War in Heaven

‘When the Sonderval told me that you’d spent much time with the Entity, I wondered if you might have learned anything about your father.’

‘She said only that I would find him at my journey’s end.’

‘In Neverness?’

‘I … do not know. The Entity always speaks so mysteriously.’

‘I still believe your father will return to Neverness. It’s where his fate lies, not out in the stars with some capricious goddess.’

For a moment, Danlo looked west at the strange, shimmering stars just over the rim of the sea, but he said nothing.

‘And when he does return, by God, there will be an accounting! He’ll open his eyes to every barbaric thing that Hanuman li Tosh has done in his name, and fall across the city in wrath. He’ll chastise him, perhaps even slay him – your father, despite his compassion, was always such a murderous man.’

‘But, Bardo, don’t you believe he is now a god?’

‘Do you think the gods don’t slay human beings as easily as flies – or even each other?’

Danlo thought of the Silicon God’s destruction of Ede the God, and he said, ‘I know that they do.’

For a while, beneath their tree’s silvery leaves rustling in the wind, they gazed out at the stars and talked about the galaxy’s gods – and fate and war and other cosmic things. Then Danlo turned to look at Bardo, and asked him about something closer to his heart.

‘Have you seen her, Bardo?’

‘Tamara?’

Danlo held his head still in total silence, but his eyes, gleaming in the half-light like liquid jewels, spoke for him.

‘Well, no, I haven’t seen her,’ Bardo said. ‘You know I’d heard that she had left the city – I never heard that she returned.’

‘But where did she go?’

‘I don’t know. Perhaps it’s only a rumour.’

‘Did Hanuman ever speak of what he did to her? Did he ever say that there might be a way to restore her?’

Bardo sighed and laid a heavy hand on Danlo’s shoulder. ‘Ah, Little Fellow – he never said anything, too bad. You still hate him, don’t you?’

Lightning flashed in Danlo’s eyes, then, and he said, ‘He raped her mind! He destroyed her memories, Bardo! All her memories of us together, everything blessed.’

‘Little Fellow, Little Fellow.’

Danlo chose that moment to take out his flute and press the hard ivory mouthpiece against his forehead. He drew in a deep breath, then said, ‘But I … must not hate. I try so hard not to hate.’

‘And I love you for such nobility,’ Bardo said, ‘but as for myself, I try to let all my hatred for that worm of a man fill my belly like firewine. It will make it easier to destroy him when the time comes.’

Slowly Danlo shook his head. ‘You know that I would not wish to see any harm come to him.’

‘Well, perhaps you should. Perhaps it would be best if you’d forswear your vow and find a way to move close to him. And then …’

‘Yes?’

‘And then kill him, by God! Slip a knife into his treacherous heart or squeeze the breath from his lying throat!’

At the mere invocation of such terrible images, Danlo’s own breath caught in his chest. He gripped his flute as tightly as a drowning man being offered a stick to pull him out of icy, black waters. And then, as he realized the impossibility of what Bardo had suggested, he slowly relaxed and smiled in deep amusement. ‘You know that I could never harm him,’ he said.

‘Well, I do know that, too bad. And that is why, short of war, there’s little hope of stopping him.’

‘But there is still our mission, yes? Our hope for peace.’

Bardo laughed softly, then said, ‘I remember that your Fravashi teacher once gave you the title of Peacewise. But it takes two to make a peace, you know.’

‘But all people long for peace.’

‘There speaks your hope,’ Bardo said. ‘There speaks your will to make reality conform to the dreams of your lovely heart.’

‘But Hanuman has a heart, too. He is still just a man, yes?’

‘I’m not so sure. Sometimes I think he’s a demon from hell.’

As Danlo thought of Hanuman’s hellish ice-blue eyes, he smiled gravely in remembrance. And then he said, ‘In a strange way, I think he was the most compassionate man I have ever met.’

‘Hanuman li Tosh?’

‘You did not know him as I did, Bardo. Once a time, as a boy, and before, he was so innocent. Truly … he was born with such a gentle soul.’

‘What changed him, then?’

‘The world changed him,’ Danlo said. ‘His religion, the way his father would read negative programs in his littlest misdoings and force a cleansing heaume on his head to rape his mind – that changed him, too. And he changed himself. I have never met anyone with such a terrible will to change himself.’

‘Well, you never knew your father, Little Fellow.’

Danlo stared down at the dark holes along the shaft of his flute, and waited for Bardo to say more.

‘But your father finally found his compassion, while Hanuman has lost his. And where your father became a light for the whole damn universe, Hanuman has embraced the darkness – like a slel necker sucking at a corpse.’

‘I would still like to believe that, somehow, there is infinite hope for everyone.’

Infinite possibilities, Danlo remembered as he closed his eyes. Inside everyone, everything, this infinite light.

‘Well,’ Bardo said, ‘Hanuman’s hope for himself is certainly infinite.’

‘Because he speaks of becoming a god?’

The second pillar of Ringism was that each man and woman could become a god by following the way of Mallory Ringess, and in this ambition, Hanuman was no different from a million others.

‘But he has done much more than speak of this,’ Bardo said. ‘Why do you think he has torn apart most of a moon to build that goddamned computer that floats in space like a death mask?’

‘But you yourself once taught that the way to godhood was only in remembrance of the Elder Eddas.’