Mack Reynolds - The Space Barbarians

John’s face was drawn.

He turned and snapped to his men, “Ride hard for the hill. I will remain and secure the balance of the information and later shout it to you from a distance, so that you may return to Aberdeen and repeat it to the Dail. But now, get out of here.”

The fourteen clannsmen wheeled their horses.

Don said, “How about you?”

“I will stay. We must have the information. You go. Take over the troop.”

“No. I will remain and share your fate.”

But Willard of the Corcorans was holding up a hand. “There is no need to depart. There is no danger.”

John stared at him. “No danger in the black pox!”

“No more. The guru cured all.”

John’s men had come to a puzzled halt.

Don of the Clarks said, “Who, in the name of the Holy, is the guru, and what do you mean, he cured all? There is no cure for the black pox. Not even the bedels can cure the pox.”

“In the name of the new religion, the guru from the Revelation , the ship from Beyond, cured the black pox by invoking Lord Krishna.” Willard of the Corcorans had defiance in his expression, as though challenging them to refute him. “The proof is here before you.”

He added, “Since then, many of Nairn have taken the soma and entered into the Shrine of Kalkin.”

“Soma?” John said. “What is soma?”

The Nairn Sachem scowled. “I am not sure. I am poorly informed, but tomorrow I myself plan to take it and enter into oneness with Krishna.”

For a long moment John of the Hawks stared down at him. Finally, he said, “May the bards sing your exploits, Willard, Sachem of the Corcorans.” He whirled his horse and snapped to Don of the Clarks, “Let us go to the ship and confront these so-called holy men from Beyond.”

As long years before, when John had approached the exploratory spaceship the Golden Hind , this vessel appeared to prow as they approached. When finally it loomed above them, it seemed in volume at least that of five or six long-houses. Behind him, he could sense the stirring in the ranks of his troop, most of whom had not seen the Golden Hind when it had visited Aberdeen. Made all of shining metal, it was mindshaking to think that this vessel from Beyond could lift itself and travel to the stars and back.

John of the Hawks came to a halt and stared upward. There was a ramp that led to an open entry port.

He had nearly decided to dismount and ascend, when a figure appeared and started down toward them. The first men from Beyond John had met had all been in a strange colorless uniform, rather than wearing the kilts of their respective clanns; indeed, they had confessed to having no clanns. But this solitary otherworldling was attired all in black, as a bedel might dress on Holy days devoted to praise.

When he had reached the ground, he looked up and said, “Welcome to the Revelation , John of the Hawks.”

John looked at him emptily. “You are unarmed, Mister of the Harmons, as am I. But perhaps you forget that I carry the bloodfeud with you.”

The other, a man of approximately John’s own years, twisted his mouth in sour amusement. He held his hands out to either side. “I am always unarmed, John of the Hawks. You see, I have entered the Shrine of Kalkin as an acolyte.”

“You mean you are a bedel?”

“Not exactly.”

“You are one of the supposed holy men who spread a new religion other than that taught by the Keepers of the Faith?”

The other nodded. “That is correct. I am now skipper of the Revelation . All members of the crew also follow the footsteps of Krishna. None are armed.”

Don of the Clarks said, “And so are protected by the bann.” He grunted. “I suspect you cozen us, Skipper of the Harmons.”

Harmon looked at him in amusement. “They’re your customs and taboos, not mine. I, and the others of the Revelation , have come with the message of Krishna and to bring you to the Shrine of Kalkin.”

John looked at him for a long moment more before saying, “Very well. We have been sent to secure information of this new faith and of your purpose here on Caledonia. Tell us more of… of Krishna and your so-called shrine.”

Harmon raised his eyebrows, and there was a mocking quality in his eyes. “But I am only an acolyte and not fit to spread the word.

— Don of the Claries scowled. “You talk in circles, man from Beyond.”

But a new figure had come to the entry port and now slowly began the descent of the ramp. He was an older man, bald of head and with a great calm dignity in his every motion. He wore a robe of orange, an unprecedented dress as far as John and the other clannsmen were concerned, and there were sandals upon his feet.

When he had reached their level, Harmon made a respectful obeisance to him, then turned to the Caledonians and said, “This is Mark, Guru of the Shrine of Kalkin, our leader and teacher.”

John nodded courteously. “I am John of the Hawks,” he said. “I assume you are a bedel who teaches this new faith that is against the bann.”

“There is only one bann, my son. ‘Thou shall not harm.’ This Lord Krishna has revealed to us.”

Don snorted, “There are many banns, and obviously there have always been many banns and will continue to be. Otherwise… why, otherwise, there would soon be no living clannsmen on all Caledonia.”

“No more, my son. And when you have taken your soma and have entered into the Shrine of Kalkin and are one with Lord Krishna, then you, too, will harm no more.”

“What is this soma?” John demanded.

The guru said gently, “Many millennia ago, my son, the Lord Vishnu, in his first avatara as Lord Matsya, gave to man the blessing of soma. But man was then incapable of following the way of Krishna, and soma was lost through the centuries. But with the final avatara of Lord Vishnu, that of Kalian, soma was again found by a great guru who deciphered the ancient writings of Mohenjo-Daro, in the Indus valley of Mother Earth.”

“’What does avatara mean?” Don said.

The older man looked at him. “Reincarnation, my son.”

“Who is this Krishna you keep talking about?” John demanded.

The gentle eyes came back to the raid cacique. “The Lord Krishna is the eighth avatara of Vishnu, my son, and our redeemer. It is he that united us all into one in the glory of the Shrine of Kalkin with the holy soma.”

John of the Hawks grimaced in impatience. “Do you mean, before you can understand this new faith, you must take this thing you call soma?”

“Yes, my son.”

“And you have taken it?”

“Yes, my son.”

“I am not your son,” John said impatiently. “We are not even kyn. Have all the people from Beyond taken your soma?”

“No, my son. Not all.” The guru looked at Harmon and frowned slightly. “Not even many of those who follow the path of Krishna.”

Harmon said, “I have yet to feel myself worthy to unite with the Lord Krishna.”

John looked at the Revelation’s skipper. “So you haven’t taken it but recommend that we do.”

Harmon said evenly, “One day I shall, when I feel myself worthy.”

John grunted and looked back at the older man. “Then, what happens after you take soma?”

“Yon become one with Krishna, our redeemer, and follow his teaching the rest of your years until the end of mortal life comes and you are gathered into the bosom of Kalkin.”

“What teaching?”

“Thou shalt do not harm.”

Don snorted.

John said, “Look, Guru of the Marks, it is impossible to go through life without harming someone.”

“Not just someone, my son. Any living thing.”

The Caledonians were staring at him.