“What error is that?”
Ushulubang’s huge-eyed stare was piercing.
“The belief that Goloku brought us the Answer. When what she really brought us was a thing much greater. She brought us the Question.”
Ushulubang rose. “And now, with your permission, I will leave you. Tomorrow, perhaps, we can speak again. But I fear I am old and weak, and it has been a long journey from Shakutulubac.”
Indira nodded. That human expression was now familiar to the gukuy on the mountain. Ushulubang’s reaction to it demonstrated, once again, that the old sage had prepared well for this meeting.
“I thank you.” She turned to go.
“One moment, please,” said Indira.
Ushulubang looked back.
“You did not answer my question. What did you mean—when you said that you were not certain until you met me?”
“When I heard that demons had come to us, and that there was one among them who knew the Answer, I had thought the tale must be wrong. But until today, I was not sure. Until you denied that Enagulishuc is the holy tongue, in words as sharp as stone.”
“I do not understand.”
“Just so did Goloku flail us, when we fell into error. When I heard your words, I understood why the Coil sent demons to the world, and my soul was filled with love. I had feared, in the depths of my heart, that we would lose the Way. Without a flail to lash the error of the Answer, it is so easy to fall aside.”
“I do not understand.”
Green ripples marched across Ushulubang’s mantle.
“Just so. You have seen the statue of Goloku in the temple at Fagoshau?”
“Yes.”
“It is no longer there. I smashed it with my flail when I saw it.” A whistle of derision. “These spawn”—a gesture to her companions— “were shocked and aghast. That is because they had fallen into the error of the Answer.”
A faint brownish ripple went across Ushulubang’s mantle.
“Yet I should not be proud. I too had fallen aside, without realizing it. Until you flailed me, great mother of demons.”
“I do not understand.”
The gesture of profound respect. “Just so. Enagulishuc is indeed not the holy tongue. It is the tongue that will pave the road of holiness.”
“I’m impressed,” said Julius softly, after Ushulubang left. When she looked at him, Indira saw that there was no trace on his face of whimsy.
“So am I,” she replied. “I always wondered what it would be like to meet the founder of Christianity.”
Julius frowned. “What do you mean? Ushulubang’s impressive, but she hardly seems divine.”
Indira shook her head. “I wasn’t talking about the Christ. Jesus inspired the religion that took his name. But Christianity was founded by St. Paul.”
Julius stared out the doorway at Ushulubang’s receding figure.
“You think so?”
Indira shrugged. “It’s an analogy, and like any analogy it’s suspect. For one thing, the Way of the Coil is a totally different doctrine than Christianity. Insofar as there’s a parallel on Earth, it reminds me more of Taoism than anything else.”
“You’ve always said Buddhism was the closest parallel.”
“Yes, I have. But now that I’ve met Ushulubang, I will no longer say it.”
Julius attempted to pursue the matter further, but Indira was clearly distracted. More than distracted, Julius eventually realized. She was completely lost in her own thoughts.
Indira met again with Ushulubang the following day. But the meeting was brief. Although Indira was burning with the desire to pursue what she had glimpsed of the sage’s philosophy, practical matters had intervened—in their usual, overwhelming manner.
“How long will you stay?” she asked Ushulubang.
The sage made the gesture of completion. “I will die here, on the Chiton.” A whistle. “Though not soon, I hope.”
Indira shook her head. (Another human gesture which had become familiar to the gukuy.)
“I did not mean you personally. I meant—” She waved her hand, encompassing the huge throng outside the hut.
“We have come to stay,” replied Ushulubang. The gesture of respectful inquiry. “With your permission, great mother of demons.”
“Don’t call me that!”
The gesture of obedience. “As you wish. May I ask why?”
“I am not the ruler of my people.”