Some of the monks doubted the orthodoxy of this
prayer technique, but the machine had been built and
was operated by Yama-Dharma, fallen, of the Celestial
City; and, it was told, he had ages ago built the mighty
thunder chariot of Lord Shiva: that engine that fled
across the heavens belching gouts of fire in its wake.
Despite his tall from favor, Yama was still deemed
mightiest of the artificers, though it was not doubted
that the Gods of (he City would have him to die the
real death were they to leam of the pray-machine. For
that matter, though, it was not doubted that they would
have him to die the real death without the excuse of the
pray-machine, also, were he to come into their custody.
How he would settle this matter with the Lords of
Karma was his own affair, though none doubted that
when the time came he would find a way. He was half
as old as the Celestial City itself, and not more than ten
of the gods remembered the founding of that abode. He
was known to be wiser even than the Lord Kubera in
the ways of the Universal Fire. But these were his lesser
Attributes. He was best known for another thing,
though few men spoke of it. Tall, but not overly so;
big, but not heavy; his movements, slow and fluent. He
wore red and spoke little.
He tended the pray-machine, and the giant metal
lotus he had set atop the monastery roof turned and
turned in its sockets.
A light rain was falling upon the building, the lotus
and the jungle at the foot of the mountains. For six
days he had offered many kilowatts of prayer, but (he
static kept him from being heard On High. Under his
breath, he called upon the more notable of the current
LORD OF LIGHT 11
fertility deities, invoking them in terms of their most
prominent Attributes.
A rumble of thunder answered his petition, and the
small ape who assisted him chuckled. "Your prayers
and your curses come to the same. Lord Yama," com-
mented the ape. "That is to say, nothing."
