Eric Flint - Mother of Demons

"I did not mean you personally. I meant-" She waved her hand, encompassing the huge throng outside the hut.

"We have come to stay," replied Ushulubang. The gesture of respectful inquiry. "With your permission, great mother of demons."

"Don't call me that!"

The gesture of obedience. "As you wish. May I ask why?"

"I am not the ruler of my people."

"So I was told. That is why I did not call you Paramount Mother."

Indira's irritation was replaced by curiosity.

"I do not understand the distinction."

Ushulubang whistled humorously. "There is, in some ways, no distinction. The Paramount Mothers of the tashop arren do not rule their peoples, in all truth, despite the hootings of the awoloshu."

Indira mentally translated Ushulubang's terms. The Anshaku term tashop arren meant "the thickness of the meat." All of the gukuy religions which she had so far encountered, except that of the Pilgrims, based their cosmological concepts on the analogy between the world and a huge clam. In all the languages she knew, in fact, the term for "world" was actually "The-Clam-That-Is-The-World." The earth itself, rich and fecund, was "the Meat of the Clam." The pearly gray sky above was "the mother-of-pearl." The shell of the Clam protected the world from the unknown terrors which lurked in the Infinite Sea beyond. (When the gukuy had learned that the humans had come to Ishtar from somewhere in that Infinite Sea, their nature as "demons" had been confirmed. Who but demons could survive such a voyage?)

The religion of the Pilgrims did not seem to be much preoccupied with questions of cosmology and cosmogony. Like the ancient religions and philosophies of China, the Pilgrims were far more concerned with questions concerning social life and ethics. They accepted the basic cosmological concepts of their time-except for a slight twist. Goloku had said, once, that the world was not a clam but a snail. The distinction, to Indira, captured the essence of what made the religion of the Pilgrims such a new and revolutionary factor in gukuy history. Clams are passive. Filter feeders. Whereas snails-far more so on Ishtar than on Earth-were active animals who hunted for their food. To the traditionalists, the world simply was. To the Pilgrims, the world was going somewhere, in search of something.

Much like the ancient Chinese, the civilized realms of the south viewed themselves as the center of the world. The Chinese had called their land "the Middle Kingdom;" the southern gukuy called theirs "the thickness of the meat."

She had greater difficulty with awoloshu. The prefix "a" simply indicated the plural. "Wolosh" was the stem of the word. From the context, she assumed that Ushulubang was referring to the priests of the southern societies. But, in Anshaku, the term for priest was "wulush," not "wolosh."

She understood, suddenly. The word used by the sage was a pun. There was a type of snail on Ishtar, called oloshap. It was a scavenger and, as such, considered unclean by the gukuy. It also produced, when startled, a loud and ugly-sounding noise. (The Anshaku word for "fart," in fact, was a derivative- shapu.)

Chuckling, she shook her head. "I still do not understand why a paramount mother is different-"

"Are you familiar with the customs of the barbarians?"

Indira nodded. "To some degree. There are a number of former tribespeople among the Pilgrims."

Ushulubang made the gesture of agreement, which shifted to the gesture of regret.

"Not so many as I would prefer. The barbarians, despite their crudities, are a better-souled folk than the dwellers of the tashop arren. Especially the Kiktu. I raise this matter because the barbarians do not have the custom of Paramount Mothers."

Indira nodded again. "No, they call them the Great Mothers. They are not revered; but, I think, have more real say in the affairs of their people."

The gesture of respectful disagreement.

"To a degree, that is true. But the difference is much more profound. The Paramount Mothers of the tashop arren are the source of the people, the embodiment of the people's life. Among the barbarians, however, the Great Mothers are also the protectors of the people."

Indira frowned. "The protection of my people is in the hands of our Captain, Joseph Adekunle." (She pronounced it in the Anshac manner: Yoshefadekunula.)

"Just so. Yet… you are called the 'Admiral of the Ocean Sea.' The term may be translated, I believe, as the 'Leader of the Journey Through Infinity.' "

Indira gritted her teeth. God damn Hector Quintero and Julius Cohen. Men and their stupid jokes.

She attempted to explain the actual origin of the term in the colony's history, but Ushulubang interrupted her with a whistle.

"Males-and their stupid jokes. But Goloku taught us that humor is the palp of wisdom. A rough and heavy palp, at times. But such is often necessary, to open the valves of truth."

Once again, that piercing huge-eyed stare.

"The title is, I believe, most appropriate. Tell me, gre-Inudiratoledo: what is the principal means by which a being protects itself?"

Indira shrugged. "It depends on the being. Tentacles, for gukuy. Arms, for an ummun. And for both, the swiftness of their peds."

Ushulubang made the gesture of negation.

"No. The principal means by which a being protects itself is its eyes. For you must first see the danger, before you can deal with it."

Indira hesitated. "That is true. But-"

"What is the danger which always faces a people?"

"I-it depends."

"No. It does not 'depend.' It is always true-at all places; at all times."

She understood, suddenly. "The future."

"Just so-Admiral of the Ocean Sea Inudiratoledo."

Indira shook her head fiercely.

There is no time for this now.

"We must return to the original subject of our discussion."

"As you wish."

"How will your Pilgrims live on the Chiton? And where?"

"You have not yet given us permission to stay."

Indira frowned. "You do not need my permission. I do not own this mountain, nor do my people. If it belongs to anyone, it belongs to the owoc."

"You misunderstand. The Chiton is vast, with many valleys. There is more than enough room here for all of us-owoc, gukuy, and ummun alike." A humorous whistle. "The Pilgrims number among them both civilized and barbarian people. There is not a skill in the world which they do not know. Skills which, from what I have seen, you ummun often seem to lack."

Indira nodded. It could not be denied. In truth, over the past two years the humans had learned far more from the gukuy, in the way of practical skills, than the other way around.

"You, on the other hand, possess arts and skills which we lack. Most of those arts-sciences, you call them-are not yet of any use to my people. In truth, we do not even understand them. But I believe those arts will be necessary for us, in that dangerous place called the future."

The gesture of regretful affirmation. "And in the meantime, you possess a great knowledge of that skill which is most necessary of all. In this perilous place called the present."

"And what is that?" But she already knew the answer.

"The art of war."

"Is that why they came here?" asked Julius later. "To learn how to fight their persecutors?"

"Partly. But it's more than that. Ishtarian society has reached the stage where the old ways are rupturing at the seams. In all societies-civilized and barbarian alike. The emergence of the Way is itself a symptom of that upheaval. So is the rise of this monstrous tribe from the far west."

"The Utuku?" He shook his head. "Well, let's root for the Kiktu."

Indira shook her head. Grimly: "It's too late for that, Julius. The Kiktu were utterly destroyed by the Utuku. Months ago, in a great battle on the other side of that huge jungle southwest of the Chiton. The Pilgrims learned about it from refugees fleeing the disaster. That's why they circled the mountain and came in from the east, in fact-to avoid the oncoming army of the Utuku. A number of the refugees are here with the Pilgrims. I was able to talk to one of them today myself."