little Ki, at an
angle facing across the fulsome glistening black body to
Sora, now seated cross-legged at Little Kis right thigh.
There is one thing that Hepteidon does not believe.
Whats that, Pol-Chi?
Soras no means no
Oh, stop being so blithe about it, Pol-Chi. Ive said
already that you dont understand.
Sora, my lovely, who possesses my love, what is it
that I do not understand?
I say no because I cannot say yes.
Will not say yes?
Cannot! I cannot agree to my own death.
Uos stirred between Little Kis thighs, craning to look
back at Hepteidon.
You offer her death, Astronomer?
220

Hepteidon glared at Sora, across broad-lolling black

glistening breasts that he ignored.
I offer her only what I can give, old man.
Death, Duke of Deaths Door?
No, Pol-Chi. She calls it death.
What do you call it, Swordsman?
Hepteidon broke his gaze. His eyes flickered from
person to person in the pile.
I have no name for it.
Ah. There is a new thing here. What is it?
Suddenly agitated, Griron twisted on his bed of flesh,
rolling to one side. Little Ki steadied him with a splayed
hand. Then he settled again, face resting on her left breast,
towards Hepteidon.
There are always omens. See, even Griron waits to
hear. Little Ki watched Griron, not sure that he was
completely settled. Her fingers made little movements of
reassurance against his back.
Only love and death have no names.
Acute, Little Ki. I flatter you, my Lady, against
another time. But there is one other thing now that has no
name.
I guess it, Pol-Chi, Bright Captain of the North. But
say it.
Yes, Uos. One name is always hidden. Only the true
slave can know it. Thats right, isnt it, Astronomer? I ask
you, theologian: who named the star, beautiful Ilgem?
You talk in riddles, Pol-Chi. Your poetry goes astray.
Is that so? Well, listen, man of the night sky. There
are two names here. There is the Harvest, the starry quern, the
Destroyer that destroys so that there will be life in the Dark
221

Time of Winter. And there is Ilgem, the Nameless

Brightness, the Beauty that Destroys. Astronomer, who called
it the Bright No-Thing? It was not a poet who did. All the
poet says is Hail, Bright Motion of Ambiguity, seeing there
both beauty and death. And could a scientist say, This is the
Bright No-Thing, which brings a no-name for our fear?
So, Emperor of the Middle, who cries out in the night,
Hail, Bright No-Thing!? What is his name? I will tell you,
Pretender to miracles: it is the Dark Some-Thing!
Nonsense, Pol-Chi. You play with words and
inversions. You pull opposites from your phantasy.
I do. Of course I do, Logician of the Powers. But only
to prompt a question: Why Ilgem, then? Who, I ask, is
Bright?
The Merura is bright. See how he glows in our light.
Uos. And again, the other question, who then is
Dark?
I show the Dark, Steersman.
And how brightly you show, Imperial Goddess of the
Tapestry. But I ask again, who hides the Dark?
Sora suddenly looked at Pol-Chi.
Darkness cannot be seen in the Light.
There was a pregnant silence until Hepteidon burst out:
You play with your old mystery-cunning, Pol-Chi.
You know I mean by Ilgem merely the designation that it is
yet-to-be-named. We must wait to see if its forms part of our
universe.
Still the pregnant silence. Then Hepteidon screamed in
desperation:
You know I give you my life, Sora! What more can
you ask for? If I am demanding of you, then it is only
222

because I defend myself. Why wont you give me what you

give to all other men?
Pol-Chi spoke in a clipped voice:
Give her your death, Man-who-awaits-the-name. Take
up your sword of death.
Hepteidon leaned forward, clutching his knees.
You dont want my death, Sora, do you?
Sora stared back at him with implacable eyes.
You see, neither-here-nor-there, she will command
you without commanding you. You must become the true
slave. Remember your lessons.
Hepteidon flared.
She asks the impossible, Pol-Chi!
She always does, good Duke of Ends. She believes
always that the impossible is possible. That is her greatness.
Is it not, Woman-of-the-Mark? Now give it to her.
Hepteidon scrambled to his feet and went and
rummaged behind Little Ki, under the window to the night
sky, a light playing on the left side of its frame. He returned
with the sword and handed it to Sora. He squatted beside her,
his head down, offering her a vulnerable neck.
Sora held the sword with both hands, looking down the
blade at the dent.
Who does she kill?
The sword was pointing at Uos. He squirmed back
against yielding moist flesh to the bone.
Only those she does not Command, he muttered.
The sword then swung towards Pol-Chi.
Mother of milk, he said simply in appeal.
Then to Little Ki.
223

Those who burden me, protect me, slender one. That

is the love of the slave.
Then Griron.
He rolled in his sleep until he lay on his back, arms
outstretched, lying on lolling yielding breasts. His tight
bundle of sex tremored in his sleep.
She pricked Hepteidon on the front of his shoulder. He
instantly jerked in response and fell back onto the floor.
Now, Slave, remember.
Once he was supine, Sora jumped up and grabbed his
penis. Hepteidon moaned and fought the desire to look down.
His body jerked spasmodically.
Out of your hole, Healer. Theres work.
Slowly, Sora carved with the sword, exploiting its
weight. There being no bone, her work was made easy.
Such blood. Quick, Healer.
Hepteidon let out one long scream of
See, my Imperial Pet. It is as you know: The Childwith-no-Father cannot be the Father-of-the-Child. He must
remain in the Middle. You are ever-wise, lovely Sora.
Uos crept over and edged Sora away.
A piece of cloth, quickly.
Sora touched the blood on the sword. She looked at her
fingertip.
Then she pressed it against her flesh above her left
breast.
Pol-Chi jumped, took the sword. He tipped the blood
and pressed his finger tip onto her right shoulder.
So youve tilled the Deep, lovely Sora. Who are you
now?
224

Sora stared at him with remote allurement. Pol-Chi

swung to Little Ki:
See, Slave of the Mountains and Valleys, she is the
Mother-of-the-Deep! He turned back to Sora. Sustain me,
Mother. He dropped to his knees and she bent so that her
nipple came to his mouth. Then, slowly, he drew her down,
suckling, until she lay on the floor.
Then Uos came to her, blood on his hands and chest.
He knelt and closed his lips on her other nipple.
Suckled thus, Sora moaned with a high bright agony,
her body stretching and twisting.
When Pol-Chi crawled away, Little Ki lifted Griron
and lay him in the crook of Soras arm and placed his mouth
to the throbbing, milk-engorged nipple. Suddenly awake, he
clutched the breast and guzzled.
When Uos crawled away, Little Ki knelt down and
presented her wide pink mouth to the throbbing, milkengorged nipple. She clutched the breast with splayed fingers
and guzzled.
Collapsed on the floor, Pol-Chi said into the tickling
fur at his mouth:
Oh, poor Hepteidon, you can never utter the truth
now.
Curled on the floor, blood clotted on his hands and
chest, a dribble at his chin, Uos asked:
Why did you not say it, faint-hearted poet?
Drowsily, Pol-Chi laughed.
You cannot utter a mystery, historian. Otherwise,
there would be no legends.

225

Griron rolled away, releasing the breast with

reluctance, pulling the throbbing gland, tipping on to the floor
with a mellow thump.
Little Ki let white milk run freely across her black face.
She thought to take Sora in her arms, embracing her,
bringing her into the warm fold of glistening, generous
amplitude.
Consumed, Sora snuggled in close, nuzzling the warm
funky flesh. The agony caused her to tremble continuously.
Hepteidon moaned. He fought the urge to look down.
Poor Sora, only in the dark will she look behind her.
But she is good, Pol-Chi. Grant her that.
I grant her everything, man of the past.

226

Chapter Fourteen
It must be now, Hepteidon. The time comes.
But, Pol-Chi, all I can see is chaos. The Armies have
disintegrated.
Ah, Hepteidon. Completion only comes at the end.
Dont you know that? Until then, there is only confusion.
How will you get them to move? They hide in their
tents all the time now in fear of Ilgem.
Pol-Chi laughed discreetly, not wishing the assembled
officers below to see or hear.
We will give them a Holy Word for a Holy Protection,
Hepteidon. Then we will make it impossible to stay.
How so? Is it magic you work, Pol-Chi?
There is no magic, High Duke, only desire.
Pol-Chi stood up and raised his arms above the sea of
yellow uniforms and armour. At once the buzz of talk
stopped.
My Lords and Chief-Commanders! Thank you for
gathering here today. I know some of you had far to travel in
the heat. You demonstrate your loyalty to your Grand High
Lord.
The reason for calling you here is simple. Some of
you perhaps have already guessed. I hope you are pleased.
But for those of you still in the dark, I will give the reason
directly, for there is otherwise much to tell.
My Lords and Chief-Commanders, the reason for
calling you here is this, we now march on the Empire of the
Dawn! In less than a month we will sit on its border!
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We go with all the power and majesty of the Empire

of the Sun. Out there are gathered the pride of the manhood
of our Empire. Over five million men under arms await our
orders. See, my Lords and Chief-Commanders, we command
such an Army! Between here and the river Sila in the north
stands the greatest Army that the men of our Age have ever
gathered. Gentlemen, it is an Army fit to conquer the world!
Pol-Chi allowed the buzz to rise and fall of its own
accord.
Even to gather here was itself a great feat. One
hundred thousand men died coming here. We hold their
memory dear, for they died as part of the effort we continue
here. Let them not be forgotten!
But think of that effort, my Lords and ChiefCommanders. Twenty-five thousand ships of the Empire
have come to this coast. Five Armies braved the seas in
coming here. Remember the ships of the Southwest Army
which foundered! Remember the valiant thousands of that
Army who died without seeing the Light of the North!
And again, my Lords and Chief-Commanders, eight
hundred thousand soldiers of the East and Southeast Armies
marched here in order. They marched across hot plains,
across deserts, mountain ranges, they marched through
steaming jungles. Gentlemen, seventy thousand men died on
those historic marches. Are they forgotten? No! They will
never be forgotten! Across the Empire, from the South and
East to the North, there lie the markers to commemorate these
marches. They are there for everyone to see!
Such, my Lords and Chief-Commanders, is the effort,
energy, and lives our Empire has expended in order that we
might gather on this coast. We are here with food for a half228

years campaigning. We have arms for a great war of

conquest. Some ask: But what do we do after the six months,
we are far from our homelands? Well, I will tell you,
gentlemen. Let the Empire of the Dawn provide!
Again Pol-Chi stepped back and allowed the excited
buzz play itself out.
You rouse them, Pol-Chi. But that is the easy part.
I give them somewhere to go in their dreams.
Pol-Chi drew a deep breath.
Now, my Lords and Chief-Commanders, we will not
ask for provision. We will take from the Empire of the Dawn
all those things we lack! We will take their food, take their
wine: we will take their gold and take their women! And, my
Lords and Chief-Commanders, we will take their land, and
we will grow fat on that land.
That is conquest! That is our right!
Pol-Chi sat down. Hepteidon leaned over and spoke
above the cheers.
Is that all?
Of course, Hepteidon.
But you know thats not enough. Not even plunder
and rape will entice the soldiers out onto the plain.
Of course it wont. But soon now our officers will
realise that, too. Then they will ask questions. With my
answers they will absorb my purpose and will become my
agents, for they will believe the solution is of their own
making.
Such cunning, my Grand High Lord.
A miracle requires great labour. Everything is
commanded by that requirement.
229

A thick soldier with iron-grey hair rose. He looked

around him slowly and the hall became quiet.
My Grand Duke, I greet you and profess my undying
loyalty.
Hepteidon nodded his head.
I hear you, my Lord Chin of the Eastern Army. You
have proved your loyalty. You may speak.
The Lord bowed stiffly.
My Grand High Lord, I am yours to command.
Pol-Chi inclined his head smartly.
My Lord Chin, your obedience gives honour to your
Army and to our Empire. Speak, you are among your kin.
The Lord bowed stiffly.
I thank you, my Grand High Lord. My Lord, as senior
Lord of the Armies, I speak on behalf of my fellow officers
gathered here.
My Lord, we command Armies in troubled times and
our soldiers, our kinsmen, are disturbed by forebodings and
fears. But I swear to you that they will fight for the glory of
our Emperor and our Empire! But, my Lord, they need
special direction. They need someone to show them the way
through the mist of their troubles. You tell us, who have clear
eyes, of the path to honour and glory. But who, my Lord, will
show them, our kinsmen, the path?
Over the cheers of support, Pol-Chi muttered,
Chin always used both feet at once. A great thing on
the battlefield, but...
My Lord Chin, tell me, where were you at the time of
the Miracle of the North?
Why, my Grand High Lord, I was in the homeland, in
the East.
230

And tell me, my Lord, where will you be at the time

of the Miracle of the East, the An-Akar?
Oh, my Grand High Lord, it is my fervent hope to be
present at the time of the An-Akar.
Good, my Lord Chin. I was present at the Miracle of
the North, when the red and yellow stars shone for us. I tell
you, my Lord Chin, there was a great storm then, and I said
to my Captains: Do not fret, Captains, the storm will cease
and we will make merriment in that space of peace. They
believed me, my Lord Chin, and out of their belief they
followed me, and after the Miracle there was the Space of
Peace.
Now, my Lords and Chief-Commanders, for I address
you all. I tell you now, at the time of the Miracle of the East,
when the An-Akar will open and reveal the truth, there will
be an end to storms and tribulations, and afterwards there will
be the Space of Peace, the Ek-Min.
Now, my Lords and Chief-Commanders, trust me as
my Captains trusted me! Comfort your men with this
assurance. Travel in trust, for after the An-Akar there will be
the Ek-Min!
Pol-Chi sat down amid the excited buzz.
The Ek-Min, Pol-Chi?
Yes, Hepteidon, in the Ek-Min, the Space of Peace,
nothing happens.
You give them a new thing, then?
I give them the oldest thing, Hepteidon.
May I ask what that is, Pol-Chi?
Its a mystery. Of course you may not ask,
Hepteidon.
231

Leaning forward as nonchalantly as he could,

Hepteidon hissed:
You make a new miracle, Pol-Chi. You make one of
your own.
Hepteidon, quiet yourself. I do what is necessary.
The chatter died down and the Lord Chin arose again.
He was less stiff now, his small dark eyes gleaming
wetly.
My Grand High Lord, you hearten us. I speak on
behalf of my fellow officers when I say this. As your
Captains in the storm of the North trusted you and were
granted presence at a great Blessing, so shall we trust and
follow you through the storm.
I thank you, my Lord Chin, and you, my Lords and
Chief-Commanders. I will not fail your trust.
We believe you, Grand High Lord. But tell us, who
are tossed in the storm, how shall we know the Space of
Peace? I ask this question not for ourselves, who follow your
command directly, but for out men, who are lost in the storm
and who do not have the reassurance of your presence.
My Lord Chin, you are a careful man. You remind
me, who now to my loss is at a remove from the great body
of the kinsmen, of something which I was in danger of
overlooking. But I will tell you how it is to be recognised.
You, in your turn, will tell our soldiers, our kinsmen.
My Lords and Chief-Commanders, the Space of Peace
is like a green field. It is fresh, young and new. It is a pasture
of plenty, it is a cool park of solace and rest. Gentlemen, it is
like a virgin, eager to greet us. It is a mantle for our bed, a
quiet place that will surround us.
232

My Lords and Chief-Commanders, I will tell you of

the necessity of this Space of Peace. Here in the North, as
some of you have witnessed, there are seasons different to the
homelands in the South. Gentlemen, here the world dies and
rests, and then is reborn! Each year there is a miracle here!
Each year the land awakens and becomes green!
Gentlemen, after the desert there is always the cool
sweet water and the fresh grass. After the fever, there is the
cool repose and recovery. After the clash of war, there is
always the arms that revive. After the death of winter, there is
always the rebirth of spring!
My Lords and Chief-Commanders, after the passage
of the An-Alcar, there will be the Ek-Min. Beyond the Door
of Death, beyond the shadows that assail us, there is the Field
of Peace, where quiet prevails, where we will rest!
Before the officers could scramble up to him, to salute
him in their enthusiasm, Hepteidon stood and said hoarsely:
You have destroyed the An-Akar, Pol-Chi. You ruin
my vision.
Be quiet, Hepteidon. There are two ways through a
door, there is going in and there is coming out. There must be
an end to ambiguity. So there is the flat space, where all will
be clear.
Why didnt you tell me this before now?
I didnt know, Hepteidon. Believe me, mysteries tell
their own legends.
Then the officers were about them, saluting, all talking
at once, their relief obvious. Pol-Chi slapped backs and dug
ribs, talking and joking with a military manliness. Near him,
Hepteidon accepted salutes and praise, smiling down from his
height. But his care not to touch or be touched was respected.
233

Pol-Chi called for wine and toasted his Armies,

shouting recklessly. In return he was toasted. Then the Grand
Duke of the North was toasted.
On Pol-Chis orders the wine was plied continuously,
and he remained among his officers, talking loudly, calling
up memories, laughing and slapping backs.
Then, as the wine flowed, he edged away, leaving the
officers among themselves, talking loudly, calling up
memories, laughing and crying by turns, and slapping backs.
Can you understand yet, Hepteidon?
I cannot, Pol-Chi. Perhaps your understanding
exceeds mine.
Perhaps, Hepteidon. But you did ask me to do what
you could not do yourself, didnt you?
Ive made a mistake, havent I, Pol-Chi?
You always did think too much, theologian. Thinking
it does not make it so.
But it was so obvious. Even the Emperor, my father,
recognised the need.
No one disputes that, Intended. But you allowed
yourself to be seduced by the illusion. Look what happens.
You lose your power to create.
Ah, I remember that, Pol-Chi. Tell me, what lies
beyond the next illusion, the Ek-Min?
I dont know. The Ek-Min must be exhausted first.
Someday, nothing will lie behind the illusion.
Then?
Nothing, of course. Cant you even see that?
But there is always something.
Yes, Hepteidon, the dark some-thing, the bright
nothing.
234

Paradoxes again. There must be an end to paradox,

Pol-Chi. I suffer too much in the name of paradox.
Paradox is your middle name, Hepteidon.
How so, Pol-Chi? More mystery?
No, Hepteidon. A riddle. Who pisses like a woman,
squatting in the ditch, but cant take it up?
Youre cruel, Pol-Chi.
Are you happy, my Lord Duke?
What is happiness? Answer me that riddle, Pol-Chi.
No riddle, Hepteidon. Happiness is a god.
What do you say, Pol-Chi?
Happiness cannot know itself, Hepteidon. Its like a
black cow lying in the sun, warming its wide haunches.
But a god, Pol-Chi? You blaspheme!
Ho-ho, Hepteidon. Do I reveal secrets?
You touch on a powerful thing. Be careful. You are
my friend.
Who is the Beast, Hepteidon? You tell me a secret
now.
They say, the soldiers out on the plain, that the Beast
has five million heads and five million swords.
Who are they to know, who squat so low?
That is what they believe, Pol-Chi. You said belief
was the important thing.
Ha. That was before the act, Hepteidon. These are the
days of action. The days when there is no longer anything to
be done.
Why didnt you explain these things to me, Pol-Chi?
Why did you let me do wrong?
You did right, Merura Intended. Do we not have a
gathering?
235

Is that all I am to do?

Remember you are a slave now, Man in the Middle.
You are commanded now.
Ive been tricked! I sought a god, Pol-Chi. What do
you give me?
You sought your shadow. I give you the death of your
shadow. I do for you what you cannot do for yourself...Tell
me, Man who murdered for love, who is the Chosen?
They say that the Chosen brings...Pol-Chi, they say he
brings new life!
What else could they say? They always want something for no-thing.
What does he bring, Pol-Chi? I am afraid now. You
break my foundations.
Ah, Man-in-the-Abyss, what else could the Chosen
bring? He brings men their truth.
What is that, Pol-Chi?
Oh, Hepteidon. If I knew, what need would we have
for the Chosen?
I am horribly lonely, Pol-Chi, my friend. I am
burdened.
You live yet, Hepteidon. Your burden is not great
yet.
The burden of my error is great, Pol-Chi.
Why do you deny yourself? They are your actions that
you call error. Name your burden!
Kandrigi!
Name your burden!
No! I stop at the death of Kandrigi. I am a murderer.
Name your burden, Man-in-the-Middle!
No! I stop...Pol-Chi, there is no name there!
236

Name your burden!

Oh, the name! The Name! Pol-Chi, who is my
Master?
Your Master is the Shadow, whose tail you chase.
Pol-Chi, who denies my Master?
You do!
You give me an impossibility, Pol-Chi.
I will give you another impossibility.
Dont, Pol-Chi. If you love me, dont.
I dont love you, Man-who-murdered-for-love. Here.
The impossibility. Tell your Master to kill you!
Hepteidon screamed in Pol-Chis face:
Kandrigi refused!
Pol-Chi remained unperturbed.
So what, Refuser? Willing it didnt make it so, either.
He died for his refusal!
And yet you cannot! Laugh, Hepteidon. There is
always a joke here. You can only refuse to die. Yet you
cannot live, Man-in-the-Middle. You can neither come nor
go.
Pol-Chi, unburden me. Please. I drown in my fear!
Hepteidon, for friendship I tell you: Kill your Master!
I cannot kill a god, Pol-Chi. You ask me to undo the
world.
There is no will in that undoing, Seeker-of-Gods.
Your God is but a shadow!
I cannot kill my God. I have not the command.
Then tell your God to kill you. Release your God to
us!
No! I cannot.
237

Then I will do it, sweet Astronomer. Here, I do it:

God-of-no-name! Kill your slave who once murdered you!
What do you do to me, Pol-Chi? I have sought love, as
you did. Why do you not forgive me?
Where did you seek love? Where did you seek
forgiveness?
Pol-Chi, you know where I sought love.
Again, Divine Slave, willing does not make it so.
But I submitted!
You submitted to an illusion. As always, SymbolMaker.
Dont say that! I followed your tracks.
My tracks! Who cares where Ilgem has been? Only its
destination is sought.
I am afraid, Pol-Chi. At least pity me.
No pity. You murdered for love. You did not pity.
Pol-Chi, I see the end. Kill my God!
But I dont know your God, Theologian.
I will show him to you, Pol-Chi. Only kill him. Take
Korkungals sword.
Pol-Chi grasped the warm handle.
Show him to me now, Hepteidon.
Come.
Hepteidon led him down the hall, past the remaining
officers, who, however, were too maudlin to notice their
departure. Out in the sun, Hepteidon led Pol-Chi around the
once-temple to the space between it and the stockade.
Hepteidon knelt at an angle to Pol-Chi.
I show you my God, Pol-Chi.

238

He bent his head and parted his long hair to expose his
neck. Three vertebrae jutted in the smooth red skin. His voice
muffled, he said.
See, my God rides me, Pol-Chi.
Ah, but Hepteidon, why burden me? I am not your
slave. Will this death.
I, too, am a slave, Pol-Chi. I cannot command my
God.
Then beseech it of your God. Tell him to order your
death.
I cannot. My will is incapable. I cannot demand of my
Master.
Then I again call on your God to kill you.
A shadow fell across Hepteidons back. Sora carried
Griron, straddling her hip.
He wants me to kill his god, Sora. But it is an
unnecessary burden. He cannot see that.
Sora nodded and looked to one side, behind Pol-Chi.
Little Ki stood regarding Hepteidon, arms folded under her
breasts.
Hepteidon was once a man, Pol-Chi. Make him a man
again.
You are as wise as ever, Sora my lovely.
An Emperor cannot will his own death, Little Ki said
softly.
Ah, Beautiful Lady, but a man can do what an
Emperor cannot. Isnt that right, Hepteidon? You talk now
only of gods and slaves, not of men. Why is that?
Men cringe as slaves now, Pol-Chi.
Were men ever otherwise, good Hepteidon?
No.
239

Will you be a man, Hepteidon?

I cannot. The fear is too great.
Hepteidon. Look at me. I make you a man. Here, take
a mans sword. He did not fear or cringe. You know that.
Hepteidon took the sword.
Remember Korkungal, Hepteidon.
Pol-Chi walked away. Little Ki turned to look after
him, then said to Sora,
I want to see what a man is like, slender one. I have
known only Lords, who command, and slaves, who are
commanded. I want to see a man command himself.
Sora nodded and followed Pol-Chi into the living
quarter of the once-temple.
He sat on her cot. Sora put Griron down and he
immediately crawled over to Pol-Chi. He sat looking up at
him, a serious, quizzical expression in his eyes.
Pol-Chi cried. Sora sat patiently beside him, looking at
Griron. When the tears were exhausted, he said,
I saw once that Hepteidon had loved, Sora. His god
made him betray the father-man he loved, Korkungals priest.
That was a great burden. It unmanned him, Sora. He looked
into her face. Can you see that, Sora?
Uos came in and sat on the floor beside Griron.
You cry for Hepteidon, Pol-Chi?
What does he do now, old man? Uos shrugged.
He talks to his god. He thinks his god is in
Korkungals sword. He strives to command him.
He is not a man, Sora. Can you see it now?
Uos looked from Sora to Pol-Chi with a clouded look.
What did you do, Pol-Chi?
I made him a man, Uos. Sora told me to.
240

Sora, you dont have the care of Hepteidon, you know

that. This burden will kill him.
Pol-Chi leaned down, glancing momentarily at
Grirons wide open eyes before looking at Uos.
Uos, he wants me to kill his god. I cannot kill what is
already dead.
Dead? What is dead, Pol-Chi? He calls his god now.
His god commanded him to murder love, Uos. Can
you see that? You know the mysteries. Hepteidon is now the
One-in-the-Middle. He seeks love in death. I gave him the
power to seek that love now.
Uos shook his head sadly.
Oh, Pol-Chi, you make a great mistake. Why do you
still hide behind Sora?
I have given her my love, old man.
Did the yellow star teach you nothing, once-poet? Did
the embrace of the goddess not tell you, Divine Lover?
I know what I was taught, mystery man. I was taught
that the goddess has a cold heart.
And?
At the proper time.
So you know, miracle man? But what of Hepteidon
now? He gave me this message for you. He said, Tell my
god that I did one thing for him that no other could do. I
saved men.
Ah, I remember. He went across to the other ship. But
that was only rivalry with Korkungal.
Uos suddenly shook Pol-Chis knee.
But dont you see yet, Pol-Chi? Hepteidon thought
Korkungal was the Beast. He was the old god, the one who
241

was indifferent to Kandrigis death; the one who destroyed

men.
Pol-Chi sat erect, tensed to move.
What else, wise old man?
You know. But I will tell you. You are his Chosen.
You are his new god. He says you bring truth. He says he
seeks this truth with love.
Pol-Chi leaped up and ran out of the room and down
the corridor.
Little Ki knelt beside Hepteidon, who sat looking at the
sword on the ground before him. She caressed his long hair.
She looked up at Pol-Chi.
Who do I serve, Lord or God?
Who do you love, Imperial Pet?
I cannot love, Dark God. I can only serve.
Watch. I will teach you how to love, Beautiful
Woman.
Pol-Chi knelt in front of Hepteidon.
What do you seek, Man-in-the-Abyss?
I seek death.
What do you seek, Man-in-the-Abyss?
I seek love.
Why do you seek love, Man-in-the-Abyss?
For the truth.
What is the truth, Man-in-the-Abyss?
I tell you, Pol-Chi. The earth moves. I have seen this
in my study of Ilgem. Nothing is fixed. All is motion. That is
freedom.
Then you are free, Hepteidon. What do you need of
love now?
Nothing.
242

Hepteidon picked up the sword. Carefully he placed

the point between his ribs at his heart, then lowered the hilt to
the ground.
I thank you, Pol-Chi.
And drove his whole weight down on the point.
Youve let him kill himself, Little Ki said in wonder.
Pol-Chi smiled benignly.
There is no death, Little Ki.

243

Part Three: The Ek-Min

244

Chapter Fifteen.
Pol-Chi stood on the brow of the low hill and looked
down into the yellow mist on the broad river. To the yellow
clad soldiers behind him, he said.
This is the place. Pitch the tents along here.
He swept his arm out along the brow. Then he ran
down the hill, jumping and driving through the high yellowbrown grass, skirting bushes and trees.
The riders came forward at his command.
Along the river on either side of here. Tell the Army
Lords to maintain the disposition as they approach. This is
important. There is to be no manoeuvring for central position.
Tell them I expect them here tomorrow night. They must
approach in order, under strict march, with banners and
pennants unfurled. Now, ride!
He watched them jostle and turn in a body. Dust hung
in the air behind the galloping hooves. Then he turned back
and looked up the hill.
Above the brow of the hill hung Ilgem, half the size of
the moon, gibbous and yellow.
Pol-Chi raised his arms to Ilgem.
Soon, star-with-no-name. Now are the Last Days. The
days when there is nothing to be done.
He laughed loudly in the cool dawn air. His laughter
was swallowed up in the stillness.
He set off across the slope of the hill, climbing towards
the huddled group of pack-horse handlers.
Good morning, soldiers.
245

They were seated around a small fire, eating. Seeing

their leader, they began to scramble up.
Hey! At ease.
Will you eat with us, my Lord?
He went round and slapped the speaker on the
shoulder.
How did you know I was hungry, kinsman?
He squatted into the circle and accepted a bowl of hot
meal and began to eat, shovelling the thick porridge up with
his fingertips. Around him, the soldiers crouched and ate,
shovelling the porridge with the same rapidity.
When they had eaten, they sat back, rubbing their
mouths, belching, engorged on the solid mass of food. PolChi also wiped his mouth and belched, feeling the heavy heat
suffuse him.
They were silent, waiting his pleasure.
A fine spot, eh? He looked around at each of them.
The river is the boundary of the Empire of the Dawn,
my Lord? the leader of the troop asked tentatively.
And the boundary of the Empire of the Sun, kinsman.
An old soldier, a scar running down from his ear to his
mouth, cocked his head.
Then we do invade, my Lord?
Pol-Chi regarded him with humour.
Why not, grandfather? Isnt that why weve come
here?
The old soldier glanced up at Ilgem and said
laconically.
What will we find over there that we havent found
here, my Lord?
Pol-Chi laughed outright.
246

A good question, grandfather. Is there anything new

under the sun?
A number of soldiers glanced up at Ilgem. One of them
spoke in a low voice.
There is, my Lord. There is Binin, the Harvester.
Then its a great thing when something new is seen,
soldiers who have travelled the world.
A soldier spat into the fire. The sizzle was loud.
Weve come a long way to see this new thing, my
Lord.
Pol-Chi stabbed his thumb at the sky.
Do you think that is the new thing, kinsman?
Another voice filled the gap.
Tell us of the new thing.
I will. But one of you tell me this first: Where are
we?
In the silence the soldiers looked at one another, but
avoided Pol-Chis eyes.
Come on, kinsmen. You know better than I do.
An earnest-looking young soldier plucked a blade of
grass. Having drawn their attention thus, he squinted at PolChi.
Ill tell you. Some will tell you that we are at the
beginning of an invasion of the Empire of the Dawn. Some
really believe that. Others will say that this is the An-Akar,
the Gate of Death. Here they expect to die, but few will say
how they will die.
And what do you say, nephew?
I say were far from home.

247

The soldiers laughed at the youths temerity. In the

easing atmosphere, Pol-Chi also laughed, shaking his head as
though agreeing that he had walked into that trap.
But, encouraged by the new easiness, a beefy soldier
with thin straggling hair said, as though to the other soldiers.
But wheres home now, friends?
Many nodded at this, glancing slyly to see how their
Lord took it. Seeing him laugh easily, others were stimulated
to have their say.
One said, shouting above the general laughter:
Home is where I sit my bum, friends.
And another rejoined immediately:
Well, its not my arse that finds home for me!
He patted his balls with an obsessive high-pitched
laugh.
Across the fire, the simple-looking youth explained to
Pol-Chi:
Gar always finds a home to go to at night.
The laughter took on an edge of ridicule, and Gar
began to look sheepish. The soldiers on either side of him
started to thump his arms and back.
And he doesnt care what kind of hole he finds for the
night either!
Pol-Chi laughed with the soldiers until the cruel
merriment eased. One by one the soldiers realised that the
question had not been answered.
The simple-looking youth, having already addressed
Pol-Chi, found it easier than the others to address him
directly again.
Is it true that we can pass through the An-Akar, Lord?
Do you bring us a new life?
248

The profound silence showed that their chief

preoccupation had been voiced.
Pol-Chi now cocked his head at them.
If you dont know, kinsmen, how should I know?
The old soldier stared hard into the fire.
See! Weve been brought here to give us something to
do.
What would you have done in the homeland,
grandfather? Tilled the land for the next harvest?
There was a chill in the silence. A middle-aged soldier,
an An-Akar amulet prominent on his chest, asked softly:
This miracle you bring, my Lord, is it for the whole
world?
You think of your wife, cousin?
Aye, and my four children, my Lord. What point is
there to this...this miracle if there is nothing to go back to?
Another leaned forward and said eagerly.
Yes, my Lord. What use are five million men in a
world without women?
Pol-Chi held up his hand. The soldiers quietened
immediately.
Kinsmen, I will tell you this. No miracle comes to the
world. He had to raise his voice above the buzz of
disappointment and incipient anger. The miracle, as it is
called, has always been here.
Now the buzz became one of puzzlement. Voices
called, but only after the question was asked by a number of
soldiers, did one of them focus it distinctly:
What miracle is that, my Lord?
The note of scepticism was balanced by a quality of
habitual patience.
249

Why, kinsmen, look at yourselves.

Their attention fragmented as they reacted with a
practiced dismissal of all cant.
Pol-Chi swept his hand at them, Who are you,
kinsmen?
Only one soldier volunteered an answer, speaking in a
surly tone.
We are Imperial soldiers.
I ask you again, kinsmen. Who are you?
One spat back.
We are men.
Once more, kinsmen, the third time. Who are you?
The silence was one of obstinate sullenness. But their
minds, pressing against what they did not know, were blank
and open.
Well, then, Ill tell you, kinsmen. You are living men!
The initial reaction was that of scepticism. Then the
simple-looking soldier was foolish enough to ask the obvious
question:
What do you mean by living, my Lord?
Thats no secret, good nephew. Look at yourself and
youll see what I mean. All of you!
The simple-looking soldier gaped, then shouted a
laugh, then looked down at himself.
The other soldiers had been watching his reactions,
prepared at first to laugh at him, then to laugh with him. But
when he looked down at himself, they suddenly felt numbed.
It was as though the simple-looking soldier had disappeared.
In that chasm there was only one thing to do.
But when they looked at Pol-Chi, they discovered that
he was looking at himself.
250

And looking at one another did not help. In each

others eyes they saw the edge of the chasm. Even the world
around them, some discovered, the hill side, the trees and
bushes, the yellow-brown slope opposite rising to the plain in
the west, was hollow, a growing void.
There was only one thing to do. Each soldier looked at
himself. The simple-looking soldiers naivety brought him to
the discovery first. He suddenly shouted, raising his head, his
eyes wide and sightless:
I see it!
Some soldiers, distracted, looked up, a superstitious
thrill exciting them.
Pol-Chi spoke in his most sonorous tone:
Kinsmen, when a living man looks at the nothingness
of the end, he sees one thing. Look!
The soldier with the amulet raised his eyes to Pol-Chi,
mouth open, head moving in agreement. Pol-Chi put his
finger to his lips.
But remember, kinsmen, what you see is
unspeakable.
Another soldier looked up at the fire. His face showed
a total repose. Another tumbled over sideways and lay
bundled, eyes open, snoring noisily.
Love what you find there, kinsmen.
Helped thus, a soldier stood up and simply walked
away, flexing his fingers, staring at his jerking fingers.
Believe what you see there, kinsmen. There is no other
truth.
The simple-looking soldier leaned over, his eyes
bright.
Is this the Ek-Min, my Lord?
251

What else, kinsman? Where else did you expect to

find spring in high summer?
To his right, a soldier laughed contentedly at this. PolChi pushed himself up. As he moved away, the old soldier
said behind him:
My Lord, what if this is not the truth?
Pol-Chi turned to face him.
And what if it is not, grandfather?
What do we do then, my Lord? I seek your guidance,
that is all. In all my years, my Lord, I have never seen a truth.
Why should I see one now?
When else would you see one, grandfather, except at
the end?
But, my Lord, the old soldier suddenly pleaded.
What if it is not true?
Well, then, grandfather, do what you can. Seek
elsewhere.
But, my Lord, there is nowhere else to seek.
Then the truth must be here.
But what if there is no truth at all?
Grandfather, there is a truth in that.
The old soldier wrinkled his brow. Some of the
soldiers were glaring at him, seeing him the boring old fart he
usually was. But others watched Pol-Chi, their scepticism
revived.
A play with words, my Lord. A note of malicious
triumph crept into his voice. Can you not answer my
question, miracle worker?
Pol-Chi walked back to the circle around the fire. Ill
answer your question, grandfather, again. If there is no truth
252

at all, then there is only nothing, I leave you to find

something in nothing, grandfather.
Some soldiers tittered.
But can you not give us the truth, my Lord? They say
you gave truth in the North? Why cant you give us a truth
now?
More soldiers were looking up at Pol-Chi.
Ill give you a truth, grandfather. Watch.
Pol-Chi bent quickly and found a twig of kindling
wood. He raised it to eye level.
The old soldier watched, his expression balanced
between credulity and cynicism.
Pol-Chi snapped the twig in halves and held the two
pieces apart.
There, grandfather. A truth.
The old soldier was angry in his disappointment.
My Lord plays tricks.
There is a truth there, grandfather. Deny it.
But...
But, yourself, you old dosser. An act broke the stick.
The truth lies in the act, not in the breaking or the piece of
wood. And it does not lie in me.
Then where does it lie, my Lord? The old soldier
asked with cunning.
In the act itself, old man.
But where is the act?
Ah, grandfather. I told you I was giving you a truth.
Did you think I would put it inside your head for you, to save
you the trouble? You didnt seek the truth when I showed you
one. Pol-Chi looked at the other soldiers, to draw their full
attention. Only half of them were actually watching. Two
253

more had walked away, and now two lay on the ground in
trances. If I were to stop Binin in its tracks, you would think
it a great miracle. Wouldnt you, grandfather? You would,
you miserable old ballocks. You want something for nothing.
But let me tell you, if I were to stop Binin, you might call it a
miracle, but would you call it a truth? No, youd go back to
grumbling about the food, or the weather, or the work you
had to do.
Grandfather, therell be no truth for you until you see
the truth in yourself. Until then, Ive no truth for you.
Pol-Chi turned and walked quickly away, blindly
pushing through the grass at first, but then arcing down
towards the column approaching from the vest.
A stream of abuse followed him. It was suddenly cut
off and the bustle of fighting came instead.
Pol-Chi jumped from tuft to tuft across the marshy
strip at the bottom of the hill. Two birds took flight from a
nearby pool, and Pol-Chi watched with surprise as they flew
off, skimming the slope of the hill, then follow the river
north.
The land inclined slightly, rising from the river to the
level of the Grasslands. The column was trailing over the
skyline, coming down the incline, heading towards the
picketed pack-horses over to Pol-Chis right, below the
soldiers campfire.
An outrider spotted him and wheeled his horse and
galloped over, kicking up the fine yellow dust of the plain.
The rider was crouched low behind his mounts straining
head, urging it on with frenetically beating heels. Only at the
last moment was the horse checked, and it came to a stiff254

legged, shuddering halt in front of Pol-Chi, a cloud of dust

billowing forward to enclose Pol-Chi and the rider.
Pol-Chi held his place and peered through his lashes at
the rider. When he saw the grinning tanned face lurking in the
dust, he exclaimed:
A Savage?
The Man of the Grasslands laughed happily at being
recognised and turned his horse with a savage tug and
presented himself openly to Pol-Chi.
Are you Karusals kin, Man?
The Savage nodded, concentrating on quietening his
horse. When he had dismounted, Pol-Chi went forward.
What are you doing here? You know the Imperial
soldiers hunt you still.
The Savage nodded humorously and said,
Where else is there to go, Great High Lord?
Has Karusal come?
The Savage continued to smile.
Karusal is dead, High Lord. Manosur says that his
curiosity finally got the better of him. Manosur leads us now.
Is he here?
He is with your High Priest-Magician. He brings you
a message.
I will come.
The Savage stepped back and offered Pol-Chi his
mount.
Will it take us both?
Only if we do not gallop.
Then let it walk.
Pol-Chi leaped up behind the Savage. Despite what he
had said, he drove the horse over to the column at full gallop.
255

Manosur and Uos turned their horses out of the

column as Pol-Chi and the Savage approached. They
dismounted and waited.
Manosur! It is good to see you again.
The Savage remained by his horse and asked,
How do I address you? You are the leader of the
greatest army I have ever seen. A whole nation in a line. He
laughed loudly. I am the leader of a family only.
Out here, Manosur, I am Pol-Chi to my peers.
Ah, Pol-Chi, that is magnanimous.
Perhaps, Manosur. But the friends of Korkungal the
Brigan will always have a claim on me.
Now Manosur came forward and grasped Pol-Chis
shoulders and drew him in to his chest.
Uos? You dont happen to have...?
Uos grinned and went around his horse.
Will we sit, Manosur? How many are you here?
Myself and Tirbad, he nodded to Pol-Chis left.
Tirbad, I am Pol-Chi. Thank you for bringing me. Join
us now. The Guests offer hospitality to the Men of the
Grasslands.
Tirbad grinned.
Greetings, Pol-Chi, I thank you for your hospitality.
Manosur eyed the satchel in Uos hand and said.
There are many in the Grasslands now, blackman.
Many tracks and many houses. But little food now.
Pol-Chi nodded.
It is a hard country.
Manosur looked around him.
It is a beautiful country.
A still place, Manosur.
256

Ah, you know that.

Uos passed out cups and poured wine. They sat in a
circle and drank.
This is not beer, Pol-Chi. It eats my mouth.
It is wine, from the south. It will ease your heart.
They drank again and Uos poured again.
How is it with your kin in these strange times,
Manosur?
As with all the peoples of this land, Pol-Chi. Broken.
Perhaps it is inevitable. We had long known that there existed
a man in the south who wished to rule the world. We knew he
would be powerful.
Have we conquered you, Manosur?
You have taken the land and our food. Your cities and
forts grow on the coast. You lay many tracks.
But you still have a hidden place?
Manosur laughed.
There are many hidden places, Pol-Chi. Your armies
go east in line, so we go south and north.
Pol-Chi glanced at Uos.
It will not be for long, Manosur.
The Savages are well aware of that, Pol-Chi, Uos
said evenly.
Manosur looked up at Ilgem, which was paling in the
light of the early sun.
The sky will fall soon, men of the south. Few will
escape that.
Pol-Chi leaned forward.
Few? How could any man escape it, Manosur.
Manosur shook his head at Pol-Chis curiosity,
laughing again.
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Do you think this is the first time the sky has fallen,
Pol-Chi? Everything has its end, even our present sky.
And men survive?
A few, Pol-Chi.
How is that, Manosur? I know of a few men who will
survive, but they are deep in the earth.
Intensely curious, Manosur now leaned forward.
In the earth, Pol-Chi? I have never heard of such a
thing. But that is good to hear. That is ingenious.
Perhaps. They hide in caves. They live in these caves,
Manosur. They survive all the Ages.
Ah. That is heartening, Pol-Chi. It is good to hear that
men can do that.
Perhaps, Manosur. But tell me, how do the few
survive?
Topar protects them, Pol-Chi. After all, he is our
God.
Pol-Chi glanced at Uos and then at the Savage.
The Lair of the Dragon!
But Manosur laughed, looking slyly from Uos to PolChi and back again.
The Dragon? Oh, no, Pol-Chi. The Dragon looks after
its own kind alone. The Men must find the protection in the
arms of Topar and not look to the Dragon.
They climb high into the mountains, then, Manosur?
Uos asked in a persuasive voice.
There are caves there, priest-magician. He paused,
and looked keenly at Uos and Pol-Chi. Do you seek the
protection of Topar? He spoke softly. You are friends of the
Brigan, who gave much joy to my family.
Pol-Chi looked at the ground.
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But it is far from here, Manosur. The new guest is

nigh.
Travelling light, day and night, it would not take long.
The priest says the guest will arrive soon.
Pol-Chi looked up.
You do not seek Topars protection?
We will travel fast, Pol-Chi. We are used to this
country.
Then, my friends, you should be on your way.
Manosur gestured helplessly.
The priest, Tantor, sends us to you. He has had
another dream.
Tell me this dream now, Manosur. Then your
obligation is at an end.
Very well, Tantor tells you that he saw a green field
turn to stone. He wishes you to know this. He says you seek
foolishly. There! Pol-Chi, that is his message.
Pol-Chi bowed low, studying the blades of grass and
yellow dust at his feet.
Tell Tantor that I thank him from the bottom of his
heart. Tell him this, tell him that it is the foolishness of men
which requires the green field. In their fear, they will see
only...well, see only stone.
Then you already know this, dreamer?
Manosur did not hide his disappointment.
Oh no, Manosur. You bring valuable information.
Tantor tells me about the desire of men. I am grateful for
that. Again, Pol-Chi looked at the ground. In return, tell
Tantor this, the woman-being has a cold heart. Tell him that
men have made it so.
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The woman-being has a cold heart. Men have made it

so, Manosur repeated. He shook his head. You are a fighter,
Pol-Chi, yet you are as strange as a priest.
He got to his feet with agility. Tirbad followed him.
When Pol-Chi and Uos were facing him, Manosur leaned
his head forward and said in a low voice.
Will you come with me, men of the south? Bring the
women and the boy. They will be welcome. He paused.
Lovely Sora I know, but your woman, Pol-Chi, she radiates
a rich pleasure,
Pol-Chi shook his head.
Stay for a while, Manosur. No man should be
deprived of pleasure.
It was Manosurs turn to shake his head.
We must go, Pol-Chi. It grows late. But come with us.
Now that you know this foolishness of mens desire, what
need is there to stay?
The work is not done here, Manosur. But I thank you
for your offer.
You must be a great saint, Pol-Chi, to offer yourself to
such foolishness. They will have their stone whether you stay
or not.
Pol-Chi smiled warmly.
Tell me, Manosur, do you know what lies beyond the
stone?
No, Pol-Chi. But, then, I am not curious.
Pol-Chi accompanied him to his horse.
I will tell you anyway. Beyond the stone lies the secret
of man. But the secret lies before it too.
Manosur swung up into the saddle.
Then you have hope, miracle worker.
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Pol-Chi held Manosurs reins to detain him a little

longer.
There is no need for hope, Manosur, for I am not a
miracle man. I bring truth, for which no hope is required.
Curious, Manosur leaned down.
What is required, then, truth-bringer?
Clear eyes!
Pol-Chi laughed loudly and slapped Manosurs horse.
He called after him, Blessings on the next Age!
Both Manosur and Tirbad looked back, waving,
laughing wildly. They charged through the passing column,
swerving skilfully, and galloped up the incline, a trail of dust
rising behind them.
On the skyline they paused, rearing their horses in
salute, and then turned and galloped out of sight.
Pol-Chi held his empty cup out to Uos, who filled it.
The Lair of the Dragon? Pol-Chi mused.
Men die of the green sickness there, Pol-Chi. You
know that, Uos said, bending for his own cup.
Green sickness, Uos. Do I see an omen there?
There are omens everywhere, Pol-Chi. Youve said it
yourself.
Pol-Chi raised his cup to Uos.
I give you another omen, Uos. This morning two
birds flew out from under my feet. They flew north.
Uos took a long drink. Then he wiped his mouth.
The Savages fly north now. It was they who were
presaged, Pol-Chi.
Perhaps, Uos. But birds fly, in the air.
You must allow for analogy, Pol-Chi. You know that.
Pol-Chi handed Uos the wine cup.
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Ill tell you what I think, Uos. There are three things
in my mind which I cannot plausibly tie together, things
which come from three different sources. The Savages say
that the Dragon flies up to the stars. The archivists told you
that men have flown to the stars. And Hepteidon once said
that the prophecy he heard contained no superstition.
Hepteidon was a man of science, as you know, so such a
judgment is to be taken seriously.
Uos busied himself with his satchel, speaking in a
muffled voice.
How do you tie these three threads together, Pol-Chi?
Ha, Uos, only by a foolish hope.
Now Uos looked sharply at Pol-Chi.
Tell me, Pol-Chi. I am deeply interested.
Pol-Chi began to walk away.
No, Uos. It contains too much sadness. He looked
back. I want no part of it.
Uos grabbed the reins of his horse and tugged it to
follow him.
No part in what, Pol-Chi?
In the truth, Uos.
Pol-Chi, what truth?
Turning, arms akimbo, Pol-Chi shouted across the
intervening expanse of dry yellow-brown grass:
There are men in the stars.
Uos ran after him, pulling the horse and stumbling.
Where is the sadness in that, Pol-Chi?
Sweeping his hand towards the skyline above, Pol-Chi
shouted bitterly.
What of all these millions on earth, Uos? They are
left to seek a miracle only!
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Chapter Sixteen
Lords, Officers, and soldiers of the Hu-An-Akar.
Greetings from your kinsman Pol-Chi, Grand High Lord.
Kinsmen, I greet you on your arrival at the site of the
End. before you is the An-Akar, which rises like a yellow mist
in the morning, obscuring strange new countries, hiding the
new place from your eyes.
Kinsmen, how do we clear this fog from our eyes? How
do we pass through the An-Akar, the Gate of Shadows, the
Gate of Death? I will speak to you plainly, for in the Last
Days only honesty is possible. There is no future for lies or
manoeuvres.
Kinsmen, how do we remove this fog? I will tell you.
There must be a miracle! There must be a new thing among
men. You all look now upon the yellow mist, what is this
yellow mist? It is the foolishness of our thoughts. It is the
compulsion of our wills! It is the blindness of our desires!
Kinsmen, we must here have an end to this foolishness,
to this compulsion, to this blindness. We must strive, now that
we face the yellow mist of the An-Akar in the Last Days of
man, to put an end to thought, to will, even to desire.
Kinsmen, you must understand this: thinking does not
make it so; willing does not make it so nor does desire make
it so.
Kinsmen, you must understand this: There is nothing to
be done! In the Last Days of man, at the entrance to the AnAkar, there is no longer time or place; there is no future;
there is no hope. There is absolutely nothing to be done.
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Kinsmen, stand now before the yellow mist of the AnAkar and understand what I, your leader and guide, tell you:
Think of nothing, strive for nothing, desire for nothing.
Kinsmen, tell yourself that your past is nothing, that your
world is nothing, your future is nothing.
Kinsmen, tell yourselves this last thing. This is the final
thing to tell yourselves: I AM NOTHING!
Kinsmen, trust me, your guide, when I tell you these
things. Only by becoming nothing will the new thing appear
among men. Only in this way will the yellow mist disappear,
and the An-Akar be passed.
Kinsmen, this is the miracle you seek!
Become nothing and you will see all there is to be
seen!
Then look, Kinsmen, and behold the truth of men.
See into the Ek-Min, Kinsmen. See the Green Field of
Peace!
My Lord?
When Little Ki saw that she had finally attracted PolChis attention, she rolled over on the bed of skins and
pillows, carefully lifting and then settling her breasts, so that
both lolled down one over the other, without dragging on her
shoulders unduly.
Pol-Chi dismissed the scribe and put his hands on his
knees.
My Lord, why do you not tell them that there is no
death?
Why, Slave, telling does not make it true.
But I believe you.
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But you are a slave, Luxurious Pet.

Little Ki looked down at her body in reaction. She
spoke with a defensive meekness:
Yet I do believe you, my Lord.
Ah, Slave, but do you believe yourself?
Little Ki thought.
But, my Lord, I am the belief you give me, in the
same way that I am the attention you give me, and the
pleasure you give me.
Do I give you pleasure, Pet?
Ah, my Lord. No slave should acknowledge it, for it is
not important. What a slave thinks, or feels or desires is of no
importance.
That is true, Black Beauty. Yet you make it so. Why?
My Lord, once you made me happy. Insignificantly
happy, perhaps. But you took away my fear. Then you made
me useful and so satisfied me. Again, this was an
insignificant satisfaction, a matter for myself alone. But, my
Lord, you gave these things to me. They were expressions of
your magnanimity.
Pol-Chi laughed, slapping his knee, gazing warmly at
Little Ki in the low light of a single oil lamp. She glistened in
curvaceous outline on the pale skins, the tent-wall a
shadowed undetermined backdrop to the pool of soft
reflected light that surrounded her.
Perhaps, Imperial Slave. I am an inexperienced
master. I dont know how to treat slaves properly. Perhaps
you should have taught me.
But, my Lord, slaves cannot teach. By definition, only
the higher can teach the lower.
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But surely an experienced slave can show by her

actions what is to be done?
Little Ki looked down again and seemed to regard her
right nipple. When she raised her head again, her expression
was clouded.
My Lord, there are two other things you gave me. I
must list these before I can answer your question. You gave
me a great truth. You told me that there is no death. Also, and
it is this I want to emphasise now, you gave me knowledge of
freedom. I saw you give Hepteidon his freedom. And I saw
what be did once he had this freedom. May I continue?
Pol-Chi nodded, leaning towards her.
Thank you, my Lord. Now this knowledge of freedom
raises many questions in me. In the first place, I asked
myself, why did death follow the gift of freedom in
Hepteidons case? Here I believe that, somehow, Hepteidon
in accepting his freedom could come to accept his death. In
that belief, I ask myself if in accepting my freedom, will I
then accept my death?
Little Ki, you must understand the limitations between
men, and between women, and between men and woman. I
did not give Hepteidon his freedom. I merely gave him the
truth he sought. For another man or woman, for you, the truth
could be different. But the important thing is that for all the
truth is the same in a fundamental way. Hepteidon sought the
truth in an idea of freedom that would release him from his
particular bondage. In his freedom, he dies in order to seek
love.
Ah, my Lord, forgive me if I interrupt. You say he
sought love. You told me that you wanted to show me love
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when you returned to speak to Hepteidon. Is love the truth,

then?
No, Little Ki. Love is but a mirror. Hepteidon seeks
love because he thinks it is the truth. This is true in a way.
But it is the final illusion for many like him. He seeks an
ultimate symbol which, by being ultimate, is permanent and
eternal. My Pet, Hepteidon died for this illusion. His final
living act was to run away from the freedom he himself
discovered.
My Lord, what you say frightens me.
Pol-Chi scrambled over to her and held her uppermost
shoulder, sinking his fingers into her deep flesh.
No, Little Ki, dont take on another mans fear.
Hepteidons training compelled him to seek a final truth that
was of the intellect, a static truth. For him the mirroring of
man by man, as love, is that static truth. Others, more
presumptuous, like the poet, seek it on a higher level. They
seek to find man mirrored in divinity. The poet seeks to find
the stasis in the embrace of the goddess.
My Lord, what does the slave seek?
Her master.
Is this a static truth?
Pol-Chi smiled at her.
In one way, yes, but in another way, no. Tell me,
Little Ki, why did the Emperor tell Hsin to die?
Little Ki showed surprise at the question.
Hsin? He was the perfect slave, my Lord. He allowed
his will, and thus his whole life and fate, to be constituted by
his masters will. Hsin told Hepteidon that the Emperor
willed his death because he momentarily forgot he was a
slave.
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And because?
Little Kis eyes widened. She finally broke her gaze
and looked down at her body.
And because, Imperial Slave?
She tensed her shoulders and dropped her chin onto her
chest. Pol-Chi took his hand away. She did not look up as she
spoke.
Three things come to mind, my Lord. Two from
memory and the third from my reason. The first is my
memory of why the Emperor, my master, gave me away. I
betrayed a willingness to see him die by his own will. The
second is what you said to Hepteidon after Sora had
mutilated him. You told him that he could not utter the truth
now. She looked up into Pol-Chis eyes. Did Hepteidon
utter the truth? Is freedom not the truth?
Pol-Chi merely crinkled his eyes and prompted.
The third thing, Little Ki? From your reason.
My Lord, Hsin showed the Emperor a truth!
Hepteidon once told me of a thing that puzzled him. Hsin had
explained to him that in some way he was dead merely
because the Emperor had expressed his Will. Yet Hsin did
not actually die until Hepteidon himself had secretly willed
his death. What perplexed Hepteidon was the possibility that
Hsin obeyed his, Hepteidons, will rather than that of the
Emperor. But, I ask myself now, why did Hepteidon wish for
Hsins death? Hsin would have been very useful to him, yet
he sought his death that night. Why? For the same reason that
the Emperor had condemned Hsin? He showed Hepteidon the
truth that night.
Pol-Chi nodded repeatedly.
And, Little Ki?
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I will not say it, my Lord.

Then I will ask it, Imperial Slave. Do all slaves
possess this truth in the very fact of their slavery?
Little Ki gave a gasp and rolled on to her back, letting
her breasts slide as they would.
You merely freed Hepteidon from his slavery, my
Lord! But again I ask you, did he utter the truth then?
What did he say, Little Ki. Can you remember?
He said nothing, my Lord. He simply thanked you and
fell on the point of the sword.
Did he express the truth in that?
Little Ki rolled her eyes, looking beyond the lamplight
to the dark roof of the tent.
If, as you say, he sought love in death, then he did
not.
Pol-Chi leaned forward over her, catching her eyes
again.
How do you know, Slave? Little Ki stared back.
I did not know until you showed me the futility of love
and death. Before that, my Lord, it was merely in me.
Pol-Chi sat back. Little Ki strained her eyes to look
down her body at him.
Tell me, my Lord, if you will, how do you know?
Pol-Chi laughed.
I am a slave, too, Imperial Pet. But the Goddess told
me what my fear was.
What was it?
A fear of silence.
And you are no longer afraid of silence?
I live in silence.
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Little Ki nodded as well as she could. Then she let her

head fall back. She rubbed her brow with her forearm.
But you are free, my Lord. You live in the truth.
And you, Little Ki?
I am a slave, master. I possess the truth for others
only.
You do not have the freedom of it, is that so?
As Hsin said indirectly, I am, as a slave, the
expression of my masters truth. The truth is hidden in the
slave in this way the master has freedom.
So freedom is an illusion, then, Beautiful Slave?
As you showed Hepteidon.
Yet you say I am free.
You are free of your fear.
But does that contain the illusion of freedom?
You live in silence, Pol-Chi. Is that an illusion?
I follow my goddess wisdom. Is my goddess an
illusion?
Is she, Pol-Chi?
As I know her, yes, for all knowledge is illusion. But
as she is, no, for she is the presence of the possibility of
becoming true.
What is her presence, Pol-Chi?
She is present in the dark, Little Ki. Yet she is dark.
How then are you aware of her, Pol-Chi?
She is beautiful, Little Ki.
What is her truth?
Pol-Chi remained silent.
Little Ki sat up and leaned forward, her breasts
touching her knees.
What does she seek of you, Pol-Chi?
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Pol-Chi stared at her.

Does she seek your death, Pol-Chi? They say the
goddess seeks sacrifice from her priests and poets.
Do you wish my death, Little Ki?
Little Ki suddenly laughed, sending her whole body
atremble.
Oh, Pol-Chi, you gave your life already, in the illusion
of love.
Pol-Chi nodded.
What does your goddess require of you, Pol-Chi?
Little Ki repeated.
The softening of her heart, Little Ki.
How?
Pol-Chi shrugged with ironic amusement.
I dont know.
So you fail her too, Pol-Chi?
Little Ki broke her attention suddenly and looked
towards the entrance to the tent. The flap was pulled aside
and Sora stepped in, wearing her old black gown instead of
the yellow gown. Her head was bowed.
She sat down at the wall just beside the entrance. In the
gloom, only the lustre of her brown skin could be seen.
Pol-Chi waited until she had seated herself before
shouting harshly at her.
How is the heart of my goddess softened, Sora?
She remained silent, her eyes closed.
To Little Ki, Pol-Chi said loudly.
I have given her all that I know to give. I have given
my love, my life, my seed. I have assumed the darkness in
my heart and silence in my mind. Hepteidon showed me that
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rape and mutilation are of no avail. What else is there, Black

Beauty?
Little Ki smiled at him.
What is it that only man can give, Pol-Chi?
To a goddess? Only that which she can take, Little
Ki.
Little Ki shook her head sadly.
Ah, Pol-Chi. It must be given.
Pol-Chi slumped. He looked down at the paleness of
his palms.
Again, Little Ki, I do not know.
But Little Ki pressed him.
You thought once that you knew, Pol-Chi. What did
you believe?
Pol-Chi looked up quickly. He stared at Little Kis
questioning face, then glanced across at Sora, he smiled.
Little Ki, as you said, it was once in me, but then I
learned how to know it. But what I learned is only a product
of human understanding. It is this, the archivists of Mu-Ra
told Uos that man seeks reunion with that from which he is
separated. So, what the goddess seeks, on this hypothesis, is
the return of man. Only the last man in the Last Days could
perceive this. But only the last man of all men ever could
grant it.
Little Ki, these are the Last Days of this Age of man.
Soon, Ilgem will devastate the earth. But it will not destroy
all men. Therefore, the goddess cannot be granted her desire,
for no man has the power in this case.
Little Ki, I will tell you what the goddess wants, the
only thing which will soften her heart: she wants man to end
all motion.
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Little Ki glanced at Sora and then hissed. What else

do you know, man-of-the-Goddess?
Pol-Chi drew himself in, bringing his elbows into his
groin and clasping his hands.
In the real Last Days of men, this truth will be
apparent, for it will be the cause of mans self extinction. All
men in that time will see not only the futility of love and
death, of will and desire, but also of all motion in the
universes. Man will then renounce knowledge and act. He
will cease to exist. In that cessation, all things will cease to
exist.
Now, I tell you something, Little Ki. Beyond the light
and the dark there is only nothing, as I learned long ago. But
in learning this, I sought nothing in itself, thinking it was the
truth. But it is not the truth. In the nothing, I found precisely
what is there nothing. This is the final illusion of man, the
other side of love. For there man seeks, in his utter despair,
the denial of himself. To make that denial is merely to enter a
new illusion.
But, Little Ki, the truth is otherwise. To seek the
nothing is merely to will it into existence. To enter this
illusion is to escape the goddess. The truth is that man must
stop. Man must realise that motion has no purpose, because it
is necessarily given none. Motion, as Hepteidon discovered
to his utter dismay, is free. But what Hepteidon could not
recognise, because he was too afraid, was that man himself
made motion free. Motion is in a sense mans real slave, for
motion hides his truth from man.
Now, on one level, the human slave hides this fact
from man because he or she encapsulates mans own bondage
to the condition he has created for himself. In his or herself,
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the slave is free, because the only control which exists in the
slave is that exercised by the master. This is the truth the
slave possesses. Man projects the desire which is precisely
opposite to his actual condition, a desire for absolute control.
In his actual condition man in fact is absolutely unwilling to
control: his condition is that of pure freedom.
But this freedom is without purpose and man denies
this fact. Here he denies that he even created this freedom
himself.
On another level, which was shown to me by
Hepteidon, mans reason, as such, is the internal expression
of slavery. Here man claims to know. By the exercise of
number, he claims to control, by means of knowledge, that
which he secretly does not wish to control. Thus the
incompleteness of measure, and the pure act of self-reflection
it demonstrates, in that number always remains in itself while
appearing to measure things, shows the illusion of mans self
love in its most pure and abstracted form.
This love, Little Ki, is mans most seductive illusion,
for it comes closest to expressing the true resolution of mans
condition. Ostensibly, it expresses mans desire for union. In
fact, it betrays mans real unwillingness to achieve union, for
it operates, as I learned for myself, only in terms of what each
man and woman wants for his or herself. Again, what is
wanted is absolute control. Where it does get beyond mere
desire, and this I learned also, to the self-giving, it always
seeks either self-denial, which is nothingness, or a reciprocal
giving, which is a conspiracy of mutual control, that, once
again, denies mans primordial establishment of freedom.
Little Ki seemed to be swooning. She spoke in a
pitched voice, as though in response.
274

Tell me, Pol-Chi, what is it that the goddess desires of

man?
Little Ki, Pol-Chi said earnestly, she wants man to
stop. She wants man to return to being. In the achievement of
this being, there will be an end to motion and to its corollary,
nothingness.
Again, Little Ki glanced over at Sora. Pol-Chi
continued urgently:
But, Little Ki, the goddess cannot by asking receive
this. Nor can it come about just by her desiring it. Man does
not even give her anything. Man merely puts an end to his
present condition. That is why Hepteidon lay on the sword
and that is why Korkungal allowed himself to be murdered.
But death in itself is not the cessation. What Hepteidon, and
Korkungal, now know is that motion is endlessly free. They
continue in motion until mans real condition is ended.
Sora suddenly spoke from the gloom.
What of all the deaths that are impending, Pol-Chi?
Can they have meaning?
Not in the search for knowledge, lovely Sora, Pol-Chi
said bitterly, not turning to look at her. But if you and Uos
stay, then you might experience a meaning.
Little Ki looked from Pol-Chi to Sora with surprise and
then curiosity.
Do you go, Sora? she asked.
It is omened, Little Ki, Pol-Chi said harshly.
What meaning could we experience, Pol-Chi? Sora
asked levelly.
We will make a miracle here, little Sora.
But the truth you have spoken about, Pol-Chi, Sora
said anxiously. You said you would show a truth.
275

I cannot show truths, Sora. That is impossible even for

goddesses. I can only create the conditions in which truth
might be seen. Even a goddess can only do that.
Little Ki lay back and grinned at Pol-Chi at such an
angle that Sora couldnt see.
You make a miracle, Guide of men?
Pol-Chi smiled down at her.
I do, Black Beauty.
What miracle, Pol-Chi? Sora asked importunately,
rising and approaching.
Pol-Chi regarded her, staring up.
A miracle of the men of earth, Sora.
But how will it be performed?
Ah, Sora. Dont you know? A miracle is not
performed. It is established at the proper moment.
But what kind of miracle, Pol-Chi? Sora flashed
impatiently.
There is always only one kind of miracle, Sora. PolChi answered mildly. That is the only knowledge I can give
you of it.
Sora gripped her hands, staring down at Pol-Chi with
annoyance and frustration.
He smiled at her discomfort.
But you can have experience of it, Sora my lovely
love, even though I cannot give you knowledge of it.
Sora bent over him and shouted uncharacteristically:
You fool! Why cant you be satisfied with what you
have now? You have been given everything you desired.
Why do you now retreat into this primitive mystery-talk?
Pol-Chi laughed and looked at Little Ki.
She is so like Hepteidon, Black Beauty. Isnt she?
276

Little Ki brightened in her sudden awareness.

When she looked at Sora, she said to Pol-Chi,
And what illusion does she chase, man-of-magic?
Pol-Chi laughed again and dismissed her question with
a wave of his hand.
If only she knew, Imperial Pet. Yet, I admit, for once
she does seek rather than give.
Sora hissed and spun about, her gown billowing back,
and ducked out of the tent.
Little Ki watched her go, her attempt at suppressing
her triumph not entirely successful. Then she turned to PolChi.
What does she seek?
Pol-Chi rolled over and scrambled to his feet.
Why, Little Ki, she seeks the salvation of men. Didnt
you know that?
Little Ki showed surprise.
That is a great thing, Pol-Chi. Why do you refuse to
help her?
She has done all she can, Imperial Cow. I grant her
that. But she wants to give salvation.
Little Ki obediently scrambled up on to her hands and
knees, presenting her broad, but slightly too protuberant,
buttocks to Pol-Chi. Her voice muffled, she asked:
Yet, my Lord, you do something else. Something
which appears to go beyond her. Is it something new?
I doubt it, my Little Cow. The history of man is long.
He knelt in behind her, allowing the sight of her beauties to
arouse him.
My Lord, Little Ki suddenly asked, do you do this
miracle for me also?
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Pol-Chi bent over her back and grasped her full

pendulous breasts, squeezing them with a deep sigh.
I do it for you especially, my Lady. For you are the
most deserving.
He entered her with all his force, sinking deep into her
hot, moist flesh, knowing that in her training, amplitude and
strength this gave her most pleasure.
Between gasps, Little Ki said.
But I am only a slave, master-bull.
Pol-Chi drove into her again, throwing his whole
weight down on her, feeling the immense soft roundness of
her hanging breasts on his palms.
We are all slaves, mistress cow.
He laughed with the sudden rush of pleasure.
Thats another truth.
When Pol-Chi slumped on her, Little Ki sustained his
weight for a time, head up and taut, a fever in her spine.
Then, smoothly, she surrendered and allowed his weight to
bear her down.
Crushed by him, she suddenly said, winded.
I see that I cannot deny you, my Lord.
Sora guided you, Pol-Chi murmured at her ear.
Little Ki throbbed with laughter.
Uos. It is among friends, They mean no harm, PolChi.
But mercifully, Pol-Chi rolled off her before he
laughed.

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Chapter Seventeen
Pol-Chi finished speaking and watched his priestsecretary inscribe the remaining symbols. The noon sun was
pleasantly hot. In the west Ilgem was setting, squat and
ocherous, partly obscured by the dust raised by the
approaching Army.
When his priest-secretary had finished, Pol-Chi said:
Have it copied now, Plia. Be sure there are sufficient
copies for distribution to the army scribes. We will need ten
thousand copies by tomorrow.
Two riders appeared on the skyline, paused, and then
galloped down the incline towards the hill.
Uos studied them as he walked carefully towards
Pol-Chi. He limped slightly, going down on his left leg.
Uos.
Pol-Chi.
Uos sat in the chair vacated by the priest-secretary.
Who comes, Uos?
Red tunics, Pol-Chi. Imperial couriers.
Ah, yes. It is time for that.
What will he do?
Take command, of course, Uos.
Of what, Pol-Chi?
Pol-Chi laughed, throwing his head back, hooding his
eyes.
Of the invasion, Uos.
Uos seemed to shrink in his chair.
The riders disappeared from view below. The sound of
the hooves changed as the horses crossed the marshy strip.
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Then your task will be finished, Pol-Chi?

I do not know, Uos. What is my task?
Sora says you mean to work a miracle.
I mean to make a miracle possible, Uos.
What if it fails?
Whos to say whether it fails or not, Uos?
The ground was beginning to tremble. Then the riders
came over the brow, savagely urging their lathering horses
on. Once the couriers saw the seated figures they eased up.
Immediately the horses slackened to a broken canter.
We seek the Grand High Lord Pol-Chi.
You speak to him, kinsmen.
We come from His Imperial Majesty. Already he has
passed through the approaching Armies and will arrive here
soon. He orders that there is to be no ostentatious welcome,
for he comes as General-Commander in the field. Thus he
requires military protocol only.
Pol-Chi swung his foot. The couriers watched his foot
swinging.
The Emperor is a practical man, kinsmen. We will do
him honour in accordance with his rank. He pointed beyond
the yellow pavilions to the row of military tents. Rest now,
kinsmen. There you will find refreshment.
But the couriers turned instead and swung into their
saddles.
Thank you, my Lord. But we were instructed to return
immediately.
They saluted and wheeled their winded horses, forcing
them down the hill at a gallop.
Pol-Chi laughed airily.
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There are great things under way, Uos. The Emperor

prepares to conquer the earth.
Uos leaned forward, intent.
Pol-Chi, how do you know Ilgem will devastate the
earth?
How do you know it wont, Uos?
Uos shrugged, still intent.
But have you considered the possibility, Pol-Chi?
I have, Uos. However, you forget that it is as
Hepteidon said. It is not the star which threatens man, but his
fear. That fear is real, you have seen its effect yourself. You
see, Uos, even if the earth is not devastated, the fear in man
is driving him towards his own destruction.
Already our Empire has fallen apart. The coming of
the Emperor proves this. He flees Ka-Ra to seek the last
remnant of Imperial order here. And the fear in him is such
that he will use this remnant to wreak destruction in the
remainder of the world.
Would your miracle prevent this?
Uos, you know it has been foreseen that I will
receive a green stone. Do you know the meaning of this? No?
Well, tell me, old man of the stars, what on earth most
resembles a green stone?
Uos merely nodded.
You see, Uos? The least I do is to prepare the
unprepared for a happy death. I wish to show the valiant, the
outward-turned, what those who stayed in their homes have
already learned.
Uos tensed and asked urgently:
What have they learned, Pol-Chi?
Laughing, Pol-Chi replied:
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Oh, I can tell you, man-of-knowledge, but that is not

the same as experiencing it.
But tell me anyway, Pol-Chi.
Very well, though it will appear trite in words, as
miracles appear trite to the unbeliever. It is simply this: They
look within. That is all.
Uos sat back, obviously disappointed.
So this is your miracle, Pol-Chi? You will make men
look inwards. In this way they will not notice their
destruction.
Pol-Chi shook his head, laughing loudly.
Oh, Uos, that is crude. Quietening, he said sharply:
Old man, I am not a priest. I dont seek to mystify.
Uos was irritable.
But that is how it seems, Pol-Chi.
That is because you still seek to understand the
miracle, old man of knowledge. I repeat, there is only the
experiencing of it. I cannot tell you more because I dont
know what will happen in the miracle.
Uos grimaced, tapping one foot abstractly.
Ilgem had set behind the dust cloud.
Pol-Chi shifted in his chair.
Let me do this for you, Uos. You remember the
dream of the Savage priest which perplexed you? Uos
nodded, watching Pol-Chi warily. Well, I will explain it to
you. As you know, there are three elements. There is the
male-being, the men he creates, and the female-being man
creates. The significance of the dream turns on the fact that
the male-being is tied to the incomplete female being, is that
not so? The result of this attachment is the decay of the
cosmic order.
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Now, I will tell you the real meaning. In the first

place, Uos, you must be aware that it is a story told by a
man. Therefore, it is a mans version of the cosmic calamity.
But man hides from himself the real condition. Thus, in
explaining the story, the order of the tale must be reversed.
So, there is a female-being who is whole, united with the
male-being. This male-being creates man, and it is this act
which mutilates the female-being. This mutilation is the
hardening of her heart. So the dream-story tells us that man
should strive to soften her heart by re-establishing the union
of male and female beings.
You see, Uos, the male-being and the men he is said
to create are in fact the same being. Note that.
Uos nodded.
This is what you told Sora last night, Pol-Chi. But you
merely exploit the philosophy of the archivists of Mu-Ra,
Pol-Chi slapped his knees and shouted.
Sora! Uos, isnt it a good thing to see Sora seek
instead of giving? There is hope in that.
Uos smiled wryly, nodding.
Perhaps, Uos, she will relent.
I dont understand, Pol-Chi. In what way should she
relent?
It will ensure the miracle if she relents, Uos. We
have all relented. Korkungal and Hepteidon relented, though
it did lead to error. I have relented, but I dont think I have
erred yet. Even Little Ki has relented and she cant err. I
know you have not relented, but that is dependent upon Sora
relenting.
Uos looked at Pol-Chi with amazement.
What do you mean, relent?
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We all relented to Sora. Now we draw her to relent.

But Korkungal and Hepteidon are dead!
Of course. That is their power. Pol-Chi was earnest.
And when she relents, you will see the possibility of
relenting.
Uos jumped up.
What kind of magic is this, Pol-Chi? What do you
mean to do to Sora?
Pol-Chi sat back and interlaced his fingers across his
stomach.
Only to give her what she seeks, Uos, he said
reasonably.
Uos turned and looked at the yellow pavilion he
shared with Sora and Griron.
What does she seek, Pol-Chi?
The softening of her heart, of course, Uos.
Turning abruptly, Uos came and stood over Pol-Chi,
his eyes wide, his fists clenched.
This game of goddesses has gone too far, Pol-Chi. It is
making you mad.
Then it has made us all mad, Uos. Sora sought
something from us and we gave it to her. I, for my part, made
her a goddess.
But you cant make goddesses. Thats superstitious
nonsense.
Ask Sora, old man of reason. Ask her to deny that she
is a goddess.
Uos shook his fists in frustration and ran across to the
pavilion, calling Soras name.
Sora brought Griron with her, straddling her hip. Uos
spoke rapidly to her as they approached Pol-Chi.
284

She stood before him, her eyes bright with an

ambiguous passion.
Behind her, Uos called,
Deny this nonsense now, Sora! Let us have an end to
his superstitious madness.
Pol-Chi waited until Uos was silent. Then he said
gently to Sora.
Do you deny me, lovely Sora? Do you deny what I
gave you at such cost?
Sora put Griron down, on the grass. He sat where he
was placed, clutching the hem of Soras black gown, looking
up at Pol-Chi.
Uos came round her and stared closely into her face.
The struggle in Sora was short. She was suddenly
calm. No, Pol-Chi.
Pol-Chi waited now until Uos looked at him. You
see, Uos? She cannot deny what she herself established.
But you are not a goddess, Sora! Tell him that, at
least.
The old remoteness appeared in Soras eyes. From that
remoteness, she regarded Uos.
Sora!
Uos stepped back, aghast at what he saw in her eyes
Such remote unrelenting bitterness!
Pol-Chi was kicking his foot again.
You see, Uos? Her heart is cold. What did you do to
her?
Caught between Soras gaze and Pol-Chis unexpected
question, Uos was placatory.
Its not what I have done. Its what time has done...
Sora...
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You live too long, old man?

Sora, dont let him affect you like this...We all live too
long, Pol-Chi.
Uos reached and tentatively touched Soras shoulder.
But she shrugged him away and stepped closer to Pol-Chi.
I know, Sora, isnt that right? he said gently. Only I
know.
The bitterness in her eyes eased.
You are ever-lovely, Sora. It surprises me that no man
has ever touched your heart, even though many no doubt
gave you theirs.
Sora merely sneered and turned away. Picking up
Griron, she went back to the yellow pavilion.
Pol-Chi rested, watching the declining sun and the dust
cloud.
Uos sat down again.
I dont understand, Pol-Chi.
I told you I made her a goddess, didnt I?
But I thought it was just a poetic phantasy.
Dont words have meaning, Uos?
Yes, Uos involuntarily said, stunned, They must
have.
If they havent, Uos, then their use is an empty
charade.
Uos stared at the ground.
So this is how you make your miracle, Pol-Chi. Words
make it so?
Not words alone, Uos.
Uos suddenly remembered his earlier suspicion.
What part does Sora have in it? No, wait. Let me think
this out. The miracle is intended to resolve the condition you
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see in Tantors dream, and as described by the archivists.

You intend uniting your goddess to... Uos looked up with
horror. Pol-Chi, you seek to link Sora in some way to...five
million men! But that would kill her, Pol-Chi! Dont you see
that?
Pol-Chi was kicking his foot more rapidly.
Uos, think more. It is either possible or it isnt. We
should learn that, at least. However...
This is madness? Pol-Chi! You carry out an
experiment which will risk Soras life, yet youve already
said that you will not be able to tell whether it has worked or
not.
Uos, let me finish. Little Ki will protect Soras life.
She...
But thats just as bad, Pol-Chi. Is it because she is the
plaything of an Emperor that makes her more expendable?
Shut up, Uos. You gabble like an old woman. Now,
listen! I grow impatient with your curiosity. You dont want
to know what I am doing, old man from the stars, You merely
want to find out if your work of study here is finished.
But I will explain something of what I do. But
understand this much now, not all the parts are in place yet.
When the time of the miracle comes, it might well be that
circumstances will change the roles of us all.
But I will explain. Below us, the soldiers will
experience the miracle of the An-Akar. Up here, Sora the
goddess will necessarily accept the outcome of the miracle of
the An-Akar. But only in part. You know that Little Ki and
her predecessors have been called the Black Goddesses of the
Empire. There, again, words must have meaning. Little Ki, in
that case, expresses the deepest movement of the Imperial
287

Will, its deepest desire. Below will be the soldiers of the

Empire, the slaves of the Imperial Will. Some measure of
their...em, reaction, will express this Will. This will be
projected onto Little Ki. And...Uos, do you understand? It is
complicated. Speaking of it is not good.
Uos was trembling.
It is madness and magic, Pol-Chi. It is all a sham! He
collected himself. Pol-Chi, now listen to me. You drive me
to tell you things youre not supposed to know. Do you know
how the Miracle of the North was performed? It was easy,
though it required a lot of planning. We are...
Surprised by Pol-Chis dismissive gesture, Uos fell
silent, staring open-mouthed.
Yes, Uos. But what you dont understand is that you,
too, merely made the conditions of the miracle possible.
Nonsense, Pol-Chi. We gave you...
You produced the focus at the end, Uos. You did not
create the storm. You did not create the calm, nor the healing
power, nor the real miracle of the game with Sora.
What miracle with Sora?
Cant you remember?
No. There was a game, Pol-Chi. I remember that. But
not what happened. You told us not to remember... Uos sat
bolt upright. And I didnt remember! He shook his head
violently, as though to throw off something. What happened
there, Pol-Chi?
Ask Sora. But she wont tell you.
And then Hepteidon killed Korkungal, and afterwards
he arranged this!
Pol-Chi lay back in his chair, glancing with satisfaction
at a new turmoil in the dust cloud.
288

Uos stared, his eyes flicking, as though from one

dancing object to another. His hands were clenched in
concentration. When he spoke, there was a humility in his
voice.
Pol-Chi, you seem to play with forces I do not
understand.
Ah, man-of-reason, you admit to ignorance.
No, Pol-Chi, I merely make a statement. No judgment
is implied.
Pol-Chi waved at him.
Oh, fuck your logic. You either understand or you
dont understand. Pol-Chi leaned towards him. But
understand this, old man of reason, the middle space has
gone. Whether you understand or not is no longer important.
Youre caught in the net of forces, as you call them, now.
There is only one way out, Uos, the way Korkungal and
Hepteidon took. But you cannot take it, for that would be the
death of Sora. Now, do you understand that?
Pleading, Uos said,
What have you done to us, Pol-Chi? We came to help
you, but you are destroying everything.
Can you stop Ilgem, man of the stars?
No. Its beyond our available means. It would...
So you told the old Brigan priest. Dont you know that
you set these forces, as you call them, in operation?
I did not believe it possible, Pol-Chi. If it is not magic,
because you do not claim that it is magic, then what forces
have been called up?
Look to your philosophy, old man. You know the
answer.
Uos stared, awareness heightening.
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Pol-Chi nodded.
If words have meaning, Uos. If human understanding
has any reality, then it is as the archivists say it is.
But are you not sceptical, Pol-Chi? Before, your
scepticism saved you from error.
There is no longer any time for scepticism, Uos.
These are the Last Days. Cant you understand even that?
But this philosophy, Pol-Chi, cant you understand
that it might not be true?
Uos, if I believed instead, for whatever reason, that
the marriage of the sun and moon, or even the resurrection of,
say, Korkungal, was required, dont you know that I would
seek that? No, wait, Uos, I will relent with you, for you have
come to understand much that you were unwilling to
understand. Three insights, from different sources, gather
here to instruct and guide me. In my own poem, the very line
that Hepteidon baulked at is the one concerning the reference
to the cold heart of the goddess:
And within a gown sheer black she wears
The Mark of Man: a Heart grown cold.
Thus, Hepteidon the man of science involuntarily
expressed the deep knowledge of men. Then I heard of
Tantors dream, which you could not understand. But I saw,
at least, though not in full awareness, the significance of the
reference to an incomplete female. Then when I heard the
philosophy of the archivists of Mu-Ra, again I saw
incompleteness.
You see, old man, it is not my own delusion which I
follow, nor that of the archivists, nor merely that of an old
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impotent priest of the Savages. But each source connects with

the others at one particular point. More, Uos, and I tell you
this to show you that I am not just an impressionable
rhymester, there is the matter of the different responses to this
symbol. In my case, I saw the goddess as active, seeking to go
beyond man. I was the pessimistic lover, content to be left
with the darkness. Old Tantor sought to escape his impotence
by urging men to help his female-being, who nonetheless is
loved. But among the archivists, the dry scepticism of reason
precluded any solution, leading only to laughter, the laughter
of the self-love of the ever-busy at the edges of
understanding.
But, again, Uos, I saw in the emptiness of the most
abstract concepts of the archivists a glimmer of truth, in the
link they made in laughter between what they called divinity
and death. In Tantors case, it was easier to see the truth, once
I knew where to look, Tantors male-being has the power
which the old priest lacked. However, it was not a matter of
inversion only, for men had a part in the female-beings
incompleteness. The men also have a power that Tantor
lacked, yet they made an incomplete woman. You see, Uos,
on the divine plane, as it were, everything should be in order.
But it is on the human plane that the disorder originates. This
is where the inversion occurs. In order, then, for man to
conceive of himself as potent and whole, it is necessary for
him to conceive of an impotent and incomplete divinity, to
use the archivists term, though perhaps Tantors word
being might be more applicable, if it did not imply a
duality of beings.
Uos looked mollified and interested.
291

Theres solid thought in that, Pol-Chi. You are a great

philosopher.
Oh, philosophy my arse, Uos. You are an
incorrigible pedant.
Uos nodded contritely.
You are right, Pol-Chi. Its hard to change the habits
of... But one thing you havent explained yet. What of your
own poem? What attitude does it betray?
Pol-Chi laughed.
I dont know, old man. I cannot see behind myself. In
any case, Im not a philosopher. I am a creator, Uos. As
such, I cannot know what I do. If I did, then there would be
no creation in it.
Uos was suddenly concerned.
Then you could be in danger, miracle-worker? I had
not thought of that. I forgot that you are at the centre of the
forces you arouse.
What danger, old man?
You could be destroyed, my friend. Havent you
considered that possibility?
Do you value life that much, Uos? Dont you know
that all motion continues?
You are courageous, Pol-Chi. Uos said with feeling.
You do a great thing for man.
Pol-Chi laughed blithely and looked away. He was in
time to see the head of the Imperial column gallop over the
skyline and begin the descent to the river. They raised a great
deal of dust.
Red armour, he muttered.
Uos started and squinted against the declining sun.
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The Imperial colour, he agreed. The Emperor

intends an invasion, fear or no fear.
Pol-Chi kicked his foot.
Destruction or no destruction. Suddenly he bent
across to Uos. Tell me, how big is Ilgem?
Uos hesitated, then said.
Almost as big as the moon.
Pol-Chi nodded.
How soon, old man?
Again Uos hesitated, but his feelings impelled him.
In a few days there will be the first signs.
Pol-Chi leaned back, seemingly satisfied.
So soon. There wont be time for an invasion.
An invasion, Pol-Chi? Thats irrelevant.
Not entirely, Uos.
They saw the Emperor now, surrounded by tall
Northern axemen mounted on white horses. Their bronze
armour was brazen in the golden sunlight.
He brings his own army, Uos.
He brings Hepteidons axemen.
Ah, the berserkers. The Emperor is in his extremity,
Uos.
Will he prevent your miracle, then, Pol-Chi?
Pol-Chi looked behind him at the now golden mist on
the river. He pointed to it.
The way must be cleared for the invasion, Uos. He
laughed. At least, for the truth concerning the invasion.
Uos looked around at the mist visible between the
pavilions.
What truth, Pol-Chi?
Wait and see. It has not been created yet.
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Below them, they heard the first horses cross the

marshy strip.
Pol-Chi got up and went across to the black military
tents, shouting to call out his servants and soldiers.
The Emperor must be welcomed, as befits his rank in
the field.

294

Chapter Eighteen
It is a new time, Little Ki, Pol-Chi said gently. In the
new time there are new ways. Let the new ways be.
Little Ki moved towards him in a desire for
reassurance.
But if the Emperor asserts his claim, Pol-Chi?
Then you must act according to the new way.
But I dont know the new way, as you call it. Little
Ki said with mild exasperation.
Pol-Chi stroked her perfect shoulder to calm her.
Little Ki, trust me. The way is in you.
She nodded submissively, biting her lip, staring at the
grass made yellow by torchlight.
Pol-Chi looked to the west, towards the setting waning
moon. The dust cloud was higher, enveloping the moon in its
gauzy extremities.
The movement of five million men created a low
rumble that filled the night with eerie disturbance. Already
the leading units had reached the skyline above the river: a
line of torches marked the edge of the plain, fading on either
side, north and south, into the distance. Now and again
singing could be heard from the throats of thousands and tens
of thousands of marching soldiers.
The Hu-An-Akar was arriving.
Pol-Chi turned away, pausing momentarily to look at
the river mist, faint and yellow in the weakening moonlight.
Then he looked north, sorting through the innumerable stars
till he found Le Tlu, the North Star, winking steadily at him.
Without Ilgem, it was like the eve of an invasion.
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Little Ki, I tell you one thing. Be yourself. And learn

from it if you wish.
He took her hand. She gave him a bright smile, full of
trust at this moment of crisis.
A place for the huge red Imperial pavilion had been
found by simply moving the black military tents off the hill.
It stood out in the night, clearly visible to those who wished
to see it, illuminated by a ring of torches. Under each torch
stood a Brigan axeman, stiffly to attention in heavy bronze
armour, red shields masking faces, the naked steel of the axe
blades the only relief from the harsh, threatening appearance
of these stock-still, staring warriors.
The Chamberlain greeted them at the entrance to the
pavilion, dressed only in a simple red tunic, shivering slightly
in the cool night air.
He raised his hands expansively, palms out, when he
recognised Little Ki. He made no attempt to hide the
frankness of his eyes while this freedom of sight was
allowed, nothing else was.
Ah, my dear Little Ki, His Imperial Majesty will be so
happy to see you. He has never ceased to regret your absence
from his side.
Little Ki looked at him once only. She did it abstractly,
setting her mouth in a smiling grimace, extending her arm to
brush him aside.
The Chamberlain fell back, nodding his head as if to
admit the propriety of her behaviour, but seeing instantly,
though not for the first time, that the unspeakable held sway
in this wilderness.
When he turned to the Grand High Lord of the
invasion army, he instantly saw the source of the
296

unspeakable. He bowed gracefully, hitching an imaginary

cloak, and began:
My gracious Grand High Lord, may I welcome you on
behalf of his Imp...
Of course, Kenhartdu. Why not?
The Merura noble reeled in shock, but his face merely
registered a bland ingratiating look.
My Lord, one must observe the protocol.
Pol-Chi paused and clasped his hands at his belly. He
smiled.
The power of the unspeakable!
The Chamberlain realised instantly that he should have
returned to his estates in the high homeland of the Merura, as
all the nobles of Ka-Ra had done. Because it was true -The
Empire was dead!
He looked at the new power. He saw a stout middleaged black with greying hair at the temples and crinkled eyes,
and realised that
the Emperor should kill this man at once.
Then he saw the futility of it.
Chamberlain, your dedication to duty in these troubled
times does you credit. May you receive your just reward.
The Empire was dead. The only hope lay in the
invasion. The new Empire would have a new capital,
goodness knows where, and a new nobility, perhaps these
black-skinned military leaders or the white-skinned madmen.
I thank you, my Grand High Lord. Attention to ones
duty is an especial necessity in these times.
But this man, the reputed miracle worker, Pol-Chi, is
he the new Emperor?
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So right, Kenhartdu. Duty means order, and order

means peace.
The Chamberlain bowed involuntarily.
Thank you again, my Grand High Lord.
Pol-Chi walked sedately passed him into the greater
brightness of the pavilion.
Little Ki stood just inside the door and Van the
Twenty-third, the nine hundred and forty-fifth Emperor of the
Sun was seated on a high chair opposite the entrance and
saying.
...before all this was clear. Look, my pet, dont be so
silly. Will you simply come over and let us get the prescribed
preliminaries over and done with. Im famished and... Ah, the
Grand High Lord Pol-Chi. Welcome, fellow soldier. Pol-Chi,
will you tell Little Ki to come out of that nook and give me
just a kiss.
What is in you to do, Black Beauty?
Ive done it already, Pol-Chi, Seeing him again. Ive
just realised that.
Good. Pol-Chi took her elbow and drew her into the
centre of the tent. Well, then, Little Ki, between preparation
and execution there is always time for play. Let us play now.
You are so good, Pol-Chi. You have a way with her.
The Emperor laughed uproariously, approaching Little Ki
with open arms. My dear, Little Ki, it has been so long. Im
so happy to see you.
The kiss was planted chastely on her brow. Then
holding her perfect shoulders, he looked her up and down.
Despite this rather shapeless garment, my pet, I can
see that you have maintained your perfection. You simply
dont know how unique you are, my dear. Why, do you know
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I had to return your two sisters to their home. Revolting

specimens. Different sires, of course, but you have to take
chances like that. Now. He looked around at the other guests
and shouted, Lets eat! He brought Little Ki over to sit him
on the carpets and waved Pol-Chi, Uos and Sora to sit. Do
you know, I have never before travelled so much. The sea
journey was tolerable. Luckily, there were no storms.
(Smiling at Pol-Chi.) But this land! Ugh! Dust, dust, dust. A
boring flatness everywhere. Day after day, charging across
the same flat yellow land. Tell me, Pol-Chi, do you really
think this manoeuvre will be successful? After all, our lines
are very extended.
The army carries all it needs, Emperor. Later, it can
live off the land.
Perhaps. Perhaps. But I ask myself, Pol-Chi, where
will I find a roof for my head? In some unimaginably exotic
place in the East?
Why not, Emperor?
But, Pol-Chi, how long will that take? I mean, how far
are we from civilization? As I reckon it, my Armies could
hardly make it back to their homelands now. Not enough
food.
That acts as an incentive, Emperor. We go home the
long way.
The Emperor laughed richly at this, squeezing Little
Kis hand and inviting her to share his humour.
The long way home! Pol-Chi, I see you have wit. Im
very glad you have. I find that soldiers as a rule are morose
creatures. Perhaps its their trade. I mean, killing and fighting
all the time.
299

Perhaps their moroseness compels them to fight,

Emperor.
Ah! I hadnt thought of that. You mean, Pol-Chi, that
its a kind of prior condition? But I ask you, speculatively, of
course, Pol-Chi, why should they be morose to begin with?
Perhaps they are constitutionally unhappy, Emperor.
Theres that. But even so, Pol-Chi, what creates that
constitution?
Why, Emperor, their fathers were soldiers.
Pause. Then the Emperor laughed, looking from PolChi to Little Ki. Then he said abruptly:
Pol-Chi, must Little Ki wear this clumsy garment
here? It reminds me of the priestly habit. What do you say,
Uos? You were once a high-priest. Is there a new religion
here? Are you all ascetic and dedicated to a yellow goddess?
What do you say, Pol-Chi? Must we have the ostentation of a
new religion at an ancient Imperial court?
Pol-Chi stood up and pulled his yellow tunic over his
head. Then he sat down and reached for his wine cup.
Silence. Then the Emperor stood up and pulled his red
tunic over his head. Then he sat down and reached for his
wine cup.
Little Ki reached for her wine cup.
Uos said:
The Priesthood hold the opinion that it is not a
religious movement, Imperial Majesty. They say that it is
either a military affair, which seems the case, or a new
Imperial order, which does not seem the case.
The Emperor rubbed his chest and then lifted his
gonads into a more comfortable position.
300

Yes, and that allows the Priesthood to ride on the back

of the yellow movement. Anyway, thats neither here nor
there. Despite all their theorising about divine rights, the
Priesthood has always been a parasitical order as religious
order, though useful in other spheres. And whats wrong with
a religion if it persuades its adherents to do what needs
doing2 As far as Im concerned, I dont care what your
movement call itself so long as your members do their duty,
to me.
What else could it do, Emperor? Pol-Chi asked
moderately. The Imperium is the only formal political power
in the Empire.
Yes, that is so, Pol-Chi. But it is the formal political
power, as you call it. Thats not to say that rival centres of
power could not be established.
But in your Armies, Emperor?
Why not, Pol-Chi? The danger for the Empire is that
its Armies are composed largely of members of one race.
That should never have been allowed to happen. Why
shouldnt that one race not concentrate its power against the
merely legal power of the Imperium?
But whats the point, Emperor? They would still have
to do the soldiering. There is no other race numerous enough
to do it.
A new race, Pol-Chi. Everyone in Ka-Ra was aware of
that threat.
The white race? How long before there would be a
sufficient number of them, Emperor?
Soon enough to make soldiering a temporary trade for
the black race.
Pol-Chi looked into his cup. Uos now spoke.
301

But it was also said in Ka-Ra, Imperial Majesty, that

the white-skinned warriors could not be trusted. They cannot
be disciplined sufficiently for the policing role of the Imperial
Army.
The Emperor glanced at the nearest of the Brigan
axemen, who stood guard around the walls of the tent.
Thats not discipline, Imperial Majesty. That is
obsession. Do you trust them, Imperial Majesty?
They obey my orders, High Priest.
As they did Hepteidons, Imperial Majesty?
Hepteidon obeyed my Will, High Priest.
Pol-Chi intervened. Hepteidon fell on his sword,
Emperor.
So he did, Pol-Chi. What happened? Did he lose his
nerve?
He sought his real master, Emperor.
The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of
food. The Emperor cried fresh meat and concentrated on
eating. His guests followed suit.
When he had taken the edge of his hunger, the
Emperor pointed over at Sora, who faced him, and asked,
Tell me, little Sora, why do you alone wear black? Is
the significance military? You know that black is the colour
of the Imperial Armies.
Sora looked at the Emperor for the first time. The
Emperor saw there, to his surprise, a passion.
Are all your women silent, Pol-Chi? Im simply trying
to be friendly. Isnt that right, Little Ki? He took Little Kis
hand and squeezed it.
Pol-Chi chewed meat, then swallowed it.
Sora is a goddess, Emperor. That is her colour.
302

Ha! I knew it was a religion, Pol-Chi, why do you

institute priestesses? Are you a priestess also, Little Ki? If
you are, then its a pity, because for me you were my little
Black Goddess. Why hasnt Pol-Chi made you his goddess,
instead of the skinny one? Has he no blood?
Sora stood up and pulled her gown over her head. She
sat down and drank wine. When she looked at the Emperor,
the remote allurement was in her eyes.
The Emperor drank wine, letting Little Kis hand go.
Emperor, I merely disclose the goddess. I merely
allow the possibility of the truth.
The Emperor gazed at the tips of Soras breasts.
Do you disclose your goddess to other men.
She discloses to whom she pleases, Emperor. Who
can direct a goddess without danger?
The Emperor stood up. His penis was erect. Will Sora
disclose to me then, Pol-Chi?
Seek it.
The Emperor went and stood over Sora, his penis
jutting over her head.
Goddess, will you disclose to a man in need?
At the entrance, the Chamberlain coughed discreetly.
Oh, shut up, Kenhartdu. It cant do any harm. Will
you, Sora? Pol-Chi! Tell your woman to answer me.
Uos said quietly.
She cannot be ordered, Imperial Majesty. That is her
only privilege.
The Emperor bent over Uos.
Are you joking, priest? What other privilege is there?
There is the privilege of obedience, Imperial Majesty,
which all slaves have.
303

Bending further towards Uos, the Emperor heard PolChi say,

Ask Hsin, Emperor. He was a privileged man. The
Emperor swung about. Hsin sat beside Pol-Chi, his arms and
legs wrapped about him in complicated ways.
I obey, he said, eyes rising up and up.
Hes dead! the Emperor screamed, pointing at the
dead Hsin. Hepteidon assured me of that.
There is no death, Hsin said sadly. And sooner or
later...
He vanished.
The Emperor stalked over to Pol-Chi, penis flaccid, in
a towering rage.
What kind of magic is this?
Its not magic, Father. There is no death. Until the
end, we can be called out at any time. Try it.
Hepteidon sat in the Emperors place, smiling at Sora.
The Emperor sat down abruptly in the middle of the
ring of his guests.
Hepteidon! he screamed. I know you are dead!
Were all dead, Father, Hepteidon said, looking
behind him.
The Dead gathered on that side of the tent, crowding
into a space so vast that it seemed greater than the vault of the
sky above. They pressed forward, millions upon countless
hundreds of millions of men and women, arms upraised to the
Emperor, chanting in every human language from every
human Age:
Were not dead. Were not dead.
The Emperor swung on Pol-Chi, his eyes bulging.
304

Stop it, for goodness sake, magician. Im not

responsible for them.
Pol-Chi smiled blithely.
But they are part of the Hu-An-Akar, Emperor. You
are General-Commander of the Hu-An-Akar.
The Emperor looked over his shoulder.
The Dead had upraised arms and beseeching faces. In
the far, far distance he could see beseeching faces, though
that should not be possible. There were as many faces as
there were grains of sand in the sea.
Pol-Chi asked above the rumble of voices:
How is Kandrigi, Hepteidon?
It is sad, he keeps his face to the Dark.
Do many?
Hepteidon looked behind him.
As many as this again, Pol-Chi.
And to the Light?
As many again. Korkungal does.
Is he happy?
Hes patient, as always.
The Emperor beat the floor with his fists.
Pol-Chi! Get rid of them!
Do these hope, Hepteidon?
They look for a divinity, Pol-Chi.
Here?
They always look here.
Then let them look to themselves.
Hepteidon suddenly flashed his Merura anger.
Do you think its any easier here, Pol-Chi?
Pol-Chi looked at his feet and thought.
Now that you mention it, why should it be?
305

He raised his hands.

In the silence, the Emperor screamed.
Stop it before I go mad!
Uos asked,
Was that an illusion, Pol-Chi?
Was it true, Uos?
Little Ki shook herself and stood up. She pulled her
yellow gown over her head. Her perfect breasts appeared,
dropping and trembling one after the other from under the uppulled gown.
The Emperor asked Pol-Chi:
What are you doing here?
Preparing an invasion, Emperor.,
But what was all that for? He pointed behind him.
They are part of the Hu-An-Akar, obviously. Pol-Chi
paused. Did you think even five millions were enough?
The Emperors eyes bulged again.
Invasion of what?
Why, the An-Akar, of course, Emperor.
What have the dead got to do with that?
Pol-Chi was reasonable.
They wish to pass through the An-Akar, too. Do you
think itll be done for five millions only?
But I dont lead the dead, Pol-Chi. Im not mad!
Uos said from the left:
Who says you lead the An-Akar?
The Emperor leaped to his feet and charged over to
Uos.
Ill show you who leads, Priest.
He swung to the nearest axeman and commanded
magisterially:
306

Kill this man!

The axeman did not stir.
Kill this man! I command you!
The Emperor rushed up to the axeman, seeking to look
over the rim of the red shield at the staring eyes.
Kill him, I tell you! he barked, pointing down at
Uos.
The axeman gave the Emperor a murderous glance,
and raised his axe, brushing the Emperor off balance.
Stay!
The axeman froze, axe raised, body twisting to
facilitate the downward stroke.
Pol-Chi appeared beside the Emperor. He said to the
axeman
Stay your axe, good Brigan. There will be time
enough for that.
The axeman stared at Pol-Chi.
It will be soon, Brigan. I promise you that.
The axeman resumed his guard position.
When he was out of range of the axe, the Emperor
inclined his head to Pol-Chi and whispered shrilly:
He was about to kill me!
Pol-Chi nodded as though to reassure the Emperor.
What do you expect, Emperor? He glanced at Little
Ki. What do all your slaves wish for you?
The Emperor followed Pol-Chis glance and saw Little
KI seated naked, one arm supporting her breasts, the other
holding a wine cup to her lips.
Her, too?
You remember.
307

The Emperor stared at Little Kis breasts. Then he

nodded.
And Hsin, he murmured. Even Hsin.
Anyway, Pol-Chi said confidentially. What would
you do in the face of a lie?
Oh, dont be moralistic now, Pol-Chi, the Emperor
said, drawing away. Remember whos at the centre of the
lie. He went and sat by Little Ki again. Looking up, he said,
Anyway, thats neither here nor there anymore. What are
you going to do with me? You obviously have control here.
Pol-Chi sat beside the Emperor.
Why must I do anything with you?
Little Ki interjected suddenly.
He asked Hepteidon the same question.
Did he? What did Hepteidon say?
He joked about killing him.
Pol-Chi shook his head.
Theres no point in killing him.
Why not? the Emperor quickly asked.
The An-Akar, Emperor.
The Emperor threw up his eyes in exasperation.
Oh, come on, Pol-Chi, be practical. Keep your magic
for the soldiers. What I want to know is this, what do you
intend doing with me? If youre going to kill me, then lets
get it over with. If not, then lets finish this business and
celebrate.
Celebrate what, Emperor?
Whatever is going to happen tomorrow.
Pol-Chi nodded.
Thats practical. Very well, Im not going to kill you,
Emperor. Theres no point. Youre really the Emperor of
308

Nothing now. You look surprised. Ask your Chamberlain.

Kenhartdu! Ah. Is there an Empire?
No, my Grand High Lord.
Wait now, both of you. You forget one thing. Im the
Empire. So long as Im alive, there is an Empire.
Both Pol-Chi and the Chamberlain nodded at this. PolChi glanced at the Chamberlain, read his expression, and then
turned to the Emperor.
Very well, I concede that legal point. But what about
your Will, Emperor? Who obeys it?
The Emperor was suddenly earnest. He dug his finger
into Pol-Chis arm.
Now! Thats a point, Pol-Chi. It seems that Im no
longer obeyed.
Pol-Chi nodded, suffering the prodding finger.
But can you accept that, Emperor? Its important that
you do. If youre still tempted to throw your weight about,
Ill have to put you under guard.
The Emperor was still earnest.
Ill try, Pol-Chi. But itll take time to get used to it. I
mean, for twenty years everyone has let me do as I wished.
Well, I suppose the important thing is for you to
accept it when someone tells you to piss off. Dont throw
tantrums, I mean.
Ill try. But Im spoiled, greedy, and aggressive by
nature. I tend to take what I want, Pol-Chi.
Pol-Chi patted the Emperors arm. No one can blame
you for doing that.
In the silence that followed, Pol-Chi motioned the
Chamberlain to pour wine. When this was done, Pol-Chi
raised his cup and said:
309

To the An-Akar.
They drank.
Then the Emperor hissed.
Cant I have Sora?
Pol-Chi signalled for more wine, then answered.
Youll have to ask her, Emperor. Ive already told you
that.
Oh, all right, The Emperor got to his feet. But you
know, Pol-Chi, you really dont know how to use your
influence.
Pol-Chi laughed and drank.
Ill tell you this, though, Emperor. Dont be tempted
to take her, just because shes so slight. Hepteidon tried that
and he lost his prick.
The Emperor raised his brows.
Her? He looked over at Sora. Anyway, he could
never handle women. Isnt that right, Little Ki? She nearly
killed him the first time.
The Emperor slapped his thigh with humour, and went
off towards Sora.
Pol-Chi shifted over beside Little Ki.
How goes the new way, Black Beauty?
Little Ki shivered her shoulders, sending her bosom all
atremble.
Silence, Pol-Chi?
Pol-Chi tweaked her left nipple.
And?
Little Ki shivered again, this time with pleasure,
glancing down at Pol-Chis fingers tweaking her nipple.
Silence, Pol-Chi? I tell you. Silence is the prerogative
of those who have the power to give.
310

The Emperor is never silent.

Never, Pol-Chi.
Sliding his hand into her cleavage, Pol-Chi observed:
And Sora is still silent before the Emperor.
She moved her arms slightly, so that her breasts
imprisoned Pol-Chis hand. He showed his pleasure.
The Emperor is never silent, he repeated. What does
he want?
Little Ki fell smoothly back with a sigh and allowed
the pressure of Pol-Chis thighs to open hers.
He wants his goddess, too, Little Ki replied and then
grunted as Pol-Chi entered her forcefully. Panting, straining
her head back, she stuttered. But...shes in...in his head. She
grunted again, loosening her whole body, as Pol-Chi drove
into her again. Shes al...always behind himmmmm. She
screamed her pleasure.
Its alright for you pair, the Emperor shouted from
above. But whys that bitch so choosy about who sticks it up
her, eh? There are millions of cows in this Empire whod be
only too willing to jump for their Emperor... Are you
listening to me, Pol-Chi?
Pol-Chi wriggled his buttocks at him.
Then the Emperor screamed with rage.
Shes letting that runty old priest fuck her! His voice
receded. What sort of taste have these cows got anyway?
Priests and soldiers before their Emperor.
What sort of set-up is this anyway?
Pol-Chi rolled off Little Ki, feeling his moist flesh
cooling, and said conversationally,
Emperor, why dont you go fuck yourself?
311

Little Ki tittered at first, then, helplessly, she began to

laugh, shaking and trembling all over.
The Emperor ran over, fists balled with rage.
Thats not funny, Pol-Chi. Youre all picking on me
now because Im powerless.
Did you ask her, Emperor?
I did. Look, Pol-Chi, I asked her politely. But the
bitch wouldnt even look at me.
Well, she knows now. Youll have to wait until she
decides to come to you.
The Emperor hunkered down and shook Pol-Chis arm.
Look, Pol-Chi, I cant wait. Its over two months since
I had a decent comfortable fuck. He gestured with his fist in
emphasis. You know what I mean. Youre a soldier. Its no
fun screwing the kind of scrubbers you get on the march. You
never know whos been in there before you.
Pol-Chi nodded with sympathetic resignation.
Perhaps tomorrow or the next day, Emperor. Try to
have patience.
The Emperor looked over at Uos and Sora. He
clenched his free hand again and shook it before his face.
But this one, Sora. I never knew her kind could have
so much...you know. He gestured with his fist again. Itll
kill me to wait that long.
Then youll have to beg her.
The Emperor was incredulous in his surprise.
But Ive never begged, he said, totally earnest. I
cant do that.
Why not? Shes not one of your subjects. The
alternative is to pull yourself off.
312

The Emperor plopped down on his bottom. He bowed

his head. When he raised it again, Pol-Chi saw the same selfregard he had seen in Hepteidon.
Little Ki said at his shoulder. The Emperor encounters
his own Majesty.
Pol-Chi laughed, And?
Tell me, Pol-Chi, the Emperor said seriously, I have
the most awful feeling. Will this world end tomorrow?
Pol-Chi shrugged his shoulders.
I dont know, Emperor. Youll have to ask Uos about
that. He knows more about the celestial movements.
The Emperor nodded and climbed wearily to his feet.
Just then, as though a coincidence, they all heard a
great wail from the plain outside. It grew in volume until it
seemed as though the whole earth screamed in fear.
The Emperor looked around him, stunned out of his
self-regard.
Whats that now?
The thunderous ululation rose and fell, gradually
establishing a rhythm.
Whos dead, Pol-Chi?
The rhythm was ragged, rippling back and forth, north
and south, outside.
Ilgem rises, Emperor.
But thats a death lament, Pol-Chi. Whose death do
they lament?
Pol-Chi turned away to Little Ki. Grief made her face
very powerful.
Their own death, Emperor. And ours.

313

The Emperor looked at his flaccid penis. He cried out

hoarsely and wrapped his arms about his own body. Then one
long scream
NOOOOOOOOO..
Some of the Brigan guards ran out of the tent. Pol-Chi
put his arms around Little Ki and drew her close.
...OOOOOOO...
Little Ki snuggled in against Pol-Chi, glad he eased her
fear.
Poor Van, she murmured. He does not like Soras
gift.
Outside, the chant had become insistent, held by five
million soldiers BIN-IN, BIN-IN, BIN-IN
Greeted thus, Ilgem rose, lovely, yellow, up from
behind the river mist. It seemed to fill the eastern sky.

314

Chapter Nineteen
There was sufficient light now.
Ilgem hung huge and bright yellow, high in the western
sky. To the east the first rays of the sun began to lighten the
golden mantle that lay across the earth.
It is lovely, Uos.
Tense, Uos nodded jerkily.
No harm in seeing that, Pol-Chi.
Ha! It is necessary to see that. It contains a truth.
Little Ki ducked out of the Imperial pavilion, rubbing
her belly to ease the goose pimples.
Sora says we should drink hot wine. Van agrees with
her.
Pol-Chi nodded abstractly, looking at the effect the
chill morning air had on Little Kis nipples. Uos looked also
and commented:
That Ilgem brings no warmth is also a fact.
Little Ki followed their eyes down, grinned, and
wriggled her torso.
Uos and Pol-Chi smiled appreciatively, both sensing
the jest.
Then Little Ki looked down at them and remarked:
And Ilgem has a lesson for the bulls.
Tight-scrotumed, Uos and Pol-Chi laughed heartily.
Sora came out, carrying a large steaming jar in both
hands. Behind, the Emperor trailed, gold cups collected in his
crossed arms.

315

When he had passed the cups around, the Emperor

shook with one long shiver. His scrotum visibly shrank. But
he nudged Pol-Chi.
So this is the day?
Pol-Chi laughed, his eyes narrowing.
But for what, Emperor?
An invasion, of course, Pol-Chi. He paused. Do you
counsel otherwise, Grand High Lord?
The mist must clear first, Emperor.
The Emperor looked over at the yellow wall of fog,
Today?
If all goes well, Emperor. But the climate differs here
in the North.
Uos chuckled.
Sora poured the hot wine. They drank and she poured
again.
Do you have drummers handy, Emperor?
What? What for? Oh, I think so. KENHARTDU!
The Chamberlain looked gaunt. Sora gave him her cup
of wine.
Drummers, Kenhartdu? Where are they?
The Chamberlain tossed back the wine, then braced
himself. He shuddered.
Drummers, Your Imperial Majesty?
Yes, drummers! Get a move on, Kenhartdu! I want
drummers here, NOW!
The Chamberlain ran.
Obviously I have drummers handy, Pol-Chi.
Now, let us sit over there. Pol-Chi pointed towards
the northern end of the hill-top. Well need skins, no doubt.
316

Uos and Little Ki went into the Imperial pavilion.

Suddenly the Emperor asked.
Where are those barbarian guards?
Pol-Chi followed the Emperors gaze.
Perhaps you dismissed them, Emperor.
I did no such thing, Pol-Chi.
Anyway, dont worry about them, Emperor. Youre
safe enough here.
Its not that, Pol-Chi. Its the principle. Imperial
guards cant wander off like that.
They say theyre difficult to discipline.
Perhaps youre right. Pol-Chi, I shouldve stuck with
our own lads. But Hepteidon seemed to have a good grip on
them.
He had a taste for berserkers, Emperor.
Nodding sanguinely, the Emperor looked to the west.
The front ranks of the Hu-An-Akar lined the rim of the
plain above, stretching out on either side into the misty
golden distance. The Army was strangely silent, waiting.
The An-Akar, the Emperor muttered. Do you know,
Pol-Chi, Ill give you this, you really know how to set up an
invasion. He indicated. Those men are ready to conquer the
world.
Pol-Chi smiled, seemingly depreciative.
Im a soldier, too, Emperor.
And so you are.
The skins finally laid in a level, grassy place, Pol-Chi
sat facing the north. He called Sora to sit on his right and
Little Ki to sit on his left. Uos was directed to sit beside
Little Ki, the Emperor to sit beside Sora, which pleased him.
Pol-Chi turned his head and shouted.
317

Griron!
Immediately the flap of the nearest pavilion moved and
Griron appeared, toddling on his little fat legs. He moved
carefully but steadily over the uneven ground, the grass
brushing his chest and face at times.
When he was close enough, Pol-Chi pointed to the gap
between the Emperor and Uos. Obediently, Griron swerved
and made for that point.
Whose child is that?
Soras, Majesty.
I wouldnt have believed it, my dear. Why, you look
only... And you are the father, Uos?
Thats not certain, majesty.
And yet shes fussy about me, the Emperor muttered
loudly.
When Griron had plopped down into place, Pol-Chi
said,
The drummers, Emperor?
KENHARTDU!
Four drummers came running up over the brow of the
hill, eyes starting, mouths gaping. They ran up and waited,
panting furiously, clutching drums and sticks in spasming
hands and arms.
Where do you want them, Pol-Chi?
Over there, Pol-Chi replied, pointing behind Little
Ki.
Right, drummers, get over there. Hurry!
The drummers hurried. When they had settled
themselves, Pol-Chi leaned around Little Ki. and said to
them:
318

This beat bump-bum, bump-bum, bump-bum, bumpbum. Yes, thats it. Bump-bum...Good... When I signal like
this... No. In a moment...when I do signal, beat out that tattoo
only thirty times. Understand? Thirty times? Good. Then
stop! Right. Ready yourselves.
Pol-Chi turned back to his circle.
Now, when the drumming starts, we will hold hands. I
warn you now, once we have clasped hands, theres no letting
go. Then well take it from there... Youll see.
Pol-Chi shivered. The Emperor tried to take Soras
hand immediately, but she pulled away.
Be patient, majesty, Uos said, weary with tension.
Then Pol-Chi signalled the drummers.
Bump-bum, bump-bum, bump-bum.
Drums up on the ridge took up the beat Bump-bum, bump-bum, bump-bum, bump-bum.
The sound grew as drums further away on either side
picked it up. In a very short time, all the drums of the Hu-AnAkar were pounding in unison BUMP-BUM, BUMP-BUM, BUMP-BUM...
Pol-Chi took the hands of Little Ki and Sora. Uos and
the Emperor reached for adjacent hands.
A powerful ripple went round the group, going from
Pol-Chi to Sora to the Emperor to Griron to Uos to Little Ki.
It earthed itself in Little Ki and she threw her head up, her
nipples stood out then she gave a long scream of
pleasure.
The drum beat was powerful, reverberating through the
ground, echoing in the river mist.
BUMP-BUM, BUMP-BUM, BUMP-BUM...
319

Another powerful ripple began, this time with the

Emperor, and ran through Griron to Uos to Little Ki to PolChi to Sora. It earthed in Sora and she screamed, her breasts
pointing, her thighs quivering.
Almost immediately another ripple began, now from
Little Ki, running through Uos to Griron to the Emperor to
the shuddering Sora to Pol-Chi. It earthed here and Pol-Chis
lips curled back, eyes closed, his stomach muscles spasming,
scrotum jumping in the fur of the skin under him.
Another ripple. From little Griron it ran through Uos,
Little Ki, Pol-Chi, Sora, to the Emperor, who screamed and
swore, dancing from buttock to buttock as though the ground
was hot. The next ripple was faster, another one followed
immediately, then another. Little Ki squealed, then Griron
cried out, then Sora, then
all six were shaking and jerking, tremoring and
grunting, squealing, shouting and screaming.
Now it seemed as though just one ripple shot from
person to person, going round and round the circle
TOTAL SILENCE
the rippling ceased instantly.
Pol-Chi intoned in the silence:
Kinsmen, I greet you at the End. Before you is the AnAkar, the yellow mist of death. Behind you, your past is
dead, as nothing. Around you, your world is dead, as no
thing.
Kinsmen, you must pass through the An-Akar in order
to get beyond this nothing.
Here in the entrance to the An-Akar there is no hope.
Here in the Last Days there is nothing to be done.
320

Here in the face of death there is nothing to be

desired.
Here in the yellow mist there is nothing to be thought.
Kinsmen, at the End YOU ARE NOTHING!
There is no-thing anymore, for this is the End.
Say it, Kinsmen: I AM NOTHING.
Again! I-AM NO-THING
Again! I-AM NO-THING
Now, Kinsmen, in your nothingness
SEE THE MIRACLE
SEE ALL THERE IS TO BE SEEN
SEE THE TRUTH OF MAN.
In the intense stillness, a voice in the distance
screamed,
Noooooooooooo...
Then a long wail from somewhere else.
The Emperor tried to break Grirons clasp of his hand

he couldnt.
He began,
Pol...
And his voice froze.
Then
Twenty-five thousand front rank soldiers gasped
And
What are you doing here?
Being present, of course.
Indeed. Is that what you call it? Its a pretty gross
presence. Where are you from?
Earth?
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Wheres that? Oh, wait. Materiality. Puts you about

two hundred fiftyish. How did you manage it?
The An-Akar?
Whats that? Hold on, I must refine translation. Ah.
Death. Materiality is very gross. Got it. Precisely. Two
hundred and fifty six. Thats a crucial one. You did well. It
takes most of you about, eh, well, twelve erks, to get through
that particular hoop. Tell me, though, what power did you
use?
Power? Where am I?
Power. Lets get that straightened out first. You didnt
do it on your own. Youd have to be at three fifty at least.
Do you mean the Hu-an-Akar?
Oh, I see now. Very ingenious. I think thats original.
How many?
About five million.
No, it cant be that only. Not powerful enough. Youd
need twice that.
Perhaps that. I had my suspicions.
Yes, ten million would do it. The end of an Age?
Yes.
You show great skill for a two fifty six, do you know
that? But well done, anyway. Though... Perhaps we can leave
that for the moment. Tell me... oh, what is your name?
Trinkanbrikar.
So you have done it. Congratulations. No one I know
has ever managed such a leap. I look forward to experiencing
your next move.
Where am I?

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In a moment, Trinkanbrikar. Oh, alright, though itll

take you about an erk to adjust. By the scale we use, youre
now in the five hundred and twenty ninth Aeon.
Oh, its an arbitrary system. If the truth is to be told,
no one knows much about the Aeons. Should I explain?
Perhaps I should. Well, let me put it like this. At this level,
we reckon there are about, roughly, ten thousand Aeons.
Think of them as levels of, em, experience, rising from the
grossest premateriality to what our philosophers call pure
being, though they cant describe that state. For my part, a lot
of that speculation is hocus-pocus. Im really a...what you
might call a scientist, though I suspect theres no
comparison.
Whats your name?
Piltorripalor.
What do you look like, Piltorripalor?
Much as you do, Trinkanbrikar. Appearance in
general doesnt change much. There are, eh, new
developments, and youll lose unnecessary elements and
aspects. But youll remain recognisable.
But I cant see you.
Of course not, Trinkanbrikar. Those material senses
are too gross at this level. But give it time. Itll only take, as I
say, one erk for your latent senses to develop. Then youll
be aware of me.
And thats why its dark?
Yes. Thats it. The Aeons above always appear as
darkness. Even for me. Thats why I think all this theorising
is such nonsense. You cant know until you experience... But
even then, Im not sure.
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Am I among the stars, Piltorripalor? I know two

people from the stars.
What stars? Oh, I remember now. How long ago that
was.
Have you been on earth?
You mean your Aeon? Of course. Thats one thing
were all agreed on, Trinkanbrikar. Everyone must pass up
through the Aeons. Yes. I was at two five six. Actually, I was
stuck there for about five erks. Horrendous experience...
What is an erk, Piltorripalor?
An erk? Its an arbitrary measurement of...eh, being
present, as you call it. About fifty million years at your old
level, though, of course, its not the same kind of experience.
I mean, there are other measures, which are more meaningful
here, that have larger units, ranging from about one hundred
million years to over two thousand five hundred millions of
years. But, as I say, its all pretty arbitrary. Actually,
Trinkanbrikar, my advice to you is to avoid all this
speculation, though I suspect, on what I know of you already,
that you will. The danger, as in all Aeons, is to fall into the
trap of believing in illusions.
Ah. that I do understand, Piltorripalor.
Good. Now, where were we? Ah, yes. If it hadnt been
for my friend, Sin Canor, who, by the way, discovered in our
Age at two fifty six how to get into the other universes, I
think I would still be trapped at two fifty seven, after what we
then called death. Do they still have that concept at two fifty
six, Trinkanbrikar?
Yes. Its hard to make them believe otherwise.
I appreciate that. I suppose its an essential part of that
Aeon. I mean, the awakening, as such, which begins there is
324

pretty frightening. You cant blame them, I suppose, for

trying to stop it. Anyway, they learn very quickly that death
is an illusion.
I agree, Piltorripalor. When I called them up, all they
did was complain that they werent dead, I tried to tell them
what to do, but I dont know whether they will try or not.
They seem to want someone else to do it for them.
As a matter of curiosity, what did you tell them?
I told them to look to themselves.
Yes, you obviously know the answer. Its surprisingly
easy once you know about it. I mean, that was my view once
I finally understood what Sin Canor had told me all those
erks previously. But Sin was like you, Trinkanbrikar. He
really worked at it. Once he found his way into the other
universes, he gathered all the, eh, power he could and away
with him.
Where is he now, Piltorripalor?
Goodness knows. He came to see me once, when I
was at four four four. Its not often, you know, that anyone
bothers to descend the Aeons. Anyway he obviously did it
out of friendship. Couldnt stay long. Then he was at Aeon
six thousand seven hundred and something, though he said
they use a different scale there. One thing he told me though,
and Ill pass it on to you, because you are like him, was this:
he said to watch for the spiral. He said if I could grasp that,
even though it will become an illusion, I could rise fairly
rapidly to at least the three thousandth Aeon. So, there you
are, Trinkanbrikar, my friend, look out for the spiral.
Thank you, Piltorripalor. Ill value your friendship.
Good. Then I can help you get used to this place. I
know itll seem difficult conceptually at first. After all, you
325

had only twenty-two dimensions to deal with. Here there are

one thousand and forty eight. Look, Ill tell you what to do to
start with. Tune to the, oh, power you used to get here. Do it.
Its relatively easy.
Ah, yes. I feel it.
Good. Now gather it. Slowly. Thats it. Itll
recompose your, well, your form. Got it?
Yes. Yes. I see, or sense, or something, a kind of
glow...Ah... Oh, how beautiful, Piltorripalor.
Of course, I forgot that. Yes, it will appear a bit
overwhelming at first. But youll get used to it. Mind you,
there are some beautiful, eh, experiences here... Now, turn, as
it were. Thats right. Focus your, eh, power form. Thats it.
Now, can you see me?
Why, yes. I see what you mean about similarity of
form, though, of course, it is at the same time very different.
Do you know, and I suppose its only a coincidence, but you
do remind me of someone.
Do I? Well, thats nice. You wont feel so lonely
while youre accustoming yourself to this Aeon. But tell me,
to satisfy my curiosity, who do I look like?
Ah, he was a scientist, too, Piltorripalor. Same red, eh,
well, redness-kind, skin, eh, emanation.
Is he in the illusion of death?
Im afraid so.
No matter, Trinkanbrikar. If youve told him what to
do, hell get out pretty soon.
But tell me, Piltorripalor, if you can, that is, what of
the others?
Others? Oh, you mean the two five sevens? Well, I
think youve done what you can for them. I know Sin showed
326

the way to about, oh, seventy-six billion two five sevens.

Perhaps youll do the same.
And what about the five ten millions I used for
power?
Ah, thats more difficult. Most of them will believe in
death, Trinkanbrikar. They have to do their stint in two five
seven. But if it is any help to you, a lot of them will have
some clue about what to do. I presume you told them what
they should do.
Yes, I did. Made sure every soldier could hear it.
Youre very considerate, Trinkanbrikar. I know some
whove got on by exploiting billions and not a backward
look. But there you are, Trin, thats the way it goes.
Do you think I could return for a while, Piltorripalor?
Call me, Pilto, Trin, These names are really too long.
Its the language in our present Age. Polysyllabic. Everything
is a mouthful. Yes, you can, of course, if you want to. Its
unusual, as Ive said. Now, you should be able to move along
the Aeons with a fair amount of ease, now that youve done it
once.
Good. But tell me one thing before I go, Pilto. Can
you discern. any purpose in the whole thing? Wait, Ill tell
you why. Back on two fifty-six, as you call it, I learned by
degrees that there had been many Ages on earth, over
millions of years, so that countless millions of men had
existed. Now Im learning that there are many Aeons. As I
grow in experience, I seem to be confronted by larger and
larger numbers, so to speak. Im beginning to suspect, Pilto,
that were involved with multiple infinities. Now, can you, on
this level, discern any purpose?
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A good question. I suppose that question lies behind

all human thought. Well, let me start this way. How many
Ages do you think there have been on earth?
I was told about one thousand and seven hundred.
I thought so. Well, Ill tell you. Multiply the number
of years you think have passed since the beginning by the
number of men you think have existed in that time, and you
know some kind of fraction of all the human Ages of two five
six to date. But look at it another way, Trin, think about
number itself as simple quantity. Now, any number you can
list, I can add one to it. So the series is infinite. Now, I ask
you, if the number series is infinite, why shouldnt, eh,
creation be infinite also?
But, Pilto, what about the number one? The series
starts there. So there must have been a beginning.
A common assumption, Trin. But see it this way. We
apply the number one in an arbitrary manner, simply for the
sake of enumeration. Again there is the minus series, which
extends the axis back through nought.
Minus series?
Oh, you havent got that in your Age? Anyway, the
argument doesnt depend on that. Let me put it another way.
You say your Age, the one youve just left, is about number
one thousand seven hundred and something. So you have
some idea of a first Age, and you can calculate some date for
it, even if it is a pretty big number...
About six hundred million years.
Yes, thats it. Well, from another perspective, your
Age is about the twelve millionth, so that your Age number
one is only the eleventh million and such and such Age. Can
you see that?
328

Yes. It seems to me that nought is where you are, and

the numbers extend from that point, in all dimensions, to
infinity.
Ah, thats a good way to look at it. But how could you
measure when youre in motion too? You just remain nought.
And it gets more complicated when you take account of
number as quality.
As quality?
Oh, yes. Theres a fairly elaborate knowledge of that
here, but its hard to grasp it whole, I mean, its an
immensely complicated, eh, system. I personally think that
getting beyond words and language is relatively easy, usually
achieved at around three sixty or so. But getting beyond
number as quality, which I suspect is the next major hurdle
after getting beyond number as quantity, may require a huge
number, I dont mean to pun, of Aeons. Goodness knows
whats beyond that.
And purpose, Pilto?
None that I can see, Trin. Just keep moving.
Motion is free, then?
Motion is free thats a good concept, Trin. Yes, I
like that. You think motion lies at the bottom of it all?
I dont know. I suspect it doesnt. Its too simple an
answer. Perhaps there are no answers, Pilto, only questions.
Oh, thats nice, Trin. No answers, only questions.
Youre a good philosopher. I look forward to hearing more
when you get back.
I was a poet once, Pilto...Will I arrive back at this
point?

329

It doesnt matter. Ill spread my, ah, form. Ill know

the instant you return and come to you. Anyway, you wont
be long gone. Temporality differs, you know.
Good. But one last thing for now, Pilto. This business
of successive Ages and Aeons, are they in series?
Good question, Trin. Numeration would make them
appear so, but that might be an illusion only. They might be
simultaneous, or organised under qualities, though I suspect
the growing preoccupation with number as quality underlies
that hypothesis. Anyway, there was a woman I knew once, on
five nought three, who said that the best concept was that
anywhere could be everywhere, and anyone could be
everyone. She agreed that it was pretty meaningless, but she
said it had the virtue of keeping the, eh, mind open. So there.
Ill let you go for now. Trin. Do hurry back. I look forward to
your company. Stimulating.
I wont be long, friend Pilto.
Pol-Chi! Little Ki took a gulping breath. You
disappeared!
Did I?
Uos said quietly.
So did Griron.
You returned, Griron?
You did, Pol-Chi.
Yes. But why did you?
Griron shrugged his pudgy little shoulders.
Perhaps I can help.
Where were you?
The Kalo of Symerk. You?
They enumerate them there. Aeon five hundred and
twenty-nine.
330

Griron nodded.
Why have you returned? You seemed to have
advanced far.
The Emperor found his tongue loosened.
How can this child talk?
I dont know, Griron. To say farewell, perhaps.
Uos said:
Where were you, Pol-Chi?
In another Aeon, Uos.
Aeon?
Yes, about twice as far as this from... Well, fairly
advanced.
But whats an Aeon?
I dont know. Like an Age, I suppose, but on another
level or plane.
Should I grow up now, Pol-Chi? Im not sure. I seem
to upset the Emperor.
Do you want to, Griron?
I KNEW IT WOULDNT WORK, UOS, Sora
screamed with rage.
No. Id rather let it take its own course, Pol-Chi.
Youre all mad! How can this brat speak like that? Its
only about a year old.
Are you going to leave us soon, Pol-Chi? Little Ki
began to cry gently.
The soldiers gasped again, louder because more
soldiers could see.
Oh, shut up, majesty. You can be such a pain in the
arse at times.
Thats wise, Griron. Dont cry, Little Ki. Ill try to
explain later.
331

Dont you tell me to shut up, you runty little bastard!

We should have pulled out months ago, Tarko, when I
suggested it...
Tarko? Who the fuck is Tarko? I thought he was called
Uos. And just who are you, little bitch?
The Emperor stood up and screamed:
SPIES!
I cant help my feeling, Pol-Chi. But Ive grown so
attached to you, Black Bull.
A third gasp
came from the other side of the river.
It was the Emperor, standing up, who said:
Oh. no!
The mist had cleared. The river was wide, with a
gently inclining slope leading up to the plain on the far side.
As far as the eye could see in the misty yellow dawn,
there were yellow-clad soldiers pressing down that slope to
the river, all chanting in their own language to the beat,
BUMP-BUM, BUMP-BUM, BUMP-BUM.
Below them, the Emperor, Griron and Pol-Chi saw
their own Hu-An-Akar press forward down the slope to the
river, all chanting, I-AM NO-THING, I-AM NO-THING, IAM NO-THING...
The Emperor gave Pol-Chi a venomous glance.
Some invasion, eh?
Pol-Chi was reasonable.
What did you expect? They either heard about our
preparations, or else they followed the same law as we did.
What fucking law are you talking about?
A cosmic law, I suppose. I dont know. Who do you
think I am anyway? God?
332

The Emperor laughed with forced sarcasm.

A fucking madman, thats what!
But the Emperor suddenly looked busy.
Anyway, well have to make the most of it. First thing
though, Pol-Chi, as Emperor of the Sun I dismiss you from
all ranks and privileges you possess as a member of my
Army. Right? Get it, black? Youre no longer in the Army.
So dont try to stop me or Ill cut you down. He glanced
down at Uos and Sora and said musingly above the, growing
uproar below: I should have known there was something
dickey about them.
Then he ran off down the hill towards the front of his
Army, gesticulating wildly, calling for his Army Lords.
Griron and Pol-Chi watched him. Theyll fight now, I
suppose.
I suppose they will, Griron. What else can they do
now?
Well, Griron said meditatively, looking up at the sky.
I could divert Ilgem.
Is there any point? The disappointment would be
enough to drive everyone mad.
Griron nodded earnestly.
Thats a thing alright. Let them fight then. It wont
make much difference in the end.
No. I dont think so. Anyway, Griron, how many do
you think were translated?
Its hard to judge. Perhaps a thousand at most.
Out of five million? Hardly seems worth it, does it?
They had their chance, Pol-Chi. What more could you
do?
333

Better preparations, Griron. Perhaps I should have

organised it as a religion.
Goodness no, Pol-Chi. Better this way. The fear was
kept real.
Perhaps. Anyway, I was told that many of them
probably got the idea, though it will take erks for it to sink
in.
Erks?
The unit of time of five two nine. Its fairly long by
comparison with here. Oh, this is Aeon two five six, by the
way.
Griron nodded, intent on the movement below.
This is the Kalo of Glung according to Symerk.
Griron turned away, looking over at the remainder of
the circle of friends.
What will you do? Pol-Ch asked.
Oh, go with Sora and Uos, as they have planned.
Theyre taking me to their place, a planet or something.
When this is over, they intend bringing me back as some kind
of Dawn of Age Sage. You know, the kind of person the
legends are told about.
Pol-Chi accompanied him back to the circle.
I thought it would be something like that. I suppose
itll serve some purpose.
Well, Ill use it to get the next Age onto the right idea
from the start. You know, Ive learned a lot from you, PolChi. Youre quite brilliant.
No doubt theyll think the same of you in the next
Age.
Griron turned away, saying dispassionately, No
doubt.
334

Pol-Chi went over to Little Ki and bent to take her

hand.
Sora said,
Why did you push things so far, Pol-Chi? Its gone
completely out of hand. She pointed off the hill. Look,
theyre going to start butchering each other. Ten million
men.
Do you think they would ever have done otherwise,
Sora? By the way, whats your real name. I know Uos is
Tarko. Whats yours?
Sora raised her tear-stained face.
I dont suppose it matters now. Its Kalistera.
She began to cry helplessly, looking pitiable.
Oh, Pol-Chi, its such a mess! Where did we go
wrong?
Uos-Tarko hurried over and put his arms around her,
helping her up. She blubbered:
I tried my best, Tarko. Honestly. Look at the things I
did to help. I even had a child here, under these conditions.
There now, Sora, eh, Kalistera, Uos said
consolingly. I know you did everything you could. And PolChi knows that too. Dont you, Pol-Chi?
Pol-Chi and Little Ki went over to them.
Look, Sora-Kalistera, without you, this would not
have worked. Now believe me.
Griron said at knee level:
Why dont you let her rest, father? Its all been a great
shock to mother.
The words transfixed Uos-Tarko and Sora-Kalistera.
Together, they bent to him, and Uos-Tarko helped SoraKalistera pick him up.
335

Murmuring endearments to one another, the three went

off to their pavilion.
Pol-Chi and Little Ki paused to watch the first soldiers
enter the river, brandishing axes and spears.
They were entering the water of the other side too. Ten
million soldiers were chanting to the beat, BUMP-BUM,
BUMP-BUM, BUMP-BUM...
Then Pol-Chi noticed something. To Little Ki, he said,
The river water is green...
Little Ki laughed, shivering her beautiful body.
Of course it is, Pol-Chi. Didnt you say theyd enter
the Ek-Min, the Green Field, the Space of Peace?
Pol-Chi nodded, then said, And the Green Stone? The
Ser-Gal?
Both looked north.
As they walked slowly to their pavilion, the first streak
of lightning crossed the sky, a huge bolt that seemed to split
the vault of the heavens open.
Over the tremendous crash of thunder, Pol-Chi said,
The Last Days for certain.
At last, Little Ki replied, looking satisfied. Weve all
waited long enough.
Later, after Pol-Chi had given Little Ki what she
needed to cheer her up, he asked her:
Did you experience anything?
Little Ki shook her ample breasts with amusement.
Yes, Pol-Chi, Im to be the goddess of the next Age.
Pol-Chi stilled her rolling breasts.
Appropriate.

336

Chapter Twenty
When the last pavilion blew away, Pol-Chi, Little Ki,
Uos-Tarko, Sora-Kalistera, and Griron found themselves
exposed to the eschatological elements.
Wed better find shelter if were going to hang around
here, Uos said, shivering already.
A stark, branching fork of lightning pierced the cloud,
seeking earth in the west. Immediately, thunder crashed and
rolled and reverberated all around them.
The powerful winds were unrelenting, the torrential
rain unceasing.
Pol-Chi rubbed his soaking hair and looked at his hand.
We could take these skins into the lee of the hill.
Sora stood up and a gust blew her over, sending her
staggering through the wet grass.
The others concentrated on gathering up the skins, bent
and tensed against the wind and rain.
More lightning, splitting the air above them. The
thunder was deafening, churning their stomachs.
Griron attached himself to Little Ki, who best
withstood the storm.
Pol-Chi led the way, rolled skins against his chest, out
of the rain. Sora groped for his arm, her hair plastered to her
face.
The south-facing slope of the hill did offer shelter,
from the wind though not from the rain.
When they were all huddled together under an
embankment, skins wrapped about them. Uos asked:
Why are we hanging around here?
337

They looked at one another. Little Ki answered.

Perhaps we are reluctant to leave earth.
I dont know why, Sora said bitterly. Its a pretty
lousy place anyway.
I dont know, Uos said philosophically. There were
some good times. What do you say, Pol-Chi?
Pol-Chi removed his attention from the fighting and
drowning below.
Yes. This reminds me of the other storm. That was a
good experience. We were very close then.
Uos lowered his head, remembering.
Unmollified, Sora said scathingly:
It was alright for you, Commander of the Expedition.
But I had to accommodate four of you.
The combined stares of Uos and Pol-Chi stopped her.
She nodded resignedly.
I know you two were considerate. But that aristocrat
looney, Hepteidon, I thought he would ruin me. I could never
get moist with him. Hed just pump away with that
ferociously earnest look on his face.
And what about Korkungal? Uos asked, disgust
rising in his voice.
Surprisingly, Sora softened.
Ah, Korkungal. He was the best, you know. She
started to cry, softly and easily. He was so gentle. Like a
child. A big child.
He softened your heart, Sora? Pol-Chi prompted with
intensity.
Sora nodded, sniffing loudly.
But he was like a bull when he got down to it, Uos
suggested without malice.
338

Sora stopped crying and stared before her.

Wasnt he, though? she murmured, remembering.
She started crying again, more loudly than before.
But I couldnt show my feelings for him. I had to play
that awful role as Sora the Silent. She edged towards
hysteria. Why did that madman have to kill him, Tarko?
Korkungal couldve come with us. I know he would if I had
asked him.
Uos shuffled and shifted until he was beside her. He
put his arms around her and brought her head down to his
chest.
Her wailing was the equal of the wind and the bustle of
battle below.
Pol-Chi watched about a thousand Imperial axemen, in
line, clamber up the bodies of their butchered and drowned
kinsmen, slipping, tripping, dropping weapons and groping in
the blinding wind and rain to retrieve them, following a long
line of spearmen out over the piled high corpses to engage
approaching lines of soldiers of the Empire of the Dawn.
Enough men, from both sides, had fallen to dam up the
river, though rivulets and streams were finding their way
along the floor of the river valley.
There was mud, blood, and yellow cloth and armour
everywhere.
How many so far, do you think, Pol-Chi? Little Ki
asked compassionately.
I dont know. About a million, I reckon.
In three days? How long can it go one?
Well, a huge number were drowned in the first days. It
was only early this morning that they actually started
fighting.
339

But how long can it go on?

Well, the numbers dying each day will drop, now that
less are drowning. And theyll drop further as they tire.
About three or four months.
Wont they stop?
Why should they, Little Ki? Theyve nothing else to
do and nowhere else to go.
From below came the same old chant:
I-AM NO-THING, I-AM NO-THING, I-AM NOTHING....
The other army chanted the same thing, in their own
language.
A troop of heavily armed cavalry tried to get their
horses up onto the dam of corpses, but they refused. Chanting
loudly and hoarsely, they dismounted together, formed a line,
and waded up onto the bodies of their slain and drowned
kinsmen.
Uos spoke with a note of criticism in his voice:
There could have been another way of doing this, PolChi.
Such as? Pol-Chi asked mildly.
Come on, Pol-Chi. It could have been less, less bloody
and chaotic.
Dont you understand, Uos? Theyre soldiers. If they
had stayed in the homelands, they would be running amok
now. Its their only way of handling this sort of situation.
Pol-Chi glanced down into the valley. Anyway, look, have
you ever seen a battle fought in better order or with such
dedication? I havent.

340

Thats bloody callous of you, Pol-Chi, Uos said

bitterly. He pointed down in a rhetorical gesture. Theyre
men. Human beings.
Pol-Chi was reasonable.
Callous perhaps. But true. Anyway, Uos, what did
you plan?
Uos looked at Sora, who looked away, red-eyed and
wet.
Well, we hoped that...well, dignity, anyway. I mean,
there was little we could actually do. We...I hoped that they
could face the inevitable with dignity.
Pol-Chi leaned forward.
It mightve been better if you hadnt interfered. The
two of you really created panic with your prophecies and
manipu1ations. He pointed at Sora. She bitches about poor
Hepteidon. He addressed Sora herself. Has it ever dawned
on you that it was your manipulation of him at the beginning
that damaged him?
Sora chewed her knuckles. We didnt think he would
torture the old man to death.
Uos butted in.
It was that High Priest who messed things up. He was
too clever by half. He enjoyed his own game of baiting
immensely.
Nevertheless, it was you two who set up the whole
thing. If you hadnt interfered and I accept that you meant
well we would have gone about it in our own way.
Now Uos leaned forward.
And would it have been any different from this mess?
I mean, we did invent the rumours about the Beast and the
341

Chosen. The least we did there was to ensure that there was a
Chosen. He gestured to Griron.
The ground quaked, worse this time than ever before.
Little Ki braced herself, the soaking robe clinging to
her body allowing every little tremble and roll to be clearly
seen.
Uos, she asked with forced calm. How soon now?
Im not sure, Little Ki. I havent seen Ilgem since
yesterday morning. But I think itll pass at about quarter the
moons orbital radius. Perhaps today or tomorrow. Thatll be
the worst point.
Will it get worse than this?
Oh yes, much worse.
Griron peeked around his mother.
You have a great sympathy for the earth, Little Ki,
havent you?
Yes, Griron. I feel it all inside me, here. She pointed
to her left quaking breast.
Griron nodded seriously.
Thats good. I think thats important, Little Ki.
Multiple bolts of lightning streaked down. One hit a
body of soldiers up on the valley side. The thunder was
sickeningly loud.
Uos coughed above the uproar.
Look, were going to have to go soon. We cant whisk
off to other dimensions at the last moment.
Pol-Chi looked up.
That reminds me, Uos. What did you experience in
the circle?
Me? Uos shrugged dismissively. I thought those
shocks we had would kill me. But there was nothing
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spectacular as you and Griron, and Little Ki seem to have

had.
Nothing at all, Uos? Pol-Chi insisted. But you
seemed the best prepared of us all.
Uos shook his head sadly and his voice betrayed
regret.
You said it yourself, Pol-Chi. Without belief or
openness, nothing happens. My race is too old for belief. At
least, until recently I thought we were old. He let the regret
run in him. Look, Pol-Chi, I think, for my part anyway, I
dont know about Sora, that I made a mistake at that event.
You see, I thought my race...I knew everything. Our
civilization is three million years old, and we do boast to the
other systems that we are the oldest human civilization. But
here Ive learned that the human race is vastly older than I
thought. And if you are right, the whole thing is infinitely
older than even the archivists of Mu-Ra thought.
But the other day I simply refused to let anything
happen to me. I admit that I used to think, again until
recently, that living three and a half thousand years was a
good thing in itself. Now Im tempted to consider it as
meaningless. Even so, Pol-Chi, I have decided, and this is
why I withstood all the temptations the other day, to live out
my natural life rather than seek transcendence or translation,
or whatever it is. I intend, when this catastrophe is over, to
return to earth and help the new Age. I will work with the
archivists to open their records to the next Age as soon as
possible. Another thing, Pol-Chi, I suspect there are other,
more ancient, archives, hidden in the earth. Ill try to find
them and have them studied...
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But why, Uos? All that knowledge will add nothing

to the real meaning of life.
You forget, Pol-Chi, that the ignorance here among
men, even at the highest levels, is abysmal. No wonder its so
difficult for man to transcend or translate to the next level or
whatever. I want to give the next Age some kind of head-start
and so avoid this kind of morass at the end of the Age.
How so, Uos? Youre still talking about abstract
knowledge, about illusion. Look at those men down there.
How many of them will achieve translation, do you think? Id
say more than would under normal conditions. Look, Uos,
cant you see this? Knowledge merely blinds men. These
men below are in the absolute extremities of fear, obsession
and panic. They are literally marching into the unknown, the
nothingness. Now, thats the only way to do it. You must
enter into your fear. All you want to do, as you are doing for
yourself now, is to build bulwarks against fear. Uos, theres
no rational solution to fear. Cant you see that, wise old
friend? Fear is the very foundation of your life. It is the
dawning of enlightenment. You must enter it in order to learn
the truth about men. And that truth is this: that men are
perpetually on the way to somewhere else. Uos, there is no
stopping, nor is there any turning back.
Uos looked thoroughly dejected.
Pol-Chi, I dont doubt that what you have to say has
some kind of truth to it. But I dont understand it. I cant see.
How can I know what cant by its very nature be known? I
just cant do it.
Pol-Chi nodded patiently.

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Very well, Uos, have it your own way. All I can do is

show you the possibility. I cant show you any more. You
have to experience it for yourself.
Uos lips quivered, as though he were about to cry.
Little Ki reached and touched his hand.
Cry, friend Uos. Let go.
And he did, shoulders shaking miserably, head bowed.
What about you, Sora? Pol-Chi asked after a
lingering, sympathetic glance at Uos.
Sora also looked at Uos, but she set her face as she
turned to Pol-Chi.
To start with, Pol-Chi, I agree with Tarko, that is,
Uos. We came here to do what we could for you. I suppose
it was inevitable that it would end up in a mess. Things
mostly do. Anyway, for what its worth, I am one thousand
and eighty-two years old. Dont look so surprised. We have
methods for rejuvenating the body, if not the mind. She
paused and looked at Little Ki. I suppose I had better go
through the whole thing. Look, Pol-Chi, I might as well say
this at the outset, I dont believe all this nonsense about fear.
You really get yourself wound up about it. I do believe that if
wed gone about this business more calmly, in a more
practical, down-to-earth, way, (A shower of hail came on,
and they all crouched under the skins.) it might have come
out better. Anyway, its too late to worry about that.
But returning to the other point, I think all this fear
arises because you all refuse to accept life as it is. Thats
what I liked about Korkungal. He never fussed about life and
purpose and all the other big questions you bother yourself
with. I know he suffered from what we call acute separation,
but that can happen to anybody who is suddenly dropped into
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a strange culture, especially if it is a relatively advanced one.

And one of the chief symptoms of that state is a sense of
being dead, which leads to apathy. But, given time,
Korkungal would have adjusted. But he was not given the
chance. Everyone, it seems to me, picked fights with him.
You dont know how he suffered afterwards. It was terribly
unjust. Why did he have to suffer for everyones egotism?
Now Ill grant you, Pol-Chi, that you were a good
man and that you had real needs. But I think you went
through your own kind of separation when you came back up
here. Whats happened to you since then, I dont know, but
you have become callous and mocking. Its a great pity. I
must tell you this, Pol-Chi, her face strained with earnest
appeal, but I did come to love you in some way. She caught
his hand. You were so perceptive as a poet, do you know
that? You had such knowledge of me that I felt opened up...
And what happened then, lovely Sora? Pol-Chi asked
gently, seeing the effect of his words on her.
Oh, I dont know, Pol-Chi. She started to cry again.
There was too much pressure. Trying to handle that maniac
Hepteidon made everything else impossible. Oh, Pol-Chi, I
did try to give you everything. Now she was reproachful.
But you began to demand too much. I mean, Pol-Chi, these
last months have been dreadful, what between your attitude
and the thing you were doing, it was simply impossible to
relate to you. All I can say is that Im glad Little Ki was
here, (She smiled wanly at Little Ki, who was staring at her
in amazement.) otherwise, goodness knows what would have
happened.
Pol-Chi took her hand gently.
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But the circle, Sora. What did you experience there?

Sora gave a long shudder.
Oh, that was too much. That dreadful Hepteidon
appeared beside me, holding a big erection and smiling
blissfully. I mean, Pol-Chi, I didnt even like the man. It was
bad enough to play the role I had, without putting up with
him after it was all over.
You could never understand, Sora, that Hepteidon
always sought to give you something. He thought it was the
only way to save himself.
Me? Im no saviour, Pol-Chi. I do what I can for
people in need, but Im not any kind of mystic.
The ground shook again. From deep within the earth
they heard a terrible drawn-out groaning. In the valley, the
endless chanting was punctuated by screams. A large crack
appeared across the valley. Where there had been thousands
of milling soldiers, there was now only a dark chasm.
Lightning crackled, adding to the turmoil. The
accompanying thunder echoed the complaining earth.
Uos said:
It must be close now. Lets go up on to the hill.
As they sorted the skins, each taking one. Pol-Chi knelt
beside Sora and said softly:
Sora, I made you a goddess. Why dont you help
Hepteidon?
She brought her head up in surprise.
What do you mean, goddess? I thought that was one
of your jokes.
How do you think all this was possible? The only
power I had came from you.
I dont understand, Pol-Chi. What power?
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Try it, Sora. Call Hepteidon out.

Sora stared at him, frankly sceptical. Then she returned
to the task of wrapping the skin around her shoulders.
Oh, try it at least, Sora. Youve nothing to lose.
She pulled the skin over her head.
How do I do it?
Just call him out, Sora. Concentrate without thinking.
The power is in you.
But what could I do anyway, Pol-Chi? I dont know
anything about these things.
Try it anyway. Youll see what to do as the situation
warrants.
Sora looked at him intently. Nodding, the remote look
came into her eyes.
Sora! Ah, Pol-Chi. Is it the end already?
Hepteidon crouched beside them, rain beginning to run
over his long black hair.
Sora put her knuckles in her mouth and stared at
Hepteidon.
Go on. Pol-Chi prompted.
How...how can I help you, Hepteidon? she
stammered, then added quickly. Pol-Chi says I can help
you.
Forgive me, Sora, for the things I did, Hepteidon said
urgently.
But they were not your fault, Sora said seriously.
Oh, Sora, they were no ones fault. Get on with it.
Dont start agonising.
Alright, Pol-Chi. But I have to see whats to be done. I
know. Did you find your father, Hepteidon?
Shaking his head impatiently, Hepteidon said:
348

Dont bother about that any more, Sora. He glanced

at Pol-Chi and smiled. Friendship is more precious.
How? Oh. She put her hand on his and closed her
eyes.
Hepteidon brightened with joy, said Thanks, lovely
Sora, and disappeared.
Sora snapped her eyes open.
Where did he go?
Pol-Chi shrugged.
I dont know. But I think it worked. Thank you, Sora.
Sora sat back on the wet ground, stunned.
It did work. You were right, Pol-Chi. I dont
understand.
Pol-Chi was suddenly brisk.
Dont worry about that, Sora. Theres not much time
left. Call out Korkungal. Help him now.
Sora closed her eyes.
Korkungal blinked and rubbed his jaw.
Sora immediately embraced him as best she could.
Commander, I hear great things about you.
Thats over now, Brigan. Sora wants to help you.
What do you need?
Korkungal shook his head, suddenly cunning.
Ah, Sora. Sora, tell me, how is my son?
Sora started.
Your son?
Korkungal leaned towards her.
Dont take any notice of Uos claims. Im his father.
I know.
Sora nodded.
349

At that moment, Uos came back to find out what was

delaying Pol-Chi and Sora.
Korkungal!
Ah, old storyteller. Korkungal laughed. Youre wet,
old man. Youll catch your death. And laughed again.
Pol-Chi touched Soras shoulder.
Get on with it. Theres not much time.
Sora caught Korkungals huge hand. Korkungal, how
can I help save you?
Save me? Korkungal was puzzled. I thought I was
saved, as you call it. It is quiet where I am now.
Pol-Chi nudged Sora sharply in the ribs.
The ground tremored, and went on tremoring violently.
What are you, Korkungal? Quickly!
Korkungal looked into Soras eyes with serious intent.
Ah, Sora, it is true as the old storyteller said. I am the
Darkness in the Dark. Only I move there...
And disappeared.
Who else? Sora suddenly asked,
Before Pol-Chi could reply, Uos ran forward again.
Come on, Sora. We must leave now.
They struggled in a bunch, wrapped in skins, on to the
hill-top. But the wind was less strong and the rain had turned
to drizzle.
Uos went ahead, towards Griron, who sat huddled
with Little Ki in the centre of the flat hill-top.
Theres Korkungals priest, Sora. He was really
innocent too.
Sora shook her head seriously.
I know, I know, Pol-Chi. But there are so many
others.
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Pol-Chi stopped walking, catching Soras arm.

Well, you know your power now, Sora.
Uos called them urgently.
When they reached him, they discovered a round doorlike object suspended in the air, unaffected by the wind or
rain.
Whats that?
This is how we go home, Pol-Chi. Its on the other
side of that, er, door.
Let them look in, Tarko. It wont do any harm now.
Uos touched his left thumbnail. The door irised open.
Beyond was a spacious, gleaming chamber, mellow
yellow light pouring in huge windows on two sides.
Little Ki leaned in and sniffed. Thats your home?
Uos nodded. He picked Griron up and put him on the
floor inside.
Farewell, Griron.
Goodbye, Pol-Chi. Will we meet again?
Perhaps. Theres plenty of time.
Little Ki leaned in again and kissed Griron on the
mouth.
Goodbye, Griron.
The child smiled, his eyes already wise.
Come to me in the next Age, Black Goddess.
Little Ki clapped her hands and laughed.
Of course. I had forgotten.
Uos turned to Sora.
Come now, Sora.
Sora turned to Little Ki and embraced her. Then she
turned to Pol-Chi and threw her arms about him.
You learned silence, and more, poet.
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Yes, Lady. I conquered the Dark.

Laughter.
Can I really help them, Pol-Chi? Sora asked into his
ear.
Yes. Just go and do it.
Sora nodded against his face. Remembering suddenly,
he held her very tightly and whispered.
You still have my love, Lovely Sora.
She nodded again. He felt her tears on his face.
Then she turned away from him and embraced Uos,
much to his surprise.
Why?
But she was silent.
She leaned in and kissed Griron on the brow.
Goodbye, Mother.
Pol-Chi started and said loudly:
Wait, Sora. There is one last thing. She turned to him,
her eyes remote and alluring. Sora, you asked me to name
Griron. Very well, I do it now. Griron, henceforth you are to
be known as Ethe-Tan, which means the Green Child. You
are the Chosen, the new life, the new growth. Pol-Chi
embraced the child. Then he turned and embraced Uos.
Farewell, Pol-Chi. You are a good man.
And so are you, ancient one. Remember, theres
always time.
Uos was crying freely as he climbed into his home.
Little Ki rushed forward.
Uos!
Oh, Little Ki. He looked down at her breasts.
Hesitant at first, then encouraged by her, he touched them
lightly.
352

For whatever reason, Black Beauty, the Emperor was

right, you are perfection.
When he turned to find Sora again, he, and then all of
them, discovered that she had gone.
Uos shrugged. He raised his hand in farewell as the
door closed. It disappeared abruptly.
Little Ki ran into Pol-Chis arms. He held her.
They became aware of the groaning of the earth, the
rumblings of thunder in all parts of the heavens, and the
staccato chanting of the battling soldiers below.
Suddenly there was yellow light everywhere.
In the west, the clouds had parted. Ilgem hung,
covering the whole quarter, radiating a soft yellow lustre.
Lovely till the end, Pol-Chi commented, narrowing
his eyes against the immense glowing body.
The yellow tunics and armour of the fighting soldiers,
of the piled bodies of dead soldiers, of the deep mass of
soldiers extending up both sides of the valley onto the plain,
pressing forward to attack, reflected the light of Ilgem
brilliantly.
Like a field of buttercups, Little Ki said, stricken by
the beauty, by the sadness, the inevitability.
Then they became aware, behind all the groaning, the
rolling, the chants, cries and screams, of a new sound: a
steady, deep roar, which shook the ground in an ominous
way.
Little Ki snuggled into Pol-Chi.
I dont want to leave you, Pol-Chi, she said over the
uproar about them.
He held her tightly, marvelling again at the beautiful
shape of her.
353

One last time. Please, bull.

She knelt in the wet grass and mud, letting her
protective skin fall away. Pol-Chi lifted her gown and
kneeled behind her and clutched her pendulous breasts,
feeling again the beautiful, even lust that rose in him.
She whimpered when he entered her, pushing back
with all her strength. When he rammed into her again, she
screamed her loudest, pressing back to him feverishly,
pushing her breasts against his pressing hands, delighting in
the agony of it.
They both screamed at their climax, whooping, jigging,
riding, pushing, clawing, until Little Ki fell over into the mud
and Pol-Chi tipped over sideways, laughing, shouting,
sprawling in the mud.
When she had regained her breath she said,
Come with me for a while, Pol-Chi. Im sure thats
possible.
Why, Little Ki? We wont be corporeal there.
She looked downcast.
Is that all that matters, Pol-Chi? Dont you even like
my company?
Pol-Chi jumped up and went to her.
No! Youre right, Black Beauty. Ill come with you.
The deep roar had increased in volume until it drowned
all other sounds.
On the northern horizon they saw a grey, smoky
spume. Even as they watched, it grew.
Pol-Chi grinned.
The last gift.
Little Ki understood, too, quite suddenly. And laughed.
She could discern that it was a gigantic tidal wave
354

The Ser-Gal, Black Beauty, the Green Stone, the

Jewel of Peace.
The soldiers on the slopes were becoming aware of the
sound. Those higher up, on the plain, could see the wave. It
came on rapidly, seeming to rise up out of the earth.
Bathed in the bright yellow light of Ilgem, it was like a
huge wall of green stone, flecked with yellow and deep blue.
Down on the river bed, struggling around on the
corpses of their kinsmen and enemies, the fighting soldiers
became aware of the wave.
No one ran. There was nowhere to run to.
Instead, about eight million eight hundred and eighty
thousand soldiers turned and watched, silent and beyond fear,
the immense green mountain of sea water bear down on them
rapidly.
Pol-Chi raised his hands.
The Ser-Gal will bring the stillness.
The wave rolled along the river bed, along the valley
sides, and along the plain of the Grasslands on either side.
Remorselessly, the wave approached. Soldiers craned
their necks to see the peak of it, bubbling with bright yellow
foam.
Then it swept down on the soldiers.
None cried out.
Pol-Chi and Little Ki bid Ilgem farewell, held hands
and
Then Mataran focused his power.
Who are you?
Mataran. And you?
355

Selsara.
Where?
On the Torp of Sastra, bending on the Gyre of Arp.
Bending?
Turning back, but only on the Gyre.
But turning back, Selsara?
Enlightenment must be possible. It must have a
beginning.
Why do you still seek enlightenment?
No, no, Mataran. I serve to give enlightenment to
those attached to the Gyre.
Ah. You bring the light in the dark, Selsara. The light
that preserves the dark.
Yes, Mataran, I give love, The Black Light of
Presence. You have known its frisson.
Often, Black Goddess.
I am glad, Bull, that I gave you love. I couldnt know
then. Love cannot be known; only its empty place, always
filling, can be seen.
You gave much love, Selsara, I see that now. But why
do you serve now, Black Beauty?
Ah, Rampant Bull, how far you have gone. You forget
that others still need.
But those in need take, Little Pet. There is no need to
serve. Why, then, do you still serve?
Go, Bull, you no longer need me. I can see that.
But why do you stay?
I have no other place to go.
Ah, Black Beauty, why do you court ignorance still?
Did I not show you the truth?
Your truth is not my truth, Bull. I serve freely.
356

You serve because slaves are never alone.

We are all slaves, Pol-Chi. Why cant you see that?
Now, go from me.
GO!

Trin!
Pilto?
See, you were not long away, my friend.
Just three earth days, Pilto.
Did you witness the ending of the Age, then? Thats
always a spectacular event, in any Aeon.
Yes, Pilto. And to say farewell to my friends.
Are you sad?
Yes.
The ending of an Age is bitter, Trin. But as you said,
motion is free. Dont let attachments to what is gone rule
you.
You are right, of course, Pilto.
Come with me now, my friend. You have much to
learn.
More illusions, Pilto?
There are always illusions. There must be limits.
There are no limits in the end, Pilto.
Dont be bitter, Trin. Youll forget, believe me. We all
suffer separations in one Aeon or another.
Dont you know, man of the five hundred and twentyninth Aeon? There is no forgetting, because there is no
remembering.
Youre agitated, Trin. Be careful. You dont know
your power yet.
357

Dont I, Pilto?
Dont do it, Trin. Be patient. There is always time.
I must, friend Pilto. There is only one enlightenment.
So there is only one truth.
How can you know something like that, Trin?
Anyway, there are many here who would dispute that.
I dont know it, Pilto, I see it. But tell me, as a matter
of interest, what is a Kalo?
Ive never heard of such a thing, Trin.
Have you ever heard of the Gyre of Arp?
No. But why all these questions?
Tell me, then, Pilto, how do you know the Aeons
exist?
What curious questions. I have experienced them,
Trin. Thats why I say they exist.
But who told you of their existence? Pilto, who
prepared you to expect them?
No one, of course. I discovered them for myself,
Trin.
Why am I here, Pilto? Why am I not in a Kalo, or on a
Gyre?
I dont know what youre talking about, Trin.
Then tell me this, do I resemble your friend Sin?
You ask too many questions, Trin. You must be
patient and learn the knowledge of this Aeon. Then all your
questions will be answered.
Very well, Ill answer them myself. You called me
here, Pilto, in the name of friendship.
It is sincere friendship, Trin.
What do you fear, Pilto? Why do you refuse to use the
power you have discovered?
358

There is yet much to learn, Trin.

There is nothing to learn, Pilto. There is only one
thing to do.
No, Trin. Dont do it. There is always time.
Who makes time, Pilto?
Trin, Trin, why do you question everything? I give
you friendship. Is that not enough?
You give me illusions, Pilto. You look in a mirror and
seek the truth there.
Stop it, Trin. Why do you have to destroy everything?
So that you will see the truth.
But I wish to help you, Trin.
As I once helped you, Pilto?
Yes.
But I did not give you my truth, Pilto. I merely showed
you the way.
Trin, I see the truth in you.
So you still seek your god, Hepteidon?
Ah, Pol-Chi. You were always perceptive.
That is not difficult, Hepteidon. Now, at the parting, I
will tell you your truth...
Dont go now, Pol-Chi. This place is dark without
you.
...Ill tell you only once, Hepteidon YOU ARE YOUR OWN GOD.
Hepteidon, as I once said before, you chase your tail.
But now I see that you do not wish to catch it. You will turn
outwards, even now, and haunt your universe of Aeons, and
Ages, and Time, not seeking, as you wish to believe, but
hiding from the ghost you fear.
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Pol-Chi, why do you mock me? I seek only that which

I lack. It is my incompleteness which haunts me. Make me
whole, Pol-Chi.
You have spread your incompleteness, as you call it,
out around you. Call it back, Hepteidon. Make yourself
whole. Exercise the power in you.
I cannot do it, Pol-Chi. For then I would no longer be
free, I could not return.
There is no returning, Hepteidon. Why cant you see
even the simplest thing? There is no forgetting, because there
is no knowing, and there is no returning. You are everything
and you are everywhere.
I dont understand you, Pol-Chi. Once you gave me
freedom, now you deny its worth.
Hepteidon, distinguish between knowledge that seeks
its own obliteration and the knowledge that releases you from
its domination. I gave you freedom because you wanted it
then, because it allowed you to act. But that should have been
the end of freedom. What you have done instead, as you have
always done, is to let yourself be seduced by a new illusion.
Let your knowledge go. Its not worth possessing.
I cannot give up some-thing for no-thing, Pol-Chi. Its
impossible.
Then I can no longer help you, Hepteidon.
What will I do if you go?
There is always time, Hepteidon. Goodbye.
Pol-Chi, time for what?...
In the dark, the presence was being by
I am not alone, after all.
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Were you ever alone, poet?

In the end I saw only loneliness.
The laughter was everywhere, but it echoed nowhere.
How brave, poet, and tragic who was more cared for
than you, fainthearted poet?
Sora?
Ha! That is ended too, poet. There is no turning back
now. You said as much yourself.
Then who are you?
The presence being by was there
Lady, you sow the Deep!
Do you love me, poet?
With all my
His light was white: no mystery,
lighting nothing, hence dark
Go now, poet. There is one last thing.
Go? Where is there to go now, Lady? I...
There is only one end. You said this yourself, poet.
Enter it.
But, Lady, I have failed. There must be the Last Man.
Ha, poet! Every man is the Last Man.
Lady... you make me afraid of my failure.
Poet, with pity I ask you, did you not learn that no man
can conceive of his own death? Go now. Let go...I give you
this gift.

October 1983: 17/07/2002

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