"I intended to wipe out the entire hierarchy of Heaven. It would seem now, though, that this must go the way of all good intentions."
"Tell me why you did it."
"If you'll tell me how you found me out. . ."
"Fair enough. Tell me, why?"
"I decided that mankind could live better without gods. If I disposed of them all, people could start having can openers and cans to open again, and things like that, without fearing the wrath of Heaven. We've stepped on these poor fools enough. I wanted to give them a chance to be free, to build what they wanted."
"But they live, and they live and they live."
"Sometimes, and sometimes not. So do the gods."
"You were about the last Accelerationist left in the world, Sam. No one would have thought you were also the deadliest."
"How did you find me out?"
"It occurred to me that Sam would be the number one suspect, except for the fact that he was dead."
"I had assumed that to be sufficient defense against detection."
"So I asked myself if there was any means by which Sam could have escaped death. I could think of none, other than a change of bodies. Who, I then asked myself, took upon him a new body the day Sam died? There was only Lord Murugan. This did not seem logical, however, because he did it after Sam's death, not before it. I dismissed that part for a moment. You-Murugan-having been among the thirty-seven suspects, were probed and passed upon as innocent by Lord Yama. It seemed I had surely taken to a false trail then - until I thought of a very simple way to test the notion. Yama can beat the psych-probe himself, so why could not someone else be able to do it? I recalled at this point that Kalkin's Attribute had involved the control of lightnings and electromagnetic phenomena. He could have sabotaged the machine with his mind so that it saw there no evil. The way of testing it, therefore, was not to consider what the machine had read, but rather how it had read it. Like the prints of the palms and the fingers of the hands, no two minds register the same patterns; But from body to body one does retain a similar mind-matrix, despite the fact that a different brain's involved. Regardless of the thoughts passing through the mind, the thought patterns record themselves unique to the person. I compared yours with a record of Murugan's which I found in Yama's laboratory. They were not the same. I do not know how you accomplished the body-change, but I knew you for what you were."
"Very clever, Kubera. Who else is familiar with this strange reasoning?"
"No one, yet. Yama, soon though, I fear. He always solves problems."
"Why do you place your life in jeopardy by seeking me thus?"
"One does not generally achieve your age, my age, without being somewhat reasonable. I knew you would at least listen to me before striking. I know, too, that since what I have to say is good no harm will come to me."
"What do you propose?"
"I am sufficiently sympathetic with what you have done to assist you in escaping from Heaven."
"Thank you, no."
"You would like to win this contest, would you not?"
"Yes, and I'll do it in my own way."
"How?"
"I will return to the City now and destroy as many of them as I can before they stop me. If enough of the great ones fall, the others will not be able to hold this place together."
"And if you fall? What then of the world, and of the cause you have championed? Will you be able to rise again to defend it?"
"I do not know."
"How did you manage the comeback?"
"One time was I possessed of a demon. He rather took a liking to me, and he told me at a time when we were in peril that he had 'strengthened my flames,' so that I could exist independent of my body. I had forgotten this until I saw my mangled corpse lying beneath me upon the streets of Heaven. I knew of only one place where I might get me another body, that being the Pavilion of the Gods of Karma. Murugan was there demanding service. As you say, my power is electrodirection. I learned there that it works without a brain to back it, as the circuits were momentarily interrupted and I went into Murugan's new body and Murugan went to hell."
"The fact that you tell me all of this seems to indicate that you intend to send me after him."
"I am sorry, good Kubera, for I like you. If you will give me your word that you will forget what you have learned and that you will wait for some other to discover it, then I will permit you to live and depart."
"Risky."
"I know that you have never given your word and broken it, though you are as old as the hills of Heaven."
"Who is the first god you would slay?"
"Lord Yama, of course, for he must be closest upon my heels."
"Then must you kill me, Sam, for he is a brother Lokapala and my friend."
"I am sure we will both regret it if I have to kill you."
"Then has your acquaintanceship with the Rakasha perhaps given you some of their taste for a wager?"
"Of what sort?"
"You win, and you have my word not to speak of this. I win, and you flee with me upon the back of Garuda."
"And of the contest?"
"Irish stand-down."
"With you, fat Kubera? And me in my magnificent new body?"
"Yes."
"Then you may strike first."
On a dark hill on the far side of Heaven, Sam and Kubera stood facing one another.
Kubera drew back his right fist and sent it forward against Sam's jaw.
Sam fell, lay still for a moment, rose slowly to his feet.
Rubbing his jaw, he returned to the spot where he had stood.
"You are stronger than you seem, Kubera," he said, and struck forward.
Kubera lay upon the ground, sucking in air.
He tried to rise, thought better of it, moaned once, then struggled back to his feet.
"I didn't think you'd get up," said Sam.
Kubera moved to face him, a dark, moist line descending his chin.
As he took his ground, Sam flinched.
Kubera waited, still breathing deeply.
Run down the gray night wall. Flee! Beneath a rock. Hide! The fury turns thy bowels to water. The friction of this crossing grates upon thy spine. . . .
"Strike!" said Sam, and Kubera smiled and hit him.
He lay there quivering, and the voices of the night, compounded of insect sounds and the wind and the sighing of grasses came to him.
Tremble, like the last loosening leaf of the year. There is a lump of ice in thy chest. There are no words within thy brain, only the colors of panic move there. . . .
Sam shook his head and rose to his knees.
Fall again, curl thyself into a ball and weep. For this is how man began, and this is how he ends. The universe is a black ball, rolling. It crusheth what it toucheth. It rolls to thee. Flee! Thou might a moment gain, an hour perhaps, before it comes upon thee. . . .
He raised his hands to his face, lowered them, glared up at Kubera, stood.
"You built the room called Fear," he said, "at the Pavilion of Silence. I remember now your power, old god. It is not sufficient."
An invisible horse races through pastures of thy mind. Thou knowest him by his hoof marks, each of which is a wound. . . .
Sam took his position, clenched his fist.
The sky creaks above thee. The ground may open beneath thy feet. And what is that tall, shadowlike thing that comes to stand at thy back?
Sam's fist shook, but he drove it forward.
Kubera rocked back upon his heels and his head snapped to the side, but he did not lose his footing.
Sam stood there trembling as Kubera drew back his right arm for the final blow.
"Old god, you cheat," he said.
Kubera smiled through his blood, and his fist came forward like a black ball.
Yama was talking to Ratri when the cry of awakened Garuda broke the night.
"This thing has never happened before," he said.
Slowly, the heavens began to open.
"Perhaps Lord Vishnu goes forth. . ."
"He has never done so at night. And when I spoke with him a short time ago he said nothing of this."
"Then some other god would dare his mount."
"No! To the pens, Lady! Quickly! I may have need of thy powers."
He dragged her forward with him, toward the steel aerie of the Bird.
Garuda was awake and untethered, but the hood was still upon him. Kubera, who had carried Sam to the pens, strapped him into the saddle seat, still unconscious.
He climbed down to the floor and activated a final control. The top of the cage rolled away. Then he took up the long metal pinion hook and moved back to the rope ladder. The bird smell was overpowering. Garuda shifted restlessly and ruffled feathers twice the size of a man.
Slowly, he climbed. As he was strapping himself into place, Yama and Ratri approached the cage.
"Kubera! What madness is this?" cried Yama. "You have never been fond of the heights!"
"Urgent business, Yama," he replied, "and it would take a day to finish servicing the thunder chariot."
"What business, Kubera? And why not take a gondola?"
"Garuda's faster. I'll tell you about it on my return."
"Perhaps I can be of help."
"No. Thank you."
"But Lord Murugan can?"
"In this case, yes."
"You two were never on the best of terms."
"Nor are we now. But I have need of his services."
"Hail, Murugan!. . . Why does he not reply?"