"The Space Barbarians" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Mack)

Chapter Three

The newcomers could not have staged a better entrance had it been rehearsed. The craft, which later they named a skimmer, settled to the ground gently, between the amphitheater stand and the rows of bedels and sagamores.

A sigh went through the great assembly, for all there knew that such a craft could not possibly float through the air, as they witnessed. Obviously, some great power, un-known on all Caledonia, was involved, and these from Beyond controlled powers unbeknown to the holiest bedel or Keeper of the Faith.

Many eyes turned to the ranks of bedels, one for each clann represented at the Dail, But the faces of the bedels were blank; indeed, some went beyond blankness. Their expressions were of despair, for what can a speaker of a faith do when confronted by an obviously greater faith?

The craft came to a halt, and an entry port appeared where there had seemed but a wall of metal. An orange robed figure issued forth, then turned to assist another behind him.

John of the Hawks, standing side by side with Robert, once the most fearsome raider of the Clann Fielding, remained impassionate. He had not expected the others to arrive quite so soon, but he had known that the confrontation was inevitable.

There were four of them in all—the one named Mark, Guru of the Shrine of Krishna; two younger men, similarly robed and shod but obviously of lesser rank in the hierarchy of this new faith; and, last from the craft that flew through the air, the skipper of the spaceship, Harmon.

Bertram of the Fowlers, senior bedel, came now and stood beside John. Perhaps his faith was stronger than that of the rank and file of his colleagues, but in his face, too, was something John of the Hawks was dismayed to see.

The guru, as before, carried an aura of calm dignity that dominated all. He approached now and nodded gently to John of the Hawks.

“My son,” he said, “have you considered as yet and decided to take the soma and enter into the Shrine of Kalkin?”

John looked at him levelly. “Nor will I ever, Guru of the Marks.” He gestured to the seated sachems and caciques. “We are assembled now in the Dail of the Loch Confederation and are even at present discussing how to meet the coming of you from Beyond. I point out that receiving you in peace means eventual ending of all our institutions, even that of our faith.”

The older man spoke gently, and he spoke to all, rather than just to John. “I come from afar in the sky to bring, not to take. All, all of you, will find your eternal peace through following the Lord Krishna to the Shrine of Kalkin.”

Bertram of the Fowlers had regained some of his poise.

Now he said, and his own dignity was considerable, “The Holy Book says,

The guru looked at him quizzically. “What holy book is that, my brother?”

The bedel was surprised. “But there are only four. Holy Books, as surely all men know. Though still there are some who dispute the traditions that before the great fire, on the coming of the Holy Inverness Ark, there were many, many Holy Books which were lost, either in the fire or during the misty years. And some would make ceremony of mourning the loss of the Holy Books no longer possessed by humankind, but some of us find wisdom in:

The guru was not beyond the capability for fine amusement. He smiled now and said, “My brother, there have been many holy books, and all have their element of good, perhaps. However, now, with the final avatara of Lord Vishnu, all faiths must unite into one, and all holy books are of little more than historic interest. Perhaps someday we shall have occasion to discuss some of them, to fill an idle hour. But as I say, they are of little more than passing interest, my brother.”

“I am not your brother, we are not even kyn,” Bertram of the Fowlers said in indignation. “And one must not speak thus about the Holy Books; it is against the bann! And though my eyes, in retreat as my years advance, no longer allow me to contemplate them, so much have I read in the past that they are all but memorized.”

The guru nodded and looked more closely at the other. “Cataracts,” he murmured. Then, “My, brother, as soon as we are established, you must be first to allow Lord Krishna to intervene in your behalf. You shall read again—tomorrow, at the latest.”

The elderly bedel stared at him, his aged mouth working. “You mean… ?”

“Yes,” the guru said simply. He looked about. “As soon as we can be settled in quarters, I shall invoke the Lord Krishna in your behalf immediately.”

Thomas of the Polks was coming forward. He said. “We have not yet voted upon how to receive you, strangers from Beyond. However, you are travelers and hence welcome to a minimum of three days of hospitality, even though the last time your clannsmen visited Aberdeen our hospitality was abused.”

John of the Hawks said to Harmon, who had been standing to one side, his face characteristically sardonic, “When you were here before, Mister of the Harmons, my quarters, in the longhouse of the Hawks, were relinquished to you. Though you are now my bloodfeud foe, it is as the sachem has said—you are travelers and hence eligible for three days of hospitality. If you wish, my quarters are again available.”

Harmon made an amused half bow. He turned, to the Guru. “As good a place as any. I’ll have the men set up your portable clinic, ah, that is, your shrine.”

The guru frowned at him, albeit gently. “A pagoda, my son, does not depend upon surroundings. It is where the heart of the follower of Lord Krishna is.”

“Of course,” Harmon said dryly. He returned to the skimmer.

John turned and left the amphitheater, heading back for the rows of sagamores, the subchiefs.

Don was among them. John jerked his head toward the edge of the assembly, and Don, his eyebrows high in surprise, followed.

“When they were out of earshot of everyone else, Don demanded, “Why in the name of the Holy did you offer that slink your quarters?”

“You’ll see,” John growled. “Long years ago, through accident, I heard much of the plans of these men from Beyond. This time, it will be no accident. We must hurry, because almost surely, when they first enter the quarters, thinking themselves alone, they will discuss their purpose here.”

Even as he strode along beside his blood comrade, Don was both mystified and surprised. He said hesitantly, “Do you mean you plan to spy upon the travelers who have been granted the hospitality of Aberdeen?”

John snorted. “True enough. I would be stripped of my kilts, were the Keepers of the Faith to know. I did it before, long years ago, but then I was but a lad and not a full clannsman, and besides, as I say, it was an accident. However, this situation is more serious than most seem to know, and I sacrifice my honor for the greater need. Not only is Aberdeen at stake, but the whole Loch Confederation. Indeed, all Caledonia.”

Don maintained an unhappy silence.

They reached the Hawk longhouse, entered, and made their way by ladder to the flat roof. As they proceeded, John explained, “I always believed that those from Beyond would return. The explorer ship came first, and they were insufficient in number to achieve what they wished. I prepared for their return—if and when chance brought them again to Aberdeen and the longhouse of the Hawks.”

They had reached the point immediately above his chambers. John knelt, and his hands moved deftly.

“Here,” he said, stretching out on his belly.

Don of the Clarks, still frowning, joined him. There were small holes leading down through the roof, and through these holes the living room of the small apartment below was observable.

They had a wait of perhaps fifteen minutes; then two of the orange clad men from Beyond entered, carrying various equipment. Mark, the guru, entered next, followed by Harmon.

Harmon was saying in amusement, “I see you follow the old adage “Don’t talk with angels, talk with God.’ ”

The guru said, “I don’t believe I understand, my son.”

Harmon chuckled. “Picking out their senior religious figure for your first miracle. Curing that old boy’s eyesight will have them flocking in. It will start with the really bad cases, paralytics and so forth, but before the week is out you’ll have half the town making your soma.”

The guru said, “Down through all history, my son, the spreaders of faith have performed miracles in order to win their followers. Joshua of Nazereth, Mohammed, even Vishnu in his ninth avatara as the Buddha.”

Harmon said, “But the followers of the Lord Krishna, such as yourself, Guru Mark, have a great advantage in miracles. Modern medicine certainly puts you in a position to perform miracles far and beyond those of any of your predecessors.”

John could see the guru’s face, and it expressed surprise. “But my son, it all leads to their taking their soma and becoming one with Lord Krishna.”

“And the ends justify the means, eh?” Harmon laughed again. “I detect a slight Machiavellian quality.”

Don whispered to his companion, “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” John said. “Listen.”

Mark was saying, trouble in his voice. “My son, though you wear the robe of the acolyte, I sometimes wonder at your faith. For instance, when we first embarked upon this missionary expedition to a new world which had as yet not heard the message of the Lord Krishna, I did not know you had other interests than bringing the Shrine of Kalkin to Caledonia.”

Harmon said, “Guru, somebody said once, I forget who, to give unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s and unto God that which is God’s. There are many facets to human existence, Only one of which is religion.”

“By far the most important!”

“Of course.” Harmon didn’t bother to keep cynical amusement from his voice. “However, there are other things. The syndicate which I represent is based on one of the new planets where—shall we call it free enterprise?—is still in full force. We are interested in bringing, ah, civilization to Caledonia, so that its minerals can be exploited. So long us this fantastic barbarism continues, we haven’t got a chance. Very good. You have no complaints. It was through us that you were able to mount your missionary expedition. It is through us that you are able to spread your message here. Lord knows—that is, Lord Krishna, of course—you don’t reach many ears elsewhere.”

“There is deep cynicism throughout the League, my son. It is a great sadness that so few will take the soma and follow in the path of Lord Krishna.”

“Well, at least you’re having your big chance on Caledonia.”

One of the other orange robed ones spoke then, his words indistinguishable, and both Harmon and the guru moved out of range of the peep holes being utilized by John of the Hawks and Don of the Clarks.

The two clannsmen looked at each other.

Mystified, Don said, “But what is this soma?”

John shook his head. “Whatever it is, I will go down to black death before taking it. These are shameless, clannless men of evil.

Scowling Don said slowly, “No, not the old one. He is a holy man. Whether this new religion of his is a true religion, I will not say, but he is a holy man.”

John of the Hawks snorted. “He serves evil,” he growled.