A Broken Paradise (The Windows of Heaven Book 3) (20 page)

he market bazaar surged with Sa-utar’s shoppers such that two men standing between vendor tents attracted no attention at all. One man held a small box out to the other.
Enkasi appeared eager to get on with the work.

Inguska instructed him,
“Deliver this box into the very hands of Yabulla the Merchant. The elixir I have given you is the antidote for the poisoned resin that varnishes the wood of the chest. The poison will dissolve in less than two hours, so he must touch the box’s wood within that time. Give it to no other. Do you understand?”

Enkasi nodded. “Yes, Lord. Who is this evildoer?”

“He has turned from the holy path, and must be made an example.”

“I will not fail the Lord of Heaven
or his queens.”

“You will find Yabulla’s shop on the next street over, on this block. He is there right now—I checked on the way to meeting you.”

“When will I be called upon for the greater service?”

Inguska said,
“It may be a while, but no more than a few years. I must return to Akh’Uzan to meet my wives’ caravan. They will carry some materials you will need for that phase of the war.”

“I will meet you again in a month at the appointed place then?”

“Yes. Be patient. Glory awaits you.”

Enkasi took the small wooden chest. “Within the hour, this apostate shall be crushed in the dark
Abyssu of Under-world.”

Inguska watched his protégé disappear into the market throng.
He is a good and faithful student. What a shame I cannot keep him with me too much longer.

We have a kind of faith in the nature of people that we do not have in… nature itself—and I use the word “faith” in its full religious force. We really do believe that all human beings have a natural
telos
toward becoming flowers, not weeds or poison ivy, and that aggregates of human beings have a natural predisposition to arrange themselves into gardens, not jungles or garbage heaps. This sublime and noble faith we may call the religion of liberal humanism. It is the dominant spiritual and intellectual orthodoxy in America today. Indeed, despite all our chatter about the separation of church and state, one can even say it is the official religion of American society today, as against which all other religions can be criticized as divisive and parochial.

—
Irving Kristol

“Thoughts on Reading About a Number of Summer-C
amp Cabins Covered with Garbage”

The New York Times Magazine
, Nov. 17, 1974

9

Colossus

T
arbet had been happy to host the first annual Summit of Mages in order to foster a spirit of post-war amity—until his own master scholar had opened his mouth. The Archon-in-Waiting could almost feel Avarnon-Set’s black void eyes burn into his back. The vaulted dome ceiling far above his head suddenly seemed to contract inward, until it felt like a tight stone bubble that threatened to suffocate everyone inside the giant rotunda.

Tarbet’s Master Sage, P’Tah, continued his unexpected rant;
“I observed the tests throughout much of the Guild study in question, with many thanks to Shepherd Tubaal-qayin Dumuzi and Lord Avarnon-Set. While the results were sometimes remarkable, they were not quite what the researchers had anticipated. Many anomalies occurred during the course of the experiments, some of them extremely distressing. Why did the final report we just heard make no mention of them? They affected half the subject population. That seemed significant at the time; why not now?”

The Guild Worker Studies delegate briefly turned red and coughed.

Tarbet noticed that the visiting Temple magi from Aztlan had perked up at P’Tah’s comment. He smiled over at Pandura, but she seemed too preoccupied to notice.

The Guild Representative recovered his wit, and asked, “Which anomalies do you refer to, Master P’Tah? There were several, as you say.”

Tarbet’s Sage explained. “The subjects were all young violent male offenders.
When daily given a mandatory dose of artificial humors to settle violent impulses, many improved remarkably when provoked—as your report stated. Yet, nearly half had serious side effects. Several withdrew into a near-stupor after a week, and lost their ability to function normally in basic activities. Some eventually killed themselves. A number reacted violently to provoking stimuli, just as before. Still others developed a form of dementia with odd sexual behaviors—though it is likely that the sexual proclivities were already present, and inhibition was simply erased by the dementia.”

The Guild Mage fidgeted. “What is your point?”

P’Tah shrugged. “I question the wisdom of using this elixir so widely in our academies simply to manage unruly children. While extreme cases doubtless benefit from such potions, human nature suggests that overworked instructors will increasingly use them for most any student with disciplinary problems. That could produce consequences worse than the disorders we are trying to fix. The idea will continue to develop that violence and lack of discipline are merely ‘illnesses,’ and not a matter of character. It’s always easier to administer potions than to discipline difficult students relentlessly and effectively.”

Mnemosynae of Aztlan stood. “I agree!”

Tarbet felt like melting into his seat.

The Guild Representative laughed. “Madam, please! The Temples are always trying to explain everything by creation codes!”

“I also agree with you,” returned Mnemosynae, her large violet eyes flaring. “Too often the Temple—both in Lumekkor and Aztlan—has had overly simplistic assumptions about the causes of human behavior. I think the Orthodox sage from Sa-utar is right in pointing out that neither creation codes nor glandular humors determine our behavior quite as completely as our respective magi have imagined. Childhood environment also plays an important role—I’ve seen Guild and Temple research that suggest this also.”

P’Tah said,
“True, Mistress Mnemosynae, though environment is no more a determiner than any of the other factors. People often rise above their environments, as well as their heritage, and physical debilitation, if they believe they can. Your own Temple studies suggesting genetic determiners for same-sex preference have fared even more miserably whenever reviewing magi have tried to duplicate your initial findings…”

Tarbet wanted to shut him down, but could
not; it would be a tacit admission that scholastic inquiry in Sa-utar was no longer free to follow the evidence. Still, he felt Avarnon-Set’s silent eyes burn.
Keep talking, P’Tah; it may well be your last opportunity to do so as a respected sage.

Mnemosynae nodded, and smiled. “Yes, but can we systematically expect people to ‘rise above’ as you say?
Most often, they do not. That being so, how do you suggest we curb the epidemic crime among our younger generations, which disrupts our academies to the point of near paralysis? Youngsters cannot learn in an atmosphere governed by fear. We only avoid this in the Temple complexes by strict ideological control, but that stifles creative thought, which we need if we are to progress.”

P’Tah smiled, and bowed his head to her. “I have no magic potions, Mistress. I suspect that creation codes, bodily humors, and environment all play a role in weighting our root inclinations in various directions. Yet in the end, we must recognize that people do have a real choice in whether or not to follow those inclinations. We must begin to hold them accountable again…”

“Outrageous!” Duruvanu of Ayar Adi’In shouted. “We covered this almost a century ago! We have shown that behavior is alterable both surgically and chemically! Freedom of will is just a glandular illusion!”

Mnemosynae raised an eyebrow. “We know much, Master Duruvanu, but I wonder if we know well enough what we don’t know, perhaps even what we can’t know?”

Tarbet glanced over his shoulder at Avarnon-Set, whose eyes, it turned out, were not burning into his back at all, but staring dreamily off in another direction altogether.

“It sounds to me,” said Duruvanu, “as though our ‘Orthodox sage’ is letting too much of his theology into his research.”

P’Tah chuckled. “And you don’t? We Orthodox have moved away from our religious ideology to embrace the new learning. However, the ‘new learning’ merely imposes a different religious ideology, which demands a faith just as dogmatic in its assumptions as one based on Seti’s Code. You claim your ‘Powers’ are not gods, yet you give them the same deference in all practical decisions about the real world. Should not that ideology also be subjected to the same skepticism that Orthodoxy has?”

The blood drained from Tarbet’s face.

The Second Priest of Ayar Adi’In slammed his fist on the arm of his sage rostrum. “We have tested the learning we received from the Powers by rigorous study and technical application! Where are your miracle cures, P’Tah? What answers did your Iyaredists offer the world? While Khavilakki embraced the future, your scholars hid their heads in the sands of the past! Now, after centuries, you want back into the discussion as though you never left! Catch up with the times, man!”

P’Tah smiled.
“I’ve never been an Iyaredist, and I’m fully conversant with the academic work of the last four centuries. Your best research methodology first developed here—not in Lumekkor. The technology of Bab’Tubila merely makes it easier for us to observe with greater precision. My concern is not with miracle cures, but with preserving integrity in scholastic inquiry.”

“So what exactly is your point?”

“My point is that we all have powerful sponsors who have certain desired outcomes for our work. While we appreciate their generous support, we do them no service if we deliver their ‘desired outcomes’ in theories that only superficially conform to reality. Political choices based on erroneous information are always disastrous in the real world, no matter who makes them.”

Tarbet quickly stood up before his sage could go any farther. “Thank you, delegates. I think we should recess, and refresh ourselves before pressing on to the next issue.”

The noise in the rotunda dissolved into a dull roar as the magi broke up into little groups around the refreshment tables.

Tarbet jumped when a heavy hand clasped his shoulder from behind. He swung around to see Avarnon-Set loom over him like a hairy siege tower.

“Why did you cut your sage off so abruptly? It was just getting interesting,” said the Titan.

“Don’t mind him, Lord. He’s always been eccentric.”

“No need to apologize, Tarbet. I’ve given your little ‘Orthodox Renewal’ a lot of thought, and decided that I like the idea.”

“Lord?”

Avarnon-Set grabbed two goblets of wine from a passing steward, and sat down next to the Archon-in-Waiting to hand him one. “Your sage has an aura of integrity that I think will be useful to us in the long run.”

Tarbet’s heart rate began to slow. “That is why I sponsored him. He’s also quite right when he says that he was never an Iyaredist. Between you and me, P’Tah and I used to secretly visit Ayar Adi’in together quite a bit in the old days—just ask Pandura.”

Avarnon-Set bared a yellowed fang in what, hopefully, was a smile. “No need. I trust your judgment. Between you and me, it was refreshing to see Duruvanu put in his place—by a supposedly ‘backward’ sage, no less. He’s been a spiteful little toad since I advised Tubaal-qayin to open a Guild Directive on creation code research, and the alchemy of the human brain. The good Second Priest knows that I’m sanity-checking Temple work, and I’m finding all sorts of mistakes…”

“Such as?”

“I’m not at liberty to say—yet.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Let’s just say, Tarbet, that the Temple’s increased drive for fetal and infant ‘sacrifices’ is not entirely spiritually motivated. They’ve run into a snag, and they need a wider range of genetic material than anticipated.”

“You sound as though you want them to fail. Should I raise the ire of my ‘Orthodox faithful?
’”

“Let’s not go quite that far. I don’t want them to fail entirely. The Guild is dependent on Temple sacrifices for its tissue banks too, after all.”

Tarbet sipped his drink. “Will I see you at the dedication of Kunyari’s Monument?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” said Avarnon-Set, his whiteless eyes glaring off as if into the future
, to plan another stage in the creation of a world.