Mack Reynolds - The Space Barbarians

“I am not your brother, we are not even kyn,” Bertram of the Fowlers said in indignation. “And one must not speak thus about the Holy Books; it is against the bann! And though my eyes, in retreat as my years advance, no longer allow me to contemplate them, so much have I read in the past that they are all but memorized.”

The guru nodded and looked more closely at the other. “Cataracts,” he murmured. Then, “My, brother, as soon as we are established, you must be first to allow Lord Krishna to intervene in your behalf. You shall read again—tomorrow, at the latest.”

The elderly bedel stared at him, his aged mouth working. “You mean… ?”

“Yes,” the guru said simply. He looked about. “As soon as we can be settled in quarters, I shall invoke the Lord Krishna in your behalf immediately.”

Thomas of the Polks was coming forward. He said. “We have not yet voted upon how to receive you, strangers from Beyond. However, you are travelers and hence welcome to a minimum of three days of hospitality, even though the last time your clannsmen visited Aberdeen our hospitality was abused.”

John of the Hawks said to Harmon, who had been standing to one side, his face characteristically sardonic, “When you were here before, Mister of the Harmons, my quarters, in the longhouse of the Hawks, were relinquished to you. Though you are now my bloodfeud foe, it is as the sachem has said—you are travelers and hence eligible for three days of hospitality. If you wish, my quarters are again available.”

Harmon made an amused half bow. He turned, to the Guru. “As good a place as any. I’ll have the men set up your portable clinic, ah, that is, your shrine .”

The guru frowned at him, albeit gently. “A pagoda, my son, does not depend upon surroundings. It is where the heart of the follower of Lord Krishna is.”

“Of course,” Harmon said dryly. He returned to the skimmer.

John turned and left the amphitheater, heading back for the rows of sagamores, the subchiefs.

Don was among them. John jerked his head toward the edge of the assembly, and Don, his eyebrows high in surprise, followed.

“When they were out of earshot of everyone else, Don demanded, “Why in the name of the Holy did you offer that slink your quarters?”

“You’ll see,” John growled. “Long years ago, through accident, I heard much of the plans of these men from Beyond. This time, it will be no accident. We must hurry, because almost surely, when they first enter the quarters, thinking themselves alone, they will discuss their purpose here.”

Even as he strode along beside his blood comrade, Don was both mystified and surprised. He said hesitantly, “Do you mean you plan to spy upon the travelers who have been granted the hospitality of Aberdeen?”

John snorted. “True enough. I would be stripped of my kilts, were the Keepers of the Faith to know. I did it before, long years ago, but then I was but a lad and not a full clannsman, and besides, as I say, it was an accident. However, this situation is more serious than most seem to know, and I sacrifice my honor for the greater need. Not only is Aberdeen at stake, but the whole Loch Confederation. Indeed, all Caledonia.”

Don maintained an unhappy silence.

They reached the Hawk longhouse, entered, and made their way by ladder to the flat roof. As they proceeded, John explained, “I always believed that those from Beyond would return. The explorer ship came first, and they were insufficient in number to achieve what they wished. I prepared for their return—if and when chance brought them again to Aberdeen and the longhouse of the Hawks.”

They had reached the point immediately above his chambers. John knelt, and his hands moved deftly.

“Here,” he said, stretching out on his belly.

Don of the Clarks, still frowning, joined him. There were small holes leading down through the roof, and through these holes the living room of the small apartment below was observable.

They had a wait of perhaps fifteen minutes; then two of the orange clad men from Beyond entered, carrying various equipment. Mark, the guru, entered next, followed by Harmon.

Harmon was saying in amusement, “I see you follow the old adage “Don’t talk with angels, talk with God.’ ”

The guru said, “I don’t believe I understand, my son.”

Harmon chuckled. “Picking out their senior religious figure for your first miracle. Curing that old boy’s eyesight will have them flocking in. It will start with the really bad cases, paralytics and so forth, but before the week is out you’ll have half the town making your soma.”

The guru said, “Down through all history, my son, the spreaders of faith have performed miracles in order to win their followers. Joshua of Nazereth, Mohammed, even Vishnu in his ninth avatara as the Buddha.”

Harmon said, “But the followers of the Lord Krishna, such as yourself, Guru Mark, have a great advantage in miracles. Modern medicine certainly puts you in a position to perform miracles far and beyond those of any of your predecessors.”

John could see the guru’s face, and it expressed surprise. “But my son, it all leads to their taking their soma and becoming one with Lord Krishna.”

“And the ends justify the means, eh?” Harmon laughed again. “I detect a slight Machiavellian quality.”

Don whispered to his companion, “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” John said. “Listen.”

Mark was saying, trouble in his voice. “My son, though you wear the robe of the acolyte, I sometimes wonder at your faith. For instance, when we first embarked upon this missionary expedition to a new world which had as yet not heard the message of the Lord Krishna, I did not know you had other interests than bringing the Shrine of Kalkin to Caledonia.”

Harmon said, “Guru, somebody said once, I forget who, to give unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s and unto God that which is God’s. There are many facets to human existence, Only one of which is religion.”

“By far the most important!”

“Of course.” Harmon didn’t bother to keep cynical amusement from his voice. “However, there are other things. The syndicate which I represent is based on one of the new planets where—shall we call it free enterprise?—is still in full force. We are interested in bringing, ah, civilization to Caledonia, so that its minerals can be exploited. So long us this fantastic barbarism continues, we haven’t got a chance. Very good. You have no complaints. It was through us that you were able to mount your missionary expedition. It is through us that you are able to spread your message here. Lord knows—that is, Lord Krishna, of course—you don’t reach many ears elsewhere.”

“There is deep cynicism throughout the League, my son. It is a great sadness that so few will take the soma and follow in the path of Lord Krishna.”

“Well, at least you’re having your big chance on Caledonia.”

One of the other orange robed ones spoke then, his words indistinguishable, and both Harmon and the guru moved out of range of the peep holes being utilized by John of the Hawks and Don of the Clarks.

The two clannsmen looked at each other.

Mystified, Don said, “But what is this soma?”

John shook his head. “Whatever it is, I will go down to black death before taking it. These are shameless, clannless men of evil.

Scowling Don said slowly, “No, not the old one. He is a holy man. Whether this new religion of his is a true religion, I will not say, but he is a holy man.”

John of the Hawks snorted. “He serves evil,” he growled.

John and Dewey of the Hawks and Don of the Clarks rode hard. Each man was mounted on one war steed and led two more. Periodically, they changed horses.