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descent . . . gracefully yet somehow commanding. Its form was white above and orange beneath, the
colors of the purest sky and the brightest flames. Rakki had a sudden feeling of a presence approaching
that represented a power so absolute and assured that demonstrations of violence would be unbecoming,
a power without need to prove itself. He let the hand that was holding his rifle fall to his side and stood
passively, accepting and unresisting to whatever fate should be decided.
This was surely an emissary from the true realm of the gods. Sleek like the swiftest of birds, yet of
smooth and rounded curves, adorned by twin tails of pure black, it came to rest not two tens of paces
away from him, while the people fell back to clear the space. Its power poured out in a deep, pulsing
drone that seemed to make the earth itself quiver and seize Rakki by his very bones. Murmurs of fear
and wonder arose among the people. A God who overthrew the mightiest of god-warriors and their
chieftains like playthings was emerging.
Two doors opened like arms on the underside to deliver him to the ground. He moved slowly and
unhurriedly, conceding neither to haste nor urgency, masterful in his dignity. His face, framed in a
close-fitting mantle, was dark and terrible, eyes of mountain ice blazing above a close-trimmed beard
streaked with white. About his body he wore a robe of purest silver gathered at the shoulders and
enclosing his arms like a cloak. He advanced with a steady tread, his mouth set tight in a downturned line.
Rakki tried not to let his trembling show as he awaited the verdict. And then his eyes widened, and he
peered more closely. He knew this God! It was the one they called Keene, the one Rakki had thought of
as the head god, and then abandoned to serve instead the false god, Zeigler. Keene had stopped and
was staring at him. He was waiting for Rakki to interpret the message. Rakki's fate would depend on the
answer he gave.
Rakki looked away and saw Jemmo, along with the most loyal of Jemmo's followers, the young ones of
Yellow Hair, still lined by the wall, as paralyzed and uncomprehending as everyone else. The God looked
at them too. He wanted Rakki to contemplate them.
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Keene and the long-haired Goddess had tried to teach Rakki other ways. They had told him that the
power he sought to share could be his, but it could not be obtained through killing, hatred, and
destruction. The huge machines that had brought them from beyond the sky, and the cities that they
would rebuild across the world, the knowledge that revealed the mysteries of life and the meaning of why
pain and hardship, pleasure and joy existed these things were achieved by cooperation and trust, by
uniting in an effort to overcome the challenges that the world posed, not dividing and striving to overcome
each other. The false gods had proclaimed, as Rakki had believed through all the time he had lived, that
power came from instilling terror and compelling the obedience of others. And in his wisdom, the God
Keene had allowed Rakki to follow that path if he chose, and now he had shown him where it would
lead.
The power that Zeigler would have offered had been pitted against that which true Godhood promised.
Rakki was looking at the result. And now, in his moment of revelation, it all seemed so simple and
self-evident to him. He had seen the intricate fashioning of the interiors of the craft in which the Gods flew
over the land, and of the artifacts that filled them; the immense constructions they were erecting at their
city to the north; the windows that brought living images from distant places, the light that appeared on
command, and countless other arts for manipulating objects and forces, and directing thought of which he
had no comprehension. How could the clumsy swinging of a club, the ending of a life, rage, and
bloodshed accomplish any of those things? All they could result in had been shown to him in the calamity
he had just witnessed. White Head had told him that the whole world had tried to follow the path that
Zeigler and the false gods had thought would bring them greatness. And it too had met with its calamity.
Had that too been visited by the Gods who were now asking Rakki which world he would rebuild? And [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]