The Gate of Time

Herot said, “The tattooed symbols contain the ‘souls’. If they’re burned, the souls are free to fly up to Michilimakinak. But if they’re taken by enemies, they could be dried or preserved in alcohol. The souls would then never get to Michilimakinak.”

Two Hawks waited until Kwasind was finished. If the delay had been caused by anything but a religious custom, he would have insisted on leaving at once. In this case, it was important not to offend. To strike at a man’s religion was to strike at his basic identity.

10

The party walked northwards across the country all that day and the next. The dawn of the third, they were startled out of their sleep by the roar of many motors. Two Hawks crawled to the edge of the hollow in which they were hidden and looked down the slope of the hill at the road a quartermile below. It was crowded with a column of armored cars and trucks pulling ca

“Itskapintik,” Ilmika said behind him. “They must finally be invading Hotinohsonih. We’ve known for some time that Perkunisha was trying to persuade the Itskapintik to join them. They’ve promised half of Hotinohsonih to them.”

Two Hawks watched the stream of men, weapons, supplies, and vehicles roar by. The features of the soldiers under the round steel helmets somewhat resembled those of the Mexican Indians of Earth 1, although the skin was lighter.

All day, the column rode by. The watchers from the hill dozed and took turns guarding. They did not dare to venture out in the light, even in the woods, because there were patrols in the countryside. When dusk came, they resumed their march. The next day, Aelwin Graenfield, the sick Blondlandish, could not get up. Weakly, he urged the others to leave him behind. They would not hear of it. He continued to get worse and by dawn was dead.

They placed his body in a shallow grave scooped out with knives. Herot conducted the services, which consisted of a prayer by the Blodlandish as they circled sunwise around the open grave and dropped a fistful of dirt on the body at the bottom. Two Hawks stood with bowed head but watched the proceedings. The Blodlandish, like all west Europeans, subscribed to the same religion. This had been founded only a thousand years ago by a man named Hemilka. Inspired by a revelation, he had renounced the worship of the old gods and proposed to replace it with a monotheism. He had been martyred—suspended from a rope by one leg and both legs broken and then left to hang until he died from pain, thirst, and exposure. This was a form of execution for heretics, a form which had died out only seventy-five years ago.

After Hemilka’s death, his disciples had scattered to escape the same punishment and also to spread his message. Eventually, Hemilkism triumphed, as the Christianity of Earth 1 had won after a long period of persecution.

There were many parallels to Christianity in Hemilkism: salvation for all who believed in Hemilka, his virgin birth, a heaven, a hell, and a limbo for virtuous pre-Hemilka pagans. There was also a doctrine much like that which the Mormons held, baptism of the dead.

Two Hawks explained the history and tenets of the religion to O’Brien. The sergeant was especially interested and proud that Earth 2’s Christ had been an Irishman.

“It’s quite a coincidence,” Two Hawks said, “that the great western religions of our Earth were founded by Semites. Judaism and Christianity by the Jews and Islam by an Arab who took much of his religion from the previous faiths. But here...”

“A mick is God’s only son, not a Hebe,” O’Brien said. “Didn’t you say he was born in Ireland! And who was his mother? Surely, she was Irish, too.”

“Curiously enough, she was named Meryam,” Two Hawks said.

Graenfield’s body was covered with dirt, and they got ready to take up the march. It was then that the Itskapintik police rose from behind the trees where they had been observing the ceremony.

There were six, all with single-shot rifles, and ready to fire if the others did not lay down their arms.

The policemen bound the hands of the captives behind them. A small boy, the farmer’s son who had reported them to the police, stood proudly to one side.

The chief of the police, a short dark man with a big mouth full of very large protruding teeth, leered at Ilmika. The bound captives could do nothing but stand as passive witnesses to what followed.

Suddenly, O’Brien, who had turned pale and started breathing like a winded horse, gave a whoop and ran forward, escaping the butt of the rifle swung at him. He covered the few yards between the prisoners and the police before the latter were aware of what was happening. He leaped into the air, bent his knees, and then kicked straight out. The policeman, bending over Ilmika, heard the warning shouts of the others and turned. His chin took the impact of both of O’Brien’s hard-driven boots. There was a crack as of a stick breaking, and he flipped onto his back.

O’Brien slammed hard onto his back. His arms, tied behind him, took the brunt of the fall. He cried out with pain and rolled over and tried to struggle to his feet. A rifle butt cracked against the back of his head; he pitched forward on his face. The man who had struck O’Brien reversed his rifle and shot him in the back of his neck. O’Brien straightened out, quivered, and was still.

The Itskapintik whom O’Brien had kicked was also dead, his jaw shattered and neck broken. Furious, the police began to beat the prisoners. Two Hawks was knocked to the ground by a rifle butt slammed into his shoulder. He was then kicked in the ribs twice. Another boot-toe driven into the side of his head stu

Their fury finally vented, the police quit. They talked violently among themselves for a while. The prisoners groaned or moaned or lay mute and motionless. The most brutally beaten, Herot, vomited through lips torn by a gun butt. Blood and teeth poured out on the ground.

Two Hawks could not think straight for a while. His head felt as if a hot spike had been driven into it, and his shoulder ached like a rotten tooth. Later, he figured out why O’Brien had acted so suicidally. The sergeant had been slowly dying ever since he had learned that he was cut off forever from his native world. A deep grief has possessed him, one so piercing that his will to live poured out through the skin of his soul. And so he had deliberately caused his own death. It was an act of bravery and gallantry and thus did not look to the others as self-murder. And he had struck back at this world.

Another blow to him, perhaps the most wounding of all, had been the knowledge that his religion did not exist here. He could not attend mass or confess. He would die with no chance of last unction or of being buried in holy ground.

O’Brien’s act was not entirely in vain. It had taken the interest away from Ilmika. The chief growled an order. Dazedly, Ilmika struggled to her feet and submitted to having her hands retied.

Herot quit vomiting. He got to his feet and resumed talking to the chief. The Itskapintik told him to shut up, and when Herot continued, the chief placed the muzzle of his revolver against Herot’s stomach. The Blodlandish was either out of his mind with grief and pain or else a very brave man who was not going to back down for anybody. From Herot’s tone, Two Hawks was sure that a good part of his talking was invective. He expected the chief to blow Herot’s guts out. The chief only gri