The Broken God by David Zindell Page A

from the rest of the animal kingdom.'
    Danlo nodded his head, though he didn't believe that Old Father really understood the only human language that mattered. Certainly man was of the animal kingdom; the essence of the Song of Life was man's connectedness to all the things of the world. But man was that which may not be hunted, and only man could anticipate the great journey to the other side of day. Men prayed for the spirits of the animals they killed; animals didn't pray for men. 'You are a Fravashi? From another world? Another star? Then it is true, the lights in the sky burn with life! Life lives among the stars, yes?'
    'So, it's so. There is life on many planets,' Old Father corrected. 'How is it that you weren't certain of this?'
    Danlo brushed his knuckles against the rug's soft wool. His face was hot with shame; suddenly he hated that he seemed to know so little and everyone else so much.
    'Where do you come from, Danlo?'
    In a soft voice, which broke often from the strain of remembering painful things, Danlo told of his journey across the ice. He did not tell of the slow evil and the death of his people because he was afraid for Old Father to know that the Devaki had been touched with shaida.
    Old Father closed his eyes for a while as he listened. He opened them and looked up through the skylight. Danlo thought there was something strange about his consciousness. It seemed to soar like a flock of kitikeesha, to divide and regroup without warning and change directions as if pursued by a snowy owl.
    'Ahhh, that is a remarkable story,' Old Father said at last.
    'I am sorry I rose my spear to you, sir. I might have killed you, and this would have been a very bad thing because you seem as mindful and aware as a man.'
    'Thank you,' Old Father said. 'Oh ho, I have the awareness of a man – this is a rare compliment indeed, thank you!'
    'You are welcome,' Danlo said very seriously. He hadn't yet developed an ear for Fravashi sarcasm, and in his naive way, he accepted Old Father's words without looking for hidden meaning. 'You seem as aware as a man,' he repeated, 'and yet, on the beach, you made no move to defend yourself. Nor did you seem afraid.'
    'Would you really have killed me?'
    'I was very hungry.'
    'Oh ho!' Old Father said, 'there is an old, old rule: even though you would kill me, I may not kill you. The rule of ahimsa. It is better to die oneself than to kill. So, it's so: never killing, never. Never killing or hurting another, not even in your thoughts.'
    'But, sir, the animals were made for hunting. When there is hunger, it is good to kill – even the animals know this.'
    'Is that true?'
    Danlo nodded his head with certainty. 'If there were no killing, the world would be too full of animals, and soon there would be no animals anywhere because they would all starve.'
    Old Father closed both eyes then quickly opened them. He looked across the room at one of his shelves of musical instruments. As he appeared to study a collection of wooden flutes which looked similar to Danlo's shakuhachi, he said, 'Danlo the Wild – if you really lived among the Alaloi, you're well named.'
    'I was born into the Devaki tribe.'
    'I've heard of the Devaki. They're Alaloi, like the other tribes even further to the west, isn't that true?'
    'Why should I lie to you?'
    Old Father looked at him and smiled. 'It's known that when the ancestors of the Alaloi first came to this world, they carked themselves, their flesh. Ah ha, carked every part into the shape of very ancient, primitive human beings called Neanderthals.'
    'Neanderthals?'
    'The Alaloi have hairy bodies like Neanderthals, muscles and bones as thick as yu trees, faces like granite mountains, ah ho! You will forgive me if I observe that you don't look very much like a Neanderthal.'
    Danlo didn't understand what Old Father meant by 'cark'. How, he wondered, could anyone change the shape of his body? And weren't the Devaki of the world? Hadn't they emerged from the Great Womb of