Which my favouring skies shall show.’
Here I lied, and herein I
Stood to pay the penalty.
Marvellous the Planets shone
As I ranged from coast to coast;
But beyond comparison
Rode the Star that I had lost.
I had lied, and only I
Did not guess the penalty!
When my Heavens were turned to blood.
When the dark had filled my day.
Furthest, but most faithful, stood
That lone Star I cast away.
I had loved myself, and I
Have not lived and dare not die!
Uncovenanted Mercies
IF the Order Above be but the reflection of the Order Below, as that Ancient affirms who has had experience of the Orders,1 it follows that in the Administration of the Universe all Departments must work together.
This explains why Azrael, Angel of Death, and Gabriel, Adam’s First Servant and Courier of the Thrones, were talking with the Prince of Darkness in the office of the Archangel of the English, who — Heaven knows — is more English than his people.
Two Guardian Spirits had been reported to the Archangel for allowing their respective charges to meet against Orders. The affair involved Gabriel, as official head of all Guardian Spirits, and also Satan, since Guardian Spirits are exhuman souls, reconditioned for re-issue by the Lower Hierarchy. There was a doubt, too, whether the Orders which the couple had disobeyed were absolute or conditional. And, further, Ruya’il, the female spirit, had refused to tell the Archangel of the English what the woman in her charge had said or thought when she met the man, for whom Kalka’il, the male Guardian Spirit, was responsible. Kalka’il had been equally obstinate; both Spirits sheltering themselves behind the old Ruling: — ’Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth?’ The Archangel of the English, ever anxious to be just, had therefore invited Azrael, who separates the Spirit from the Flesh, to assist at the inquiry.
The four Powers were going over the case in detail.
‘I am afraid,’ said Gabriel at last, ‘no Guardian Spirit is obliged to — er — give away, as your people say, his or her charge. But’ — he turned towards the Angel of Death — ’what’s your view of the Ruling?’
‘“Ecclesiastes, Three, Twenty-one,”‘ Satan prompted.
‘Thank you so much. I should say that it depends on the interpretation of “Who,”‘ Azrael answered. ‘And it is certainly laid down that Whoever Who may be’ — his halo paled as he bowed his head — ’it is not any member of either Hierarchy.’
‘So I have always understood,’ said Satan.
‘To my mind’ — the Archangel of the English spoke fretfully — ’this lack of — er — loyalty in the rank and file of the G.S. comes from our pernicious system of employing reconditioned souls on such delicate duties.’
The shaft was to Satan’s address, who smiled in acknowledgment.
‘They have some human weaknesses, of course,’ he returned. ‘By the way, where on earth were that man and the woman allowed to meet?’
‘Under the Clock at — -Terminus, I understand.’
‘How interesting! ‘By appointment?’
‘Not at all. Ruya’il says that her woman stopped to look for her ticket in her bag. Kalka’il says that his man bumped into her. Pure accident, but a breach of Orders — trivial, in my judgment, for — ’
‘Was it a breach of Orders for Life?’ Azrael asked.
He referred to that sentence, written on the frontal sutures of the skull of every three-year-old child, which is supposed, by the less progressive Departments, to foreshadow his or her destiny.
‘As a matter of detail,’ said the Archangel, ‘there were Orders for Life — identical in both cases. Here’s the copy. But nowadays we rely on training and environment to counteract this sort of auto- suggestion.’
‘Let’s make sure,’ Satan picked up the typed slip, and read aloud: — ‘“If So-and-so shall meet So-and-So, their state at the last shall be such as even Evil itself shall pity.” H’m! That’s not absolutely prohibitive. It’s conditional — isn’t it? ‘There’s great virtue in your “if,” and’ — he muttered to himself — ’it will all come back to me.’
‘Nonsense!’ the Archangel replied. ‘I intend that man and that woman for far better things. Orders for Life nowadays are no more than Oriental flourishes — aren’t they?’
But the level-browed Gabriel, in whose department these trifles lie, was not to be drawn.
‘I hope you’re right,’ Satan said after a pause. ‘So you intend that couple for better things?’
‘Yes!’ the Archangel of the English cleared his throat ominously. ‘Rightly or wrongly, I’m an optimist. I do believe in the general upward trend of life. It connotes, of course, a certain restlessness among my people — the English, you know.’
‘The English I know,’ said Satan.
‘But in my humble judgment, they are developing on new planes. They must be met and guided by new methods. Surely in your dealings with the — er — more temperamental among them, you must have noticed this new sense of a larger outlook.’
‘In a measure — ye-es,’ Satan replied. ‘But I remember much the same sort of thing after printing was invented. Your people used to come down to me then, reeking — positively Caxtonised — with words. Some of ‘em were convinced they had invented new sins. We-ell! Boiled and peeled (we had to do a little of that, of course) their novelties were only variations on the Imperfect Octave — Pride, Envy, Anger, Sloth, Gluttony, Covetousness, Lust. Technique, I grant you. Originality, nil. You may find it so with this new Zeitgeist of theirs.’
‘Ah, but you’re such a pessimist,’ the Archangel retorted, smiling. ‘I do wish you could meet these two I have in my eye. Charmin’ people. Cultured, capable, devout, of the happiest influences on their respective entourages; practical, earnest, and — er — so forth — they will each, in their spheres, supply just that touch which My People need at the present moment for their development. Therefore, I am giving them each full advantages for self-expression and realisation. These will include impeccable surroundings, wealth, culture, health, felicity (unhappy people can’t make other people happy, can they?), and — everything else commensurate with the greatness of the destiny for which I — er — destine them.’
The Archangel of the English rubbed his soft hands and beamed on his colleagues.
‘I hope you’re justified,’ said Satan. ‘But are you quite sure that your method of — may I call it cosseting people, gets the best out of them?’
‘‘Rather what I was thinking,’ said Azrael. ‘I’ve seen wonderful work done — with My Sword practically at people’s throats — even when I’ve had to haggle a bit. They’re a hard lot sometimes.’
‘Let’s take Job’s case.’ Satan continued. ‘He didn’t reach the top of his form, as your people say, till I had handled him a little — did he?’
‘Possibly not — by the standards of his age. But nowadays we don’t give very high marks to the Man of Uz. Qua Literature, rhetorical, Qua Theology, anthropomorphic and unobserved. No-o, you can’t get away from the fact that new standards demand new methods, new outlooks, and above all, enlarged acceptances — yes, enlarged acceptances. That reminds me’ — the Archangel of the English addressed himself to Azrael ‘I’ve sent in — perhaps it hasn’t come up to you yet — a Demi-Official asking if you can’t see your way towards mitigating some of your Departmental methods, so far as those affect your — er — final despatch- work. My people’s standards of comfort have risen, you know; and they’re complaining of the — the crudity of certain vital phenomena which lie within your provenance.’
For one instant Azrael lifted his eyes full on the hopeful countenance of the Archangel of the English, but no muscle twitched round his mouth as he replied: — ’Death is a little crude. For that matter, so’s Birth; but the two se
em, somehow, to hang together. What would you say to an Inter-Departmental Committee — ’
‘Or Commission — that gives ampler powers — to explore all possible avenues with a view to practical co-ordination? The very thing,’ the Archangel ran on. ‘As a matter of fact, I’ve had the terms of reference for such a conference drafted in the Office. I’ll run through ‘em with you — if you can spare a few minutes.’
‘‘Nothing I should like better,’ Satan cried whole-heartedly. ‘Unluckily, I’m not always master of my time.’ He rose. The others followed his example and, due leave taken, launched into the Void that lay flush with the Office windows.
* * *
‘Now, that,’ Satan observed after an interval which had sunk three Universes behind them, ‘is a perfect example of the dyer’s hand being subdued to what it works in. “We don’t give high marks to the Man of Uz.” Don’t we? I’m glad I’ve always dealt faithfully with all schoolmasters.’
‘And he objects to my methods!’ Azrael muttered. ‘If he weren’t immortal — unfortunately — I — I could show him something.’
The notion set them laughing so much that the Ruler of an Unconditioned Galaxy hailed them from his throne; and to Satan’s half- barked ‘No! — No!’ — sign that they were Powers in flight and not halting — returned a courteous ‘On You be the Blessing.’
‘He has left out “and the Peace,”‘ said Azrael critically.
‘There is no need. They’ve never conceived of Your existence in these parts,’ Gabriel explained, as one free of all the Creations.
‘Really?’ Azreal seemed a little dashed. ‘Our young English friend ought to apply for a transfer here. I fancy I should have to follow him before long.’
‘Oh no,’ Gabriel chuckled. ‘He’d eliminate you by training and environment. You’re only an Oriental flourish — like Orders for Life to a soul. D’you suppose there’s no one in his Office who knows what Kismet means?’
‘I should say not — from the quality of the stuff he sends down to us,’ Satan complained. ‘Did you notice his dig at me about “our pernicious system” of Guardian Spirits? I do my best to recondition his damned souls for reissue, but — ’
‘You do it very thoroughly indeed,’ said Gabriel. ‘I’ve said as much in my last Report on Our Personnel.’
‘Thank you. It’s heavier work than you’d imagine. If you’re free for a little, I’d like to show you how heavy — ’
‘You’re sure it wouldn’t — ?’ Gabriel began politely.
‘Not in the least. Come along, then!...Take Space! Drop Time! Forgive my going first...Now!’
The Three nose-dived at that point where Infinity returns upon itself, till they folded their wings beneath the foundations of Time and Space, whose double weight bore down on them through the absolute Zeroes of Night and Silence.
Gabriel breathed uneasily; for, the greater the glory, the more present the imperfections.
‘It’s the pressures,’ Satan reassured him. ‘We came down too quickly. Swallow a little and they’ll go off. Meantime, we’ll have some light on our subjects.’
The glare of the halo he wore in His Own Place fought against the Horror of Great Darkness.
‘Have we gone beyond The Mercy?’ Azrael whispered, appalled at the little light it won.
‘They’re delivered into My hands now,’ Satan answered.
‘Usen’t there to be a notice hereabouts, requesting visitors to leave all their hopes behind them?’ Gabriel peered into the Gulf as he spoke.
‘We’ve taken it down. We work on hope deferred now,’ Satan answered. ‘It acts more certainly.’
‘But I’m not conscious of anything going on,’ Azrael remarked.
‘The processes are largely mental. But now and again...For example!’ There was a minute sound, hardly louder than the parting of fever-gummed lips in delirium, but the Silence multiplied it like thunders in a nightmare. ‘That is one reconditioning now,’ Satan explained.
‘A hard lot. They frighten me sometimes,’ said Azrael.
‘And me always,’ Gabriel added. ‘I suppose that is because We are their servants.’
‘Of whom I am the hardest-worked,’ Satan insisted.
‘Oh, but you’ve every sort of labour-saving device, these days, haven’t you?’ Gabriel said vaguely.
‘None that eliminate responsibility. Take the case of that man and that woman we were talking about just now. What conclusion did you draw from the evidence of their Guardian Spirits?’
‘There was only one conclusion possible — if they should meet,’ Gabriel replied. ‘You yourself read the copy of their Orders for Life.’
‘And what did our young friend do? ‘Rode off on glittering generalities about uplift and idealism and his precious scheme for debauching them both with all the luxuries, because “unhappy people can’t make others happy.” You heard him say it? He’s hopeless.’ Satan spoke indignantly.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t go as far as that. He’s English.’ Gabriel smiled.
‘And then,’ Satan held on, ‘did you see him look at me when I read out “Evil itself shall pity?” That means, if and when the worst comes to the worst I shall have to put it straight again. I shall be expected to do the whole of his dirty work — unofficially — and shoulder the unpopularity — officially. I shall have to give that couple Hell — and our young friend will take the credit of my success.’
‘The attitude is not unknown elsewhere,’ said Azrael. ‘Ve-ry little would persuade our worthy Michael, for instance, that his Sword is as effective as mine.’
‘I’ll prove my contention now,’ Satan turned to Gabriel, ‘if you’ll permit — we don’t need both of ‘em — the woman’s guardian, Ruya’il, to report here for a moment. It’s night in England now. I can jam “all ill dreams” while she’s off duty. We shall have to manage the interview like one of their own cinemas, but you’ll overlook that, I hope.’
Gabriel gave the permission without which no Guardian Spirit may quit station, even for a breath, and on the instant, monstrously enlarged upon Space, her eyes shut against the glare that revealed her, stood Ruya’il in her last human shape as a woman upon earth.
Azrael moved forward.
‘One instant,’ said he. ‘I think I have had the pleasure of meeting you, Mrs. — ’ (he gave her her name, address, and the date of her death). ‘You called for me at the time. You seemed glad to meet me. Why?’
‘Because I wanted to meet Gregory,’ came the answer, in the flat tones of the held.
‘There’s our trouble in a nutshell,’ said Satan, and took over the inquiry, saying: — ’You were under Our Hand for recondition and re- issue, Mrs. — . For what cause?’
‘Because of Gregory.’
‘Who was re-issued as Kalka’il. And he because of you?’
‘Yes.’
‘On what terms were you issued as Guardian Spirits, please?’
‘There were no terms. Gregory and I were free to meet in the course of our duties, if we could. So we did. It wasn’t his fault.’
‘Those, by the way, were the last words Eve ever spoke to me,’ Azrael whispered to Gabriel.
‘Indeed!’ Satan resumed. ‘So you met and, incidentally, your charges met, too. I think that will be all — oh, one minute more. You know — ?’ he named a railway terminus.
‘Yes.’ The eyelids quivered.
‘In London and — Ours here?’
‘Oh, please, don’t! Yes!’ A tear forced its way out, and glittered horribly on the cheek.
‘I beg your pardon! Thank you so much. I needn’t detain you any longer.’
‘Now you see my position,’ said Satan to the others. ‘Our young friend should have had all this information on his blotter before his inquiry began. When he called me in, he should have communicated it to me. Then I should have known where I stood. But he didn’t. He makes my job ten times more difficult than it need be by burking the essentials of it — stabs me in the back with his crazy schemes of b
etterment — and expects me to carry on!’
‘I’m afraid my Department must be responsible for the original error of detailing those two particular Guardian Spirits to those two particular people,’ said Gabriel. ‘At any rate, I accept the responsibility, and apologise.’
Satan laughed frankly. ‘No need. We’ve been opposite numbers since Adam. Mistakes will happen. I merely wished to show you something of our young friend’s loyal and helpful nature.’
‘Meantime, what steps are you taking with that man and that woman?’ Azrael asked.
‘Tentative, only. Listen!’
He lifted his hand for silence. A broken whisper that seemed one with all Space fought itself into their hearing:
‘My God! My God! Why hast Thou forsaken me?’
‘Was that an echo?’ said Gabriel presently. ‘Or was it in duplicate?’
‘In duplicate. But we don’t attach too much value to that class of expression. Very often it’s only hysteria — or vanity. One can’t be sure till much later.’
‘What were those curious metallic clicks after the message?’ Azrael asked.
‘In the woman’s case,’ Satan explained, ‘it was one of her rings against her tiara as she was putting it on to go to Court. In the second, it was the Star of some Order that the man was being invested with by his Sovereign. That proves how happy they are!’
A certain amount of human time passed.
‘Surely there’s music, too,’ Gabriel went on. ‘And words?’
Both were most faint, but quite clear:
‘I have a song to sing, oh!
Sing me your song, oh!’
A break, a patter of verse, and then — on an almost unendurable movement that seemed to brush the heart-strings:
‘Misery me! Lackaday-dee!
He died for the love of a lady!’
Last, the fall of a body.
‘Oh, that’s on a stage somewhere,’ said Satan. ‘They must be enjoying themselves now at a theatre. Everything’s coming their way. “Unhappy people can’t make people happy, y’know.” Well! Now you’ve heard them, I suggest that, if it doesn’t bore you too much, you meet me here on — Azrael must know the dates — they are due for filing and we’ll watch the result.’
Complete Works of Rudyard Kipling (Illustrated) Page 583