"Arise . . . priest," said Brahma, having forgotten his name. "What thing of mighty importance moved you to call me thus?"
The priest arose, cast a quick glance upon Brahma's dripping person and looked away again.
"Lord," said the priest, "I did not mean to call while you were at bath, but there is one among your worshipers here now who would speak with you, on a matter which I take to be of mighty importance."
"One of my worshipers! Tell him that all-hearing Brahma hears all, and direct him to pray to me in the ordinary manner, in the Temple proper!"
Brahma's hand moved toward the shutoff switch, then paused. "How came he to know of the Temple-to-Heaven line?" he inquired. "And of the direct communion of saints and gods?"
"He says," replied the priest, "that he is of the First, and that I should relay the message that Sam would have words with Trimurti."
"Sam?" said Brahma. "Sam? Surely it cannot be . . . that Sam?"
"He is the one known hereabouts as Siddhartha, Binder of the Demons."
"Await my pleasure," said Brahma, "singing the while various appropriate verses from the Vedas."
"I hear, my Lord," said the priest, and he commenced singing.
Brahma moved to another part of the pavilion and stood awhile before his wardrobe, deciding what to wear.
The prince, hearing his name called, turned from the contemplation of the Temple's interior. The priest, whose name he had forgotten, beckoned him along a corridor. He followed, and the passage led into a storage chamber. The priest rumbled after a hidden catch, then drew upon a row of shelves that opened outward, doorlike.
The prince passed through this doorway. He found himself within a richly decorated shrine. A glowing view-screen hung above its altar/control-panel, encircled by a bronze Naga, which held its tail in its teeth.
The priest bowed three times.
"Hail, ruler of the universe, mightiest of the four orders of gods and the eighteen hosts of paradise. From your navel springs forth the lotus, your hands churn the oceans, in three strides -"
"I acknowledge the truth of what you say," replied Brahma. "You are blessed and heard. You may leave us now."
"?"
"That is correct. Sam is doubtless paying you for a private line, is he not?"
"Lord . . . !"
"Enough! Depart!"
The priest bowed quickly and left, closing the shelves behind him.
Brahma studied Sam, who was wearing dark jodhpurs, a sky-blue khameez, the blue-green turban of Urath and an empty scabbard upon a chain belt of dark iron.
Sam, in turn, studied the other, who stood with blackness at his back, wearing a feather cloak over a suit of light mail. It was caught at the throat with a clasp of fire opal. Brahma wore a purple crown, studded with pulsating amethysts, and he bore in his right hand a scepter mounted with the nine auspicious gems. His eyes were two dark stains upon his dark face. The gentle strumming of a veena occurred about him.
"Sam?" he said.
Sam nodded.
"I am trying to guess your true identity. Lord Brahma. I confess that I cannot."
"This is as it should be," said Brahma, "if one is to be a god who was, is and always shall be."
"Fine garments, those you wear," said Sam. "Quite fetching."
"Thank you. I find it hard to believe that you still exist. Checking, I note that you have not sought a new body for half a century. That is taking quite a chance."
Sam shrugged. "Life is full of chances, gambles, uncertainties. . ."
"True," said Brahma. "Pray, draw up a chair and sit down. Make yourself comfortable."
Sam did this, and when he looked up again, Brahma was seated upon a high throne carved of red marble, with a matching parasol flared above it.
"That looks a bit uncomfortable," he remarked.
"Foam-rubber cushion," replied the god, smiling. "You may smoke, if you wish."
"Thanks." Sam drew his pipe from the pouch at his belt, filled it, tamped it carefully and struck it to fire.
"What have you been doing all this time," asked the god, "since you left the roost of Heaven?"
"Cultivating my own gardens," said Sam.
"We could have used you here," said Brahma, "in our hydroponics section. For that matter, perhaps we still could. Tell me more of your stay among men."
"Tiger hunts, border disputes with neighboring kingdoms, keeping up the morale of the harem, a bit of botanical research-things like that-the stuff of life," said Sam. "Now my powers slacken, and I seek once more my youth. But to obtain it again, I understand that I must have my brains strained. Is that true?"
"After a fashion," said Brahma.
"To what end, may I ask?"
"That wrong shall fail and right prevail," said the god, smiling.
"Supposing I'm wrong," asked Sam, "how shall I fail?"
"You shall be required to work off your karmic burden in a lesser form."
"Have you any figures readily available as to the percentage that fails, vis-á-vis that which prevails?"
"Think not less of me in my omniscience," said Brahma, stifling a yawn with his scepter, "if I admit to having, for the moment, forgotten these figures."
Sam chuckled. "You say you have need of a gardener there in the Celestial City?"
"Yes," said Brahma. "Would you like to apply for the job?"
"I don't know," said Sam. "Perhaps."
"And then again, perhaps not?" said the other.
"Perhaps not, also," he acknowledged. "In the old days there was none of this shillyshallying with a man's mind. If one of the First sought renewal, he paid the body price and was served."
"We no longer dwell in the old days, Sam. The new age is at hand."
"One would almost think that you sought the removal of all of the First who are not marshaled at your back."
"A pantheon has room for many, Sam. There is a niche for you, if you choose to claim it."
"If I do not?"
"Then inquire in the Hall of Karma after your body."
"And if I elect godhood?"
"Your brains will not be probed. The Masters will be advised to serve you quickly and well. A flying machine will be dispatched to convey you to Heaven."
"It bears a bit of thinking," said Sam. "I'm quite fond of this world, though it wallows in an age of darkness. On the other hand, such fondness will not serve me to enjoy the things I desire, if it is decreed that I die the real death or take on the form of an ape and wander about the jungles. But I am not overly fond of artificial perfection either, such as existed in Heaven when last I visited there. Bide with me a moment while I meditate."
"I consider such indecision presumptuous," said Brahma, "when one has just been made such an offer."
"I know, and perhaps I should also, were our positions reversed. But if I were God and you were me, I do believe I would extend a moment's merciful silence while a man makes a major decision regarding his life."
"Sam, you are an impossible haggler! Who else would keep me waiting while his immortality hangs in the balance? Surely you do not seek to bargain with me?"
"Well, I do come from a long line of slizzard traders-and I do very badly want something."
"And what may that be?"
"Answers to a few questions which have plagued me for a while now."
"These being . . . ?"
"As you are aware, I stopped attending the old Council meetings over a century ago, for they had become lengthy sessions calculated to postpone decision-making, and were primarily an excuse for a Festival of the First. Now, I have nothing against festivals. In fact, for a century and a half I went to them only to drink good Earth booze once more. But, I felt that we should be doing something about the passengers, as well as the offspring of our many bodies, rather than letting them wander a vicious world, reverting to savagery. I felt that we of the crew should be assisting them, granting them the benefits of the technology we had preserved, rather than building ourselves an impregnable paradise and treating the world as a combination game preserve and whorehouse. So, I have wondered long why this thing was not done. It would seem a fair and equitable way to run a world."
"I take it from this that you are an Accelerationist?"
"No," said Sam, "simply an inquirer. I am curious, that's all, as to the reasons."
"Then, to answer your questions," said Brahma, "it is because they are not ready for it. Had we acted immediately-yes, this thing could have been done. But we were indifferent at first. Then, when the question arose, we were divided. Too much time passed. They are not ready, and will not be for many centuries. If they were to be exposed to an advanced technology at this point, the wars which would ensue would result in the destruction of the beginnings they have already made. They have come far. They have begun a civilization after the manner of their fathers of old. But they are still children, and like children would they play with our gifts and be burnt by them. They are our children, by our long-dead First bodies, and second, and third and many after-and so, ours is the parents' responsibility toward them. We must not permit them to be accelerated into an industrial revolution and so destroy the first stable society on this planet. Our parental functions can best be performed by guiding them as we do, through the Temples. Gods and goddesses are basically parent figures, so what could be truer and more just than that we assume these roles and play them thoroughly?"