“I wish they would get on with this,” said Atalana.
“You should look humble and reverent,” said Iaachus.
“That is incompatible with my station,” she said. “I am the empress mother.”
After a time, the choirs, at another signal, it sped from the roof of the temple, were silent.
A hush fell over the crowd.
All eyes, at least those suitably positioned, were then on Sidonicus.
“Oh, Mighty Karch,” cried Sidonicus, continuing to look upward, a direction as good as any one supposes, “attend to your humble, unworthy devotee, Sidonicus of Telnar, supreme ministrant, blessed beyond blessings, holiest of men, exarch of the golden temple. We thank you for your mercies and blessings. We thank you for the illuminations of the holy prophet, Floon, identical with you, though different. We thank you for your table and the goods heaped thereon. We thank you, too, for the oil pools of Zirus, from which comes the sacred chrism by means of which we set apart one man from another, the clean from the unclean, the friend from the stranger, the true from the false, the right from the wrong, the good from the evil. We are now met here, before the golden temple, in the presence of thousands, to induct within the fold of Floon, and that of Karch, who are the same and yet different, a penitent and supplicating daughter, ignoble and ignorant, who, however unworthy, petitions admission into the fellowship of the one true faith, the brotherhood of Floon and Karch, who are the same and yet different.”
“What is he talking about?” asked Atalana. “Who is this penitent and supplicating, ignoble and ignorant daughter?”
“I think it is supposed to be you,” said Iaachus.
“I?” said the empress mother.
“I fear so,” said Iaachus.
At this point, like a benign cloud of purple, the ponderous figure of the exarch, flanked by two ministrants, swinging censers on golden chains, approached. This group was followed by another ministrant, holding the vial of sacred oil, wrapped in a white napkin, and he was followed by two short lines of ministrants, with folded hands.
“I do not like smelly things,” said the empress mother. “Too, I trust that the smudge will be quickly wiped away, as I do not wish to be soiled any longer than is necessary.”
“You should not speak so of holy incense or sacred chrism,” whispered Iaachus.
“Who will tell the empress mother how to speak, or what to say?” asked Atalana.
“Not I, surely,” said Iaachus.
“Greetings, noble daughter, on this blessed day,” said Sidonicus.
“Greetings,” said the empress mother. “I think I would like to have a word with you.”
“In a moment,” said Sidonicus. “Let us proceed with the ceremony.”
“What is this business about an ignoble and ignorant daughter, and such?” asked the empress mother. “Who do you think you are talking about?”
“Do not concern yourself with formulaic phraseology,” said Sidonicus. “Dismiss it.”
“It is not important?” asked the empress mother. “It is meaningless?”
“Yes,” said Sidonicus.
“Then why bother with it?” asked the empress mother.
“Please,” said Sidonicus. “Let us proceed with the ceremony.”
“Withdraw it,” said Atalana, menacingly.
“It is withdrawn,” said Sidonicus.
“Good,” said the empress mother. “You may proceed.”
“It is herewith certified,” said Sidonicus, solemnly, “that our daughter, Atalana, having been fully instructed in the holy truths of Floonianism, accepts, and subscribes to, such holy truths, and, of her own free will, begs to be admitted into the fold of Floon and Karch, who are the same, and yet different.”
“She is not begging,” said Atalana. “The empress mother does not beg. She is willing to put up with one thing or another, if it seems appropriate. Perhaps Karch is somewhere, though it does not seem clear where. Too, it is hard to argue with a custard. A custard is, after all, a custard.”
“‘Requests to be admitted into the fold of Floon and Karch, who are the same and yet different’?” suggested Sidonicus.
“‘Agrees’,” said Atalana.
“Done,” said Sidonicus, quickly holding out his hand, to the side. Instantly, the vial of oil, presumably extracted from a pool on Zirus, removed from its napkin, was placed in his hand by the ministrant who had been its custodian. Sidonicus lost no time in uncapping the vial, returning the cap, with a prayer, to the ministrant, applying the oil to his thumb, with another prayer, and handing the vial back, with another prayer, to its custodian, who then recapped it, and, with his own prayer, returned it to its napkin.
Sidonicus then lifted his oiled thumb.
“As I understand it,” said Iaachus, “the empress mother has been instructed in Floonianism.”
“Yes,” said Sidonicus, clearly annoyed, his thumb poised.
“Fully?” asked Iaachus.
“Yes,” said Sidonicus.
“I wonder if, inadvertently, one doctrine might not have been omitted,” said Iaachus.
“That seems scarcely possible,” said Sidonicus.
“A cardinal doctrine, not a little holy truth, but a big holy truth, indeed, a central holy truth, which might be of some interest to the empress mother?”
“Surely not,” said Sidonicus.
“Surely you know the doctrine I mean,” said Iaachus.
“I have no idea,” said Sidonicus, turning red with rage, thumb in the air.
“That women have no koos,” said Iaachus.
“What?” cried the empress mother.
“A minor doctrine,” said Sidonicus, “scarcely worth noticing.”
“I have no koos?” said the empress mother.
“Let us proceed with the ceremony,” said Sidonicus.
“If I do not have a koos, you do not have a koos either!” said the empress mother to the exarch.
“I suspect you are right,” said Iaachus.
“Why should I not have a koos, if you have a koos?” asked the empress mother.
“Most contemporary versions of Floonianism,” said Iaachus, “with their praised and inculcated ascetic proclivities, do not think highly of women. They are regarded as distractions and temptations. Their existence is regarded as being inimical to the life of the koos. Their presence jeopardizes and endangers the koos. When they are about who can keep his mind on holy things?”
“Sexless women are acceptable,” said Sidonicus, “though, to be sure, they have no koos.”
“Why did you not explain this to me?” asked the empress mother.
“It slipped my mind,” said Sidonicus, lowering his thumb.
“Let us proceed with the ceremony,” said Fulvius, concernedly, coming to the side of Sidonicus.
“Women are seen as constituting traps, and pitfalls,” said Iaachus. “They put the koos at risk. They scatter rocks on the road to holiness. They snare the unwary.”
“Why, then, do they exist?” asked the empress mother.
“To bear males, and daughters, to give birth to males,” said Iaachus.
“You seem to have inquired into theological matters,” said Sidonicus to Iaachus.
“A little, here and there,” said Iaachus.
“What has Floon to say of these things?” asked the empress mother.
“Contemporary Floonianism, as I understand it,” said Iaachus, “has very little to do with Floon. The earliest texts suggest that Floon thought that everything alive had koos or a koos, and even some things that were not alive as we usually think of it, such as rocks and mountains.”
“Such assertions must be interpreted, of course,” said Sidonicus. “They must be understood correctly, as expounded by conclaves and councils.”
“Holy truths do not come e
asily,” said Iaachus. “They must be crafted with care.”
“By Orak and Umba,” cried the empress mother, “this is absurd, preposterous!”
“False gods!” cried Sidonicus, in horror.
“How did Karch, a minor god on a minor world, a minor god amongst many gods, a god little known and obscure, come to be the one and only god?” asked the empress mother.
“It was probably difficult,” said Iaachus.
“What was the position of Floon on that question?” asked the empress mother.
“We do not know,” said Iaachus. “Apparently he gave the matter little thought.”
“I suppose it is to a religion’s advantage to have its god be the one and only god,” mused the empress mother.
“One would think so,” said Iaachus, “politically, socially, and economically.”
“Be careful that you do not tread on the shores of blasphemy,” said Sidonicus.
“I tread where I please,” said the empress mother. “I am the empress mother.”
“Of course, great lady,” said Sidonicus soothingly.
“One shore,” said Iaachus, “may have many names.”
“No koos, eh?” snapped the empress other.
“Be patient, great lady,” said Sidonicus, “within weeks we could convene a new council.”
“Take me home,” said the empress mother.
“Guards!” called Iaachus. “Conduct the empress mother from the platform. See that she reaches the palace safely.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“It is a bright and sunny day,” said Iaachus.
“A splendid day for the senate to meet,” said Otto.
“Auspicious,” said Iaachus.
“Was it wise for you to accompany me to the meeting of the senate?” asked Otto.
“I thought it well to do so,” said Iaachus.
“Where is our envoy to the senate, Titus Gelinus?” asked Otto.
“Inside, waiting,” said Iaachus.
“Shall we enter?” asked Otto.
“Wait,” said Iaachus. “We will be met, and conducted ceremonially up the steps, and within, by Clearchus Pyrides, the moderator of the senate. I see him now, descending the steps.”
“Should it not be the primarius,” asked Otto, the noble Timon Safarius Rhodius, of the Telnar Rhodii?”
“He is inside and will conduct us to our places of honor,” said Iaachus. “Gelinus is already there, near our places of honor.”
“And Orontius, the senate’s envoy to the palace?” said Otto.
“Inside,” said Iaachus, “with Gelinus.”
“Your majesty, and esteemed Arbiter,” said Clearchus Pyrides, “be welcomed. You do the senate honor.”
“The senate does us honor,” said Otto.
“One seldom sees the emperor in public,” said Clearchus.
“Perhaps you should look more closely,” said Otto.
“I do not understand,” said the moderator, from Inez IV.
“It is nothing,” said Otto.
Otto and Iaachus, well-robed, proceeding upward through a parted, respectful throng, climbed the broad, marble steps to the large, two-gated portal of the senate, following Clearchus Pyrides, moderator of the senate. Shortly thereafter, they reposed in two curule chairs, rather to the left of the portal as one would enter.
Titus Gelinus was seated nearby, and seemed agitated. He looked uneasily about. Orontius, on the other hand, the envoy of the senate to the palace, also seated nearby, seemed affable, and much at ease. He chatted in the direction of Gelinus, but to little effect, as the envoy of the palace to the senate seemed much distracted.
“How does the empress mother?” asked Otto of Iaachus.
“She is fatigued, but well,” said Iaachus.
“Your plan worked splendidly,” said Otto.
“It could hardly have failed,” said Iaachus.
“The projected coup of Sidonicus, the initiation of the empress mother into the rites of Floon, that intended to impress millions, propagate his faith, suggest an imperial endorsement for his particular version of a particular religion, and produce an epidemic of converts,” said Otto, “was a debacle.”
“I posted several in the crowds and even in the nearby streets,” said Iaachus, “to publicize the empress mother’s dissatisfaction with the exarch, and at least one tenet of his faith.”
“You are a cunning rascal,” said Otto.
“The best sort of rascal,” said Iaachus.
“I am grateful,” said Otto. “The pretentious, subtle, bubbling poisons of Sidonicus constitute a terrible danger to the empire. They divide citizens from one another; they breed contempt, loathing, and hatred, and profit from the pain they cause and the harm they do; they sow guilt; they sicken minds; they subvert respect and peace; they tear apart the chords of harmony; they undermine law and threaten civil order.”
“What evil would wear the cloak of evil?” asked Iaachus. “Evil prospers best when it wears the cloak of good.”
“The exarch is not done,” said Otto.
“Surely not,” said Iaachus, “but the empress mother’s public and patent refusal of initiation into his fellowship, particularly given the publicity leading up to the event and the prominence of its staging, dealt a grievous blow to at least one of his plans. His plot was foiled, and his ambitions thwarted. This contretemps should, if nothing less, considerably embarrass the exarch and, to some extent, reduce his prestige. Indeed, jokes are being told in the taverns.”
“Doubtless a new council will be called,” said Otto, “and it will be discovered that it was an indisputable article of faith, after all, all along, that women have a koos.”
“Perhaps,” said Iaachus. “It is hard to tell. The seductive and dangerous nature of women, their threat to the koos, and such, is stained deeply into the wool of Floonianism.”
“I remember,” said Otto, “that females, even female vardas, pigs, dogs, sheep, and such, were not allowed in the grounds of the festung of Sim Giadini. The brothers were horrified that such an intrusion might take place.”
“The greatest political flaw of Floonianism,” said Iaachus, “is its view of women.”
“How is that?” asked Otto.
“Women raise and nurture the young, and form their basic views in the first crucial years, when the child is least critical and most impressionable. Later the children will not even remember how they came to be as they are, what was done to them. A religion is most vulnerable for its first generation, but if it survives the first generation, much may proceed apace. Values and views are put into the young for which, no matter how strange or improbable they may be, they will be willing to die. Fanaticisms fly at one another’s throat. It is tragic. My greatest fear is that Floonianism will bring women into the fold of the koos, bestowing a koos upon them, appealing to them, courting and exalting them, making Floonianism a religion congenial to them, warm and comforting to them, making it, in effect, a religion which they think understands and treasures them. How better to secure a hold on future generations?”
“Interesting,” said Otto.
“More is involved of course,” said Iaachus. “Things proceed, as would be expected. Women, converted, now seek the higher life of the koos. They come to regard their body and its needs as troublesome impediments, to be overcome at best, or reluctantly yielded to, if one can do no better. So one is to be ashamed of one’s body and its needs. Such things jeopardize and threaten the koos. One, too, is to be dismayed that one’s beauty might stimulate male desire. How unfortunate! And how wicked are men, that they should be so stimulated! The world is mistaken. Nature is wrong. Let everyone feel guilty about everything. Let falsehood and stupidity reign. And one must strive to steel oneself against desire, so natural to a healthy body. One must regard it as regrettable, even dangerous. And so the animal
is sickened and made miserable. And, should nature be acknowledged, guilt ensues, followed by sterner resolutions, and more sickness and more misery, and so it goes, over and over, and on and on.”
“Surely there is profit in this for some,” said Otto.
“One supposes so,” said Iaachus.
“I suspect,” said Otto, “given the politics involved, Sidonicus will summon a new council, which will decide to give a koos to women.”
“Politics would surely recommend that,” said Iaachus. “But I think there would be much opposition to that in much of Floonianism.”
“I suspect so,” said Otto. “I recall the festung of Sim Giadini.”
“There might be divisions within councils, or even countercouncils,” said
Iaachus.
“What then?” asked Otto.
“Then a new crop of orthodoxies and heresies bloom,” said Iaachus, “each orthodoxy denouncing other orthodoxies as heresies, and so on, with all the predictable divisions, denunciations, and hatreds.”
“And bloodshed?” said Otto.
“Presumably,” said Iaachus.
“Titus Gelinus seems upset,” said Otto.
“He advised strenuously against your attendance here, as I recall,” said Iaachus.
“Yes,” said Otto, “as did several others.”
“That is my understanding,” said Iaachus.
“Only you, as I recall, amongst advisers,” said Otto, “were in favor of my attendance.”
“I see your attendance as not only advisable, but politically imperative,” said Iaachus.
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