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Authors: Robert Silverberg

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fantasy

Tower of Glass (25 page)

BOOK: Tower of Glass
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“I love you,” she said softly.

Watchman hesitated. A response was required here. His silence, expanding into the succeeding seconds, threatened to choke the universe. How could he not reply? It was inhuman to remain silent. He touched her warm flesh. He felt untuned, unstrung.

Finally he said, quickly, getting it over with, “I love you, Lilith.”

 

 

 

 

30

 

 

You may ask, Who was the Maker of the Children of the Womb? Who, indeed, was the Maker of Krug?

And I say to you that these are wise questions, that these questions are properly asked.

For you must understand that in the world there are cycles of all things, a cycle of the Womb and a cycle of the Vat, and the one precedes the other, so that it was necessary first for there to be the Womb-born in order that there might be the Vat-born.

And Krug the man was of the Womb-born, from whom sprang the Children of the Vat.

Yet Krug the man is merely one aspect of Krug the Creator, whose existence precedes all things and whose Will has shaped all things, and who brought forth the Children of the Womb as forerunners of the Children of the Vat. Therefore must you distinguish between the man Krug, who is mortal and was himself born of the Womb, and the Maker Krug, whose Plan all things follow; for if it was Krug the man who brought forth the Children of the Vat, nevertheless he did so by the design of Krug the Maker, from whom all blessings flow, to whom all praise be given.

 

 

 

 

31

 

 

I said to Lilith, You promised to tell me. Why those gammas were using my father’s name. The peace of Krug. Go with Krug. Krug be with you. You never said.

I will.

When?

You’ll have to dress up as an alpha again. It isn’t something I can tell as easily as I can show.

Do we have to go back to Gamma Town?

No, she said, not this time. We can drop in on the betas this time. I wouldn’t take you to the Valhallavagen chapel, because—

Where?

Valhallavagen chapel. Near here. It’s where most of the local alphas worship. You couldn’t fool them, Manuel. But you could fool betas, I think. If you kept quiet and looked dignified.

A chapel. Worship. So it’s a religion?

Yes.

What’s it called? Krugolatry?

It doesn’t have a name. We talk of it just as the communion. It’s very important to us, Manuel. I think it’s the most important thing in our lives.

Do you want to describe—

Later. Take your clothes off and I’ll spray your skin. We can go right now.

Will it take long?

An hour, she said. You’ll be back home on time, don’t worry. If that’s what’s worrying you.

I have to be fair to Clissa, I said. She gives me freedom. I don’t want to abuse it.

All right. All right.

I took off my clothes. Once again Lilith disguised me as Alpha Leviticus Leaper. She had kept the clothes around from the other time; it surprised me that she hadn’t given them back to Thor Watchman. As though she knew we’d be playing this masquerade again.

She said, Before we go, there are some things you have to know. The first is that it’s absolutely forbidden for any human to enter a chapel. It’s like non-Moslems going to Mecca. For all I know, you may be the first Womb-born who ever went in.

The first what?

Womb-born. You’re a Child of the Womb. We’re Children of the Vat. Yes?

Oh. Oh. If it’s a sacrilege to smuggle me into a chapel, why are you doing it? Don’t you take the rules seriously?

Very seriously.

Then why?

Because I feel I can make an exception for you, Manuel. You’re different. I told you that once, remember? You don’t put androids in some special sub-class of humanity. I think that inwardly you’ve been on our side all along, even without being conscious of it. And so it wouldn’t be sacrilege to let you understand our religion a little.

Well, maybe.

And also you’re Krug’s son.

What does that have to do with it?

You’ll see, she said.

I was flattered. Fascinated. Excited. A little frightened. Am I really that simpatico to android aspirations? Can I be trusted? Why is she breaking the commandment? What is she trying to get from me? Unworthy thought. Unworthy thought. She is doing it because she loves me. Wants to share with me. Her world.

She said, Anyway, keep in mind that it would be very serious if you were found out Therefore pretend that you belong in there, and don’t act nervous or uncertain of yourself. You were fine in Gamma Town. Be that way here.

But aren’t there certain rites I ought to be familiar with? Genuflections or something?

I’m coming to that, Lilith said. You’ll need a couple of gestures. One of them you already know. Like this.

Left hand to crotch, breast, forehead, one two three.

She said, That’s the sign of Krug-be-praised. It’s an act of homage. You make the sign when you first enter the chapel and when you start to join the prayer, silently or aloud. It’s also good to make the sign whenever the name of Krug is mentioned. In fact the Krug-be-praised sign is appropriate in almost any part of the service, or whenever two androids of the communion meet outside a chapel. Let’s see you make it. Go on.

One two three. Krug be praised.

Faster. One-two-three.

One-two-three.

Good. Good. Now, here’s another important sign. Its meaning is Krug-preserve-us, and it’s specifically a prayer used in time of tension or doubt. Like saying God help us. You’ll use it whenever the text of the service calls for Krug to have mercy on us, Krug to aid us in any way. Whenever we’re
imploring
Krug.

Krug is really your god, I said, wondering.

This is the sign. She showed me how to make it. Cup one hand over each breast; then turn the palms outward. An act of contrition: see my soul, Krug! My heart is bare to you. She made the sign several times, and I followed her.

One more, Lilith said. The sign of submission to the Will of Krug. You’ll make it only once, when you first get into line of sight with the altar. Like this. Drop to one knee and reach your arms forward, palms turned up.

Does it matter which knee?

Either one. Do it.

I made the sign of submission to the Will of Krug. I was glad to learn it. Somehow I felt that I’d been submitting to the Will of Krug all my life, without even knowing it.

Lilith said, Let’s make sure you have it all clear, now. When you enter the chapel, what?

One-two-three. Krug-be-praised.

Good. Then?

When I can see the altar, I do the submission to the Will. Down on one knee, hands out, palms up.

Yes. And?

When favors are asked of Krug, I do Krug-preserve-us. Hands to breasts, turn hands out. I also do Krug-be-praised from time to time when the name of Krug is mentioned.

Fine. Fine. You won’t have any trouble, Manuel.

There’s another gesture I saw you make in Gamma Town, I said.

Show me.

I held my hands up with the palms facing each other about half a meter apart, and wiggled my hips and flexed my knees, making a kind of spiral.

You did it in Gamma Town, I said, when the mob was getting a little wild.

Lilith laughed. It’s called the Blessing of the Vat, she said. It’s a sign of peace and a sign of departure. We do it over a dead person in the final prayer, and we do it when we’re saying goodbye to one another in a tense situation. It’s one of the holiest signs. And you didn’t do it very well. You see, it’s based on the double helix of the nucleic acid molecule— genetics, yes?—the way the molecules are coiled. We try to duplicate it with our bodies. This way.

She did it. I imitated. She laughed.

I said, I’m sorry. My body just doesn’t bend that way.

It takes practice. You won’t have to do it, though. Stick with Krug-be-praised and Krug-preserve-us and you’ll be fine. Let’s go, now.

She took me to a shabby part of town in what I think once was a commercial section. It didn’t have the nightmare gaudiness of Gamma Town or the stately well-worn look of the part where the alphas live. Just shabby.

Chapel’s over there, she said.

I saw a storefront, windows opaqued. Couple of betas standing out front doing nothing particular. We started to cross the street. I got shaky. What if they find me out? What will they do? To me? To Lilith?

I am Alpha Leviticus Leaper.

The betas stepped aside, making Krug-be-praised, as we came up to them. Eyes lowered, air of respect. The social distances. Lilith would have had a much harder time if I didn’t have an alpha’s long lean build. My confidence rose. I even made Krug-be-praised at one of the betas.

We entered the chapel.

A large circular room. No seats. Carpet of thick soft pseudolife, obviously much knelt-upon in its time. Subdued lighting. I remembered to make Krug-be-praised as I walked in. One-two-three.

A little vestibule. Two steps beyond it I got my first view of the altar. Lilith down on one knee, submission to the Will. I almost didn’t need to kneel. I almost fell, amazed.

The altar: a large square mass of what looked like living flesh, sitting in an ornate plastic tub. Purple fluid in the tub, swirling around and occasionally over this block of pink meat, which is at least a meter high and maybe three meters by two long, wide.

Behind the altar: my father in hologram. A perfect likeness. Full-size replica, looking at us face-on, stern expression, eyes fiery, lips clamped. Not exactly a god of love. Strong. Man of steel. Because it’s a hologram, the eyes follow you; wherever you are in the chapel you’re under the gaze of Krug.

I drop down. I lift the hands. Palms up.

Submission to the Will of Krug!

It stuns me. Even though I knew before, I still am stunned. Is it like this all over the world, I ask? Androids salaaming to my father? Barely audible whisper. Yes, she says. Yes. We pay homage. Krug be praised.

This man whom I have known all my life. This builder of towers, this inventor of androids. A god? I almost laugh. Am I Son of God? I don’t fit the role. Obviously no one worships me here. I am an afterthought; I am outside theology.

We get to our feet. With a tiny gesture of her head Lilith leads me to a place in the back of the chapel, and we kneel. In the darkness I feel comforted. There are perhaps ten, twelve androids in the chapel, all betas except for one male alpha who kneels right before the altar, back to us. I feel less conspicuous with the alpha there. A few more betas come in, making the appropriate gestures. No one pays any attention to us. The social distances.

Everybody seems deep in private prayer.

Is this the service, Lilith?

Not yet. We’re a little early. You’ll see.

The eyes of Krug drill into me. He almost does look godlike up there. I glare back at him. What would he say if he knew? He’d laugh. He’d pound his desk. He’d belch with joy. Krug the god! Jehovah Krug! Simeon Allah! By Christ, that’s a good one! Why in hell shouldn’t they worship me? I made them, no?

As my eyes grow accustomed to the dimness I examine the pattern on the wall more carefully. It is not, as I first suspected, a purely abstract ornamental design. No: I now see the letters of the alphabet repeated over and over and over, covering every centimeter of wall space. Not all the letters. I run from line to line and see only A, U, G, and C in various combinations, like:

AUA AUG AUC AUU GAA GAG GAC GAU GGA GGG GGC GGU

GCA GCG GCC GGU GUA GUG GUC GUU CAA CAG CAC CAU

So on and so on. What is it, Lilith? The design.

The genetic code, she says. The RNA triplets.

Oh. Yes. Suddenly I remember in Gamma Town, the girl slobie addict calling out letters, GAAGAGGAC. I can see them on the wall now. A prayer?

The sacred language. Like Latin was for Catholics.

I see.

But I don’t really see. I just accept.

I say, And what is the altar made of?

Flesh. Synthetic flesh.

Live?

Of course. Straight from the vat, like me or you. Pardon, not like you. Like me. Just a lump of live android flesh.

What keeps it alive? It’s got no organs or anything.

It gets nutrients from the tank. And injections of something from underneath. But it lives. It grows. It has to be trimmed from time to time. It symbolizes our origin. Not yours. Ours. There’s one in every chapel. Smuggled out of the factory.

Like the rejects.

Like the rejects, yes.

And I thought security arrangements were so tight at the android plants, I say.

Lilith winks at me. I begin to feel like a member of the conspiracy.

BOOK: Tower of Glass
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