"May I experiment? I confess I am impressed, but I am an incorrigible skeptic."

"Proceed," Deacon Brown said. "We approve of skepticism, in your case. We do not need yet another dedicated cultist." There was a murmur of agreement, though Brother Paul thought he detected a rueful tinge to it. At least these cultists were not overly sensitive about their situation! Probably they had been chosen to deal with him because they were the least fanatical of their respective sects.

"Then if I may borrow a Tarot deck-" One was handed to him. Though he was usually observant, his fascination with the current proceedings rendered the favor anonymous; he could not afterward recall whose deck he had borrowed. He riffled expertly through the cards, limbering his fingers. There had been a time when-but those days were best forgotten.

This was one of the popular medieval-style versions, with peasants and winged figures and children, rather than the more sophisticated modern designs. In this circ.u.mstance he was glad it was this type; a surrealistic deck could only have complicated an already incredible experience.

"I shall select a card," Brother Paul said carefully. "I shall show it to all of you except one. And then that one shall have it and animate it for us, without looking at the rest of you. May I have a volunteer?"

"I will do it," Deacon Brown said. "We of Lemuria are always happy to demonstrate the reality of our-" Someone coughed, and he broke off. "Sorry.

Didn't mean to proselytize."

The deacon faced away, his bald pate glistening in the dim light from a window.

The storm had brought a nocturnal gloom to the landscape, but now it was easing.

Brother Paul selected the Three of Swords. It was a handsome card with a straight, red-bladed sword in the center enclosed by two ornate and curving scimitars, and a background of colored leaves. Silently he showed it to the others, then pa.s.sed it to the deacon.

In a moment the picture was reproduced with fair accuracy. Three swords and some leaves hung in the air. Brother Paul reached out and touched one of the scimitars-whereupon all three swords fell to the floor with a startling clatter.

There was silence in the hall. Everyone at the other tables was watching now, silently. "Sorry," Brother Paul said. "I fear my ignorant touch interfered.

Allow me to try one more." Privately he asked himself: if he had been able to accept the presence of Antares during matter transmission, why did he have so much trouble accepting these simple objects? And the answer came to him: because there were witnesses here. He could have imagined Antares; this present phenomenon went beyond imagination.

Brother Paul glanced about. Where were the wand, the cups, the swords? He saw none of them now. Had they vanished into that limbo whence they had come, or had they never really existed? Well, if someone were tricking him, he would have the proof in a moment.

Again he selected a card: the Four of Disks, with its four flowerlike disks, each centered by a four-leafed clover, and an ornate s.h.i.+eld bearing the device IM. After he had shown it around, he pa.s.sed it to the deacon. But, unbeknownst to his audience, he exchanged cards. The actual model was the Ace of Cups.

Now, if the Four of Coins formed, he would know it was ma.s.s hypnosis, for it had to have been compelled by the belief of others. But if the cup formed-!

The cup formed, huge and colorful, with a blue rim, a red lid, and a cross inscribed on its side.

"I think our guest is having a little fun with us," Reverend Siltz remarked, unamused.

"Merely verifying the origin of the Animation," Brother Paul said, shaken. "Do you all see the coin?"

"Cup, not coin," Siltz said. "It is controlled by the one who makes it; our expectations are irrelevant."

Evidently so! And the cup was so large that it could not have been concealed on the deacon's person for a sleight-of-hand manifestation, even had the man been clever enough to work such a trick under Brother Paul's experienced eye. This was a larger challenge than he had antic.i.p.ated. Physical, concrete apparitions, willed consciously into existence!

"Impressive," Brother Paul admitted. "Yet you seem to have good control over the situation. I had understood you were quite alarmed by untoward Animations."

Reverend Siltz smiled grimly. "We were indeed, at first. But in the past year we have come to know more about these effects. We are a.s.sured of the reality of the Animations; it is G.o.d we have yet to compa.s.s."

The deacon turned, and his cup faded out. "Any one of us might Animate G.o.d in his own image, but that would be merely opinion, not reality. It is vital that we know the truth."

"Yet would I not Animate G.o.d in my own image?" Brother Paul inquired, troubled.

This really was the point Siltz had raised in their private discussion.

"We must trust to your objectivity-and we shall send Watchers with you to a.s.sist," Reverend Siltz said. He was not giving away any of his private att.i.tude now! Did members of the Second Church Communist play poker? "They will also try to protect you from untoward manifestations."

And such manifestations, as had been made clear, could be lethal! "May I try this myself? Here, now?" Brother Paul asked, feeling a slight s.h.i.+ver within him, as of stage fright.

"Do it quickly, for the storm is pa.s.sing," Deacon Brown said. "These effects are erratic at best; this has been an unusually good run. Normally it is necessary to go into the abyss of Northole to obtain such clear Animations. And that is dangerous."

Brother Paul picked out the first of the Major Arcana: Key Zero, the Fool.

"No!" several voices cried at once.

"Do not attempt to Animate a living man," Reverend Siltz said, evidently shaken, and his sentiment seemed to be shared by the others. "This could have unforeseen consequences."

Brother Paul nodded. So they were not really so blase about the phenomenon! If they had never attempted to Animate a man, they had not experimented very much.

He knew where he had to begin. "Still, if I am to explore this phenomenon properly, I must be permitted to Animate anything that is in my power-and I would prefer to attempt it first here, under your informed guidance."

The others exchanged glances of misgiving. They might belong to many opposing religions, but they had a certain unity here! "Your logic prevails," Reverend Siltz said heavily. "If you must do this thing, it is better done here. We shall stand aside."

Brother Paul sifted through the cards. In this deck, the Fool was t.i.tled Le Mat and garbed as a court jester. Not at all like Waite's interpretation, in which the Fool was a n.o.ble but innocent lad about to step off a cliff, symbolic of man's tremendous potential for aspiration and error. Other versions had a vicious little dog ripping the seat from the Fool's pants, so that his bare b.u.t.tock showed: the height of ridicule. He had seen one variant in which the Fool appeared to be defecating. Probably it was after all best to pa.s.s this one by, this time; to attempt it could indeed be Folly.

Key One was the Magician, or Juggler, performing his cheap tricks at a covered table. At the Order Station, Brother Paul himself was sometimes teased- very gently, of course, since no Brother would deliberately hurt anyone-about his supposed affinity with this card. They knew his background as a one-time cardsharp, and had observed his uncanny proficiency with mechanical things.

Brother Paul accepted such allusions with good spirits, grateful for the camaraderie he had found within the Order after a prior life of-never mind. He preferred to think of himself as Everyman in quest of life's ultimate meanings as symbolized by the objects resting on the table in the Vision Tarot card: a wand, a cup, a sword, and a coin, meaning fire, water, air, and earth respectively in the ubiquitous symbolism of the form. In that version, too, the cosmic lemniscate, or sidewise figure-eight, the symbol of infinity, hovered like a halo above the Magician's head, and about his waist was clasped a serpent devouring its own tail: the worm Ouroborus, a symbol of eternity. All things in all s.p.a.ce and time-that was the grandeur of the concept for which this modern Magician strived. But here in this deck, as a degraded trickster-no, pa.s.s it by also.

Key Two, here t.i.tled Juno. In Roman mythology, Juno was the wife of Jupiter and queen of the G.o.ds, counterpart to the Greek Hera. She was the special protectress of marriage and women. Her bird was the peac.o.c.k, also represented in this card. Here she was a handsome female in a bright red dress, full-bosomed and bare-legged. But such an amazonian figure might not be well-received by this male-dominated a.s.semblage. Pa.s.s her by, regretfully; even in her more common guise as the High Priestess (and the notorious Lady Pope!) she was a questionable choice.

Key Three, the Empress-a more mature and powerful woman than the preceding one.

In many decks, the Priestess was the virginal figure, while the Empress was the mother figure. Here she sat on her throne; in other decks the throne was situated in a field of wheat. Had it really been her he had glimpsed when he emerged from the capsule, only hours ago? If so, he did not want to invoke her here in public. He would prefer to meet her privately, for there was something about her that attracted him. Pa.s.s her by, for now.

Key Four, the Emperor, counterpart to the Empress, symbol of worldly power, seated on his cubic throne, his legs crossed in the figure four, holding in his right hand a scepter in the form of the Egyptian Ankh or Cross of Life, and in his left hand the globe of dominion. He represented the dominance of reason over the emotions, of the conscious over the subconscious mind. Yes, this was a good symbol for this occasion! The card of power.

Though he held the medieval card, what he visualized was the Order of Vision version. The one in the present deck, that he would have to Animate, was a medieval monarch with a great concave s.h.i.+eld a little like the wooden cup used here to guard against the threats of the storm, and a scepter that needed only three p.r.o.ngs added to it to become a trident. The Reverend Siltz could readily serve as a model for this one!

Brother Paul concentrated. He felt ridiculous; maybe he had taken so long to decide on a card because he knew this was an exercise in foolishness. There had to be some trick the colonists knew to make the Animations seem real; obviously he himself could not do it.

Sure enough, nothing happened. Whatever Animation was, it would not work for him. Which meant it was some kind of trick. "It does not seem to function," he said with a certain amount of relief.

"Allow me to try; perhaps you only need guidance," Reverend Siltz said. He took the card and concentrated.

Nothing happened.

"The storm has abated," Deacon Brown said. "The Animation effect has pa.s.sed."

So the power behind Animation had fortuitously moved on. Now nothing could be proved, one way or the other. Brother Paul told himself he should have expected this.

Yet he was disappointed. It was too marvelous to be true, and he was here, perhaps, to puncture its balloon-but what incredible power Animation promised, were it only genuine! Physical objects coalesced from imagination!

Oh, well. He was here to ascertain reality. He had no business hoping for fantasy.

5.

Intuition

Part-time occupation and never more in a whole lifetime's employment, was the "eating canker" in the lives of the queens and concubines of an eastern harem.

Unmitigated boredom, according to one legend, and irritability arising from unmitigated boredom, according to the second, resulted in the harem becoming the cradle of playing cards.

In the first legend "the inner chamber" of the Chinese imperial palace are said to have seen the birth of cards. The "veiled ones" secluded therein were numerous, since the Emperor had not so much a wife as a bedroom staff, for which the recognized establishment for some two thousand years was: Empress 1, Consorts 3, Spouses 9, Beauties or Concubines 27, and Attendant Nymphs or a.s.sistant Concubines 81. The numbers 3 and 9 were held in particular regard by the astrologers.

The "mistresses of the bed" kept regular night watches, the 81 Attendant Nymphs sharing the imperial couch for 9 nights in groups of 9, the 27 Beauties 3 nights in groups of 9, the 9 Spouses and 3 Consorts 1 night per group, and the Empress 1 night alone.

These arrangements lasted from, roughly, the early years of the Chou dynasty (255-112 B.C.) to the beginning of the Sung dynasty (A.D. 950-1279) when the old order broke down and had to be abandoned according to a contemporary post, because of the unbridled and ferocious compet.i.tion of no less than 3000 ladies of the palace. After making every allowance for poetic licence, it is clear that by the time of the Sung dynasty the occupants of the "inner chambers" had even less to do than ever before, and time must have been wearisome to the point of inducing mental breakdown. As a result, says the legend, in the year 1120, playing cards were conceived by an inmate of the Chinese imperial harem, as a pastime for relieving perpetual boredom.

Roger Tilley: A History of Playing Cards

The next morning Reverend Siltz conducted Brother Paul on a geographic tour. "I trust you are strong of foot," he remarked. "We have no machines, no beasts of burden here, and the terrain is difficult."

"I believe I can manage," Brother Paul said. After yesterday's experience with the Animations, he took quite seriously anything his host told him-but it was hardly likely that the terrain alone would do him in.

He had not slept well. The loft had been comfortable enough, with a mattress of fragrant wood shavings and pretty wooden panels above (he had half expected to see the roots of the gra.s.s that grew in the turf that formed the outer roof), but those Animations kept returning to his mind's eye. Could he have formed a physical object himself, let alone a human figure, had he not stalled until the storm pa.s.sed? If a man could form a sword from a mental or card image, could he then use it to murder a companion? Surely this was ma.s.s hypnosis! Yet Deacon Brown had Animated the cup instead of the four corns...

He shook his head. He would ascertain the truth in due course, if he could. That was his mission. First the truth about Animation, then the truth about G.o.d.

Neither intuition nor guesswork would do; he had to penetrate to the hard fact.

Meanwhile, it behooved him to familiarize himself with this locale and these people, for the secret might lie here instead of in the Animations themselves.

Despite his night of doubt, he felt better this morning, more able to cope. If G.o.d were directly responsible for these manifestations, what had a mere man to fear? G.o.d was good.

As they set out from the village, a small, swarthy man intercepted them. His body was deeply tanned, or perhaps he had mixed racial roots, as did Brother Paul. His face was grossly wrinkled, though he did not seem to be older than about fifty. "I come on a matter of privilege," he said.

Reverend Siltz halted. This is the Swami of Kundalini," he said tightly. And to the other: "Brother Paul of the Holy Order of Vision."

"It is to you I am forced to address myself," the Swami said to Brother Paul.

"We are on our way to the countryside," Reverend Siltz said, with strained politeness. He obviously did not appreciate this intrusion, and that alerted Brother Paul. What additional currents were flowing here? "The garden, the amaranth, the Animation region, where the Watchers will meet us. If you care to join them-"

"I shall gladly walk with you," the Swami said. "I am happy to talk with anyone who wishes to talk with me," Brother Paul said. "I have much to learn about this planet and this society."

"We cannot spare two for the tour," Siltz insisted. "The Swami surely has business elsewhere."

"I do, but it must wait," the Swami said.

"Well, surely a few minutes-" Brother Paul said, disliking the tension between these two men.

"Perhaps the Swami will consent to guide you in my stead," Reverend Siltz said, grimacing. "I have a certain matter I could attend to, given the occasion."

"Am I the unwitting cause of dissension?" Brother Paul asked. "I certainly don't want to-"

"I should be happy to guide the visitor," the Swami said. "I am familiar with the route."

"Then I shall depart with due grat.i.tude," the Reverend said, his expression hardly reflecting that emotion.

"But there is no need to-" Brother Paul began. But it was useless; the Reverend of the Second Church of Communism was on his way, walking stiffly but rapidly back toward the village stockade.

Looking back, Brother Paul wondered: what use was that stockade, if it did not keep out Bigfoot? Probably the monster merely swam around one end of the stockade where the wall terminated in the lake; during a storm there would be no way to keep watch for it.

"It is all right, guest Brother," the Swami said. "We differ strongly in our separate faiths, but we do not violate the precepts of the Tree of Life. The Reverend Communist will have occasion to verify the whereabouts of his wayward son, and I will guide you while making known my exception to your mission."

Still, Brother Paul was dubious. "I fear the Reverend is offended."

"Not as offended as he pretends," the Swami said with a brief smile. "He does have a serious concern to attend to, but it would have been impolitic for him to allow that to compromise his hospitality or duty. And I do have a pressing matter to discuss with you. For the affront of forcing the issue I offer such token recompense as I am able. Have you any demand?"

This was a bit complicated to a.s.similate immediately. Was this man friend, foe, or something between? "I am really not in a position to make any demands. Let's tour the region, and I will listen to your concern, trusting that this does not violate the Covenant."

"We shall skirt the main region of permanent Animation, and the advisory party shall be there. The tour is somewhat hazardous, so we must proceed with caution.

Yet this is as nothing to the hazard your mission, however sincerely intended, poses for mankind. This is my concern."

Brother Paul had suspected something of the kind. In this hotbed of schismatic religions, there was bound to be a good doomsday prophet, and someone was sure to express strong opposition to any community project, even one designed to help unify the community itself in the interest of survival. Brother Paul had had experience with democratic community government. He had been s.h.i.+elded from the lunatic element here. Now it seemed to have broken through. Yet even a fanatic could have useful insights. "I certainly want to be advised of hazards," Brother Paul said. "Physical and social."

"You shall be apprised of both. I will show you first our mountain garden, to the south; between eruptions we farm the terraces, for the ash decomposes swiftly and is incredibly rich. Our single garden feeds the whole village for the summer, enabling us to conserve wood for winter sustenance. This is vital to our survival."

The man certainly did not sound like a nut! "But what of your wheatfields that I pa.s.sed through yesterday?"

"Amaranth, not wheat," the Swami told him. "Amaranth is a special grain, adaptable to alien climes. Once it was thought of as a weed, back on Earth, until the resurgence of small family farms developed the market for tough, hand-harvested grains. We have been unable to grow true wheat here on Planet Tarot, but are experimenting with varieties of this alternate grain, and have high hopes. The lava s.h.i.+elds are also very rich here on Southmount, but decompose more slowly than the ash, and so require slower-growing, more persistent crops. The climate of the lower region is more moderate, which is a long-range benefit."

Brother Paul did not know much about either amaranth or volcanic farming, so he wasn't clear on all this and did not argue. However, he did find some of these statements questionable. The decomposition of lava was not, as he understood it, a matter of a season or two, but of centuries. The seasonal growth of plants would be largely governed by elements already available in the soil, rather than by the slow breakdown of rock.

Their discussion lapsed, for the climb was getting steep. Gla.s.sy facets of rock showed through the turf, like obsidian mirrors set in the slope. Volcanic? It must be; he wished he knew more about the subject The volcanoes of Planet Tarot might differ fundamentally from those of Earth, however, just as did those of Earth's more immediate neighbor, Mars.

Fundamentally. He smiled, appreciating a pun of sorts. A volcano was a thing of the fundament, shaped by the deepest forces of the planetary crust. So whether different or similar- He stumbled on a stone, and lost his train of thought. There was a path, but not an easy one. The Swami scrambled ahead with the agility of a monkey, hands grasping crystalline outcroppings with the precision of long experience. Brother Paul kept the pace with difficulty, copying the positioning of his guide's grips. In places the ascent became almost vertical, and the path was cleaved occasionally by jagged cracks in the rock. Apparently the lava had contracted as it cooled, so that the fissures opened irregularly. The slanting sunbeams shone down into these narrow clefts, reflecting back and forth dazzlingly, and making the mountain seem like the mere sh.e.l.l of a netherworld of illumination. A person could be blinded, he thought, by peering into this kaleidoscopic hall of mirrors.

Or hypnotized, he realized. Could this be the cause of the Animations?

Then what had he seen and touched in the mess hall, during the storm? No crevices there, no sunlight! Scratch one theory.

Cracks and gas: that suggested a gruesome a.n.a.logy. The bocor, or witch doctor, of Haiti (and could the similarity of that name to "hate" be coincidental?