THE GOD BOX

by Barry B. Longyear

  She sat upright and looked to the image of Captain Shadows. "You, Pagas Shadows. Do you va'ue your secrets?"

  The image looked up, turned left then right, then over its shoulder. The figure bellowed, "Where are you?"

  "I am above the clouds over your head, yet I am in your dreams."

  The image of Shadows lurched above the fire, looking high and low. "Why can't I see you?"

  "Accept that it is so, Pagas. Now, to your secrets."

  "If I value them, what then? I cannot pay you in a dream."

  Bachudowah let go with a shrill laugh that chilled my blood. "Captain, the manner in which you spend your dream go'd is much more important than how you spend your go'd awake."

  "I pay you, then, nothing." His hideous face broke into a grin.

  "So be it. Pagas."

  Bachudowah swirled her hands above the fire. The inside of the hut seemed to disappear to be replaced by a swirl of multicolored clouds. The sounds of a terrible windstorm filled the hut. The image of Shadows moved above us all until only his face looked down at us. The bright light muted, then grew dimmer and dimmer until all we could see was Bachudowah and her silver eyes.

  I leaned across Tayu and poked Syndia in her arm. "Don't we have a few secrets we'd like to keep from the good captain?" I pointed up where Shadows's face had been.

  "There are no real secrets. Korvas."

  There was a long silence, then Bachudowah stood. "This, then, is your story. Pay c'ose mind, for in it are answers you seek and more mysteries. Now I begin."

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  The haunting notes of a strange flute filled my hearing as the voices of the outer circle wailed an unfamiliar refrain. As the voices became very quiet, Bachudowah began: "Know you of Books of Fayn, scriptures of ancient Itkahn faith before it shattered, its pieces becoming the many faiths. Hundred Books of Fayn contain mysteries, truths, untruths, and many prophecies written and saved for over thousand years.

  "Orrintime, have your mind fi' with image of baby grounder gir' carried by great man grounder of wea'th and power, Nabas, His Exce'ency, Sheva of Desivida." An image of the wealthily berobed governor holding a baby turned above the fire. "See? He cries, for chi'd's mother, sheva's sister, die in chi'dbirth from assassin's dart. Father dead, executed as traitor by Pherris, then first priest of Heterin Temp'e. Nabas, himse'f, unwed. With baby in his arms he swore to his spirit, goddess of smoke, Akitaia, who Nants called Nanteria, that he wou'd give the chi'd affection, education, wea'th, power, and position.

  "Howso, no grounder man in Desivida cou'd mind baby." There were snickers and wheezy laughs in the darkness. "Nabas he went to Nant Temp'e in Desivida to hire woman grounder to mind baby. Howso, Somas, first priest of Desivida Temp'e, had magic eyes. He saw in baby First One prophesied in ancient Books of Fayn: First One who wi' find Second One who wi' find great-hearted Warrior who, with his faithfu' Guide, wi' war with Hadyuzia, Destroyer of Wor'ds."

  I listened to the Dagas storyteller and the years peeled away. When I was very young my father had me attend instruction at the Nant Temple in Iskandar. That was something I ceased doing as a child when I left my father's house. Although Bachudowah called the Destroyer Hadyuzia instead of Manku, the story of the destruction was familiar to every child who had ever gone to any temple, for the prophecy had been handed down from the Itkahn religion through all of the offshoots of the parent religion that still existed.

  At a time selected by the stars, there would come upon the world a great destroyer, Manku. He would challenge the world to put forward a hero who would fight for all the world's races. If the hero that was selected won the battle with Manku, the world would be spared destruction. If the hero lost, or if no hero was put forward, the world and all that exists would become as dust.

  To prepare for this time, the Itkahn priests consulted the oracle of the flame-goddess, Heteris, in a cave on the side of the volcano, Mount Rubih. The oracle spoke from the flames, saying, "Guided by the Mirror of the Second, the Hero will be found by the Second, who will be chosen by a father's hand, kept by the First, loved by the Mirror, and burned by the Mirror to be gathered by the Smoke."

  As legend had it, a dispute broke out among the priests as to the meaning of the oracle and what to do about it. This led, eventually, to the splintering of the Itkahn religion and the establishment of all of the religions, each one claiming to have the truth of the prophecy and its fulfillment. I didn't know anyone who took the prophecy seriously. Current dogma was believed, but the story of the hero and the coming of the destroyer bordered on mythology. However, there were some things to consider.

  I remember the same year I left my father's house the Mankua Temple and all its followers were destroyed by a bolt of lighting that appeared out of a cloudless night sky. The streets of Iskandar were filled with terror as those who feared Angh the god of ghosts dusted off their prayers, asked directions to the nearest temple, and attempted to make last-minute deals with the powers of the universe. Not long afterward, just as the fear was subsiding by being explained away time after time, the Elassan Temple was swallowed by the ground.

  The Amuites and Nants kept silent about the destruction, but the Heterins were pigs up to their snouts in slop with pointing fingers and making moralistic comments about the wrath of Heteris, who was still a goddess of good to the Heterins.

  I remember the dangerous little jokes that implicated the Amuite priests in the destruction, and other jokes, more dangerous, that implicated the Heterins. The sense of all of the jokes and unspoken fears was that, in fighting to destroy each other, the splintered remains of Itkahn would leave Manku's challenge go unanswered.

  According to Bachudowah, the Nant priest Somas somehow determined that the baby brought to him by Sheva Nabas was the First One mentioned in the prophecy. Late one night the baby was stolen from her cradle in the sheva's palace. Nabas had the nurse and house servants tortured, sent his guard forth upon the city to frighten and bully the citizens, and offered a reward of one hundred thousand gold reels for the return of the child.

  When babies as far away as Shu'ei were either being stolen or traded in by their parents in hopes of getting the reward, Nabas realized the folly of his actions and called off the reward. The search continued for some time, but eventually it, too, ended. Nabas died alone in his grief.

  The image above Bachudowah's fire became that of a baby girl, who rapidly advanced in age as the storyteller talked. "Somas entered chi'd into temp'e where she 'earned Nant faith and became daughter of Akitaia. Then she was sent to temp'e in Iskandar to study fourteen Books of Fayn kept in secret chamber."

  The image grew older and more familiar. We were told how she entered the Amuite faith and studied the twenty-one Books of Fayn secretly held in the Amuite Temple. Then she entered the Heterin faith and studied the eleven Books of Fayn held in the Heterin Temple. I watched as a new image filled the space above Bachudowah's fire. It was the ancient Nant priestess, Ahjrah.

  "O'd woman, Nant priestess, Ahjrah, was First One." Bachudowah held out her clawed hands toward the boy, Tayu. "Second One." She held her hands out toward me. "Mirror of Second, the Guide."

  A bolt of panic streaked through my heart followed immediately by a laugh at how silly it all was. This was a legend from my childhood. How could it be about me?

  "Shhhhooooo!" The storyteller hissed as a frown crowded her brow. She studied Syndia and said, "Ah." She turned, examined the four Nant guards, and said, "Ah." She conjured down the face of Captain Shadows from above, studied it, and said, "Hu." She seemed to draw in upon herself, her arms folded, bending forward upon squatting legs until her head touched her knees.

  Just then a curious thing happened. Olassar's box rose from the floor, crossed through the fire, and came to rest next to Bachudowah. A drawer opened and the storyteller lifted her head and looked in. Her fingers went into the tiny drawer and
withdrew holding a magnificently faceted diamond the size of a plum. It was on a golden chain, and she put the chain around her neck, that lovely gem coming to rest between her two leathery flaps of breasts. The humor of the gods did not escape me as the box returned through the fire to me, all drawers empty as I soon confirmed.

  As she held the diamond in her claws, the storyteller's eyes went from silver to black. As they did so, the bright room of clouds and Shadows's face vanished, the dark hut returned, and a sigh of disappointment came from the Dagas in the assembly. Bachudowah stood and held out her hands for silence, which she immediately received. "Story not done. If I ta'k too much orrintime, without knowing end, I ruin it for you." She looked at me. "Mirror, named Korvas?"

  "Yes?" I answered warily.

  She held up that magnificent diamond that was worth half a million reels if it was worth a half-copper, and said to me, "Bring me back end to story. If you bring me back end to story, stone is yours."

  Now that's what I call curiosity. "How will I know I've reached the end of the story?"

  "God box will tell you. Do you agree?"

  "Of course—"

  —Before I could finish my sentence I was back on my horse, galloping like greased insanity through the gloomily dark forest. I wanted to feel my forehead to see if I had indeed been struck by the branch, I wanted to ask the others if they had been where I had been, but flying through the underbrush with Shadows barking at my heels, all I could do was hold the god box as it spoke to me saying, "I am with you; and keep down."

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  The horses were frothed with sweat and close to dropping that chilly evening as we came upon the crest of the trail overlooking the mountain village of Nita. The road we would follow to the land of the Omergunts could be seen weaving through the mountains toward the northwest. Meru pulled up his mount beside me and spoke to Syndia.

  "If we can get fresh horses there, we should be able to put plenty of distance between us and the Heterin captain." He turned around in his saddle, examined the trail we had made, and said to his sergeant, "Rosh, go ahead into the village with the party. I'll take Icen and Hara back the way we came and leave a few surprises for Shadows. The more we can delay him, the better our chances."

  Rosh's face had a hint of an objection to it, but he only said, "After we get the fresh horses, should we wait for you?"

  "No. If we haven't joined you within two hours, we aren't coming back."

  Rosh nodded, and Meru gathered up Icen and Hara and rode back down the trail. My head was still in the clouds with the Dagas, Bachudowah's diamond, and a half-million questions. I was too tired to think of any of them right then. As we crossed a stream and walked our horses into Nita, it was all I could do to keep my stumbling feet from pitching me onto my face.

  As we came onto the dusty village street, the smells of cooking mixed with those of smoke and freshly milled lumber filled my nose, awakening me to the reality of my empty stomach. I remembered that the last thing I had eaten was the pahmma given to me by my Dagas nurse. It had cleaned me out—always supposing that we had even been with the Dagas at all. In any event, from whatever reality we had recently hailed, I was hungry. As I was about to ask about food, Syndia handed the reins to Tayu and her horses to Rosh.

  "Ruuter. Korvas," she said, "both of you hand your reins to Sergeant Rosh." She faced the sergeant as we handed him our reins, and I rescued my god box from my saddle." Arrange for fresh horses and meet us at the inn."

  "Should I arrange horses for Commander Meru, Icen, and Hara?" The sergeant's eyes were hooded and his voice was devoid of emotion. There was an overly long silence that spoke volumes about the fact that more was going on than had been made clear to me.

  Syndia stared at Rosh with unblinking eyes until she finally said, "Of course."

  "I will need gold for the fresh mounts."

  The priestess handed the sergeant a small pouch. Rosh turned away and, pulling the horses by their reins, continued down the street past a sawmill. I looked around, and Syndia was leading Tayu toward a building. Ruuter and I followed. Since he was upwind, I felt obligated to mention, tactfully, his body-odor problem.

  "Ruuter, my friend?"

  "Yes, Master Korvas?"

  "You stink."

  "Thank you, Master Korvas."

  He had a big proud grin on his face as Syndia and Tayu entered the inn. I had the feeling that I hadn't quite gotten through to the Omergunt when I looked up at the sign above the inn's door. There was a picture of a club. Its business end was spattered with red. Beneath the picture were the words THE BLOOD AND BLUDGEON.

  Charming, I thought. Simply charming.

  I followed Syndia through the door, and the atmosphere in the room was very close. It was a combination of loud noises and a smoky fireplace, with every inch of floor space being taken up by drunken teamsters, loggers, miners, or their mates of the moment. The innkeeper was a scrawny man with a long, sad face. Syndia spoke to him, crossed his palm with a bit of silver, and he ushered us all into a private room where the noise level was considerably diminished.

  We sat down at the plank table, and soon plates of rolls, cheese, fruit, and meats arrived. Syndia took a roll and a small piece of cheese, Tayu took a single apple, Ruuter opened a pouch at his belt and withdrew some nuts that he put on his plate. With all of this disgusting moderation about me, I hardly knew what limits I should place or where to place them.

  I was about to take a lot of everything when the god box next to my plate clouded my vision. The only things I. could see clearly were a plum, a small piece of fowl, a single bread roll, and a piece of cheese.

  "This is not enough," I whispered to the box.

  "It is what you need," answered the box. "Give me the rest of your hunger."

  I glanced at Syndia and she was watching me. "Why do you watch me?" I demanded.

  "To see what you do."

  I looked at the box. "I would not be a man if I allowed myself to be ruled by a piece of furniture."

  "A god box does not rule, Korvas. It only suggests."

  I laughed. "Yes, but if I do not follow the suggestion, what punishment will the box issue?"

  "None. The box only suggests what you need to avoid calamity. If you ignore the suggestion, reality supplies the calamity, not the box."

  I thought of the times I had stuffed myself until my ribs ached. There were the physical pains, of course. But more than that, there were sleepy feelings of discouragement, confusion, disgust. It was a feeling almost that something other than myself was doing the eating—as though, instead of me eating the food, the food was devouring me. That was the calamity.

  I took the pieces of food indicated and put them on my plate. It didn't look like much. "What do I do if this isn't enough?"

  Syndia smiled. "It is enough, but if you still feel hungry, give the hunger to the god box."

  "That's what the god box told me to do."

  "It is good advice. Only a fool has to hear the same good advice a second time."

  I silently gave my hunger to the god box and took a bite of the cheese and bread and chewed them as I watched my companions feast. Syndia drank from a cup, and I checked to see what forbidden potion had been poured into mine. It was sweet water.

  Ruuter was gnawing upon those black nuts of his, and I asked him, "Are you turning back now?"

  He shook his head and grinned. "I go on with you to the land of the Omergunts."

  He still smelled terrible. I took another bite of cheese and glared at Syndia. "Well?"

  "Well what, Korvas?"

  "What's really happening?"

  A sly smile of pure mischief spread across her face. "You are becoming very philosophical. Armies of great thinkers have worked out their entire lives trying to answer that question."

  "You know what I meant."

  "Perhaps you could narrow down your in
quiry just a trifle," she suggested, still making fun of me. I pointed at Tayu.

  "How can this be my twin brother?"

  Her eyebrows arched. "You were born from the same womb on the same day. That makes you twins."

  "I am bigger, older-looking. He looks nothing like me."

  "You and Tayu have traveled different paths to get to this table, Korvas. The voyages have affected you differently. Accept that this is so and find peace. Was there something else?"

  "The Dagas," I said, referring to the tree creatures.

  "Yes?"

  "Were we there? Were we with them at all? Was there a storyteller—"