Lord of Light (28 page)

All things considered, it was thorough as well as impressive, the death.

The wedding party lasted for seven days, and the Lord Mara spun dream after dream about the revelers. As if by a carpet of magic, he transported them through the lands of illusion, raising up palaces of colored smoke upon pillars of water and of fire, escalating the benches at which they sat down canyons of stardust, striving with coral and myrrh to bend their senses beyond themselves, bringing onto them all their Aspects, wherein he held them, rotating about the archetypes upon which they had based their powers, as Shiva danced in a graveyard the Dance of Destruction and the Dance of Time, celebrating the legend of his annihilation of the three flying cities of the Titans, and Krishna the Dark moved through the Wrestler's Dance in commemoration of his breaking of the black demon Bana, while Lakshmi danced the Dance of the Statue, and even Lord Vishnu was coerced into celebrating again the steps of the Dance of the Amphora, as Murugan, in his new body, laughed at the world clad in all her oceans, and did his dance of triumph upon those waters as upon a stage, the dance that he had danced after the slaying of Shura, who had taken refuge in the depths of the sea. When Mara gestured there was magic and color and music and wine. There was poetry and gaming. There was song and laughter. There was sport, in which mighty trials of strength and skill took place. In all, it required the stamina of a god to bear the entire seven days of pleasure.

These things considered, it was thorough as well as impressive, the wedding.

When it was over, the bride and the groom departed Heaven, to wander for a time about the world, to take in the pleasures of many places. They went, without servants or retainers, to wander free. They did not announce the order of their visitations, or the length of time they would spend—which was to be expected, their fellows being the celestial practical jokers that they were.

After their going, there was still some revelry. Lord Rudra, having consumed a magnificent quantity of soma, stood up upon a table and began to deliver a speech concerning the bride—a speech with which, had Yama been present, he would doubtless have taken issue. Such being the case. Lord Agni slapped Rudra across the mouth and was immediately challenged to a duel, in Aspect, across the length of Heaven.

Agni was flown to a mountaintop beyond Kaniburrha, and Lord Rudra took up a position near Worldsend. When the signal was given, Rudra sent a heat-tracking arrow whistling down the miles in the direction of his opponent. From fifteen miles away, however, Lord Agni spotted the arrow as it sped toward him and burnt it from out the air with a blast of the Universal Fire, which same power he then moved like a needle of light, to touch upon Rudra and burn him to ashes where he stood, also piercing through the dome at his back. Thus was the honor of the Lokapalas upheld, and a new Rudra was raised up from the ranks of the demigods to take the place of the old, who had fallen.

One rajah and two high priests died of poisoning, quite colorfully, and pyres were built to accommodate their bluish remains. Lord Krishna raised up his Aspect and played a music after which there is no music, and Guari the Fair relented and came to him once more, her heart softened, after he had finished. Sarasvati in her glory did the Dance of Delight, and then Lord Mara re-created the flight of Helba and the Buddha through the City. This last dreaming troubled many, however, and more names were recorded at that time. A demon then dared enter into their midst, with the body of a youth and the head of a tiger, attacking Lord Agni with a terrible fury. He was repelled by the combined powers of Ratri and of Vishnu, but he succeeded in escaping into incorporeality before Agni could bring his wand to bear upon him.

In the days that followed, there were changes within Heaven.

Tak of the Archives and the Bright Spear was judged by the Lords of Karma and was transmigrated into the body of an ape; and there was a warning set within his mind that wherever he presented himself for renewal he was to be given again into the body of an ape, to wander the world in this form until such a time as Heaven saw fit to extend its mercy and lift this doom from him. He was then sent forth into the jungles of the south, and there released to work off his karmic burden.

Lord Varuna the Just gathered his servants about him and departed the Celestial City, to make his home elsewhere in the world. Some of his detractors likened his departure to that of Nirriti the Black, god of darkness and corruption, who had left Heaven filled with ill will and the miasma of many a dark curse. The detractors of Varuna were not so numerous, however, for it was common knowledge that he deserved the title Just, and his condemnation could easily be construed to reflect upon the worth of its speaker, so few spoke of him beyond the days immediately following his going.

Much later, others among the gods were exiled into the world, in the days of the Heavenly Purges. Their going, however, had its beginnings in these times, when Accelerationism entered again into Heaven.

Brahma, mightiest of the four orders of gods and the eighteen hosts of paradise. Creator of all. Lord of High Heaven and everything beneath it, from whose navel springs forth a lotus and whose hands churn the oceans—he, who in three strides encompasses all the worlds, the drum of whose glory strikes terror into the hearts of his enemies, upon whose right hand is the wheel of the law, who tethers catastrophes, using a snake for rope — Brahma was to feel more and more uncomfortable and distraught in the days that came to pass as a result of the promise rashly given to the Mistress of Death. But then, it is quite likely that he would have proceeded in the same manner without her persuasions. The major effect of her actions, then, was probably that it gave him, for a brief time, someone to blame his later troubles upon. He was also known as Brahma the Infallible.

The dome of Heaven was repaired in several places at the end of the time of the revels.

The Museum of Heaven was thereafter provided with an armed guard who remained upon the premises at all times.

Several demon-hunting parties were planned, but never got beyond the planning stage.

A new Archivist was appointed, one who had no knowledge whatsoever concerning his parentage.

The phantom cats of Kaniburrha were granted symbolic representation in Temples throughout the land.

On the last night of the revels, a lone god entered the Pavilion of Silence at Worldsend and dwelled for a long while in the room called Memory. Then he laughed long and returned to the Celestial City; and his laughter was a thing of youth and beauty and strength and purity, and the winds that circle through Heaven caught it up and bore it far across the land, where all who heard it marveled at the strange and vibrant note of triumph that it contained.

These things considered, it was thorough as well as impressive, the time of Love and Death, of Hate and Life, and of Folly.

During the time that followed the death of Brahma, there came upon the Celestial City a period of turmoil. Several among the gods were even expelled from Heaven. It was a time when just about everyone feared being considered an Accelerationist; and, as fate would have it, at some point or other during this period, just about everyone was considered an Accelerationist. Though Great-Souled Sam was dead, his spirit was said to live on, mocking. Then, in the days of disaffection and intrigue that led up to the Great Battle, it was rumored that more than his spirit might have lived on. . . .

When the sun of suffering has set,

there comes this peace,

Lord of the quiet stars,

this peace of creation,

this place the mandala spins gray.

The fool saith in his mind

that his thoughts are only thoughts . . .

Saraha (98-99)

It was early morning. Near the pool of the purple lotus, in the Garden of Joys, at the foot of the statue of the blue goddess with the
veena
, Brahma was located.

The girl who found him first thought him to be resting, for his eyes were still open. After a moment, though, she realized that he was not breathing; and his face, so contorted, underwent no changes of expression.

She trembled as she awaited the ending of the universe. God being dead, she understood that this normally followed. But after a time, she decided that the internal cohesiveness of things might serve to hold the universe together for another hour or so; and such being the case, she thought it advisable to bring the matter of the imminent Yuga to the attention of someone better suited to cope with it.

She told Brahma's First Concubine, who went to see for herself, agreed that her Lord was indeed dead, addressed the statue of the blue goddess, who immediately began playing upon the
veena
, and then sent messages to Vishnu and Shiva to come at once to the Pavilion.

They did, bringing Lord Ganesha with them.

These viewed the remains, agreed as to their condition and confined both women to their quarters against execution.

Then they conferred.

"We need another creator in a hurry," said Vishnu. "The floor is open for nominations."

"I nominate Ganesha," said Shiva.

"I decline," said Ganesha.

"Why?"

"I do not like being on the scene. I would much rather remain off somewhere behind it."

"Then let us consider some alternative choices, quickly."

"Might it not be wise," asked Vishnu, "to ascertain the cause of this occurrence before proceeding?"

"No," said Ganesha. "The first order of business must be the selection of his successor. Even the postmortem must wait on that. Heaven must never be without a Brahma."

"What say you to one of the Lokapalas?"

"Perhaps."

"Yama?"

"No. He is too serious, too conscientious—a technician, not an administrator. Also, I think he's emotionally unstable."

"Kubera?"

"Too smart. I'm afraid of Kubera."

"Indra?"

"Too headstrong."

"Agni, then?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Perhaps Krishna?"

"Too frivolous, never sober."

"Who would you suggest?"

"What is our greatest problem at the present time?"

"I do not feel that we have any great problems at the present time," said Vishnu.

"Then it might be wise to have one just about now," said Ganesha. "I feel that our greatest problem is Accelerationism. Sam came back, stirring, making clear waters muddy."

"Yes," said Shiva.

"Accelerationism? Why kick a dead dog?"

"Ah, but it is not dead. Not down among men. And it will also serve to direct attention away from the succession within Trimurti and regain at least surface solidarity here in the City. Unless, of course, you'd rather undertake a campaign against Nirriti and his zombies?"

"No thanks."

"Not now."

"Mmm . . . yes, then Accelerationism is our greatest problem at the present time."

"All right. Accelerationism is our greatest problem."

"Who hates it more than anyone else?"

"Yourself?"

"Nonsense. Except me."

"Tell us, Ganesha."

"Kali."

"I doubt this."

"I do not. The twin beasts, Buddhism and Accelerationism, draw a single chariot. The Buddha scorned her. She is a woman. She will carry on the campaign."

"It will mean renouncing her womanhood."

"Speak to me not of trifles."

"All right—Kali."

"But what of Yama?"

"What of him? Leave Yama to me."

"I'd rather."

"I also."

"Very well. Go you then forth across the world, within the thunder chariot and upon the back of the great bird Garuda. Find Yama and Kali. Return them to Heaven. I will wait upon your return and consider the matter of Brahma's passing."

"So be it."

"Agreed."

"Good morning."

"Good merchant Vama, wait! I would have words with thee."

"Yea, Kabada. What wouldst thou?"

"It is difficult to find the words I would have with thee. But they do concern a certain state of affairs which hath aroused considerable sentiment on the parts of thy various adjacent neighbors."

"Oh? Speak on then."

"Concerning the atmosphere . . ."

"The atmosphere?"

"The winds and breezes, perhaps . . ."

"Winds? Breezes?"

"And the things they bear."

"Things? Such as. . . ?"

"Odors, good Vama."

"Odors? What odors?"

"Odors of—well, odors of—of fecal matter."

"Of . . . ? Oh! Yes. True. True enough. There may be a few such. I had forgotten, having grown used to them."

"Might I inquire as to their cause?"

"They are caused by the product of defecation, Kabada."

"Of this I am aware. I meant to make inquiry as to
why
they are present, rather than their source and nature."

"They are present because of the buckets in my back room, which are filled with such —items."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I have been saving the products of my family in this manner. I have been doing this for the past eight days."

"Against what use, worthy Vama?"

"Hast thou not heard of a thing, a wondrous thing, a thing into which these items are discharged—into water—and then a lever pulled, and then, with a mighty rushing sound, these things are borne away, far beneath the ground?"

"I have heard some talk of such .. ."

"Oh, 'tis true, 'tis true. There is such a thing. It has but recently been invented by one whom I should not name, and it involves great pipes and a seat without a bottom, or a top, really. It is the most wonderful discovery of the age—and I will have me one within a matter of moons!"

"Thou? Such a thing?"

"Yea. It shall be installed in the small room I have built onto the back of my home. I may even give a dinner that night and permit all my neighbors to take use of it."

"This is indeed wondrous—and thou generous."