I lifted my head, looking out over that strange, strange view, and Kullervo's lines from The Kalevala sprang into my mind. I chanted them aloud, hoping the sound would make me feel better:
It worked. just the sound of a human voice helped, even if it was my own-and the feeling of kinship, the knowledge that somebody else had felt this way before, somewhere, somewhen, and that a lot of other people had to have felt the same way, too, to keep that verse alive down the centuries. I wasn't a total oddball, and I wasn't completely alone. Culture can be a great consolation.
Consolation enough to put some spirit back into me. I straightened up, squaring my shoulders, and set off again. Light blossomed-an actinic, piercing light that seemed to lance though my eyes.
I fell back, raising a forearm to protect them. Panic surged through me-the only thing I'd ever heard of that made sudden light like that was a from .
But there was no explosion. Instead, I seemed to hear, very faintly, the sound of a chiming gong-but it could have been imagination.
In fact, it had to be-and so did the strange, vague, anthropomorphic shape at the center of that light burst, where the glare was strongest. As I watched, it coalesced, becoming clearer and more humanlike.
Then I caught my breath. It had turned into the shape of a young man, swallowing up all the light so that it still shone faintly, even though I could see through him. just barely.
He wore a glowing robe, and there was a shimmering behind him, a suggestion of huge folded wings-and his face was very severe. No. It couldn't be. An angel?
"I am even so," the being responded, "and the one who hath known thee even since the day of thy birth, Saul."
Well. That brought me back to my senses, a little. "If you've known me that long," I said, "how come I've never seen you before?"
"In that dull world to which thou wert born, naught of the spirit can be seen, save to those few souls that do glow with goodness. Here, though, the world of the spirit is open to men, if they do but seek. "
"World?" I frowned. "You mean I'm in a totally different world from the one I've lived in all my life?" Somehow, that didn't seem like news.
"Even so," the angel agreed, but he was still frowning. Then the other part of his message registered.
"But," I said, "I'm not particularly interested in the world of the spirit."
"How little thou dost know thyself, Saul! And how greatly dost thou seek to hide thine own nature from thyself. Thou hast ever been preoccupied with the things of the spirit, and 'tis even thy aching search for truth that hath led thee away from the churches of men."
I just stood there for a second while that sank in. Then I said, "I thought you boys were supposed to think the churches had a monopoly on truth."
"The religions they serve have truth within them, and therefore do the churches, also-yet the folk who constitute each church are but human, and as fallible as any among thee. How intolerant art thou, to excuse thine own failings and condemn them for theirs!" I lifted my head in indignation. "I haven't condemned anybody!"
"Hast thou not turned from them because thou hast judged them to be hypocrites? Yet surely thou must needs see that their fait is a striving after perfection."
I nodded, not following.
"Therefore, if they do strive for perfection, they cannot already have attained it."
"Now, wait a minute!" I held up a hand, seeing where he was going.
"Thou hast learned it," he said, nodding. "If they are thou canst not blame them for their imperfections." not perfect.
"But I haven't judged anybody!"
"Hast thou not but now judged even thy Creator? Hast thou not blamed Him for creating thee doomed to loneliness?"
"Oh," I said. "That's what brought you here."
"Even so," the angel confirmed. "In this world-nay, this universe-prayers are answered more obviously than in thine own, and verses are prayers, or petitions to the Adversary." Suddenly, I was very glad I hadn't sung "Sympathy for the Devil." Then the rest of what he'd said sank in. I frowned. "What do you mean, 'this universe'?"
"Hast thou not perceived it with thy vaunted reason?" he taunted.
"Thou art no longer in the universe of thy birth. Thou hast been transported to another, in which magic rules, and physics is superstition."
I stared.
"Yet the God of All is the One God here, as well as in thy home," the angel said inexorably, "and of all the universes that be; for 'tis He who made them, and doth maintain them by the force of His will. It is this mighty and majestic God whom thou dost blame for thine own failings! "
"But I wasn't talking about the judae or Christian Creator," I objected. "I was reciting a quotation from the Finnish national epic! If you want to look for the 'creator' I was talking about, go look among the gods of the Finns! Besides, I didn't even make a statement! I just asked a question!"
The angel waved the objection away with an impatient gesture.
"'Tis immaterial. Thou art in a universe in which the only true Creator is Jehovah, and thou must needs align thyself either with God, or with the Devil."
"Are you trying to say God didn't make me to be lonely?"
"Nay, nor to wander. If thou dost lack friends and home, that is the consequence of thine own deeds and choices. If thou dost not wish it so, thou canst choose otherwise."
I frowned. "Choose to go back to my own world?"
"Even that, though thou shalt have to seek the means, and labor long and hard to earn or learn the way. Yet I spoke more of thy grieving for friends and place."
"I've been looking for friends all my life!"
"They have been there," the angel said inexorably. "Thou hadst but to live as they did, to learn their ways and follow them."
"Wait a minute! You're saying that if I wanted to be part of a group, I had to do as everybody in that group did? "
"Thou hadst need to abide by their rules," the angel said. "There are many such that I have rejoiced to see thee turn away from-yet there were others who were good folk, whose customs thou didst dis dam. "
I remembered the kids in grade school, who thought fighting and sports were everything. "Damn right!"
The angel's face flared in wrath. I shrank back. "Uh, sorry, there. Darn right."
He diminished to a slow burn.
I collected the pieces of my wits and said, "They were so phony! And their standards were, too! Thinking that how well you could hit a ball really mattered!"
"It did," the angel said, "to them."
"Not to me! Reading books counted! Knowledge counted!"
"Thus thy books meant more to thee than friendship. Thou hadst made thy choice; thou hadst small room to rail 'gainst God."
"Oh, yes I did! I should've been able to have friends and books other kids who liked to read, liked to learn! Then I would have been part of a group! We might even have learned how to play baseball together!"
"Dost thou not wish to be rare?"
"No!" I exploded, and was shocked to hear myself say it-but I'd worked up too much momentum to be able to stop. "I'd love to be normal! To have friends! To be a social animal! And I tried! I did learn their ways, at least a little bit-but it was too late! I couldn't acquire the instinct! And they knew I was faking!"