“So I was told. That is why I did not call you Paramount Mother.”
Indira’s irritation was replaced by curiosity.
“I do not understand the distinction.”
Ushulubang whistled humorously. “There is, in some ways, no distinction. The Paramount Mothers of the tashop arren do not rule their peoples, in all truth, despite the hootings of the awoloshu.”
Indira mentally translated Ushulubang’s terms. The Anshaku term tashop arren meant “the thickness of the meat.” All of the gukuy religions which she had so far encountered, except that of the Pilgrims, based their cosmological concepts on the analogy between the world and a huge clam. In all the languages she knew, in fact, the term for “world” was actually “The-Clam-That-Is-The-World.” The earth itself, rich and fecund, was “the Meat of the Clam.” The pearly gray sky above was “the mother-of-pearl.” The shell of the Clam protected the world from the unknown terrors which lurked in the Infinite Sea beyond. (When the gukuy had learned that the humans had come to Ishtar from somewhere in that Infinite Sea, their nature as “demons” had been confirmed. Who but demons could survive such a voyage?)
The religion of the Pilgrims did not seem to be much preoccupied with questions of cosmology and cosmogony. Like the ancient religions and philosophies of China, the Pilgrims were far more concerned with questions concerning social life and ethics. They accepted the basic cosmological concepts of their time—except for a slight twist. Goloku had said, once, that the world was not a clam but a snail. The distinction, to Indira, captured the essence of what made the religion of the Pilgrims such a new and revolutionary factor in gukuy history. Clams are passive. Filter feeders. Whereas snails—far more so on Ishtar than on Earth—were active animals who hunted for their food. To the traditionalists, the world simply was. To the Pilgrims, the world was going somewhere, in search of something.
Much like the ancient Chinese, the civilized realms of the south viewed themselves as the center of the world. The Chinese had called their land “the Middle Kingdom;” the southern gukuy called theirs “the thickness of the meat.”
She had greater difficulty with awoloshu. The prefix “a” simply indicated the plural. “Wolosh” was the stem of the word. From the context, she assumed that Ushulubang was referring to the priests of the southern societies. But, in Anshaku, the term for priest was “wulush,” not “wolosh.”
She understood, suddenly. The word used by the sage was a pun. There was a type of snail on Ishtar, called oloshap. It was a scavenger and, as such, considered unclean by the gukuy. It also produced, when startled, a loud and ugly-sounding noise. (The Anshaku word for “fart,” in fact, was a derivative—shapu.)
Chuckling, she shook her head. “I still do not understand why a paramount mother is different—”
“Are you familiar with the customs of the barbarians?”
Indira nodded. “To some degree. There are a number of former tribespeople among the Pilgrims.”
Ushulubang made the gesture of agreement, which shifted to the gesture of regret.
“Not so many as I would prefer. The barbarians, despite their crudities, are a better-souled folk than the dwellers of the tashop arren. Especially the Kiktu. I raise this matter because the barbarians do not have the custom of Paramount Mothers.”
Indira nodded again. “No, they call them the Great Mothers. They are not revered; but, I think, have more real say in the affairs of their people.”
The gesture of respectful disagreement.
“To a degree, that is true. But the difference is much more profound. The Paramount Mothers of the tashop arren are the source of the people, the embodiment of the people’s life. Among the barbarians, however, the Great Mothers are also the protectors of the people.”
Indira frowned. “The protection of my people is in the hands of our Captain, Joseph Adekunle.” (She pronounced it in the Anshac manner: Yoshefadekunula.)
“Just so. Yet . . . you are called the `Admiral of the Ocean Sea.’ The term may be translated, I believe, as the `Leader of the Journey Through Infinity.’ ”
Indira gritted her teeth. God damn Hector Quintero and Julius Cohen. Men and their stupid jokes.