Fall; or, Dodge in Hell - Neal Stephenson Page 0,266

by smoke from the fire. Had it been cleaner it might have resembled the garments worn by some of El’s host.

“We did not bring any wood for your fire,” said Adam, “only because we did not understand the need for it until we had reached the place where there was no more to be had.”

“That is perfectly all right! El will take no offense!” said the man in the robe. “Particularly as I see you have brought with you a flock of new souls—a gift much more pleasing to him than fuel for his eternal fire.”

“They are not ours to give,” Eve said. “They merely followed us.”

“Such as these come from all around,” said the man, “but rarely so many at once. El has blessed you, it would seem, with some power of drawing them forth.”

“In the land to the east we sometimes saw them headed this way,” Adam said, “but never understood why.”

“Well, now understanding is yours!” the man said, with a nod at the tower. “Praise El.”

“Is it?” Eve asked. “We see them and we see your tower with its hungry flame but my curiosity remains unsatisfied as to what happens to such new souls once they have reached this place.”

“Well then, come and see! Come and see!” said the man, and beckoned them forward. “I am Looks East and I am the first priest here.”

Adam and Eve each stated their own name, since apparently this was the done thing when souls met each other. “We don’t know the meaning of ‘priest’ or what would make you first among such,” said Eve. She looked around out of habit, expecting to see Mab, who frequently supplied them with explanations, but the sprite was nowhere to be seen.

“It simply means that I carry in my head much knowledge concerning El, and that I make it my business to explain such matters to the other souls who find their way to the kirk.” As he spoke that unfamiliar word he nodded toward the white tower, which they had almost reached.

“Do you speak to El frequently then?” asked Adam, and exchanged a look with Eve. Both had the same thought: perhaps this Lookseast had heard their story directly from El or one of his angels.

Lookseast seemed confused by the question. “No, of course not, if you mean the sort of speaking we are doing now. That’s not El’s way. Perhaps it was thus in the age before the Trek, but there are few who remember those times.”

“We are not familiar with the Trek,” said Eve.

“Oh. It is how Elkirk came to be,” said Lookseast. “In olden times, all the souls dwelled together in peace and harmony at the base of El’s palace. While El was away tending to some other matters, the Usurper took power for a time. He was a cruel sort, of great power, who hurled thunderbolts from the Palace. All the souls who dwelled below dispersed in terror of his rages. Our forebears trekked westward across the grassland and crossed the river and settled in the valley you see below, where they were sheltered from the Usurper’s wrath. But later El came and flung the Usurper and his minions into the sky and rebuilt the Palace as you see it today. We built the kirk here upon this high place so that El and his angels can look down upon it from their seat in the clouds and know that we revere him.”

Adam and Eve followed Lookseast into the chamber that occupied most of the building’s lowest story. This was square, plain, and empty save for two effigies made out of stone. One was male and the other female. They had the same general number and arrangement of limbs, extremities, and external organs as Adam and Eve, or, for that matter, El himself.

Adam and Eve were silent for a while as they contemplated these.

“Lo, these are the forms that El in his wisdom ordained for us. New souls are drawn to this place by the light of the fire. Here they contemplate these forms and shape themselves accordingly, each choosing the male or the female type as it suits their nature.”

Seeing now more clearly as their eyes adjusted to the dimness, Adam and Eve detected many auras in the room, some larger and better formed, others small and indistinct. They were not scattered about the place but instead surrounded the effigies in a broad ring, as if they were all gazing inward. In the moments after Adam and Eve