“I see now, Death, why it is that any god—even Brahma—may pass and be succeeded by another—save for yourself.”
“Thank you. Have you a plan of any sort?”
“Not yet. I will need more information as to the strength within the City. Has Heaven demonstrated its power in recent years?”
“No.”
“If there were some way of testing them without showing our hand. . .. Perhaps the Rakasha ,..”
“No, Sam. I do not trust them.”
“Nor I. But they can sometimes be dealt with.”
“As you dealt with them in Hellwell and Palamaidsu?”
“Well answered. Maybe you are right. I will give it more thought. I wonder about Nirriti, though. How go things with the Black One?”
“In recent years, he has come to dominate the seas. Rumor has it that his legions grow, and that he builds machines of war. I once told you, though, of my fears in this matter. Let us stay as far away from Nirriti as possible. He has but one thing in common with us—the desire to topple Heaven. Neither Accelerationist nor Deicrat, should he succeed he would set up a Dark Age worse than the one we’re beginning to come out of. Perhaps our best course of action would be to provoke a battle between Nirriti and the Gods of the City, lie low and then shoot at the winners.”
“You may be right, Yama. But how to do this?”
“We may not have to. It may happen of its own accord—soon. Mahartha crouches, cowering back from the sea it faces. You are the strategist, Sam. I’m only a tactician. We brought you back to tell us what to do. Pray think about it carefully, now that you are yourself once more.”
“You are always stressing those last words.”
“Yea, preacher. For you have not been battle-tested since your return from bliss. . . . Tell me, can you make the Buddhists fight?”
“Probably, but I might have to assume an identity I now find distasteful.”
“Well. . . perhaps not. Keep it in mind, in case we’re hard put. To be safe, though, practice every night in front of a mirror with that esthetics lecture you gave back at Ratri’s monastery.”
“I’d rather not.”
“I know, but do it anyway.”
“Better I should practice with a blade. Fetch me one and I’ll give you a lesson.”
“Ho! Fair enough! Make it a good lesson and you’ve got yourself a convert.”
“Then let us adjourn to the courtyard, where I will proceed to enlighten you.”
As, within the blue palace, Nirriti raised his arms, the rockets screamed skyward from the decks of his launch ships to arc above the city of Mahartha.
As his black breastplate was buckled into place, the rockets came down upon that city and the fires began.
As he donned his boots, his fleet entered into the harbor.
As his black cloak was clasped about his throat and his black steel helm placed upon his head, his sergeants began a soft drumbeat beneath the decks of his ships.
As his sword belt was hung about his waist, the soulless ones stirred within the holds of the vessels.
As he put on his gauntlets of leather and steel, his fleet, driven by winds fanned by the Rakasha, approached the port.
As he motioned to his young steward, Olvagga, to follow him into the courtyard, the warriors who never spoke mounted the decks of the ships and faced the burning harbor.
As the engines within the dark sky gondola rumbled and the door was opened before them, the first of his ships dropped anchor.
As they entered the gondola, the first of his troops entered Mahartha.
When they reached Mahartha, the city had fallen.
Birds sang in the high, green places of the garden. Fish, like old coins, lay at the bottom of the blue pool. The flowers in bloom were mainly red and big-petaled; but there were also occasional yellow wunlips about her jade bench. There was a white, wrought-iron back to it, upon which she rested her left hand while she regarded the flagstones across which his boots scuffed as he moved in her direction.
“Sir, this is a private garden,” she stated. He stopped before the bench and looked down at her. He was beefy, tanned, dark of eye and beard, expressionless until he smiled. He wore blue and leather.