Briefing for a Descent Into Hell - Doris May Lessing [52]
“I should have known better,” says Minerva. “Only an idiot gets into an argument with the Master of Words. Well, I can’t really wish you an enjoyable visit, when things have never been so bad.”
“But one hopes, and indeed expects, that they have a potentiality for good in proportion to the bad—for that is how things tend to balance out.”
“The sort of remark that I usually make, if I may say so—and which tends to irritate you, dear Messenger. But you are right. This particular combination of planets will be really so very powerful—the equivalent of several centuries of evolution all in a decade or so. I don’t think I am exceeding my mandate if I say there is anxiety. After all, no one could say they have ever been distinguished by consistency or even ordinary common sense.”
“I am sure the anxiety is justified. But I expect there’ll be the usual few who will listen. It’s enough.”
“So we must hope, for everyone’s sake.”
“And if the worst comes to the worst, we can do without them. The Celestial Gardener will simply have to lop off that branch, and graft another.”
“Charmingly put! Almost, indeed, reassuring, put in such a way! But so much trouble and effort have already been put into that planet. Messengers have been sent again and again. The regard of Our Father (as of course it comes down to us through his Regent, my own Father) is surely expressed by the long history of Our concern? And there was that Covenant—the fact they continuously disregard it, is not enough reason to abandon them altogether. After all, when all is said and done …”
“You are tactfully referring to that ancestry business again? Well, whatever the stark and dire nature of the shortly-to-be-expected celestial configurations, and whatever man’s backslidings, the fact that I am about to descend again (yes, I grant that I say that with a bit of a sigh) shows that our respective fathers are well aware of the situation. And more—that there is confidence in the outcome.”
“I’m glad I find you in such good heart.”
“Dear Minerva, do come out with it. You want to give me some good advice, is that it?”
“It’s just that—well, after all, there are a dozen or so of us, Jupiter’s children, and it is an enlarging family, and some of us are not unlike Earth, and as the oldest sister you must see that I have had so much experience and …”
“Dear, dear Minerva.”
“Oh well, I really didn’t mean to irritate you. I’ll leave you, then.”
“Yes, do, goodbye.”
And Minerva flies off.
As for Mercury the Messenger, he divides himself effortlessly into a dozen or so fragments, which fall gently through the air on to Earth, and the Battalions of Progress are strengthened for the Fight.
Ah yes, all very whimsical. Yes, indeed, the contemporary mode is much to be preferred, thus: that Earth is due to receive a pattern of impulses from the planet nearest the Sun, that planet nearest on the arm of the spiral out from Sun. As a result, the Permanent Staff on Earth are reinforced and
THE CONFERENCE
was convened on Venus, and had delegates from as far away as Pluto and Neptune, both of whom normally asked for transcripts to be sent. But this time, everyone in the solar system would be affected. The Sun Himself was represented. But his Presence was general and pervasive: the light glowed more strongly after a certain point in the proceedings, and a silence fell for a moment—that was all. But everyone knew how rare an event this was, and the sense of urgency deepened.
Minna Erve was in the Chair. A forceful and animated woman, with particularly arresting eyes, she was the obvious choice, because of her position