"Yes, in a way. This is a Naga, a snake spirit. One of the older of the demons. And this one is itself very old. Look at the fine detail. You can see the eyes and eyelids, the mouth and nostrils, even though it is very small. Even the scales of the tail are individually carved. Yes, this one is very old. Later carvings are simpler, more stylized." He turned it over in his hands, regarding it with keen scrutiny. "Where did you get it?"
"It was found in the room of a friend," said Adjani vaguely.
"I see-you do not wish me to know." Chetti shrugged. "All right. But whatever you do, don't lose this. It is a very valuable piece."
"Tell us about the Nagas," suggested Spence. The scholar's words had struck a responsive chord in him.
Chetti settled back in his chair and laced his fingers together. "I would happily tell you all I know; the problem is where to start. It is a very long, confusing story. But I will try to make it understandable."
He launched in at once.
"India is an ancient country of years beyond counting. The peculiar cultures of many peoples have mingled together over time, like the waters of streams flowing to a central river, and have created what is India today.
"But it is still possible to take short trips back along some of these tributaries, although many of them are lost to us forever. Such are the Nagas. Little is known now about where the belief came from. It may have originated almost spontaneously among many of the hill tribes of northern India.
"The mountains of the Himalaya were looked upon by these ancient people as the homes of gods and demons and other strange beings. They believed that in the high hills and among the snowcapped mountain peaks magic cities lay hidden from mortal eyes. The gods lived in these cities and went about their own business, for the most part staying away from men.
"There were three main groups. The Nagas, or snake spirits, dwelt in an underground city called Bhogavati and there guarded great treasures. They were usually represented as at least half human. They seemed to have special protective powers, possibly owing to their function as guardians.
"Then there were the Vidyadharas, or heavenly magicians. These created the magic cites of the high Himalayas and could fly through the air and transform themselves at will. Little is known about them; they had little to do with men.
"But some were more approachable by human beings; they were called the Rsis, or Seers. These were legendary wise men. Some say they were at one time mortals who became so wise that they were translated into heaven to become gods. Other accounts state that they were leaders of the Vidyadharas who could be petitioned by men in times of trouble, or who appeared during special times set aside for the purpose of teaching or instructing men in better ways of living.
"There have been many Rsis – the word now applies to anyone who is thought to possess great powers of magic or psychic ability. But the original Seven Rsis are thought to be the very ancestors of all the gods, and men too. They are mentioned by name: Marici, Atri, Angiras, Pulastya, Pulaha, Kratu, and Vasistha. They came from heaven and built the magic cities to live in because they liked the Earth, having watched it from afar.
"The leader of the Wise Ones was a Rsi called Brasputi. He is a strange figure in the old legends-almost never represented in carvings or painting, and then in an odd, misshapen way – long arms and three-fingered hands. It was he who led the gods to the high mountains-they came in the fantastic vimana; that is, their aerial car-and who founded the philosophy of their civilization. That is to say he handed down the laws of government among the gods. He is the only one to be identified by a sign in the sky-one of the planets. Probably Jupiter or Mars. And Brasputi it is who rules the demons of the hills, although this was added perhaps much later."
Spence sat spellbound as Adjani's father talked. The names fell to his ear with an exotic, otherworldy ring. He visualized a time back in the dim and misty past of a newborn world where these beings walked and held commerce with men who worshiped them as gods. But there was also a strong suggestion of something else in his mind, which Chetti's words called up from his own, more recent past.
"What's the matter?" asked Adjani, studying his friend closely. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Not a ghost-a god." Spence shook himself out of his thought. The next instant he was standing before them, eyes burning with excitement. "It fits! It all fits! How could I have missed it?"
"Missed what?"
"Adjani, I have something to tell you. If I had told you sooner, maybe we wouldn't be in this mess right now. I haven't told you all that happened to me on Mars."
"Oh? There's more?"
"Adjani, you haven't heard the half of it."
… … ..KALITRI.. … …
1
…
SPENCE FELT AS IF he had entered The Land That Time Forgot. India, apart from the glassy modern cities of the western coast and southern interior, was largely a country where poverty and population had united to halt the wheels of progress and even rock them backward a few paces.
It was a land retreating back into the past-almost as fast as the rest of the world advanced.
Spence found the contrast between the crumbling cities and ragged people and his own ultra-advanced space station too hard to reconcile. The foreignness astounded him, numbed him. He resented it, resented the screaming populace that reeked of stale sweat, urine, and other basic human smells. He resented their poverty and blamed them for their lack, although intellectually he admitted that one could not blame the patient for the effects of his disease. Still, his first reaction was a smoldering malice against a people who could allow themselves to sink so far.
In this reaction he was no different from the millions who had gone before him, and millions more who still held the blight of India against India herself.
The rocketplane ride into Calcutta had not prepared him for the scene that would greet him upon landing. He had felt the thrust of the rocket engines and endured the g-forces of takeoff. The plane rose to its peak altitude within ten minutes and began its gliding descent. Out of the small round window he saw the blue-black sky devoid of clouds above him and the crisp crescent curve of the Earth's turquoise horizon. He had placed his palm against the window and felt the heat from the friction of the air moving over the skin of the plane. Then they dropped out of the sky in the steep landing glide to roll to a stop outside a skyport like any other skyport the world over.
Upon emerging from the boarding tube the shock of India hit him hard. One moment Spence had been comfortable amid familIar surroundings, the next plunged into a churning mass of backward humanity. The effect could not have been more startling if he stepped out of a time machine into the Stone Age.
"What now?" he asked Adjani in a bewildered tone.
"Are you all right, my friend?"
"No, but I'll get used to it." Spence stared dully at the chaos around him-diminutive travelers scurried like cockroaches all over the dilapidated terminal. The din was a muffled roar.
"Follow me," instructed Adjani. He began plowing through the crush as a man wading through floodwaters. "I'll get us out here."
"In one piece, I hope," said Spence. His remark was lost in the havoc.
Adjani hailed a rickshaw outside the terminal and bundled Spence into it. He yelled something unintelligible to the driver and, with a creak and a sway and a clang of a bell, they were off, worming through the snarled traffic around the skyport.
If Spence's first glimpse of India shocked him, the view from the rickshaw crawling along the rutted streets sickened him.