God of Tarot (15 page)

She laughed, causing the volcanoes to quiver hazardously. “And I thought members of the Order of Vision were humorless!”

“Some are,” Brother Paul said. “Let me hear out the Swami; then I shall be free to talk with you at leisure.” Delightful prospect!

“My warning can wait upon a more propitious occasion,” the Swami said sourly. “It concerns Northole.”

“That’s an odd name,” Brother Paul observed, hoping to relieve the tension again.

“We have simplistic nomenclature,” Amaranth said. “That’s Southmount you came from; this is Westfield; the Animation pit is Northole; and the water to the east of the village is—”

“Eastlake,” Brother Paul finished. “Yes, it does make sense. What did you want to ask me?”

“Nothing,” she said.

“Perhaps I misunderstood. I thought you said—”

“Never pay too much attention to what a woman says,” the Swami said.

She ignored him elegantly. “I said I wished to speak with you. I am doing that.”

Brother Paul smiled with bafflement. “Assuredly. Yet—”

“You overcame my Breaker with your bare hands, without hurting him or yourself. I need to study you, as I study the Breaker. This is my job: to comprehend the full nature of my subject.”

“Ah. So you must comprehend the type of person who balks the animal, by whatever freak of circumstance,” Brother Paul said. He had had the impression that her interest was in him personally, but this was really more realistic. What real interest would a girl of her attractions have in a sedate stranger? “Yet I remain confused,” he went on.

“That’s all right,” she said brightly.

The Swami mellowed enough to put in an explanation. “Survival is a narrow thing here,” he said. “We must labor diligently to gather wood for the arduous winter, and anything that interferes with this acquisition of fuel is a community concern. The Breaker interferes, forcing us to travel from the village in armed parties—a ruinously wasteful expenditure of manpower. Therefore we study the Breaker, hoping to neutralize it.”

“Wouldn’t it be simpler to kill it?” Brother Paul asked.

“Kill it?” the Swami echoed, as if baffled.

Now it was the girl’s turn to make the explanation. “Many of our sects object to taking the lives of natural creatures. It is a moral matter, and a practical one. It is impossible to know what the ramifications of unnecessary killing may be. If we killed this local Breaker, another might merely move into its place. A smarter or more vicious one. If we killed them all, we could wreak ecological havoc that would in turn destroy us. Back on Earth the environment was ravaged by the unthinking war against pests, and we don’t want to make that mistake here. Also, we need beasts of burden, and the Breaker, if it could be tamed and harnessed, might be an excellent one. So we protect ourselves with the tridents, not trying to kill the Breaker or any other predator. We are studying our problems before acting.”

“That is what I am here to do with the problem of Animation,” Brother Paul pointed out.

“Which is why you must be apprised of the danger first,” the Swami said. “The Breaker is a minor menace; Animation is a major one.”

“I am willing to listen,” Brother Paul reminded him.

The Swami was silent, so Brother Paul addressed Amaranth. “How is it you have this dangerous job of observation? You do not carry any trident.”

“Not a tangible one,” the Swami muttered. “She has barbs enough.”

“He sees his late wife in all young women,” Amaranth said to Brother Paul. “She had a savage wit. But about me: it was the lot. No one volunteered, so we drew cards from the Tarot, and I was low. As a matter of fact, I was the Empress, Key Three; you were right about that. So they built me a protective box shaped like the throne and appropriately marked—we propitiate the God of Tarot in any little way we can—and I set out to study the Breaker. And watch the amaranth, since the Breaker associates most frequently with this area. He sure keeps the grain-eaters off the field! I keep track of the temperature extremes, rainfall, and such, and measure the growth of the plants. And when an MT shipment comes, I notify the village, although the noise of arrival usually makes that superfluous. Sorry I lost my head yesterday; I had forgotten they were sending a man this time.”

“But the danger—a mere girl—”

The Swami snorted. “Let the Breaker beware!”

“I had some concern myself,” she admitted, again successfully ignoring the jibe. “I wanted to indulge my artistic proclivities, carving pseudo-icons and totems from Tree of Life wood and igneous stone. But that slot was filled by another, so I had to accept assignment elsewhere. When the lot put me in this dangerous and unsuitable position, I rebelled.”

“She is good at that,” the Swami said.

“Which is one reason I remain unmarried,” she continued. “I had a prospect, but he rejected me because of my lack of community spirit. Of course,
he
didn’t have to face the Breaker. Finally I had to come around, because on this planet you contribute or you don’t eat; that’s one of the few things our scattered cults agree on.”

“An excellent policy,” the Swami said.

“But do you know,” she continued without even a poisonous glance at him, “I discovered that there really is a lot more to be known about amaranth than I had thought, as well as about the Breaker. Each plant is a separate individual, proceeding in its own fashion toward the harvest, requiring its own special attention. Sometimes I sneak a little volcanic ash to a plant that is ailing, though I’m not supposed to. There are creatures beneath the plants, insects and even serpents sheltered by the low canopy. That makes me feel right at home.”

“Most girls of Earth do not appreciate snakes, beneficial as these reptiles may be,” Brother Paul observed.

“Most girls of Earth do not worship Abraxas, the serpent-footed God,” she replied. “Actually, the fear of snakes is comparatively recent, historically. In the Bible, the Serpent was the source of wisdom that transformed—”

“Caution,” the Swami said. “Remember the Covenant.”

“Sorry,” she said. “We are not permitted to go into our private beliefs, in the interest of your continuing objectivity. It’s a nuisance. Anyway, I discovered unsurpassed artistry in the mountains and sunsets and storms of this unspoiled planet. Have you noticed how the Tarot Bubbles get blown by the wind? We must have the prettiest storms in this section of the Galaxy! I translated this beauty into the weaving I do in the off-hours.”

“You weave also?” Brother Paul asked.

“Oh, yes, we all weave the Tree of Life fibers, especially in winter, for we must have clothing and blankets against the cold. You haven’t experienced winter until you’ve survived it here! But even in summer I must sit still for long periods, alone, so the weaving and embroidery help distract me. This dress I designed and shaped myself,” she said with pride, taking a breath that made the twin volcanoes threaten to erupt. “It is an accurate contour map of the region as seen from my station.” She shrugged, causing another siege of earthquakes around the mountains. “Of course, I have to be facing the right way. Strictly speaking, I should be lying down with my legs to the north—”

“Shameless!” the Swami hissed.

“Oh, come on, Swami,” she said. “Doesn’t Kundalini link
prana
to the sexual force, just as my God Abraxas does? There should be no shame in drawing a parallel between woman and nature. Woman is nature.”

“I didn’t realize there were two volcanoes,” Brother Paul said, thinking it best to interrupt this debate. He had not believed religion could ever play too great a part in the daily lives of people, but he was developing a doubt. In every personal interaction, here on Planet Tarot, the animosities of religious intolerance were barely veiled.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Actually it is one volcano with twin cones. They normally erupt together. From the village, one cone obscures the other, and often in the mornings the haze conceals both, but from here…” She turned, walking briskly backward so as not to impede their progress toward Northole. “Yes, you can see them both now. Southmount Left and Southmount Right.” She tapped the map appropriately, making momentary indentations in the resilient mounts.

Brother Paul yanked his eyes away from the indents and looked back. Sure enough, now two cones were apparent, and they did resemble those of the contour map: full and rounded, rather than truly conical. “Where is the mountain garden?” he inquired.

“Here in the cleft,” she said, indicating a spot on the map between the cones. “The village access comes up on the east slope, here.” She traced a course up the right side. “It’s steep, but most direct.” It certainly was! “Now we’re about here—” She touched the general region of her navel. “Heading for the—”

“Enough!” the Swami cried.

“Northole,” she concluded. “The passion pit.”

“You are an accursed slut!” the Swami said. His face was red. Whatever control he exerted over his intellectual and spiritual powers did not seem to extend to his emotions. This was a deeply divided man, with sizable unresolved conflicts.

“Nothing wrong with me that a good man can’t cure,” Amaranth said blithely. Well, the Swami had started this engagement; now she was finishing it.

“You never explained about the Breaker,” Brother Paul reminded her.

“Um, yes. When I studied the Breaker, I came to realize that this was the most interesting phenomenon of all. I was afraid of it at first, and I really barricaded my throne as a fortress, but after a while it got used to me. Little by little I won its respect, taming it, and now it will not attack me because it knows me.
He
knows me; I think of the Breaker as male.”

“You would,” the Swami muttered.

“We are friends, in our fashion,” she continued. “I am closer to success than others suspect. The Breaker will come when I whistle, and I can touch him. I think he might fight for me if I were threatened. That may have been why he went after you; he thought you were chasing me.”

“I was,” Brother Paul said.

“I certainly would not want to see him killed. I do think that in time I will be able to harness his power for our benefit. It is a tremendous project, and I’m glad now that the lot fell to me. I’m sorry you drove the Breaker away.”

“I was ignorant of—”

“Oh, no blame attaches to you, sir! You had to defend yourself, and you did that without actually hurting the Breaker. He will return in a day or so. Meanwhile, you can show me how you did it.”

“I utilized the principles of judo,” Brother Paul began, but caught the warning glance of the Swami. Yes, probably it was better not to mention the matter of
ki
or aura, yet.
“Sieroku zenyo
, maximum efficiency—”

She stopped. “Pretend I’m the Breaker, charging you. How do you react?”

Déjà vu!
“It would require physical contact to demonstrate, and I have already been through this with the Swami. I’m not sure—”

“The vamp means to seduce you!” the Swami expostulated.

Brother Paul was not at all certain this was an empty warning. A forward woman who spoke appreciatively of serpents and sexual knowledge and showed off her breasts in so obvious a fashion… “Perhaps another time,” he said. “I gather, then, that you do not feel that your assignment was a mistake.” She had already said as much, but he was somewhat at a loss for suitable responses.

“It has been a revelation,” she said sincerely, resuming her forward progress. She adapted to circumstances readily, whether physical or conversational. An intriguing woman to know! “The lot chose my career better than I ever could have. I believe it was the will of Abraxas.”

“A heathen demon!” the Swami muttered.

“Observe the intemperate yogi,” she said. “Other Indian-derived religions are supremely tolerant, but he—”

“Perhaps it was the God of Tarot who guided the lot,” Brother Paul said. “Whichever god that may be.” Then, before the hostilities could resume: “I see people ahead. Swami, it may be time for you to tell me of the danger, before we are interrupted.”

To his half-surprise, the Swami agreed. “The danger is this: the Animation effect is a manifestation of the fundamental power of Kundalini—the spirit force. Evoked without proper comprehension or controls, this is like conjuring Satan, like giving blocks of fissionable material to a child for play.”

“Oh, pooh!” Amaranth exclaimed. “Magic like this has been known and practiced and venerated for thousands of years. The only question is, whose god is responsible? You’re just afraid it won’t turn out to be
your
god.”

“Correct,” the Swami agreed. “I worship no god; I seek only the ultimate enlightenment. This Animation is not a force of God at all, but a manifestation of uncontrolled Kundalini. In human history, Kundalini gone astray has been the cause of the evil geniuses of men like Attila the Hun and Adolph Hitler the Nazi. If you, Brother Paul of the Holy Order of Vision, evoke it now—and it is my fear that this capacity does indeed lie within you, the capacity to loose the full genie from the bottle, rather than the mere fragments of it we have hitherto seen—you may give form to a concentration of power that will destroy us all, that will exterminate the entire human colony of Planet Tarot.”

“An imaginary beast!” Amaranth scoffed.

But Brother Paul was not so skeptical. The Swami had shown him some of the reasons for his concern, and they were impressive. What could the power of
ki
do, if it were to run amok? If this really were related to Animation… “I have seen some of the Animations, touched the forms myself,” he said. “There is something here beyond our present comprehension. I know that other people have died exploring this mystery. Yet I am here to fathom it if I can; I believe my best course lies not in avoiding Animation, but in studying it with extreme caution and whatever safeguards are feasible. Knowledge is our most formidable weapon, especially against the unknown.”

“I expected that response, and respect it,” the Swami said. “My purpose is only to make certain you appreciate the possible magnitude of the threat. I can do no more. Nor would I, under the Covenant.”