Gene Wolfe - Return to the Whorl

"Would nae hurt yer, H'oreb," Pig rumbled.

"No. But neither would the godling. You and Hound thought I was very brave for talking to it as I did-"

"I still think it," Hound announced.

"But Oreb's being just as brave every time he perches on my wrist and talks with me. A wild bird wouldn't do that, and I can't blame it in the least…" The birds suggested trees, immense trees like mountains and graceful fern-foliaged trees that swayed in every breeze and burned like incense; the trees, islands and continents, and smiling lakes, deep blue seas, and storm-tossed oceans.

"What yer thinkin' h'about, bucky?"

"The three whorls. Two large and low, by which I mean near the Short Sun. This one near the stars. I don't know whether Green's bigger than Blue, or Blue's bigger than Green; but both are much bigger than this whorl we're in, the Long Sun Whorl. When we came to Blue, we scarcely noticed that. I didn't notice it at all, in fact, and doubt that many of us did. Both this whorl and that one were very large places to us, and that was all that mattered; yet I would guess that Blue is ten or twenty times larger-that there's more difference in size between Blue and this whorl than between the godling and ourselves. In this whorl, Pas took care to separate us with rivers and mountain ranges. On Blue there isn't much need for that. Distance itself makes us keep our distance." He closed his eyes again, seeing league upon league of open water, and feeling the gentle rocking of his sloop.

"Horn? You said you had bad news for us. What is it?"

"Not for Pig-at least, I don't believe so. For you and me, Hound. You wanted to take your family to Green after your child was born. So it sounded. Have you changed your mind?"

"No. I-no."

"Then it's bad news, as I said. For me, too, because I must find Silk and take him home with me, and that means we must find a Lander in working order and places on it. The godling told me it has been decided-I don't know by whom-that enough people have left the Whorl now, and everyone who's still on board is to remain aboard."

Oreb whistled sharply.

"It came as a shock to me, as you may imagine, and I'm by no means certain it conforms to the will of Pas. When Patera Silk and the sleeper he had awakened went down to the surface of the whorl where the landers are, he saw the inscription Pas had caused to be cut into the steps. It read, `He who descends serves Pas best.' My understanding has always been that everyone-the entire population of the whorl-is to leave it."

"Nae mair, bucky?"

"Correct. At least, according to the godling. Everyone in the Whorl is to remain. They hope to repair it." Closing his eyes again, he added softly, "That was what Echidna and Hierax wanted. It would seem they have won after all, although the godling claimed to be speaking for Patera Silk."

"Don't you think that it might be the divine Silk issuing these orders, Horn?"

He sat up a second time, eyes wide. "What did you say?"

"The minor god that augurs call Silent Silk? Or Silver Silk?" Hound cleared his throat. "I don't know much about your religious beliefs, Pig…"

"Nae me," Pig told him. "'Fraid ter get me wind h'up? H'all pals. Right, H'oreb?"

"Good Silk!"

Hound said, "He really is," then added hastily, "not that they all aren't. There are no bad gods. I know that."

"You're telling me that there's a god called Silk?"

"Why, yes." Hound drew his jacket more tightly about him, and edged a finger's breadth nearer the dying fire. "I thought you must know about him. You're looking for Calde Silk, and I suppose Calde Silk must have been named for him, since it's a name people can use, too. Men, I mean, or boys. It's sort of a stretch, not like Hound or Horn or Pig. But Wool's a common name." Hound fell silent, clearly afraid he was offending one or both his companions.

"Good name! Good Silk!"

"Be quiet, Oreb. Hound, I'd like to know a great deal more about this god named Silk. I haven't been here, remember."

"I shouldn't have brought him up." Hound was clearly sorry he had.

"Like ter know ter," Pig rumbled. "Yer said h'it Nought ter be Silk's tellin'? Why sae?"

"Well, because the godling spoke to Horn, that's all, and Horn's looking for Calde Silk and… and it seems like there's some connection, doesn't it? Because the names are the same."

He asked, "Why do the augurs call him Silent Silk and Silver Silk, Hound? Do you know?"

"I think so. But there's a disagreement about him. I should tell you that in case you talk to other people about him. Did I call him a minor god?"

"Yes, you did."

Oreb snapped his bill in protest.

"Well, some people don't agree with that. They say he's not a minor god at all, that he's an aspect of Pas. I don't understand aspects."

Pig stirred impatiently. "S'pose he was ter gae 'round callin' himself somethin', sae folk wadna know."

Hound nodded. "I see."

"I don't like to disagree, Pig," he said, "and hesitate to in a matter of no importance. But what you're describing is a mere lie, not an aspect. The gods are known by foreign names in many foreign cities, Hound. Are you aware of it?"

"I haven't traveled, I mean like you have, or Pig. But I've heard something about it."

"It is so. Those, too, are their names; and they have as much right to them as we have to ours. There is also the matter of personality, both the kinds of persons we are at base and the way we seem to others. You have your personality; you are always Hound, whether you are kind or cruel, whether you act well or badly. Pig is always Pig, Oreb-"

"Good bird!"

"Is always Oreb, a good bird just as he says; and I'm always myself. But the immortal gods, whose powers are so much greater than ours, can incorporate many different personalities, and do. This not some special insight of mine, by the way. Merely what I was taught in the schola."

"I see," Hound said again. "You're going to say that when a god uses a new name and a new personality, that's an aspect. Isn't that right, Horn?"

He nodded. "And a new appearance. The god is still Pas, Molpe, or whoever; but this is a view of Pas or Molpe that we haven't been privileged to see before-a new aspect of Pas or Molpe. Now, why has the god called Silk been awarded the epithet Silent?"

"Because he told the Prolocutor that he looked out of the Sacred Windows without showing himself there, like Tartaros. But Tartaros generally turns them black and speaks. Silk said he didn't speak or make the window change at all, pretty often. He just looked on."

"Thank you." He yawned and stretched. "Thank you very much, Hound. Believe me, I appreciate your information more than I can say. Is everyone ready to sleep? I confess I am-more than ready."

"No sleep. Night good!"

"It may or may not be night, Oreb. We have no way of knowing, and certainly no one should feel compelled to sleep who doesn't want to."

Hound said hastily, "You don't have to lie on the bare floor, Horn. I've got a blanket you can lie on. Folded in threes, it'll be a lot more comfortable."

"Thank you," he said. "That's very kind of you; but what we really need is firewood, I'm afraid. It's certainly getting cooler. I'll go outside and look for some, if both of you will promise to remain in here."

Pig prepared to rise. "Be ter wet ter burn, bucky."

"He's right," Hound told him. "You could catch pneumonia if you went out there again, and it would be for nothing."

"Dry, we need, bucky." Laboriously, Pig stood up. "Here's ther lad ter fetch h'it, ter. Dirma yer gae wi'."

"Pig-"

The long sword was only half drawn from its brass-tipped scabbard, but the swift hiss of the steel was like the hiss of a coiler big enough to crush and devour five men at once. Oreb squawked with dismay.

"I wasn't going to try to stop you, Pig-nor was I going to insist on going with you."