In the Heart of Darkness

Sanga did not understand the term "computer," though he sensed that Link itself bore its likeness. The rest—a question came to his mind.

What are they called?

"WE HAVE NO NAME FOR THEM BEYOND MONSTERS. THEIR CRYSTALS CALL THE ABOMINATIONS WHO CREATED THEM `THE GREAT ONES.' "

What do these—"Great Ones"—call themselves?

Hesitation, for the first time. Reluctance? Sanga wondered.

"THEY CALL THEMSELVES PEOPLE."

And what do they call their crystal creatures?

Definite hesitation. Not reluctance, Sanga realized. Ultimate—distaste.

"THEY CALL THEM PEOPLE."

When Rana Sanga came back to his senses, he realized that very little time had passed. The Great Lady Holi and Sati were still seated before him, quietly, their hands in their laps.

"Now you understand, Rana Sanga," said Sati softly. "Enough, at least."

Sanga opened his mouth, closed it. He had been about to protest that he understood very little. Certainly not enough. But he sensed there was no point in such a protest. Besides, he had given his oath. That, at least, he did understand.

Again, Great Lady Holi seemed to read his mind. But, to Sanga's relief, when she spoke her voice had resumed a shell of humanity.

"You do not need to understand more, Rana Sanga," said Link's vessel. "Not now, at least."

Stubborn pride rose in the Rajput.

"Why did you come here? To this—to our time?"

"Analysis showed this was the optimum time and place to change history. That task is very difficult, Rana Sanga. History is like a great river. Its currents cannot be dammed. They will simply spill over the levees. A new channel must be dug. A wide, deep, great channel. That task is very hard. The new gods determined that this was the optimum period for making the sharp change needed in humanity's course. Perhaps the only moment when it would be possible."

Stubborn:

"Why?"

"Because in this historical era both of humanity's possible futures exist at the same time. For the only time in history when both could be changed simultaneously. The seed of humanity's actual destruction lies in that abomination called Rome. The seed of its potential glory lies in Malwa India."

Stubborn, still:

"Why?"

"The true future lies here, because only in ancient India did humanity begin to grope toward that truth. What you call the varna and the caste system. Your conceptions are mired in superstition and ignorance, but your crude understanding provides the framework for beginning the necessary eugenics program which will preserve the human race. That is why, despite their limitations, we have maintained the Malwa lineage intact, and are shaping everything around that seed. In the Malwa of today, you see only the most primitive germ of the future. But in the end, after millenia of careful genetic management, the new gods will emerge. Not the handful of this time, of this polluted future, but the mighty host of the true future we will create."

Sati interrupted, coldly:

"And that is also why, despite Rajput abilities, we have kept the Rajputs subordinate. Of all human vices, none is so insidious and destructive as the blind worship of ability. That way lies abomination."

The Great Lady Holi resumed:

"Rome is where that pollution originated. Or, at least, sank its deepest roots in ancient history. True, other dangerous times and places existed, even in ancient time. We will deal with them soon enough. We will bridle China, for instance, long before the Sung dynasty and its mandarinate disease can even emerge.

"But Rome—Rome—that is the great enemy. That is where the great stain first polluted a fourth of the planet. And spread from there, like a disease, in the centuries to come. A latent disease, often enough, endemic rather than epidemic. But always there, that legacy, always ready to rise anew.

"Rome. That monstrous realm of mongrels. That absurd so-called empire where any man can call himself a Roman, and demand the protection of Roman law, as if he shared the true Latin lineage. Where no emperor can trace his royal genotype beyond two generations. Where any barbarian can dream of being emperor. Any miscegenate peasant—like the one who now wears the purple. Where any polluted whore can sit the throne next to him, and receive the honors of the true-born. Ability, in Rome, is all that counts, in the end. It is that worship of ability over purity that will destroy humanity. That unbridled, undisciplined, genetic chaos will ravage this planet and a thousand others. And it will leave, in the end, nothing but inhuman monsters to pollute the universe."

Again, Sati intervened.