The Magic Labyrinth

by Philip José Farmer

  "Nonmatter is what the old religions of Earth spoke of as the soul. But the definitions of the soul were always vague, very abstract. The peoples of ancient and classical times, and their unliterate ancestors, thought of it as a shadowy thing, a ghostly entity reflecting palely the matter to which it had been attached before death.

  "Later, more sophisticated peoples thought of it as an invisible entity, also attached to the body. But it could be re-fleshed after death, given a new and immortal body. Some Oriental religions thought of it as something which would be reabsorbed into the Godhead after numerous trials on Earth, after a good karma had been achieved.

  "All these had some truth in them; they saw parts of the total truth.

  "But we are not concerned with such philosophical probings. What we need are facts. The fact is that every living creature, from the simplest to the most complex, has its non-matter twin. Even an amoeba has its nonmatter twin.

  "But I don't want to get into confusing issues or too much detail. Not at this time.

  "The visitor said, 'Nonmatter is indestructible. That means that your body on Earth had its indestructible nonmatter twin.'

  "At this point, La Viro, who had said nothing before, interrupted.

  "'How many twins does a living creature have? I mean, a man changes in appearance. He gets older, he loses an eye or a leg. He gets a diseased liver. Is this nonmatter image like a series of photographs made of a man? If so, how often is the photograph made? Every second, once a month? What happens to the old photographs, the old images?'

  "The visitor smiled, and he said, 'The image, as you call it, is indestructible. But it records the changes in the physical body it's attached to.'

  "'Then what happens?' La Viro said. 'Wouldn't images of the rotting corpse be produced?'

  "As I told you," Göring said, "La Viro was illiterate and he had never been to a big city. But he was not stupid.

  "'No,' the visitor said. 'Forget for the moment about all matter and nonmatter except that composing humankind. The rest is irrelevant for our purposes. First, though, let's give this entity which you call a soul another name. Soul has too many incorrect meanings for humans, too many verbal reverberations, too many contradictory definitions.

  "Speak the word soul, and unbelievers will automatically become deaf to what follows. Those who believe in souls will always hear you through the mental constructs which they formed on Earth. Let us call this nonmatter twin the . . . ah . . . ka. That is an old Egyptian word for one of the several souls in their religion. Except for the Egyptians, it will have no special connotation or denotation. And they can adapt to it.'

  "From which," Göring said, "we know that the visitor knows something about Terrestrial history. Also, he could speak Canadian French, which means that he had studied much to prepare himself for this interview. Just as that Ethical who talked to Burton had learned English.

  "'Now,' the visitor said, 'we have the ka. As far as we know, it forms at the moment of conception, the union of sperm and egg. The ka changes in correspondence with the change in the body.

  "'The difference in the body and the ka at the moment of the body's death is this. During life, the body projects an aura. This is invisible to the naked eye – except in the case of a favored few – and floats above the head of the living person. It can be detected through an instrument. Seen through this device, the aura seems to be a globe of many colors and hues, whirling, swelling, contracting, shifting colors, extending arms, collapsing them. A wild and wonderful thing the beauty of which has to be seen to be appreciated. We call it the wathan.

  "'A person loses the wathan or ka at the moment of death, which is when the body is beyond revivification. Where does the ka go? As seen through our device, let's call it a kascope, it usually drifts off at once, carried by what etheric wind we don't know. Sometimes it remains attached to a locality, why we can't guess. But eventually it cuts loose and drifts off.

  '"The universe is filled with these, yet they can never increase enough to occupy all of space. They can intersect, pass through each other, an unlimited number can occupy the same space.

  "'We assume that the ka is unconscious though it contains the intelligence and memory of the dead person. So the ka wanders through eternity and infinity, a vessel for the mental potentiality of the living person. A frozen soul, if you will.

  '"When a dead person's body is duplicated, the ka reattaches itself to that body. No matter how far away it might be from the body in spatial terms, it flashes back at the first second of life of that duplicated body. There is an affinity between the two that knows no bounds. But when the reunion takes place, the ka has no memory of the interval between the moment of death of the first body and the first moment of consciousness of the second or duplicate body.

  '"However, some have said that it is possible that the ka is fully conscious during its bodiless periods. Evidence for this theory was lent by a certain phenomenon of afterlife which was well documented, I understand, in the 1970's. As I remember the accounts a significant number of men and women who were legally dead were revivified. They testified that while dead they had experienced out- of- body flights, had watched relatives grieve and had been yanked back into life. Whether or not the ka does have a memory during these times, we are concerned only with its incarnations, its enfleshed states.'

  "La Viro was both stunned and ecstatic. But he interrupted again, it seeming to be a human function, a built-in compulsion, to interrupt."

  Göring paused, then said, "As I know only too well."

  There was some laughter.

  '"Pardon me,' La Viro said. 'How do you make this duplicate body?'

  "He looked down at his own body and thought of how it had been dust and now was whole again.

  " 'We have instruments which can detect and scan the ka,' the visitor said. 'These can determine the nature of and location of each nonmatter molecule. From then on, it is a matter of energy-matter conversion.'

  "'Can you duplicate any ka at any stage?' La Viro said. 'I mean, what if a man died at eighty? Could you duplicate his ka at the age of twenty?'

  "'No. The ka of the eighty- year- old is the only one existing. Then, while the mind is unconscious, the body made from the records is regenerated to the twenty- year- old state. All defects are corrected. A recording of that body is made and destroyed. For the first resurrection on the surface of this planet, another energy-matter conversion is made. During this process, the bodies are unconscious.'

  "'What if you made two duplicates?' La Viro asked. 'At the same time? To which would the ka be attached?'

  '"Presumably, to the first that was revivified,' the visitor said. 'No matter how synchronized the new resurrections, there would still be at least a microsecond difference. Our machines cannot cut it so close that there is an absolutely simultaneous revivifying. Besides, that experiment would not be done. It would be evil. Unethical.'

  "'Yes,' La Viro said, 'but what if it were done?'

  "The body without a ka would develop its own, I suppose. And though the second body is the duplicate of the first in the beginning, it would soon become another person. Its different environment, different experiences, would differentiate it from the first. In time, though it would always look like the first, it would become another person."

  "But we are getting into minutiae. The important thing is this. Most disembodied kas go forever without consciousness.

  "At least, we hope so. It would be hell to be imprisoned in an intangible body, without control of it, without communication with others, yet aware of it all. The inevitable result would be the torments of the damned. It is too horrible to contemplate.

  "'Anyway, nobody who's been resurrected remembers the interval between death and the second life.'

  "And so," Göring said, "La Viro was told that out of the billions who died on Earth, only a minute fraction was not part of that wandering horde of kas. A few went out. Disappeared. The visitor did not know where and why. The Ancients had only told t
he Ethicals that these few had gone on. They had united with the Creator or were at least keeping company with It.

  "The visitor said that he could see that La Viro had many questions. He would answer a few, but they would be confined to the center of this subject. How did the Ethicals know that a few kas had gone on? How could every one of the billions of kas be numbered, be kept track of?

  "'You must have some awareness of the vast powers of our science and technology,' the visitor said. 'Even the forces that shaped this world and brought you back to life are beyond your imagination. But what you experience here is only a small part of what is available to us. I tell you that we have counted every ka that came into being on Earth. It took over a hundred years to do it, but it was done.

  "'You see, it is science that has brought about what was thought to be possible only to the supernatural. The mind of humankind has done what the Creator did not intend to do Itself. Because, I suppose, the Creator knew that sentient beings would do it. Indeed, it is possible that sentiency is the ka of God.

  '"Let me detour a little myself, though it is not really an irrelevancy. You seem to regard me as, if not a god, at least a cousin to one. I can hear you breathing hard, smell the fright in your sweat, see the awe in your face. Be not afraid. It is true that I am ethically advanced beyond you. But I am not proud because of that. You could catch up with me. Even, perhaps, overtake and pass me.'

  '"I have powers at my fingertips which make the science of your day look like an ape's. But I am no more intelligent than the most intelligent of Riverdwellers. I can make mistakes and errors.

  '"Also, keep this in mind. When – or if – you go out to preach, stress this always. He who climbs up may slip back. In other words, beware of regression. You do not know the word? Then, beware of backsliding. Not until the ka has winged its way outward forever is it safe from regression. Who lives in flesh lives in danger.

  '"That advice applies to me as well as to you.'

  "At this point, La Viro reached toward his visitor. He felt an urge to touch the man, to assure himself that he was indeed flesh and blood.

  "The visitor recoiled and cried, 'Do not do that!'

  "La Viro withdrew his hand, but his injured feelings showed. His visitor said, 'I am sorry, sorrier than you can imagine, but please do not touch me. I will say no more of this. But when you have gotten to the point where I may embrace you, then you will understand.'

  "And so, my brothers and sisters," Göring said, "the visitor proceeded to tell La Viro why he should found this new religion. The name of our organization was La Viro's idea, nor did the visitor compel La Viro to found it. He merely asked that he should do so. But he must have known his man, for La Viro said he would do as his visitor asked.

  "The principles of the Church of the Second Chance and the techniques for enfleshing them are not tonight's subject. It will take too long to propound and defend them. That is for tomorrow night's meeting.

  "At the end, La Viro asked the Ethical why he had chosen him, of all people, to become the founder of the Church.

  "'I am an ignorant half-breed,' La Viro said. 'I was raised in the deep Canadian forest. My father was a white trapper, and my mother was an Indian. Both were looked down upon by the British who ruled our land. My mother was almost an outcast in her own tribe because she married a white man. My father was scorned as a squawman, a dirty Frenchie, by the English he worked for.

  "'When I was fourteen, very large for my age, I became a lumberjack. At twenty an accident lamed me, and I spent the rest of my life cooking for the lumber camps. My wife was also half-Indian, and she brought in money by washing clothes. We had seven children, four of whom died young, and the others were ashamed of their parents. Yet we sacrificed for them and gave them love and a devout upbringing. My two sons went to Montreal to work and then were killed in France fighting for the English, who despised them. My daughter became a whore and died of a disease – or so I heard. My wife died of a broken heart.

  '"I don't tell you this because I ask for sympathy. I just want you to know who and what I am. How can you ask me to go out and preach when I could not convince my own children that my beliefs were right? And when my own wife died cursing God? How can I go out and talk to men who were scholars and statesmen and priests?'

  "The visitor smiled and said, 'Your wathan tells me that you can.'

  "The visitor stood up. He lifted the silver cord from around his neck and past his head, and he placed it around La Viro's neck. The golden helix now lay on La Viro's chest.

  '"This is yours, Jacques Gillot. Do not dishonor it. Farewell. I may or may not see you again on this world.'

  "La Viro said, 'No! Wait! I have so many questions!'

  "'You know enough,' the visitor said, 'God bless you.'"

  "He was gone. The rain and thunder and lightning were still making a tumult. Gillot went out a moment later. He could see no sign of the visitor, and after searching the stormy skies he returned to his hut. There he sat until dawn came up with the thunder of the grailstones. Then he went down to the plains to tell his story. As he had expected, those to whom he told his story thought he was crazy. But in time there were those who came to believe him."

  SECTION 8

  The Fabulous Riverboats Arrive at Virolando

  21

  * * *

  Over thirty-three years ago, he had arrived in Virolando. It was his intention to stay only long enough to talk a few times to La Viro, if he were permitted to do so. Then he would go wherever the Church sent him. But La Viro had asked him to settle there, though he had not said why or how long he could remain. After a year there, Göring had adopted the Esperanto name of Fenikso (Phoenix).

  Those had been the happiest years of his lives. Nor was there any reason to think he would not spend many more here.

  This day would be much like the others, but its sameness was enjoyable and little varieties would garnish it.

  After breakfast, he climbed up to a large building built on top of a rock spire on the left bank. Here he lectured his seminary students until a half-hour before noon. He went down swiftly to the ground and joined Kren at a grailstone. Afterward, they went up to another spire and strapped themselves into hang-gliders and launched themselves from the edge of the spire, six hundred feet above the ground.

  The air above Virolando glittered with thousands of gliders which slanted up and down, turned, dipped, rose, swooped, danced. Hermann felt like a bird, no, a free spirit. It was an illusion of freedom, all freedom was illusion, but it was the best.

  His glider was bright-red, painted so in memory of the squadron he had led after Manfred von Richthofen had died.

  Scarlet was also the symbol for the blood of the martyrs of the Church. There were many such in the skies, mingling their color with white, black, yellow, orange, green, blue, and purple craft. This land was blessed in having hematite and other ores from which pigments could be made. It was blessed in many things.

  Hermann sped above and below the bridges holding houses, spanning the gap between the spires. He passed closely to the wooden and stone pylons, sometimes too closely. It was sinful to risk his life, but he could not resist it. The old thrill of flight on Earth had returned, doubling in ecstasy. There was no motor roaring in his ears, no fumes of oil in his nostrils, no sensation of being enclosed.

  Sometimes he sailed by a balloon and waved at the people in the wickerwork baskets beneath them. During his holidays, he and Kren would board a balloon, rise to a height of a thousand meters, and let the wind carry them down The Valley. On long holidays, they would float for a whole day, talking, eating, making love in the cramped quarters while they rode without a bump, without a touch of the wind, since the balloon rode at the same speed as it did.

  Venting the hydrogen at dusk, they would land on the bank, pack the collapsed envelope in the basket, and take a boat back upstream next day.

  After half an hour, Hermann swooped down along The River, veered, and came down running on the bank
. With hundreds of others, he disassembled the glider, and then walked with a cumbersome bundle on his back to the spire from which he had jumped.

  A messenger wearing a chaplet of red and yellow blooms stopped him. "Brother Fenikso, La Viro wishes to see you."

  "Thank you," Hermann said, but a small shock traveled through him. Had the chief bishop decided that the time had come to send him out?

  The Man waited for him in his private quarters in the red-and-black-stone temple. Hermann was ushered through the high-ceilinged rooms to a small chamber, and the oaken door was closed behind him. The room was simply furnished: a big flat-topped desk; several large chairs of fishskin leather; some small ones of bamboo; two cots; a table with pitchers of water and some flavored alcohol, cups, boxes of cigars, cigarettes, lighters, and matches; a chamberpot; two grails; pegs in the walls from which hung cloths; a table beside a mica mirror on the wall; another table holding the lipsticks, small scissors, and combs which the grails occasionally provided. There were several rugs of bamboo fiber and one star-shaped fishskin on the floor. Four torches burned, their ends thrust into wall-holders. The private door in the outside wall was open now, letting in the air and sunlight. Vents in the ceiling gave additional ventilation.

  La Viro rose as Hermann entered. He was huge, about six feet six inches high, and very dark. His nose was the beak of a giant eagle.

  "Welcome, Fenikso," he said in a deep voice. "Sit down. Would you like a drink, a cigar?"

  "No, thank you, Jacques," Hermann said. He sat down in the easy chair indicated.

  The chief bishop resumed his seat. "You've heard about this giant metal boat coming up-River, of course? The drums say it's about eight hundred kilometers from the southern border. That means it will reach our border in about two days.

  "You have told me all you know about this man Clemens and his partner, John Lackland. You did not know what happened after you were killed, of course. But apparently those two succeeded in repelling their enemies and in building their boat. They are going to pass through our territory soon. From what I hear, they are not warlike, and so we need fear no trouble. After all, they are dependent upon cooperation from those who own the grailstones along The River. They have the power to take what they want, but they don't use it unless they have to. However, I have heard some disturbing reports about the behavior of some of the crew when the boat has stopped for – what is it called? – shore leave. There have been some ugly incidents, mostly to do with drunkenness and women."