Part 6 (2/2)
”You exposed our guest to Bigfoot?” the guard at the door muttered to Reverend Siltz, holding his trident ready against the storm.
The Communist did not answer, but pushed on in. Brother Paul followed.
”Actually, I'd like to meet Bigfoot,” he said to the guard. ”It was the lightning that scared me.” But the man did not smile.
Other people were in the building, going about their a.s.sorted businesses, but there were no hearty welcomes. Reverend Siltz ignored all except those wearing the hammer-and-sickle emblem of his Church. Nevertheless, he guided Brother Paul to a table where several men of differing denominations sat. Or so Brother Paul a.s.sumed from the fact that the emblems on their clothing were dissimilar.
”It is necessary that you a.s.sure these people I have not tried to compromise your objectivity,” the Reverend grumbled. ”I shall fetch soup.”
Brother Paul seated himself and looked around. ”I so a.s.sure you,” he said with a smile. ”I embarra.s.sed him with a number of questions that forced him to invoke the Covenant, but he withstood the onslaught. I am wet but uncompromised.”
The man across from Brother Paul nodded affably. He was middle-aged and bald, with smile-lines in lieu of Reverend Siltz's frown-lines, and bright blue eyes.
”I am Deacon Brown, Church of Lemuria. We are sure you remain objective. You must forgive your host his taciturnity; he is suffering under a difficult family situation.”
”I have no complaints,” Brother Paul said carefully. ”I am not sure I can say the same about your Covenant, but the Reverend Siltz has treated me cordially enough. I fear I kept him so busy answering my routine questions that we left his dwelling late, and so got caught in the storm. I do tend to talk too much.”
That should absolve the Reverend on that score. Brother Paul was tempted to inquire about this multi-sected society, but decided to wait. He already knew the colonists were not supposed to enlighten him on this matter informally, lest they be accused of proselytization. These men had clearly ignored his hints about this inconvenience.
”You see, his son is serious about a young woman of the Church of Scientology,”
Deacon Brown continued. ”The two young people worked together this spring on a tree-harvest mission, and the Cup overflowed.”
No doubt about the Tarot reference this time! Cups were not only the suit of water; they signified religion-and love. A difficult juxtaposition here, it seemed. ”You do not permit marriage between churches?”
”It is permitted by some sects, and forbidden by others. You must understand, Brother Paul, that we are a jealous community.” Reverend Siltz had used a similar expression; there was no doubt it was true! ”We came here as individual sects to further the purity and freedom of our own selective modes of wors.h.i.+p, and it is to our displeasure and inconvenience that we find ourselves required to interact so intimately with false believers. We find it difficult to agree on anything other than the sheer need for survival-and not always on that.”
Even so! ”Yes, but surely religion should not oppose common sense. I doubt that you have enough members of each sect in this village to be able to propagate freely within your own churches. There must be some reasonable compromise.”
”There is some,” Deacon Brown agreed. ”But not enough. We understand Reverend Siltz's position; none of us would wish our children to marry Scientologists, or Baha'is, or any other heathen offspring. My daughter does not keep company with the son of Minister Malcolm, here, of the Nation of Islam.” The adjacent man smiled affirmatively, the whiteness of his teeth vivid against the brownness of his skin. ”Yet the Cup is powerful, and there will be serious trouble unless we can soon determine the true nature of the G.o.d of the Tree.”
”So I have been advised.” Brother Paul was now aware of the reason for the tense relations between individuals, but it seemed to him to be a foolish and obstinate situation. With savage storms and Bigfoot and similar frontier-world problems, they did not need pointless religious dissension too. It was certainly possible for widely differing sects to get along together, as the experience of the Holy Order of Vision showed. To Brother Paul, a religion that was intolerant of other religions was by its own admission deficient. Jesus Christ had preached tolerance for all men, after all. Well, perhaps not for moneylenders in the temple, and such. Still...
Reverend Siltz returned with two br.i.m.m.i.n.g wooden bowls. He set one before Brother Paul, then seated himself on the wooden bench. There was a wooden spoon in each bowl, crude but serviceable. There must be quite a handicrafts industry here, fas.h.i.+oning these utensils. This was certainly in accord with the principles of the Order; wooden tableware did make sense.
Brother Paul and Reverend Siltz fell to. There was no blessing of the food; probably the several sects could not agree on the specific format, so had agreed by their Covenant to omit this formality. The soup was unfamiliar but rich; it had a pithy substantiality, like potato soup, with an unearthly flavor. If I may inquire-” he started.
”Wood soup,” Deacon Brown said immediately. ”The Tree of Life nourishes us all, but it yields its sustenance more freely when boiled. We also eat of the fruit, but this is as yet early in the season and it is not ready.”
Wood soup. Well, why not? This secondary wors.h.i.+p of the Tree was becoming more understandable. Perhaps it would be best if the G.o.d of Tarot did turn out to be one with the local Tree. If it were simply a matter of interpretation-but he would have to wait and see, not prejudicing his own mind.
Brother Paul finished his bowl. It had proved to be quite filling. Reverend Siltz immediately took it away. Apparently the Reverend wanted to be quite certain the others were satisfied with the visitor's equilibrium, so left him alone at any pretext. Another indication of the strained relations here.
”If I may inquire without giving offense,” Brother Paul began, aware that offense was probably unavoidable if he were to proceed with his mission.
”You are not of our colony,” Deacon Brown said. ”You do not know our conventions. I shall give them to you succinctly: speak no religion. In other matters, speak freely; we shall make allowances.”
Hm. He would be unable to honor that strictly, since his purpose here was thoroughly religious. But all in good time. ”Thank you. I notice you employ a certain seeming symbolism that resembles that of the Tarot deck. Cups, for example. The Tarot equivalent of the suit of Hearts. Is this intentional?”
Everyone at the table smiled. ”Of course,” the deacon agreed. ”Every sect here has its own Tarot deck, or variant deck. This is part of our communal respect for the Tree of Life. We do not feel that it conflicts with our respective faiths; rather it augments them, and offers one of the few common bonds available to us.”
Brother Paul nodded. ”It would seem that the concept of the Tarot was always a.s.sociated with this planet, with visions drawn from the cards-”
”Not visions,” the deacon corrected him. ”Animations. They are tangible, sometimes dangerous manifestations.”
”Yet not physical ones,” Brother Paul said, expecting to clarify what Reverend Siltz had claimed.
”Indeed, physical! That is why we require that you be protected when you investigate. Did the Communist not inform you?”
”He did, but I remain skeptical. I really don't see how-”
The deacon brought out a pack of cards. ”Allow me to demonstrate, if there is no protest from these, my companions of other faiths.” He glanced around the table, but no one protested. ”We are in storm at the moment; it should be possible to-”
He selected a card and concentrated.
Brother Paul watched dubiously. If the man expected to form something physical from the air...
A shape appeared on the table, forming as from cloud, fuzzy but strengthening.
It was a pencil, or chopstick- ”The Ace of Wands!” Brother Paul exclaimed.
Deacon Brown did not reply; he was concentrating on his image. Reverend Siltz had quietly returned, however, and he picked up the commentary. ”Now you evidently believe the Lemurian has made a form without substance, a mirror-reflection from the card he perceives. But you shall see.”
Siltz reached out and grasped the small rod between his thumb and forefinger.
His hand did not pa.s.s through it, as would have been the case with a mere image; the wand moved exactly as a real one might. ”Now I touch you with this staff,”
Siltz said. He poked the end at the back of Brother Paul's hand.
It was solid. Brother Paul felt the pressure, and then a burning sensation. He jerked his hand away. ”It's hot!”
As he spoke, the wand burst into flame at the end, like a struck match. Siltz dropped it on the table, where it continued to flare. ”Fire-the reality behind the symbol, the power of nature,” he said. ”Someone, if you please-water.”
The representative of the Nation of Islam dealt a card from his own deck. He concentrated. Two ornate golden cups formed. Deacon Brown grabbed one and poured its contents over the burning stick. There was a hiss, and a puff of vapor went up.
Were they trying to fool him with magic tricks? Brother Paul knew something of sleight-of-hand; his own fingers were uncommonly dexterous. ”May I?” he inquired, reaching toward the remaining cup.
To his surprise, no one objected. He touched the cup, and found it solid. He lifted it, and it was heavy. Extremely heavy; only pure gold could be as dense as this! He dipped one finger into its fluid, then touched that finger to his tongue. Water, surely! He sprinkled some on his burn, and it seemed to help.
This was a solid, tangible, physical, believable cup, and physical water. Water, the reality behind the symbol, again, the female complement to the male fire.
The Tarot made literal.
”Ma.s.s hypnosis?” Brother Paul inquired musingly. ”Do all of you see and feel these things?”
”We all do,” Reverend Siltz a.s.sured him.
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