War in Heaven

Bertram Jaspari, sitting in his chair next to Danlo, smoothed out the folds of his clumsily-dyed red kimono. He opened his little mouth to speak, but precisely at that moment, Danlo interrupted him before he could give voice to his first word.

‘The Holy Ivi of the Cybernetic Universal Church,’ Danlo said, ‘is Harrah Ivi en li Ede. This man tried to murder her and take her place.’

At this, Bertram Jaspari glared hatred at Danlo for a moment, but said nothing.

‘That may be true,’ Lord Pall said. ‘But he comes to us as the leader of the Iviomils whose fleet of ships has set forth among the stars. For the time, we’ll respect whatever title he chooses to bestow upon himself. So then, Holy Ivi, if you please.’

Bertram Jaspari adjusted the padded brown dobra covering the pointed bones of his head and again began to speak.

‘My Lords of the Order of Mystic Mathematicians and Other Seekers of the Ineffable Flame,’ he said with grave formality. ‘You must know that we Iviomils are the true Architects of the Infinite Intelligence of the Cybernetic Universal Church. You must know that the name of this Intelligence is Ede, the God, the Infinite – the Master Architect of the Universe.’

At the saying of this name, the Ede hologram glowing above Danlo’s devotionary computer flashed Danlo a knowing look and actually winked at him. Danlo had set the computer on the arm of his chair in plain sight of Bertram Jaspari, who had seen millions of such computers on Tannahill. But he had never seen a hologram of Nikolos Daru Ede programmed to act in such an intimate – and irreligious – manner. For the moment he seemed affronted and deeply suspicious. And then he returned to his speech.

‘In our holy Algorithm it is written that, “No god is there but God; God is one, and there can be only one God.” You must know that it is the gravest of errors for any man or woman to try to become a god in emulation of Nikolos Daru Ede. To become an accursed hakra and challenge the divinity of God, Himself – could there be a worse negative program than this? However, it is an error all too easy to fall into, which is why our Church has taught compassion for any and all who might become hakras. Is it not written that, “It is a thousand times easier to stop a thousand men from becoming hakras than to stop one hakra from poisoning the minds of a million men”? This is why we of the Church have come to the Civilized Worlds, to help you through this difficult time when many are tempted to write their own programs and become hakras.’

Bertram Jaspari delivered these devious words smoothly, devoutly, and with great energy. Having learned the Language of the Civilized Worlds only on his journey from Tannahill, he spoke with a heavy accent, but he had no trouble communicating his meaning to the Lords of Neverness or to Danlo or Demothi Bede. To these two ambassadors he implied that the Iviomils would make natural allies with the Fellowship if the Order should fail to restrain the greater ambitions and hubris of Ringism. And, as slippery as a water snake, at the same time, he appealed to the Lords of Neverness, promising that the Iviomils could help the Ringists temper their doctrines to bring their new religion in line with Ede’s Program for the Universe. But beneath his seeming congeniality and reasonableness coiled the threat of naked power. At first he was loath to show this power for what it was. He didn’t wish to shock anyone into an unreasoning opposition. He spoke only in promises and platitudes, telling the assembled lords of his hope of returning the peoples of the Civilized Worlds to Ede. As he reminded Lord Pall and everyone else, Nikolos Daru Ede had been born on Alumit, and all peoples everywhere must return to the truth which He had first shown the Architects of Alumit – and all the other Civilized Worlds.

When he had finished speaking, the lords sat muttering and looking at each other, not quite wanting to believe this Holy Ivi’s immense effrontery. And then Danlo, in his clear, strong voice, said, ‘On Tannahill, during the war that the Iviomils inflicted upon their families and friends, the Iviomils often talked of returning people to Ede. This meant … murdering them.’

At this, Lord Pall flashed Hanuman a quick look and then sucked in a quick breath between his black teeth. He looked at Danlo and said, ‘If you please, will you tell us what you know about this war?’

And so Danlo told the Lords of Neverness about the War of Terror and his part in this latest schism of the Cybernetic Universal Church in which Architect had murdered Architect. He described his friendship with Harrah Ivi en li Ede; it was this remarkable woman, he said, who had found the courage to redefine the Program of Increase and the Program of Totality, the two doctrines which had led the Architects to destroy the stars of the Vild.

‘Bertram Jaspari never accepted Harrah’s New Program,’ Danlo said. ‘And so he began a facifah and brought this war to every part of Tannahill. He … destroyed the city of Montellivi. With a hydrogen bomb, he murdered ten million people.’

Just then a pain shot through Danlo’s head as if his eyes were still open to the light-flash of this bomb. Lord Pall watched as Danlo pressed his palm to his forehead, and told him, ‘Please go on.’

‘But Bertram Jaspari … couldn’t kill every Architect who fell against him by exploding bombs,’ Danlo said. ‘When he saw that the war was lost, he fled Tannahill. All the Iviomils fled. He assembled a fleet of ships and disappeared into the stars. But before the Iviomils left the Vild, they did one more thing. A … truly shaida thing. There was a star. Thirty-seven light years from Tannahill, the star that shone upon the planet of the Narain people. The Narain once were Architects, too. Only, they had left Tannahill to find their own way towards Ede. Heretics, Bertram Jaspari called them. And so he brought his facifah to the Narain. He returned them to Ede. In one of his ships, the Iviomils carry a morrashar. A star-killer. Bertram Jaspari ordered his Iviomils to use this machine to destroy this star. To destroy a whole planet, a whole people. I … know he did. I saw the star explode. On my return through the Vild, I found the remnants of this star, the gases and radioactive dust. But there was nothing left of the Narain people.’

Almost the moment that Danlo had finished speaking, Burgos Harsha slapped his hand against the top of his table so that a loud crack rang out into the room. He glared at Lord Pall and asked, ‘Is what the pilot says true?’

Cetics – the Lord Cetic above all others – are supposed to be able to read falsity or truth from the tells that mark a man’s face. Lord Pall looked at Hanuman, who had been looking at Danlo. Hanuman softly tapped his knuckles together and held his eyes unblinking. It seemed that he was passing secret knowledge to Lord Pall and controlling him in a secret and subtle way. After a moment, Lord Pall made a sign to his interpreter, who said, ‘Danlo wi Soli Ringess has always been the most truthful of men – as far as he can see what is true and what is not. But we needn’t accept his word only. Look at this Holy Ivi, Bertram Jaspari! One doesn’t have to be a cetic to see what is written on his face.’

In truth, Bertram Jaspari, far from denying the murder of the Narain people, now fairly exulted in this terrible act. Danlo had shown him for who he really was; very well, then, he would pretend to friendship no longer. His bluish face fell through the shallow emotions of sanctity and ambition, perhaps touched with an underlying sadism. In truth, it was much to his purpose that his power be known. He looked at Lord Pall, smiled at Danlo, and then quoted from his holy Algorithm: ‘The Iviomils are those vastened in God who shall wield the light of the stars like swords.’

Most of the lords sitting at their tables that day were old but far from senile. No one supposed that Bertram Jaspari was speaking metaphorically, in a spiritual sense. They looked at Bertram Jaspari and no one doubted that this ugly man meant to rule the Civilized Worlds through the threat of destroying them.

‘Harrah en li Ede had fallen into negative programs,’ Bertram Jaspari explained. ‘The Algorithm tells us that anyone who has so fallen must be cleansed – by the fire of a facifah, if necessary. All peoples who deny Ede’s Program for the Universe must be cleansed.’

At this, Morasha the Bright, a white-haired exemplar from Veda Luz, pointed a bony finger at Bertram and asked the lords, ‘If this man holds the power to destroy stars, why didn’t he use this morrashar against Tannahill’s star before he fled the Vild?’

Bertram Jaspari smiled at this obvious question, then explained, ‘Despite what the pilot has told you, we Iviomils are not murderers. Most of our fellow Architects on Tannahill know Harrah’s redefinitions of the Programs of Increase and Totality to be in error. Would you have us cleanse an entire planet merely for the negative programs of an old woman and those who support the oppression of her architectcy?’

He hopes to return to Tannahill, Danlo suddenly knew. Someday, after regaining power, he hopes to return and rule Tannahill as the Church’s Holy Ivi.

Lord Pall watched Hanuman pursing his thin lips, and then, with a flick of his fingers, he said, ‘I’m afraid we must assume that Bertram Jaspari is willing and able to use this morrashar to destroy the Star of Neverness.’

For a moment, no one spoke and no one moved. Bertram Jaspari sat staring at the lords, and his face had fallen implacable with his purpose.

Burgos Harsha, whose face had been scarred when a hydrogen bomb had blown in the windows of the Timekeeper’s Tower, had a particular hatred of any man willing to explode hydrogen into light. He glared at Bertram, and in his growly old voice, he said, ‘It may be that this “Holy Ivi” possesses the means to destroy our star. I’ve often warned against the tolerance of the forbidden technologies. But how is he to use this technology, this morrashar of which Danlo wi Soli Ringess has spoken? Wouldn’t his fleet have to manoeuvre close to the Star of Neverness if he wishes to destroy her? And aren’t our pilots adept enough to detect the Iviomil ships the moment they fall out of the manifold and destroy them?’

This touched off a wild round of argument as the lords broke into groups of three or four and debated the strategies that the Iviomils might use to explode their star. Finally, Lord Pall waved his hand, blinked his little pink eyes, and said, ‘I see that Danlo wi Soli Ringess has more to tell us.’

‘I do,’ Danlo said. He squeezed the black diamond pilot’s ring that he wore around his little finger, and then said, ‘There is a ronin pilot who followed me into the Vild. He provided passage for Malaclypse Redring, who hoped that I would lead him to my father. Both these men followed me through the stars, all the way to Tannahill. I could not lose them.’

‘What was this pilot’s name?’ Lord Pall asked.

The lords had now fallen deathly silent, and the room was so quiet that Danlo could hear his heart beating like a drum.

‘It was Sivan wi Mawi Sarkissian in the Red Dragon,’ Danlo said. ‘I believe that he pilots the deep-ship containing the Iviomils’ morrashar.’

Again Bertram Jaspari smiled, affirming what Danlo knew to be true.

‘Sivan wi Mawi Sarkissian!’ Rodrigo Diaz said. Many of the lords sighed and groaned at this name, but most just continued to stare at Bertram Jaspari as if they wished their vows permitted them the indulgence of murder.

‘Before Sivan left the Order,’ Jonath Parsons said, ‘he was a pilot of the first rank. Perhaps the equal of Salmalin or even Mallory Ringess.’

‘But why would he serve a sect of star-killing fanatics?’

None of the lords had an answer to this question, not even Lord Pall who could read most men’s minds as easily as he might a map of the city’s streets. Hanuman’s face was silent as he closed his eyes and disappeared for a moment into a private, interior world illuminated by the clearface that covered his head. And then Malaclypse Redring, who flashed Danlo a quick, almost secret smile, said, ‘He serves me; he serves the Order of Warrior-Poets.’

‘Traitor!’ twenty lords shouted at once. And then fifty other voices: ‘Ronin! Wayless! Renegade!’

Malaclypse held up his red-ringed hands for the lords to regain their restraint and compose themselves. Then he told them, ‘You might do better to ask why my Order has allied itself with these Iviomils of the Cybernetic Universal Church.’

‘Well, why have you?’ Burgos Harsha asked.

‘That’s no mystery,’ Kolenya Mor said. ‘The warrior-poets have been trying to destroy our Order for seven thousand years.’

‘It … is more than that,’ Danlo said. He paused to see Hanuman eyeing him coolly, then told the lords a secret that he had shared with no one except Bardo for more than ten years. ‘I learned this from the warrior-poet, Marek, in the library – it was the day that he tried to kill Hanuman li Tosh.’

Now Hanuman’s eyes were as hard and cold as frozen pools of water. He must have well remembered how Marek had threatened to push his killing knife slowly up the optic nerve of his eye. Certainly he remembered the pain of his torture at Marek’s hand for Marek had touched him with a dart tipped with ekkana: a drug that continued to poison him and would cause the nerves of his body to burn like fire for the rest of his life.

‘Please go on,’ Lord Pall said to Danlo.

Danlo bowed his head to Hanuman in honour of the terrible pain that he would have to bear moment by moment for ever – or until the cold hand of death fell upon his face and relieved him of his agony. Then he said, ‘The warrior-poets have a new rule. They would slay all potential gods. This is why Malaclypse followed me across the Vild. He hoped that I would lead him to my father. He … hopes to slay him.’

‘But your father is Mallory Ringess!’ Kolenya Mor said. ‘He’s a god!’

‘How can a warrior-poet slay a god?’ Nitara Tan wanted to know.

‘Perhaps Mallory Ringess will return to Neverness and slay him,’ Kolenya Mor said. And then, quite pleased for the chance to affirm her faith in the First Pillar of Ringism, she went on, ‘One day, he will return to help show us the way towards godhood. We will become gods one day. If the Order of Warrior-Poets’ new rule is to slay all potential gods, they should be prepared to slay half the peoples of the Civilized Worlds.’

The warrior-poets, who believe that the universe eternally recurs in endless cycles of death and rebirth, eagerly await the supreme Moment of the Possible when all things return to their divine source. If indeed the universe had evolved close to this Moment of fire and light, then, Danlo thought, the warrior-poets might well be prepared to see everyone and everything slain in order to fulfil this terrible fate.

The light pouring down through the dome found the colours of Malaclypse’s robe and enveloped him in a rainbow of fire. He smiled and said, ‘We don’t seek to slay everyone who professes a wish to move godward – only those such as Mallory Ringess who may already have done so.’

But why slay gods at all? As Danlo lost himself in Malaclypse’s marvellous violet eyes, he wondered about the deeper purposes of the warrior-poets. Once, they had sought mental powers very like personal godhood, but now it was almost as if the gods themselves restrained them from this dream. If there truly is a moment for the universe when all things become possible, if they accept the limitations of their humanity and seek this moment, why not let the gods hasten its coming?