Omega (6) "Do you work in business yourself?" "I own many companies in the City and abroad. I own a hotel, a chain of restaurants, several factories and shares in shipping, insurance and defence. But while Her Maphrodite's government dithers and flounders, I will never get the planning permission I need to modernise Gotesdene. Perhaps after the General Election there will be more decisiveness and direction. And then Gotesdene will no longer be dismissed as a primitive Anglo-Saxon theme park, but will be recognised as a modern, thriving community!" The White Elephant shook his large ears and I followed him as he strode away from the market through the dusty streets, past obsequious peasants to the stone cross in the common land. We sheltered under the shade of the massive overwhelming oak trees whose bark was protected from vandalism by vicious spikes forced into the trunk. The cross was exquisitely ornate depicting an elephant heroically brandishing a sword in his trunk. "So, young man, what finds you in our village so far from the Suburbs?" the White Elephant asked. I told him of my quest for the Truth. "I believe I should be flattered by the notion that the Truth abides in Gotesdene," laughed the White Elephant. "I know that many have admired the village, but you are the first I have heard of to come this way on such a quest. But mayhap in a community such as this, unpolluted by the vices and vagaries of modern irreligious heresy, the Truth you are looking for may indeed be found." "The Truth is here! What is it?" I asked enthusiastically. "The Truth is balance and order. It is respect for the Lord and the world that He has graciously created for us. And that essential Truth is manifest in the elements of Earth, Fire, Air and Water. It is these to which the universe is essentially reducible." The White Elephant waved his trunk around at the village. "Everything here is composed of these Four Elements, myself included. They govern the World physically and spiritually, proportioned by the mystical qualities of numbers. Numbers are the Universe's abstract foundations. The smaller the Number, the more potent. The number One is the Universe and all in it. Two is the manifest division between the Spiritual and the Material. Three is the Trinity of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. Three is also the number of times which something need be said to be known as the Truth. And Four is the number of the Elements. "From the Four Elements are derived the Four Humours which govern the Soul of each individual. Just as a person is the physical union of matter, energy, water and oxygen so his Soul is governed by different proportions of the Spiritual Qualities of these Elements. There are, in addition, the Five Senses, the thrice Six which is the Number of the Beast, the Seven Sins, the Twelve Houses of the Heavens and the Twenty-Four Hours of the Day. All in its natural and God-given place in the Universe. "The Truth is but the balance and order in which God has invested the Universe, and it is the Duty of all to ensure that this balance is undisturbed by proboscidean, artiodactyl nor human endeavour. Nothing hastens more the Chaos and Destruction of the End than the rejection and perversion of the Natural Order by which the Truth is made manifest." "How is the Truth perverted?" I wondered. "In many ways. By the practice of perversions which transgress the Natural Order such as Sodomy, Heresy and Witchcraft. These must be suppressed with extreme prejudice, or, as surely as Three is the Number of the Lord, the Natural Order will unravel, power will be wrested by foreign despots, laws will be disregarded, monsters will yet again roam the Earth and the Heavens will open! "The good people of Gotesdene strive hard to keep Satan at bay," continued the White Elephant indicating the stocks and the gallows with a wave of his trunk. "Here is where transgressors are purged of their sins. And if the Soul is to be purged from the Body to achieve its Salvation, then that is a sacrifice worth making. Gotesdene has a long and proud tradition of suppressing Witchcraft, and I speak proudly when I say that no Witch who is accused is ever found other than guilty and punished accordingly. Does this not compare well with the pusillanimity of Justice elsewhere which so frequently permits Witches to wander free spreading their vice, perversion, magic and heterodoxy?" "How are Witches punished?" I wondered, looking nervously at the scaffold. "Not all Witches are hanged," the White Elephant sighed. "For many it is felt that there is opportunity for redemption, and if it be that their confessions of guilt are sufficiently sincere and detailed they may suffer only a whipping or the stocks. This is especially so if they are young and pretty, because if the exterior is fair then the interior cannot all be rotten. But occasionally a Witch will join the Homosexual, the Murderer or the Heretic on the platform with the noose around the neck. These occasions are a public event, where all can learn from seeing the ignominious end others come to and will reflect on their own transgressions. This is not, I believe, how Justice is conducted in the Suburbs?" "No," I admitted. "It's a much more complicated procedure - and many of the things you mention are not illegal at all!" "When the Day of Judgement comes," the White Elephant bellowed, "it will surely visit the most ills on those who treat the Natural Order with not so much contempt as indifference. Much as I admire the progress and order of the Suburbs, there are many features I find alarming. These are so much in conflict with the Truth that I marvel not that you should feel the need to leave the Suburbs to seek the Truth elsewhere. All are treated equally in the Suburbs: Women as equals with Men, the Poor as with the Rich, the Believer as with the Unbeliever. How can this be right? When God created the Natural Order, He didn't do so only that places such as the Suburbs and the City should disregard it and substitute a New Order of their own invention. When Progress and Modernity are established in Gotesdene, it will not be to subvert the Natural Order, but to reinforce it. To ensure that it is followed by all." "However," continued the White Elephant reflectively, "the Suburbs have but little sin and vice when compared to the City, where I have been many times and have been many times appalled. From the virtue and decency of the village of Gotesdene, through the indifference to vice and the Truth in the Suburbs, to the depravity and decadence of the City is painted a triptych of the ethics of Heaven, Limbo and Hell. In the City, there is no limit to what is permitted and practised. There are no moral constraints. No regard for the Natural Order. Indeed, the practice of vice at its most vicious, sin at its most sinful and decadence at its most despicable. Have you ever been to the City?" "No, not once," I admitted. "Perhaps, then, there is hope for you yet," snorted the White Elephant. "In the City, there is no likelihood that you will ever find the Truth for which you quest. Indeed, there is complete absence of the Truth. The City is a Hell of fast-moving traffic on many-laned motorways; buildings which scrape the very roof of the sky; frantic and hectic activity; ceaseless noise and light; a wind that pursues the innocent pedestrian as he walks between the towering buildings. In all directions the City spreads out, enclosing pockets of green, whereas Gotesdene is a village enclosed by countless green acres. There is nothing but concrete and steel; petrol fumes and neon lights; people coming and people going. Not, as in Gotesdene, merely being: they restlessly move from one place to another. And so many of them!" "The City is very big, is it?" "It is tall. It is wide. It houses many millions. It is the economic, financial, political, social and cultural capital of this land, and also the nation's whorehouse, bordello and opium den. It is also very expensive. In Gotesdene, the possessor of a guinea is a rich man. He has enough to live for a long time on one single guinea, which composes two hundred and fifty-two pennies! A fortune! That is over a thousand farthings! In the City, a guinea is but what a farthing is here. Perhaps less! But despite the expense and the hideous environment and the loathsome depravity, despite all this, many millions choose to live in and amongst its garbage and degeneracy." "You don't recommend that I ever visit the City?" "No. Not if you value your Soul!" the White Elephant said emphatically. "I have visited the City many times, but I pride myself that I stay immune from infection by its vices. I may admire the technical and material progress and modernity of the City, and I may make my material fortune by investment in City institutions, but I have no wish to further my familiarity with it. I am always content when I leave the City and can purge myself not only of the physical muck and grime of its noxious environment, but can retreat to my private chapel and purge my Soul of the temptations of the flesh and intellect to which I have been exposed. "In the City, there is all the depravity and decline which will surely hasten the Day of Judgment. As the City grows in its influence and its geographical spread, it is like a cancer infesting the moral, economic, political and environmental body of this land. The City congests its inhabitants into smaller and less congenial spaces, spreads pollution into the air, the street, the water supply and the ether, exhausting the atmosphere, the soil, the reservoir and the power station. Worse than its physical despoliation and exploitation, is its spiritual barrenness and pollution. It spreads prostitution, pornography, atheism, sexual perversity and a cult of instant gratification. And this is what is most despicable in the City and what it represents. Gotesdene will not be so corrupted as it pursues the path of Progress that I have planned for it. It will forever remain a bastion of virtue, faith and, yea, the Truth!" The White Elephant paused in his tirade and looked about him at the village. His great claims for it did not seem particularly well illustrated by the general atmosphere of poverty and decay. A peasant was urinating against a tree. Several goats were plaintively bleating for alms around a pottery saucer. One goat had both rear legs missing and one eye. The ground was dusty and barren, dotted occasionally by piles of ox dung and attendant flies. The White Elephant appeared not to see any of this disorder, which would arouse automatic disgust in the Suburbs, but was instead satisfied that the greater virtues of the village were immediately evident. "I have much business to which I must attend," he announced proudly. "I shall leave you now. But I hope that as you stay here you will reflect on all that I have said and focus anew your quest for the Truth." With that he bade me farewell, and walked away from the village green, his cloak raising a cloud of dust behind him, responding with a gracious wave of his trunk to the obsequies of the villagers who stood aside for him. A passing goat was selling meat pies which looked quite unappetising, but my hunger resolved that I off-load some of the farthings I had accumulated for a pie that was fortunately cool enough for me to eat with my fingers. I sat down at the base of the stone cross with my feet resting in dried mud and decomposing faeces. I passively observed the bustle of the village, still slightly nauseated by the dirt and decay. While chewing on a particularly unforgiving piece of unidentifiable meat, I noticed some men and women wearing unsophisticated flaxen clothes roughly push a woman towards the common. They headed towards the stocks, shouting and jeering at the woman as they proceeded. She was punched and kicked and some of her clothes had been ripped off. She seemed resigned to her misfortune and didn't struggle, but from the evidence of the bruises on her face and her bare arms and shoulders, she'd probably lost all the resistance she'd ever had. The stocks were opened, her head, hands and legs were pushed through, and then they were clamped shut. She sat in a very undignified position, with only the dusty ground on which to rest her bottom which condemned her to exceptional discomfort. The men forcing her in didn't ameliorate this at all, and indeed made it worse by kicking her when they'd secured the stocks with a peg through the hole by the side. Her punishment wasn't over then, as the group of men and women continued jeering at her, and began throwing earth and moist cow-pats at her. One or two children even threw stones - one catching her on the cheek and immediately opened a bloody gash. An ox passing by did a very good trade in the fruit he was selling, which judging from the messy way it splattered as it hit her must have been less than fresh and firm. I had never seen justice dispensed like this in the Suburbs, where punishment was generally either monetary or concealed in penal institutions. I felt uneasy about the unbridled enthusiasm with which this rough justice was dealt. "Poor girl!" Commented a voice next to me. "Even if she is a witch, I'm certain she doesn't deserve what she's getting." I turned my head away from the action to look straight into the eyes of a horse. At least, I initially thought it was a horse, judging from his muzzle, but he had a graceful white body with delicate cloven feet, a long sinuous tail and a single golden horn rising from his forehead. After encountering so many singular individuals today, encountering a Unicorn didn't appear so strange. But I'd always believed that Unicorns no longer existed. This Unicorn was by no means extinct. He shook his golden mane and whinnied slightly. "It may be she is a witch. But if she is, there's not a great deal to show of her sorcery. I'd always thought she was more a veterinary surgeon, from the evidence of her care for pets and farm workers, but the good people of Gotesdene have clearly judged her guilty. Not that I'm at all sure what's wrong with witchcraft, despite the fact that in my several millennia I've not seen much to convince me that it ever actually works. Still, she's lucky in a way! If you'd been here a few days ago, you'd have seen the still decaying corpse of another convicted witch hanging from the gallows." "How dreadful!" I exclaimed. "What happened to her?" "Well, eventually the maggots, or whatever it is that eats decaying bodies, had loosened her neck sufficiently so that it snapped. Then her head fell off where it cracked open and rolled towards the oak trees. Her body just dropped down in a heap where the dogs straightaway pounced on her rancid flesh. It wasn't a pleasant sight!" "I'm sure it wasn't," I agreed, still in awe of the Unicorn whose long tail gracefully looped round and with great accuracy snapped like a whipcord at the many flies showing interest in his rump. "Why don't people in Gotesdene like witches?" "To say I don't know would be a lie. I've lived too long and in too many communities not to understand how people everywhere feel the need to find victims in their midst. Communists, Homosexuals, Jews, Cats, Pakistanis, Goats, Cockatrices, - they've all been victimised at one time or another. I suppose I should consider myself rather lucky that unicorns have never really been disliked by anyone. People in Gotesdene are very set in their ways, and anyone whose behaviour or attitude seems a bit odd or unusual means that they will almost certainly be accused of Sodomy or Witchcraft. And sometimes both at the same time. Which I suppose is just about feasible. "But I make a point of coming to Gotesdene every now and then. I'm very popular with the villagers. There just doesn't seem to be anything that I can't do as far as they're concerned. They probably think I can vault tall buildings or stop speeding express trains. They certainly believe I can do wonders for impotence and gonorrhoea. Absolute nonsense, of course, but I'm certainly made to feel very welcome. But it's probably not so unusual to find someone like me in a place like Gotesdene. What is bizarre is that someone like you should be. Are you from the City?" "No. The Suburbs," I admitted. "Indeed, I've never even visited the City!" "Really, that does seem curious to me! But then I've never been to the Suburbs, although I've been to the City many times. Very many times. It's changed so much over the centuries: you wouldn't believe! I recall when it wasn't any bigger than Gotesdene here. In fact, I can remember when the modern-day Gotesdene villagers would seem positive sophisticates. In those days, people used to think I could cure them of laryngitis, leprosy or haemophilia just by touching them with my horn. It seemed that it didn't matter how many people I'd touch with my horn who didn't get in the slightest bit better, my reputation didn't suffer at all. Often tales of the medical achievements I'd made without the slightest recourse to surgery or antibiotics preceded me and I was well fêted wherever I went. In a way, those were good days, but I like to keep a lower profile nowadays. I don't like the way some people think they might solve the mystery as to how I've achieved so many miracles by dissecting me. I'd rather remain a mystery and alive." The Unicorn shook his head sadly and blew agitatedly through his wide nostrils. "I like the City. If I were you, I'd make a point of visiting it some time. You can't hope to understand the world today without seeing the City. It's the exact opposite to here. In Gotesdene (bless it!) there really is nothing of any great interest, although I imagine its modernising mayor might think differently. In the City is literally everything of interest. It's almost too much. The reason people want to escape from the City is not so much for what they are running towards, but from the tremendous bewilderment they're running away from." "It sounds very forbidding." "I daresay it does. And the first time one is there, one is astonished by how very busy it is. Everyone is rushing around from place to place. There is an astonishing network of trams, buses and trains: all full as they carry people to and from work, around the tourist sites, to the nightclubs, theatres and brothels. The City is alive all day and all night. In fact it's a cliché to say the City never sleeps, but it never does. Quite unlike Gotesdene which you could say could hardly be described as even fully awake. "I'm forever astounded at how the City continues to grow and expand over the centuries. I've often thought: this is it! It can never get busier, or wealthier, or more crowded, or the buildings any taller. I've often thought that I was privileged to see the City at the pinnacle of its history, reaching the logical peak of its relentless progression, only to see yet again how mistaken I was. But then I have a very unusual perspective, having lived for such a very long time." "How long have you lived?" "I'm sure it's still considered rude in some cultures to discuss age," laughed the Unicorn. He shook his head with a rough snort through his nostrils, while a couple of oxen passed by chatting and laughing as they went. One of them shyly signalled to the Unicorn with his tail, and then returned to his conversation. "I am, as it happens rather more than two thousand years, probably close to three thousand. Quite a great age by your standards I imagine, but not at all unusual for Unicorns. I suppose we make up in number of years for what we lack in number of individuals." I was quite astonished. This degree of longevity was extremely rare in the Suburbs. Indeed, as I reflected, the Suburbs, despite its apparent timelessness, probably didn't exist as such when the Unicorn was born. "You must have seen and done an astonishing number of things in your life." "I have that," he laughed good-naturedly. "I've been to almost every corner of the globe at one time or another. I've had the luxury of enough time to spend what you might call a lifetime in rather a few of these places. In fact, in some of the better places, for rather more than a lifetime. I've been the companion of royalty: quite a few princesses have felt strangely enamoured towards me, but I've successfully resisted any indecent advances. Perhaps it's the Unicorn's very ability to resist such temptation, that's kept our numbers down, but like the manticore and the chimera I have great reasons to suspect the propriety of some of my ancestors." He glanced down at the cloven hoof at the end of his slender deer-like legs. "I really am such a curious mixture of things. It's difficult to imagine how anyone could ever have conceived of someone like me!" "What places have you visited?" I wondered, hoping that perhaps he might give me some insight as to where I might find the Truth. "Oh, so many places! Islands inhabited by moas, dodos and æpyornises. Plains full of quaggas and aurochs. Forests of giant lemurs, pygmy elephants and ground sloths. Seas full of great whales, giant auks and dugongs. Countries where people are sacrificed to the sun, nations which randomly enslave more than a tenth of their own people and work them until they die, and nations dedicated entirely to the pursuit of pleasure. I much prefer the last ones. I've been the guest of chancellors, viziers, cæsars, walis and prime ministers. I've met some of the most famous people in all history. In fact, I've had one of the most rich and fulfilling lives you can imagine!"
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