If Aun himself felt this, he gave no sign of it; he was the soul of courtesy as he ushered Glavelecun Dir to a seat, offered him refreshment, enquired after his health, and - finally - seated himself behind his imposing desk, steepled his hands, and let the Pontiff bring up the actual reason for his call.
"I am concerned," said Dir, eventually. "I might even say, gravely concerned."
Aun waved one hand airily. "It seems we live in interesting times, Your Holiness. Also alarming, perhaps... but certainly interesting."
"I am inclined more to alarm than to interest," said Dir. "It is not so much the war with the Klingons... though that in itself is cause for the gravest concerns... but there are the implications of other actions by the Grand Marshal... and by Enteskilen Mur."
"Ah, yes. Mur. For a man of religion, he seems remarkably influential in the Grand Marshal's strategic plans." Aun picked up a ceramic globe from his desk, a small white thing pierced with holes in an intricate design; he raised it to his nose, inhaled deeply, and set it down again. "But, then, our brave warriors have always gone into battle with the full support of the priesthood, have they not? How better to demonstrate the righteousness of the cause?"
"It is one thing to give blessings," said Dir. "But the god Sebreac Tharr is giving, well, practical support - not that all the gods do not give practical support, in a very real and meaningful sense," he added hastily. "Still, Sebreac Tharr seems to be...."
"More overtly involved?" Aun suggested.
"Yes. Yes. It is... of course, it is not for mere mortals to question the will of the gods... but it is... well... it is unseemly. In a god. And it is giving rise to, well, discussions. Discussions of a disquieting nature."
"Oh?" Aun raised one eyebrow.
"Quite disquieting," said Dir. "They relate to, well, to the binding compromise which has governed the priesthood for more than a century - to the benefit of everyone, I might add."
"Ah, yes," said Aun, "the compromise."
"A matter of necessity, of strict necessity," said Dir. "Historical records show, show with great clarity, the dismal state of confusion which existed in the priesthood prior to the settlement. Cults clashed with each other in the streets, vying with each other for converts, accusing each other of misrepresentation, of inflating membership numbers.... There was unrest. There was bloodshed, even. The civil authorities must bear that in mind."
"You fear that similar situations might recur, if the compromise were to be... modified?"
Dir nodded emphatically. "This is a matter which affects all of us. There are moves afoot - it has, at the very least, been mooted - that the voting rights of each sect in Conclave should be based once again on active membership. On the number of devotees who actively affirm their affiliation. Sebreac Tharr is gaining in popularity, almost hourly... and Ceamag-Tai -"
"May we hope one day to prove worthy of his blessing," murmured Aun, politely.
"Quite so. Quite. Ceamag-Tai's devotees outnumber everyone, that was the point of the compromise. It ended all competition, all uncertainty, all conflict.... The devotees of Ceamag-Tai are the great majority. But they are not, they are not active. They are in no position to affirm their devotion."
Weary of internecine strife among the religious sects, Aun recalled, a final Conclave of the cults had decided that the god of death, Ceamag-Tai, automatically counted all dead people among his worshippers. To Aun, it had always seemed a neat, almost elegant, solution. He stirred a little uneasily in his seat.
"The civil authorities cannot control the affairs of the religious caste," he said. "That would be unacceptable."
"Of course," said Dir. "I am glad to see that you realize that."
"But we may guide and advise," said Aun. "I do hope it will not be taken amiss if we offer guidance and advice. We would certainly advise against any modification of the compromise, and for the reasons you have stated."
"I am gratified to hear it," said Dir, "but it may not prove enough. There is a groundswell of opinion out there, among the religious as well as the drabs. It would be preferable if some way were found to - to rein in the Grand Marshal. His innovations - putting drabs aboard starships -"
"The military has... accepted this, in principle," said Aun. "At least temporarily. Tal needs manpower for his fleet... and, since we have thrown down the gauntlet to the Klingons, we need that fleet, and desperately."
"But it is not right," said Dir. "They are drabs, their function is to labour, it is the function the gods have allotted them, and they should be grateful. And Tal's fleet... it is effectively a means of evangelism for the cult of Sebreac Tharr. Every drab who joins it is initiated into the cult."
"Enteskilen Mur claims this to be necessary," said Aun. "The special weapons... apparently... depend upon the goodwill of the god."
"It is not right," Dir repeated. "Sebreac Tharr is an anachronism, a relic, an outdated god... a god of fire, from the days before science, from the days when people believed the gods were - well, of course, the gods are real, no one could deny that, but what I mean is - is -"
"Overt?" said Aun.
"Yes. Yes. Quite."
"Well." Aun steepled his hands again. "You have given me much to consider, Your Holiness. I must confess, I too am... concerned... about these developments."
Dir nodded vigorously, setting his elaborate headdress shaking. "I am relieved to hear that you share my misgivings."
"And yet," said Aun, "I am inclined, as ever, to take the long view. Fads, fashions, these things come and go... the broad tide of history moves on and sweeps them, eventually, into the past. The popularity of Sebreac Tharr may wane as quickly as it has waxed, you know. Besides...." He sighed. "The fact is, Gamariden Tal and his new weapons have been successful. They may very well continue to be successful. I am constrained by political realities, Your Holiness, and one such reality is... that it is very, very difficult to argue against success."
No comments:
Post a Comment