Eric Flint - Mother of Demons

She reads English, too. And her accent's extraordinarily good-especially given that she must have learned from another Pilgrim.

Suddenly, Indira was filled with-not anger, exactly, but extreme exasperation. She had had more than enough of these bizarre new myths and legends which seemed to be springing up like weeds.

"English is not a holy tongue," she said harshly. "It is simply a language like any other. A ummun language, true. But the ummun have many languages."

The two other gukuy who had entered the hut with Ushulubang registered ochre/pink confusion/abashment. But Indira was surprised to see an emerald tint appear on Ushulubang's mantle. Green, Indira had learned, was a very complex color for the gukuy. The various shades carried subtle differences in meaning, which, though they all had love and tranquillity at their base, could express those fundamental emotions in a multitude of permutations.

Emerald is the color of contentment.

"As I surmised," said Ushulubang. The old gukuy made the gesture of profound respect. "I had hoped, but I could not be certain until I came here and spoke with you myself."

"Be certain of what?" demanded Indira.

The opoloshuku gestured to her two companions. "My apashoc "-the word meant "kin of the road"- "had told me that you were the guardian of the secrets. A jealous guardian, they said, who would not impart the secrets to the people."

Indira suppressed a sharp retort.

"But I did not believe them. I thought instead-"

Ushulubang paused for a moment.

"What have the apashoc told you of Goloku?"

Indira was taken aback by the question. She fumbled an answer: A holy person; a saint; a sage; possessor of all wisdom; embodiment of goodness; teacher of Ushulubang whistled derision.

"What nonsense! Goloku was a crude boor; a rascal; a drunk; a teller of lewd jokes; and most of all, she was a tyrant, hard as bronze."

Indira's eyes widened. The gukuy on either side of Ushulubang flashed bright ochre. Ushulubang glanced at them both, and again made the gesture of derision. (But the subtleties of the arm-curls contained also, in some manner Indira could not determine, the connotation of affection.)

"They did not know Goloku, as I did." For a moment, Ushulubang's mantle turned a deep, rich shade of brownish-green.

"I am the only one still alive," said Ushulubang sadly, "of Goloku's first apashoc. All that is left of that small band of sisters. There are not even many still alive of the later apashoc. Very few, of those who knew Goloku personally, survived Ilishito's persecution."

Indira knew the tale. She had heard it many times from the Pilgrims on the mountain. During Goloku's lifetime, her disciples had been few in number. After the founder of the Way died-of poison, it was said-the Paramount Mother of the time, Ilishito, had ordered the extermination of the sect. Guided, according to proclamations of the Anshac officials, by the divinations of the priests. From what she had been able to learn of Anshac society, Indira suspected that the decision had actually been made by the awosha- the ruling council of the Ansha females. Although, by all accounts, the Paramount Mother Ilishito had been more than cruel enough to have ordered the persecution herself.

Of the inner circle of disciples-those who had learned directly from Goloku herself-only Ushulubang had survived. Due, Indira thought, to the fact that Ushulubang was herself a very high-ranking member of the dominant clan. She had been officially expelled from the clan, and her clan markings scoured clean with caustic substances. But her life had been spared by the priests.

To their everlasting regret, I suspect.

Ushulubang's mantle returned to gray. "These young apashoc have never really understood Goloku. I do not criticize them, you understand." The pinkish tones in her two companions faded. "They have tried, and tried very hard. Under the most severe circumstances. But-they always lapse into the great error. The error which Goloku flailed us for committing, mercilessly, every day of her life."

"What error is that?"

Ushulubang's huge-eyed stare was piercing.

"The belief that Goloku brought us the Answer. When what she really brought us was a thing much greater. She brought us the Question."

Ushulubang rose. "And now, with your permission, I will leave you. Tomorrow, perhaps, we can speak again. But I fear I am old and weak, and it has been a long journey from Shakutulubac."

Indira nodded. That human expression was now familiar to the gukuy on the mountain. Ushulubang's reaction to it demonstrated, once again, that the old sage had prepared well for this meeting.

"I thank you." She turned to go.

"One moment, please," said Indira.

Ushulubang looked back.

"You did not answer my question. What did you mean-when you said that you were not certain until you met me?"

"When I heard that demons had come to us, and that there was one among them who knew the Answer, I had thought the tale must be wrong. But until today, I was not sure. Until you denied that Enagulishuc is the holy tongue, in words as sharp as stone."

"I do not understand."

"Just so did Goloku flail us, when we fell into error. When I heard your words, I understood why the Coil sent demons to the world, and my soul was filled with love. I had feared, in the depths of my heart, that we would lose the Way. Without a flail to lash the error of the Answer, it is so easy to fall aside."

"I do not understand."

Green ripples marched across Ushulubang's mantle.

"Just so. You have seen the statue of Goloku in the temple at Fagoshau?"

"Yes."

"It is no longer there. I smashed it with my flail when I saw it." A whistle of derision. "These spawn "-a gesture to her companions"were shocked and aghast. That is because they had fallen into the error of the Answer."

A faint brownish ripple went across Ushulubang's mantle.

"Yet I should not be proud. I too had fallen aside, without realizing it. Until you flailed me, great mother of demons."

"I do not understand."

The gesture of profound respect. "Just so. Enagulishuc is indeed not the holy tongue. It is the tongue that will pave the road of holiness."

"I'm impressed," said Julius softly, after Ushulubang left. When she looked at him, Indira saw that there was no trace on his face of whimsy.

"So am I," she replied. "I always wondered what it would be like to meet the founder of Christianity."

Julius frowned. "What do you mean? Ushulubang's impressive, but she hardly seems divine."

Indira shook her head. "I wasn't talking about the Christ. Jesus inspired the religion that took his name. But Christianity was founded by St. Paul."

Julius stared out the doorway at Ushulubang's receding figure.

"You think so?"

Indira shrugged. "It's an analogy, and like any analogy it's suspect. For one thing, the Way of the Coil is a totally different doctrine than Christianity. Insofar as there's a parallel on Earth, it reminds me more of Taoism than anything else."

"You've always said Buddhism was the closest parallel."

"Yes, I have. But now that I've met Ushulubang, I will no longer say it."

Julius attempted to pursue the matter further, but Indira was clearly distracted. More than distracted, Julius eventually realized. She was completely lost in her own thoughts.

Indira met again with Ushulubang the following day. But the meeting was brief. Although Indira was burning with the desire to pursue what she had glimpsed of the sage's philosophy, practical matters had intervened-in their usual, overwhelming manner.

"How long will you stay?" she asked Ushulubang.

The sage made the gesture of completion. "I will die here, on the Chiton." A whistle. "Though not soon, I hope."

Indira shook her head. (Another human gesture which had become familiar to the gukuy.)