Black Easter (7 page)

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Authors: James Blish

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Ware gave him a half nod. Thank you; go on.’

‘I’ve no further to go but the fundamental question. You don’t really need money, you don’t seem to collect art or women, you’re not out to be President of the World or the power behind some such person – and yet by your lights you have damned yourself eternally to make yourself expert in this highly peculiar subject. What on earth
for
?’

‘I could easily duck that question.’ Ware said slowly.’ I could point out, for instance, that under certain circumstances I could prolong my life to seven hundred years, and so might not be worrying just yet about what might happen to me in the next world. Or I could point out what you already know from the texts, that every magician hopes to cheat Hell in the end – and as several did who are now nicely ensconced on the calendar as authentic saints.

‘But the real fact of the matter, Dr Hess, is that I think what I’m after is worth the risk, and what I’m after is something you understand perfectly, and for which you’ve sold your own soul, or if you prefer an only slightly less loaded word, your integrity, to Dr Baines –
knowledge
.’

‘Uhmn. Surely there must be easier ways –’

‘You don’t believe that. You think there may be more reliable ways, such as scientific method, but you don’t think they’re any easier. I myself have the utmost respect for scientific method, but I know that it doesn’t offer me the kind of knowledge I’m looking for – which is also knowledge about the makeup of the universe and how it is run, but not a kind that any exact science can provide me with, because the sciences don’t accept that some of the forces of nature are Persons. Well, but some of them are. And without dealing with those Persons I shall never know any of the things I want to know.

This kind of research is just as expensive as underwriting a gigantic particle accelerator, Dr Hess, and obviously I’ll never get any government to underwrite it. But people like Dr Baines can, if I can find enough of them – just as they underwrite you.

‘Eventually, I may have to pay for what I’ve learned with a jewel no amount of money could buy. Unlike MacBeth, I know one
can’t
“skip the life to come.” But even if it does come to that, Dr Hess – and probably it will – I’ll take my knowledge with me, and it will have been worth the price.

‘In other words – just as you suspected – I’m a fanatic.’

To his own dawning astonishment, Hess said slowly:

‘Yes. Yes, of course … so am I.’

Father Domenico lay in his strange bed on his back, staring sleeplessly up at the pink stucco ceiling. Tonight was the night he had come for. Ware’s three days of fasting, lustration and prayer – surely a blasphemous burlesque of such observances as the Church knew them, in intent if not in content – were over, and he had pronounced himself ready to act.

Apparently he still intended to allow Baines and his two repulsive henchmen to observe the conjuration, but if he had ever had any intention of including Father Domenico in the ceremony, he had thought better of it. That was frustrating, as well as a great relief; but in his place, Father Domenico would
have done the same thing.

Yet even here, excluded from the scene and surrounded by every protection he had been able to muster, Father Domenico could feel the preliminary oppression, like the dead weather before an earthquake. There was always a similar hush and tension in the air just before the invocation of one of the Celestial Powers, but with none of these overtones of maleficence and disaster … or would someone ignorant of what was actually proposed be able to tell the difference? That was a disquieting thought in itself, but one that could practically be left to Bishop Berkeley and the Logical Positivists. Father Domenico knew what was going on – a ritual of supernatural murder; and could not help but tremble in his bed.

Somewhere in the palazzo there was the silvery sound of a small clock striking, distant and sweet. The time was now 10:00 p.m., the fourth hour of Saturn on the day of Saturn, the hour most suitable – as even the blameless and pitiable Peter de Abano had written – for experiments of hatred, enmity and discord; and Father Domenico, under the Covenant, was forbidden even to pray for failure.

The clock, that two-handed engine that stands behind the Door, struck, and struck no more, and Ware drew the brocaded hangings aside.

Up to now, Baines despite himself, had felt a little foolish in the girdled white-linen garment Ware had insisted upon, but he cheered up upon seeing Jack Ginsberg and Dr Hess in the same vestments. As for Ware, he was either comical or terrible, depending upon what view one took of the proceedings, in his white Levite surcoat with red-silk embroidery on the breast, his white leather shoes lettered in cinnabar, and his paper crown bearing the word EL. He was girdled with a belt about three inches wide, which seemed to have been made from the skin of some hairy, lion-coloured animal. Into the girdle was thrust a red-wrapped, sceptre-like object, which Baines identified tentatively from a prior description of Hess’s as the wand of power.

‘And now we must vest ourselves,’ Ware said, almost in a whisper. ‘Dr Baines, on the desk you will find three garments. Take one, and then another, and another. Give two to Dr Hess
and Mr Ginsberg. Don the other yourself.’

Baines picked up the huddle of cloth. It turned out to be an alb.

‘Take up your vestments and lift them in your hands above your heads. At the amen, let them fall. Now:

‘A
NTON
, A
MATOR
, E
MITES
. T
HEODONIEL
, P
ONCOR
, P
AGOR
. A
NITOR
,
by the virtue of these most holy angelic names do I clothe myself, Lord of Lords, in my Vestments of Power, that so I may fulfil, even unto their term, all things which I desire to effect through Thee
, I
DEODANIACH
, P
AMOR
. P
LAIOR
.
Lord of Lords, Whose kingdom and rule endureth forever and ever. Amen.’

The garments rustled down, and Ware opened the door.

The room beyond was only vaguely lit with yellow candlelight, and at first bore almost no resemblance to the chamber Dr Hess had described to Baines. As his eyes accommodated, however, Baines was gradually able to see that it was the same room, its margins now indistinct and its furniture slightly differently ordered: only the lectern and the candlesticks – there were now four of them, not two – were moved out from the walls and hence more or less visible.

But it was still confusing, a welter of flickering shadows and slightly sickening perfume, most unlike the blueprint of the room that Baines had erected in his mind from Hess’s drawing. The thing that dominated the real room itself was also a drawing, not any piece of furniture or detail of architecture: a vast double circle on the floor in what appeared to be whitewash. Between the concentric circles were written innumerable words, or what might have been words, in characters which might have been Hebrew, Greek, Etruscan or even Elvish for all Baines could tell. Some few were in Roman lettering, but they, too, were names he could not recognize; and around the outside of the outer circle were written astrological signs in their zodiacal order, but with Saturn to the north.

At the very centre of this figure was a ruled square about two feet on a side, from each corner of which proceeded chalked, conventionalized crosses, which did not look in the least Christian. Proceeding from each of these, but not connected to
them, were four six-pointed stars, verging on the innermost circle. The stars at the east, west and south each had a Tau scrawled at their centres; presumably the Saturnmost did too, but if so it could not be seen, for the heart of that emplacement was hidden by what seemed to be a fat puddle of stippled fur.

Outside the circles, at the other compass points, were drawn four pentagrams, in the chords of which were written T
E TRA GRAM MA TON
, and at the centres of which stood the candles. Farthest away from all this – about two feet outside the circle and three feet over it to the north – was a circle enclosed by a triangle, also much lettered inside and out; Baines could just see that the characters in the angles of the triangle read
NI CH EL
.

‘Tanists,’ Ware whispered, pointing into the circle, ‘take your places.’

He went towards the long table Hess had described and vanished in the gloom. As instructed, Baines walked into the circle and stood in the western star; Hess followed, taking the eastern; and Ginsberg, very slowly, crept into the southern. To the north, the puddle of fur revolved once widdershins and resettled itself with an unsettling sigh, making Jack Ginsberg jump. Baines inspected it belatedly. Probably it was only a cat, as was supposed to be traditional, but in this light it looked more like a badger. Whatever it was, it was obscenely fat.

Ware reappeared, carrying a sword. He entered the circle, closed it with the point of the sword, and proceeded to the central square, where he laid the sword across the toes of his white shoes; then he drew the wand from his belt and unwrapped it, laying the red-silk cloth across his shoulders.

‘From now on,’ he said, in a normal, even voice, ‘no one is to move.’

From somewhere inside his vestments he produced a small crucible, which he set at his feet before the recumbent sword. Small blue flames promptly began to rise from the bowl, and Ware cast incense into it. He said:

‘Holocaust. Holocaust. Holocaust.’

The flames in the brazier rose slightly.

‘We are to call upon M
ARCHOSIAS
, a great marquis of the Descending Hierarchy,’ Ware said in the same conversational
voice. ‘Before he fell, he belonged to the Order of Dominations among the angels, and thinks to return to the Seven Thrones after twelve hundred years. His virtue is that he gives true answers. Stand fast, all.’

With a sudden motion, Ware thrust the end of his rod into the surging flames of the brazier. At once the air of the hall rang with a long, frightful chain of woeful howls. Above the bestial clamour. Ware shouted:

‘I adjure thee, great M
ARCHOSIAS
, as the agent of Emperor L
UCIFER
, and of his beloved son L
UCIFUGE
R
OFOCALE
, by the power of the pact I have with thee, and by the Names A
DONAY
, E
LOIM
, J
EHOVAM
, T
AGLA
, M
ATHON
, A
LMOUZIN
, A
RIOS
, P
ITHONA
, M
AGOTS
, S
YLPHAE
, T
ABOTS
, S
ALAMANDRAE
, G
NOMUS
, T
ERRAE
, C
OELIS
, G
ODENS
, A
QUA
, and by the whole hierarchy of superior intelligences who shall constrain thee against thy will,
venite, venite, submiritillor
M
ARCHOSIAS
!’

The noise rose higher, and a green steam began to come off the brazier. It smelt like someone was burning hart’s horn and fish gall. But there was no other answer. His face white and cruel, Ware rasped over the tumult:

‘I adjure thee, M
ARCHOSIAS
, by the pact, and by the names, appear instanter!’ He plunged the rod a second time into the flames. The room screamed; but still there was no apparition.

‘Now I adjure thee, L
UCIFUGE
R
OFOCALE
, whom I command, as the agent of the Lord and Emperor of Lords, send me thy messenger M
ARCHOSIAS
, forcing him to forsake his hiding place, wheresoever it may be, and warning thee –’

The rod went back into the fire. Instantly, the palazzo rocked as though the earth had moved under it.

‘Stand fast!’ Ware said hoarsely.

Something Else said:

H
USH
, I
AM HERE
. W
HAT DOST THOU SEEK OF ME
? W
HY DOST THOU DISTURB MY REPOSE
? L
ET MY FATHER REST
,
AND HOLD THY ROD
.

Never had Baines heard a voice like that before. It seemed to speak in syllables of burning ashes.

‘Hadst thou appeared when first I invoked thee, I had by no means smitten thee, nor called thy father,’ Ware said. ‘Remember, if the request I make of thee be refused, I shall
thrust again my rod into the fire.’

T
HINK AND SEE
!

The palazzo shuddered again. Then, from the middle of the triangle to the northwest, a slow cloud of yellow fumes went up towards the ceiling, making them all cough, even Ware. As it spread and thinned, Baines could see a shape forming under it; but he found it impossible to believe. It was – it was something like a she-wolf, grey and immense, with green and glistening eyes. A wave of coldness was coming from it.

The cloud continued to dissipate. The she-wolf glared at them, slowly spreading her griffin’s wings. Her serpent’s tail lashed gently, scalily.

In the northern pentacle, the great Abyssinian cat sat up and stared back. The demon-wolf showed her teeth and emitted a disgusting belch of fire. The cat settled its front feet indifferently.

‘Stand, by the Seal,’ Ware said. ‘Stand and transform, else I shall plunge thee back whence thou camest. I command thee.’

The she-wolf vanished, leaving behind in the triangle a plump, modest-looking young man wearing a decorous necktie, a dildo almost as long and nothing else. ‘Sorry, boss’ he said in a sugary voice ‘I had to try, you know. What’s up?’

‘Don’t try to wheedle me, vision of stupidity,’ Ware said harshly. Transform, I demand of thee, thou’rt wasting thy father’s time, and mine! Transform!’

The young man stuck out his tongue which was copper-green. A moment later, the triangle was occupied by a black bearded man apparently twice his age, wearing a forest-green robe rimmed in ermine and a glittering crown. It hurt Baines’s eyes to look at it. An odour of sandalwood began slowly to diffuse through the room.

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