Small Gods

‘Not yield. Bargain. Deal with me in weakness. Or one day you’ll have to bargain with someone in a position of strength. The world changes.’

XIX. Hah! You Want A Constitutional Religion?

‘Why not? The other sort didn’t work.’

Om leaned on the Temple, his temper subsiding.

Chap. II v. I. Very Well, Then. But Only For A Time. A grin spread across the enormous, smoking face. For One Hundred Years, Yes?

‘And after a hundred years?’

II. We Shall See.

‘Agreed.’

A finger the length of a tree unfolded, descended, touched Brutha.

III. You Have A Persuasive Way. You Will Need It. A Fleet Approaches.

‘Ephebians?’ said Simony.

IV. And Tsorteans. And Djelibeybians. And Klatchians. Every Free Country Along The Coast. To Stamp Out Omnia For Good. Or Bad.

‘You don’t have many friends, do you?’ said Urn.

‘Even I don’t like us much, and I am us,’ said Simony. He looked up at the god.

‘Will you help?’

V. You Don’t Even Believe In Me!

‘Yes, but I’m a practical man.’

VI. And Brave, Too, To Declare Atheism Before Your God.

‘This doesn’t change anything, you know!’ said Simony. ‘Don’t think you can get round me by existing!’

‘No help,’ said Brutha, firmly.

‘What?’ said Simony. ‘We’ll need a mighty army against that lot!’

‘Yes. And we haven’t got one. So we’ll do it another way.’

‘You’re crazy!’

Brutha’s calmness was like a desert.

‘This may be the case.’

‘We have to fight!’

‘Not yet.’

Simony clenched his fists in anger.

‘Look … listen … We died for lies, for centuries we died for lies.’ He waved a hand towards the god. ‘Now we’ve got a truth to die for!’

‘No. Men should die for lies. But the truth is too precious to die for.’

Simony’s mouth opened and shut soundlessly as he sought for words. Finally, he found some from the dawn of his education.

‘I was told it was the finest thing to die for a god,’ he mumbled.

‘Vorbis said that. And he was … stupid. You can die for your country or your people or your family, but for a god you should live fully and busily, every day of a long life.’

‘And how long is that going to be?’

‘We shall see.’

Brutha looked up at Om.

‘You will not show yourself like this again?’

Chap. III v. I. No. Once Is Enough.

‘Remember the desert.’

II. I Will Remember.

‘Walk with me.’

Brutha went over to the body of Vorbis and picked it up.

‘I think’, he said, ‘that they will land on the beach on the Ephebian side of the forts. They won’t use the rock shore and they can’t use the cliffs. I’ll meet them there.’ He glanced down at Vorbis. ‘Someone should.’

‘You can’t mean you want to go by yourself?’

‘Ten thousand won’t be sufficient. One might be enough.’

He walked down the steps.

Urn and Simony watched him go.

‘He’s going to die,’ said Simony. ‘He won’t even be a patch of grease on the sand.’ He turned to Om. ‘Can you stop him?’

III. It May Be That I Cannot.

Brutha was already halfway across the Place.

‘Well, we’re not deserting him,’ said Simony.

IV. Good.

Om watched them go, too. And then he was alone, except for the thousands watching him, crammed around the edges of the great square. He wished he knew what to say to them. That’s why he needed people like Brutha. That’s why all gods needed people like Brutha.

‘Excuse me?’

The god looked down.

V. Yes?

‘Um. I can’t sell you anything, can I?’

VI. What Is Your Name?

‘Dhblah, god.’

VII. Ah, Yes. And What Is It You Wish?

The merchant hopped anxiously from one foot to the other.

‘You couldn’t manage just a small commandment? Something about eating yoghurt on Wednesdays, say? It’s always very difficult to shift, midweek.’

VIII. You Stand Before Your God And Look For Business Opportunities?

‘We-ell,’ said Dhblah, ‘we could come to an arrangement. Strike while the iron is hot, as the inquisitors say. Haha. Twenty per cent? How about it? After expenses, of course—’

The Great God Om smiled.

IX. I Think You Will Make A Little Prophet, Dhblah, he said.

‘Right. Right. That’s all I’m looking for. Just trying to make both ends hummus.’^{78}

X. Tortoises Are To Be Left Alone.

Dhblah put his head on one side.

‘Doesn’t sing, does it?’ he said. ‘But … tortoise necklaces … hmm … brooches, of course. Tortoiseshel—’

XI. NO!