A Broken Paradise (The Windows of Heaven Book 3) (38 page)

arbet hardly ever slept any more. If
not from the incessant noise of rabid anti-war protests outside the palace walls, it came from inside his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, he could still see the shape of the giant fire mushroom imprinted on the back of his eyelids in garish negative purple. It always seemed to have tormented faces woven together into its roiling flames.
I have seen what Tubaal-qayin Dumuzi only heard about. What sort of divine visitation consumes islands? No wonder the Emperor went soft in his head at the end. He was a metalsmith—an engineer. Did he somehow comprehend the inner workings? Did his knowledge drive him mad?

The Archon thrust away his silk sheets, and flew up from the bed. Spulpa’s mountainous form emitted a sleepy groan at his motion, and then settled back to a snoring slumber.

Outside, the roar of angry mobs muted into background noise.

He wrapped himself in a robe, and hurried down to his private study, wishing instead that he had the courage to go call on the girl he had given permanent residence in the guest suite. They had become good friends, and Tarbet had hired her as an assistant. But strangely enough, they did not sleep together. Luwinna’s face could still bring out the best in him, even if she could not give him rest on long sleepless nights.

Could enough of the Fire of the Gods massed together cause a literal World-end? Has A’Nu given man the power to be author of his own judgment and execution?
Tarbet resented how this forced him to rethink his position on something so basic this late in life.

He sat down behind his reading table, and looked for something to divert his mind from the implications. A mountain of reports sat waiting for him. Most of the official courier scrolls came from the various observers he had sent out into his realm to watch for Avarnon-Set’s new movement of spirits. So far
, the only signs seemed to be coming out of Akh’Uzan—more World-end fever!
All I need is for the radicals in Akh’Uzan to unite with the Orthodox holy war crowd! Wait a minute, what’s this?

Tarbet lifted one of the report scrolls from Akh’Uzan, and read it more carefully
from its center.

A new thing is happening. Per your instructions, we have not followed too closely the World-end Literalist sects. Many in the youngest generation of near-marrying age have turned from the beliefs of their parents, and even from those of the newer “Lit” sects that still follow the World-end teachings of Q’Enukki, but without the strict moral code imposed by the elders.

At first
, we thought this was just another rash of excess from the small community of conscript refugees known to inhabit the foothills. However, credible witnesses, including me, have seen many divine lights in the area now for a number of years. One of our operatives recently attended a gathering at a place called Grove Hollow, and saw remarkable things.

His report was not
terribly coherent at first. The sect likely subjected him to a mind-altering potion during the proceedings, which appeared to be a cross between an orgy and a religious ceremony similar to those of Far East and Far South primitives, but less formal. It seems that a Watcher, or some other heavenly creature, may have graced this event. The details get fuzzy at this point—lots of lights and flying disks with eyes. My man assures me that it was not all an illusion. The divine being spoke to him, telling him about his mission. It then gave details that only we would know about —some of which were unknown to my operative. I conclude the encounter was genuine.

The Imperial Sky-lords reported no flights near Akh’Uzan at the time.
I already wrote that I too have witnessed heavenly lights over the region.

My man suggests that we do not make our interest in this new cult known to its adherents at this time, and I concur. The “Hollowers”—as the locals call them—view the archonic hierarchy with suspicion, and contempt almost as strong as
what they have for the Lit sects. Only time and maturity will soften this. The divine messenger did not give away my operative’s cover to the others, and did not seem hostile to our intentions, however.

We can plant members inside the group to facilitate a gradual shift in their attitudes without destroying what attracts
the young people of the region to them. We know one girl in particular who is close to one of the informal leaders. She comes from the right background, and even shows signs that she still might hold to some of the archonic traditions. We plan to approach her soon. I will keep you informed of the results.

Tarbet let the papyrus drop back to the table and roll onto the floor.

“Well that’s that,” he muttered to himself. “I guess we just give the vine plenty of sunlight and room to grow. Soon we will see what kind of fruit it yields. If only
my problems with Samyaza were that simple.”

iva found the view from the central ziggurat breathtaking—she had never been up to Floodhaven before. Below the stepped pyramid, a series of steep-roofed houses, stone huts, shops, and dormitories lined the North N’Zar crest. Drainage channels grooved the middle of each street, spanned by covered bridges or tunnels; beyond these, far below, stretched the valley of Akh’Uzan in patch quilt greens and hazy golds.

On her left, southward, rose the ancient altar peak where A’Nu-Ahki made sacrifice with Muhet’Usalaq
before receiving the first of his World-end revelations. He had mentioned that Floodhaven’s elder, Nestrigati, had ordered the construction shifted northward to accommodate the holy ground.

Tiva could not understand the relationship between the two elders. On the one hand, her father-in-law was adamant that
World-end would destroy everything that lived on dry land—including Nestrigati’s haven. On the other, A’Nu-Ahki seemed to have only good things to say about the man. It seemed to her that if Nestrigati would not obey the one whom Archon Iyared, Lumekki, and the other seers had prophesied would be the Comforter
from E’Yahavah A’Nu then he was no better than her father was.

Still, A’Nu-Ahki kept visiting him—each time with a friendship gift. This time it was a cart of fresh baked bread. Tiva had volunteered to go along, and tend the quasi-reptilian pack beast. Actually, she and Khumi were fighting again, and she had wanted to get away from the
drydock.

He shouldn’t have been staring at Tsulia that way in the market place! She dresses like such a slut nowadays!
Tiva felt herself sinking back into their morning tiff. Then the truth hit her.
She dresses as I used to—like Khumi still seems to want me to. Maybe I could when we’re alone. Oh, who am I kidding? He doesn’t even look at me when we’re alone anymore! Maybe I really have let myself go…

She turned away from the ziggurat’s railing, and scuffed toward the main entrance. She could hear the voices of A’Nu-Ahki and Nestrigati in the midst of some heated debate inside. She tried to resist the temptation to eavesdrop. Yet when her morning’s argument began to replay itself in her mind, she decided that eavesdropping was the lesser of two evils.

Nestrigati’s voice almost pleaded. “I’ve prayed about it, my old friend. I simply cannot believe that E’Yahavah would destroy us. I mean, what are we to do anyway; build a fleet of ships down in the valley? The drydock alone took you almost as long as the vessel itself did.”

A’Nu-Ahki sounded grieved rather than angry. “I’ve come this last time because I owe you so much, Nestrigati, both for the lives of my father and son, and for standing by me in the Haunted Lands long ago. Henumil and his cronies would have had the clan in violent revolt if not for you. I want you to know that whatever you decide, I will always be grateful…”

The Floodhaven Elder cut him off. “Then why do you come up here to undermine my work? What have I done to make you hate me so?”

“
I don’t hate you. E’Yahavah said unequivocally that ‘every living thing on dry land shall die.’ That leaves no logical option for a mountain haven. I don’t want to undermine you. Those are simply his exact words. As far as Iyared’s and Lumekki’s prophecies about me go—well, you know them as well as I do.”

“Nu,” Nestrigati said with a conciliatory chuckle, “even in the Holy Writ there are times when the word ‘every’ does not mean
every
in the absolute sense. For example, when the heralds of Sa-utar went forth and, ‘read Seti’s Code to
every
man in the earth’ we know for a fact that they did not include the savage mottled tribes of the Far East, nor the Dragon covens of Zu in the North Mountains…”

A’Nu-Ahki tried to interject, “Please, I’m begging you…

Nestrigati spoke over him: “Even the Seers admit as much later when they mention the men who ‘had not heard the reading of the Code, and lived in darkness.’ I believe the prophecies, too. I just don’t think there is anything there that absolutely demands we should all attach ourselves to your household—beyond the established fosterage to Muhet’Usalaq, and other than in friendship—to build ships. You are A’Nu’s Comforter—I have always affirmed this. Yet what does that mean exactly?”

“It means
E’Yahavah spoke to me in detail about his rescue plan…”

Nestrigati spoke right over him again. “You have comforted us all by accurately foretelling the nature of
World-end, and when it would come, so that we can all be prepared. Why undermine that holy calling now by coming up here to spread fear and discourage our labors, which you have inspired?”

“Is that what you
really think I’m doing?”

“Oh, I know you mean well. Your ship is a grand venture that I am sure will see you through
World-end safely. I have every confidence of meeting up with you after it’s all over—if you haven’t been swept too far away—that is. Why can’t you respect me enough to afford my prayers the same power and honor I give to yours?”

“It’s not a question of whose prayers are stronger, or
about respect—how could I not respect the man who risked his life to save my son and father? It’s about the fact that I specifically asked him about Floodhaven. What part of that don’t you understand?”

“What are you implying—that I have impure motives?”

A’Nu-Ahki said, “Nonsense! None of us is completely pure—I have made no such implication! It is not as though I haven’t offered to expand my vessel’s living quarters, and even to build a second ship. Nor has my reading of the prophecies been far-fetched. How can you call me A’Nu’s Comforter, and believe I would lie about the very words of E’Yahavah?”

Tiva wondered if Nestrigati would ever answer as the silence stretched on. Then he said, “Nu. I find your demand that we return to the valley misguided at best, arrogant and hateful at worst. If I haven’t gained your respect by now, I don’t know what else I can do.”

“There is only one E’Yahavah. I know what he said about how we are to survive. I have gold left in the coffers from Paru’Ainu. If we start now, there’s still time to build a second ship. I can berth two hundred more on my vessel, with my commanded cargo. A second ship could berth well over a thousand—that’s a hundred more than you have living up here. We could build it in the pan drain downstream of our drydock, where it would have as much protection from the mountain run-off as our vessel. But we’d have to start now; otherwise the wood won’t have time to harden properly.”

“No! No! No! No!” Nestrigati shouted. “It’s ludicrous! If we’re not safe without you up here, what makes you think we’d be safe in a second ship with you in the other one?”

“It has nothing to do with me personally! You would be following the divine pattern under E’Yahavah’s appointed leadership for this time…”

“
It’s not about you, it all about you—which is it? My backers would never go for it! Besides, yours are not the only prayers E’Yahavah hears! ‘Every’ does not always mean
every
!”

“Are you willing to gamble your life, your family
’s, and all these people on such a strained technicality?”

Tiva jumped at a loud slam
—like that of a fist hitting a table. Then she heard Nestrigati say, “Leave my haven, before I start to think of you as a false Comforter!”

“
E’Yahavah’s Word-speaker explicitly said that nothing on land was safe. I told you this the day after it happened, and ever since. If you think I’d lie about such a thing, you can’t think I’m the true Comforter, Nestrigati, so stop pretending. You can’t have it both ways.”

“So it’s all about you!”

A’Nu-Ahki’s voice sank to growl. “Not because I want it to be.”

Tiva scurried away from the entrance when she heard A’Nu-Ahki’s approaching footsteps. He emerged from the passageway looking haggard.

“We’re done here,” he grunted, and motioned for her to follow him down the central stair to where the cart and pack beast were tied.

Tiva understood emotional exhaustion. She saw it in her father-in-law’s eyes, as they wound down the mountain trail back to Q’Enukki’s Retreat in the cart. He said nothing, but she knew
that he must have been doing something similar to what she had been doing over her morning quarrel.

Hindsight taunted her in the silence with all the witty retorts she could have made at Khumi.
Ours was just a stupid spat. What must A’Nu-Ahki be going through in a dispute with so many lives at stake?

She only spoke because she did not want to
get sucked back into her own cycle of bitter ruminations.

“I’m confused, Father.”

“So am I.”

“I mean this thing with the Floodhaven Elder. It’s plain that you used to be friends…”

“So you were listening?”

She flushed. “I’m sorry! But you
both got rather loud.”

He smiled with only half his mouth. “So we did. I was once his captain. He also saved the lives of my father and ‘Peti at the Battle of the Balimar Straits. The Aztlan chain-cannons were raking through our trenches
, after the enemy captured U’Sumi and me. Nestrigati led a strike on the enemy gunners, and disabled their weapon before it could exterminate the wounded in the trenches where my father and Iyapeti lay. He then carried them out from behind enemy lines.”

“That would make him a brave and noble man,” Tiva reasoned, reshaping her original comparison of Nestrigati to Henumil.

“Yes it does. Not too bright, but brave and noble.”

“Why then does E’Yahavah want to kill him in the
World-end?”

“He doesn’t.”

She felt herself sinking back into a layer of Lit reality that she had really come to hate—even now. “Why then won’t the Divine Name make an exception for Floodhaven?”

“Do you also think I’m just being cruel and unfair? Or that E’Yahavah doesn’t care about these people?” he asked, looking away from her to watch the narrow mountain path ahead.

“No, I just don’t understand; that’s all.”

“Neither do I
; really. Nestrigati has many noble qualities. Still, nobody can claim that the Divine Name owes them for their comparative nobility in contrast to thugs and giants—or even to most of the Seer Clan. E’Yahavah has given us an explicit plan that we must follow in order for it to work—like any set of directions for any procedure meant to operate in the real world of cause and effect.”

Tiva laughed without mirth. “I used to think I wanted to live in the real world. Now I’m not so sure.”

“We all have days like that, Dear One. But we live there whether we want to or not. Nestrigati is trying to bend reality to his will. He’s selective about which part of the Seers’ revelation he embraces, as if he can make the parts he dislikes magically untrue simply by not embracing them. He doesn’t seem to understand that it’s all for real.”

“He’s built Floodhaven. That makes him pretty close.”

The cart rounded another switchback in the trail, and settled back on to a straightaway. A’Nu-Ahki turned and looked at her again. “It does no good if a physician correctly diagnoses an illness, but refuses to prescribe the proper remedy. We all have a choice here. We can join the world in shaking our fists at the heavens—which changes nothing—or we can heed the prophecies—all of the prophecies. In the end, E’Yahavah has said what he has said. If Nestrigati had truly listened, we would not be riding down this mountain road alone.”

Tiva asked,
“How did we come to this?”

“Us personally, or the world?”

She glanced at him. “The Seer Clan.”

A’Nu-Ahki stared off ahead. “I’ve been giving that a lot of thought lately. I’m not sure any one answer can cover it. I suppose the Basilisk exploited our blind spots while we relied too heavily on our own strengths.”

“But everybody relies on their strengths.”

He nodded. “Yet, it’s often in the shadow of our strengths that our blind spots are largest.”

“Which strengths hide the Seer Clan’s big blind spot?”

“That is no easy question. Centuries ago
, we focused exclusively on preserving and teaching Seti’s exposition of the Sky Signs and Q’Enukki’s prophecies. We memorized them and quoted them for everything—still do.”

Tiva squinted at him. “Was that wrong?”

“Quite the contrary; it’s the only true foundation for all knowledge, wisdom, and life. Where we failed was in how we sometimes applied them. For one, we focused only on spiritual and moral issues to counter the broader tendency among the Orthodox to chase economic and political power.”

“But hadn’t the old priestly system become decadent by doing that?”

“Quite. Yet that didn’t cancel our responsibility to explore and manage E’Yahavah’s
creation—which was his first command to us all. We forgot that Seti and Q’Enukki didn’t just speak prophecy—they laid the foundations of art, history, and technology, which became dominated by the inventions of Qayin’s children only after we neglected to build there. Our father believed that E’Yahavah was creator of all reality—not just the spiritual side. When persecutions and massacres drove us from land to land—and even hindered us in Seti’s country—we retreated further and further into where we felt safe and strong.”