Dancers - A Messiah At The End Of Time Part 7

The Commissar of Bengal pa.s.sed a hand over the gleaming corkscrew curls of his blue-black beard, he tugged at the red Star of India decorating his left earlobe; he fingered a feather of his turban.

'Follow you? By Allah, sir, I'm confounded! Follow you? Not a word, I fear. Not a syllable."

'That is not what I meant."

'I think," interposed Doctor Volospion, "that our visitor regards himself as a prophet a chosen spokesman for some religion or other. The phrase he uses is more than familiar to me. Doubtless he wishes to convert us to the worship of his G.o.d."

'G.o.d? G.o.d! G.o.d! I am no servant of a Higher Power!" The visitor's neck flashed back in shock. "Unless, as can fairly be said, I serve myself and Mankind, of course..."

Doctor Volospion casually changed the color of his robes to dark green and silver, then to crimson and black. He sighed. He became all black.

The visitor watched this process with some contempt. "What have we here? A jester to my clown?"

Doctor Volospion glanced up. "Forgive me if I seem unmannerly. I was seeking an appropriate color for my mood."

Abu Thaleb was dogged. "Sir, if you could introduce yourself, perhaps a little more formally...?"

The stranger regarded him through a milder eye, as if giving the commissar's remark weighty consideration.

'A name? Just one," coaxed the Lord of All Elephants. "It might jog our memories, d'you see."

'I am your Messiah."

'There!" cried Doctor Volospion, pleased with his earlier interpretation.

The Messiah raised inflexible arms toward the skies. "I am the Prophet of the Sun! Flamebringer, call me!"

Still more animated, even amused, Doctor Volospion turned his attention away from his cuffs (now of purple lace) to remark: "The name is not familiar, sir. Where are you from?"

'Earth! I am from Earth!" The prophet gripped the lapels of his velvet coat. "You must know me. I have given you every hint."

'But when did you leave Earth?" Abu Thaleb put in, intending help. "Perhaps we are further in your future than you realize. This planet, you see, is millions, billions, of years old. Why, there is every evidence that it would have perished a long time ago so far as supporting human life was concerned, at any rate if we had not, with the aid of our great old cities, maintained it. You could be from a past so distant that no memory remains of you. The cities, of course, do remember a great deal, and it is possible that one of them might know you. Or there are time travelers here, like Miss Ming, with better memories of earlier times than even the cities possess. What I am trying to say, sir, is that we are not being deliberately obtuse. We should be only too willing to show you proper respect if we knew who you were and how we should show it. It is on you, the onus, I regret."

The head jerked from side to side; a curious c.o.c.katoo. "Eh?"

'Name, rank and serial number!" Miss Ming guffawed.

'Eh?"

'We are an ancient and ignorant people," Abu Thaleb apologized. "Well, at least, I speak for myself. I am very ancient and extremely ignorant. Except, I should explain, in the matter of elephants, where I am something of an expert."

'Elephants?"

The stranger's blue eyes glittered. "So this is what you have become? Dilettantes! Fops! Dandies! Cynics! Quasi-realists!"

'We have become all things at the End of Time," said Doctor Volospion. "Variety flourishes, if originality does not."

'Pah! I call you lifeless bones. But fear not. I am returned to resurrect you. I am Power. I am the forgotten Spirit of Mankind. I am Possibility."

'Quite so," said Doctor Volospion agreeably. "But I think, sir, that you underestimate the degree of our sophistication."

'We have really considered the matter quite closely, some of us," Abu Thaleb wished the stranger to know. "We are definitely, it seems, doomed."

'Not now! Not now!" The little man jerked his hand and fire began to roar upon Argonheart Po's cola lake. It was a bright, unlikely red. There was heat.

'Delightful," murmured Doctor Volospion. "But if I may demonstrate..." He turned a sapphire ring on his right finger. Pale-blue clouds formed over the lake. A light rain fell. The fire guttered. It died. "You will see," added Doctor Volospion quickly, noting the stranger's expression, "that we enjoy a certain amount of control over the elements." He turned another ring. The fire returned.

'I am not here to match conjuring tricks with you, my jackal eyed friend!" The stranger gestured and a halo of bright flame appeared around his head. He swept his arms about and black clouds filled the sky once more and thunder boomed again; lightning crashed. "I used my mastery merely to demonstrate my moral purpose."

Doctor Volospion raised a delighted hand to his mouth. "I did not realize..."

'Well, you shall! You shall know me! I shall awaken the memory dreaming in the forgotten places of your minds. Then, how gladly you will welcome me. For I am Salvation." He struck a pose and his high, musical voice very nearly sang his next speech: 'Oh, call me Satan, for I am cast down from Heaven! The teeming worlds of the multiverse have been my domicile till now; but here I am, come back to you, at long last. You do not know me now but you shall know me soon. I am He for whom you have been waiting. I am the Sun Eagle. Ah, now shall this old world blossom with my fire. For I shall be triumphant, the terrible, intolerant Master of your Globe."

He paused only for a second to review his audience, his head on one side. Then he filled his lungs and continued with his litany: 'This is my birthright, my duty, my desire. I claim the World. I claim all its denizens as my subjects. I shall instruct you in the glories of the Spirit. You sleep now. You have forgotten how to fly on the wfld winds that blow from Heaven and from h.e.l.l, for now you cower beneath a mere breeze that is the cold Wind of Limbo. It flattens you, deadens you, and you abase yourselves pa.s.sively before it, because you know no other wind." His hands settled upon his hips. "But I am the wind. I am the air and the fire to resurrect your Spirit. You two, you bewildered men, shall be my first disciples. And you, woman, shall be my glorious consort."

Mavis Ming gave a little shudder and confided to Abu Thaleb: "I couldn't think of anything worse. What a bombastic little idiot. Isn't one of you going to put him in his place?"

'Oh, he is entertaining, you know," said Abu Thaleb tolerantly.

'Charming," agreed Doctor Volospion. "You should be flattered, Miss Ming."

'What? Because he hasn't seen another woman in a thousand years?"

Doctor Volospion smiled. "You do yourself discredit."

The stranger did not seem upset by the lack of immediate effect he had had on them. He turned grave, intense eyes upon her. Mavis Ming might have blushed.

He spoke with thrilling authority, for all his pre-p.u.b.escent pitch: 'Beautiful and proud you may be, woman, yet you shall bend to me when the time comes. You shall not then react with callow cynicism."

'I think you've got rather old-fashioned ideas about women, my friend," said Miss Ming staunchly.

'Your true soul is buried now. But I shall reveal it to you."

The sky began to clear. A flock of transparent pteranodons safled unsteadily overhead, fleeing the sun. Miss Ming pretended an interest in the flying creatures. But it was plain that the stranger had her attention.

'I am Life," he said, "and you are Death."

'Well..." she began, offended.

He explained: "At this moment everything is Death that is not me."

'I'm beginning to pity you," said Mavis Ming in an artificial voice. "It's obvious that you've been so long in s.p.a.ce, whatever your name is, that you've gone completely mad!" She made nervous tuggings and pullings at her costume. "And if you're trying to scare me, or turn my stomach, or make fun of me, I can a.s.sure you that I've dealt with much tougher customers than you in my time. All right?"

'So," he said, in tones meant only for her, "your mind resists me. Your training resists me. Your mother and your father and your society resist me. Perhaps even your body resists me. But your soul does not. Your soul listens. Your soul pines for me. How many years have you refused to listen to its promptings? How many years of discomfort, of sorrow, of depravity and degradation? How many nights have you battled against your dreams and your true desires? Soon you shall kneel before me and know your own power, your own strength."

Miss Ming took a deep breath. She looked to Doctor Volospion for help, but his expression was bland, mildly curious. Abu Thaleb seemed only embarra.s.sed.

'Listen, you," she said, "where I come from women have had the vote for 150 years. They've had equal rights for almost 100. There are probably more women in administrative jobs than there are men and more than 50 percent of all leading politicians are women, and when I left we hadn't had a big war for ten years, and we know all about dictators, s.e.xual chauvinists and old-fashioned seducers. I did a History of s.e.xism course as part of my postgraduate studies, so I know what I'm talking about."

He listened attentively enough to all this before replying. "You speak of Rights and Precedents, woman. You refer to Choice and Education. But what if these are the very chains which enslave the spirit? I offer you neither security nor responsibility save the security of knowing your own ident.i.ty and the responsibility of maintaining it. I offer you Dignity."

Miss Ming opened her mouth.

'I note that you are a Romantic, sir," said Doctor Volospion with some relish.

The stranger no longer seemed aware of his presence, but continued to stare at Mavis Ming who frowned and cast about in her troubled skull for appropriate defense. She failed and instead sought the aid of her protector.

'Can we go now?" she whisepred to Doctor Volospion. "He might do something dangerous."

Doctor Volospion lowered his voice only a trifle. "If my reading of our friend's character is correct, he shares a preference with all those of his type for words and dramatic but unspecific actions. I find him quite stimulating. You know my interests..."

'Do not reject my gifts, woman," warned the stranger. "Others have offered you Liberty (if that is what it is) but I offer you nothing less than yourself your whole self."

Miss Ming tried to bridle and, unsuccessful, turned away. "Really, Doctor Volospion," she began urgently, "I've had enough..."

Abu Thaleb attempted intercession. "Sir, we have few established customs, though we have enjoyed and continue to enjoy many fashions in manners, but it would seem to me that, since you are a guest in our Age..."

'Guest!" The little man was astonished. "I am not your guest, sir, I am your Savior."

'Be that as it may..."

'There is no more to be said. There is no question of my calling!"

'Be that as it may, you are disturbing this lady, who is not of our time and is therefore perhaps more sensitive to your remarks than if she were, um, indigenous to the Age. I think 'stress' is the word I seek, though I am not too certain of how 'stress' manifests itself. Miss Ming?" He begged for illumination.

'He's a pain in the neck, if that's what you mean," said Miss Ming boldly. "But you get used to that here." She drew herself up.

'As a gentleman, sir-," continued Abu Thaleb.

'Gentleman? I have never claimed to be a 'gentleman.' Unless by that you mean I am a man a throbbing, ardent, lover of women of one woman, now of that woman!" His quivering finger pointed.

Miss Ming turned her back full on him and clambered into Abu Thaleb's howdah. She sat, stiff-necked, upon the cushions, her arms folded in front of her.

The stranger smiled almost tenderly. "Ah, she is so beautiful. So feminine. Ah!"

'Doctor Volospion." Miss Ming's voice was flat and cold. "I should like to go home now."

Doctor Volospion laughed.

'Nonsense, my dear Miss Ming." He bowed a fraction to the stranger, as if to apologize. "It has been an eternity since we entertained such a glorious guest. I am eager to hear his views. You know my interest in ancient religions my collection, my menagerie, my investigations well, here we have a genuine prophet." A deeper bow to the stranger. "A preacher who shows Li Pao up for the parsimonious hair-splitter that he is. If we are to be berated for our sins, then let it be full-bloodedly, with threats of fire and brimstone!".

'I said nothing of brimstone," said the stranger.

'Forgive me."

Miss Ming leaned from the howdah to put her lips to Doctor Volospion's ear. "You think he's genuine, then?"

He stroked his chin. "Your meaning is misty, Miss Ming."

'Oh, I give up," she said. "It's all right for everybody else, but that madman's more or less announced his firm decision to rape me at the earliest opportunity."

'Nonsense," objected Doctor Volospion. "He has been nothing but chivalrous."

'It would be like being raped by a pigeon," she added. She withdrew into herself.

Doctor Volospion's last glance in her direction was calculating but when he next addressed the stranger he was all hospitality. 'Your own introduction, sir, has been perhaps a mite vague. May I be more specific in my presentation myself and my friends. This lovely lady, whose beauty has understandably made such an impression upon you, is Miss Mavis Ming. This gentleman is Abu Thaleb, Commissar of Bengal-,"

'-and Lord of All Elephants," modestly appended the commissar.

'-while I, your humble servant, am called Doctor Volospion. I think we share similar tastes, for I have long studied the religions and the faiths of the past and judge myself something of a connoisseur of Belief. You would be interested, I think, in my collection, and I would greatly value your inspection of it for, in truth, there are few fellow spirits in this world-weary Age of ours."

The stranger's red lips formed a haughty smile. "I am no theologian, Doctor Volospion. At least, only in the sense that I am, of course, All Things..."

"Of course, of course, but-,"

"And I see you for a trickster, a poseur."

"I a.s.sure you-,"

'I know you for a poor ghost of a creature, seeking in bad casuistry, to give a dead mind some semblance of life. You are cold, sir, and the cruelties by means of which you attempt to warm your own blood are pretty things, the products of a n.i.g.g.ardly imagination and some small, but ill-trained, intelligence. Only the generous can be truly cruel for they know also what it is to be truly charitable."

'You object to casuistry, and yet you do not disdain the use of empty paradox, I note." Doctor Volospion remained, so it appeared, in good humor. "I am sure, sir, when we are better acquainted, you will not be so wary of me."

'Wary? I should be wary? Ha! If that is how you would misrepresent my nature, to comfort yourself, then I give you full permission. But know this in giving that permission I am allowing you to remain in the grave when it might have been that you could have known true life again."

'I am impressed..."

'No more! I am your Master, whether you acknowledge it or no, whether I care or no, and that is unquestionable. I'll waste no more energy in debate with you, manikin."

'Manikin!" Miss Ming snorted. "That's a good one."

Doctor Volospion put a finger on his lips. "Please, Miss Ming. I would continue this conversation."

'After he's insulted you-,"

'He speaks his mind, that is all. He does not know our preferences for euphemism and ornament, and so-,"

'Exactly," said Abu Thaleb, relieve'd. "He will come to understand our ways soon."

'Be certain," fluted the stranger, "that it is you who will come to understand my ways. I have no respect for customs, manners, fashions, for I am Bloom the Eternal. I am Bloom, who has experienced All. I am Emmanuel Bloom, whom Time cannot touch, whom s.p.a.ce cannot suppress!"

'A name at last," said Doctor Volospion in apparent delight. "We greet you, Mr. Bloom."

'That's funny," said Miss Ming, "You don't look Jewish."