“No, Master.”
“Why not?”
“This part of the mountains is new to me.”
The man was probably lying, but it was useless to punish him. He dropped the matter. “Lead on.”
They trudged steadily up the slope toward the immense cube to where a broad flight of steps, wider still than the cube itself, led to its nearer face. The lieutenant hesitated momentarily before starting to mount them. He was aware of a general feeling of unease, a sense of mild disquietude, as if a voice were warning him of unnamed danger.
He set foot on the first step. A single deep clear note rolled across the canyon; the feeling of uneasiness swelled to an irrational dread. He could see that his men were infected with it. Resolutely he mounted the second step. Another and different tone echoed through the hills.
He marched steadily up the long flight, his men following reluctantly. A slow, ponderous and infinitely tragic largo kept time to his labored steps, labored because the treads were just too broad and the lifts just too high for comfort. The feeling of impending disaster, of inescapable doom, grew steadily greater as he approached the building.
Two doors of heroic size swung slowly open as the lieutenant ascended.
In the archway thus created stood a human figure, a man, dressed in emerald robes that brushed the floor. White hair and flowing beard framed a face of benign dignity. He moved majestically forward from the doorway, reaching the top of the flight of steps just as the lieutenant attained it. The lieutenant noted with amazement that a halo flickered unsubstantially around the old man’s head. But he had little time to consider it; the old man raised his right hand in benediction and spoke:
“Peace be unto you!”
And it was so! The feeling of dread, of irrational fright, dropped away from the PanAsian as if someone had turned a switch. In his relief he found himself regarding this member of an inferior race — so evidently a priest with a warmth reserved for equals. He recalled the Admonitions for dealing with inferior religions.
“What is this place, Holy One?”
“You stand at the threshold of the Temple of Mota, Lord of Lords and Lord of All!”
“Mota-h-m-m-m.” He could not recall such a god, but it did not matter.
These sallow creatures had a thousand strange gods. Three things only do slaves require, food, work, and their gods, and of the three their gods must never be touched, else they grow troublesome. So said the Precepts for Ruling. “Who are you?”
“I am an humble priest, First Server of Shaam, Lord of Peace.”
“Shaam? I thought you said Mota was your god?”
“We serve the Lord Mota in six of his thousand attributes. You serve him in your way. Even the Heavenly Emperor serves him in his. My duty is to the Lord of Peace.”
This was perilously close to treason, the lieutenant thought, if not to blasphemy. Still, it may be that the gods have many names, and the native did not seem disposed to make trouble. “Very well, old Holy One, the Heavenly Emperor permits you to serve your god as you see him, but I must inspect for the Empire. Stand aside.”
The old man did not move, but answered regretfully, “I am sorry, Master.
It cannot be.”
“It must be. Stand aside!”
“Please, Master, I beg of you! It is not possible for you to enter here.
In these attributes Mota is Lord of the white men. You must go to your own temple; you cannot enter this one. It is death to any but his followers.”
“You threaten me?”
“No, Master, no — we serve the Emperor, as our faith requires. But this thing the Lord Mota Himself forbids. I cannot save you if you offend.”
“On the Heavenly Emperor’s service — stand aside!” He strode steadily across the broad terrace toward the door, his squad clomping stolidly after him. The panic dread clutched at him as he marched and increased in intensity as he approached the great door. His heart seemed constricted, and a mad longing to flee clamored through him senselessly.
Only the fatalistic courage of his training made him go on. Through the door he saw a vast empty hall and on the far side an altar, large in itself, but dwarfed by the mammoth proportions of the room. The inner walls shone, each with its own light, red, blue, green, golden. The ceiling was a perfect, flawless white, the floor an equally perfect black.