To look at them, they seemed like brothers – but one was dressed in something like a sheet thrown over his body, and the other in a close-fitting bodystocking. The first was holding his arms out to the sides, and the second was stretching his up towards the sky, so that to Grim they looked like two fisherman – the first one showing what a big fish he had caught, while the second couldn’t even raise his arms high enough for that.

  ‘They are Christ and Antichrist,’ said Alena-Libertina. ‘A notable example of “yin-hegelyan”, the mirror faces of Manitou. You Orks revere only Antichrist and consider us heretics and apostates because we accord other avatars equal respect. But we believe you are too narrow-minded. And they don’t tell you the full truth even about Manitou Antichrist. He wasn’t anything like a black hole with an accretion disk – the way he is depicted on your supraphysical icons “Manitou in Glory”. Many illiterate Orks think that he once came to the city of Slava in that form. But in actual fact, he was just a human being, same as you and I. It’s simply that he was the mouthpiece for Manitou, who has bound the Universe together with a string of black holes.’

  ‘And what exactly did he say?’ asked Grim.

  ‘Antichrist taught people that Manitou lives in everything without exception, in both the high and the low. And it is the division into good and evil, into low and high that is the original sin. In order to nip all prejudices in the bud, he chose for himself the most reviled name that existed in human mythology, and he also chose the most discredited symbols.’

  ‘I’ve heard that before,’ said Grim. ‘But what was he shot for?’

  Alena-Libertina gave a thin smile.

  ‘According to the rumours, it was because he spoke Spanish badly. In his native English he was always chattering nineteen to the number of the beast, and could cajole anyone into anything, but the cocaine naguals didn’t understand him too well and decided he was a freak and perhaps a spy … In his lifetime English wasn’t a church language yet.’

  ‘In our parts they’d say you’re blaspheming.’

  ‘And in our parts, they’d say that your priests blaspheme. And another thing you should know is that he never made your spastika his emblem. The spastika was invented by the Orks, who wanted to show that only they had preserved the true faith. Possibly they were helped by our sommeliers, but certainly not by Manitou the Antichrist. If he hadn’t been killed so young, he would have forbidden the worship of any symbols and icons at all … Please understand, we have nothing against your spastika, Grim. But we don’t always like the doings that it blesses.’

  Alena-Libertina paused, as if she was expecting an outburst of outraged feelings. Grim didn’t react in any way to what he had heard. He pointed to the empty pedestal.

  ‘And has that statue been removed?’ he asked.

  ‘No, that’s the spiritual leader of Northern Europe, the prophet Muhammad. His only image was the absence of an image. Therefore the theologians asserted that his image was everywhere.’

  ‘And who’s this beside him?’

  ‘That’s the first Mashiah – Menachem Mendel Schneerson.’

  ‘And this?’

  ‘The second Mashiah – Semyon Levitan. The former lived in New York, the latter in Moscow and Palestine. The first was revealed to people, the second was hidden from them.’

  The names of the fabled ancient countries sounded to Grim like magical spells that conjured up for just one second the image of something very familiar. He seemed to understand what Northern Europe, Moscow, New York and Palestine were – but a moment later the mirage dissolved like a cloud of smoke. And it was probably good that it did dissolve – far too much of all sorts of things had happened over the centuries for anyone to remember it and live …

  ‘That’s enough about the past,’ said Alena-Libertina. ‘Now it’s time to enter the House of Manitou.’

  ‘Do we have to go somewhere else?’

  ‘You don’t go to the House of Manitou. The House of Manitou comes to you. Are you ready?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Grim.

  ‘Watch.’

  For some reason Grim was expecting that a retro-screen would appear in front of them – of the kind on which they showed Ancient Films. But what did happen was that everything changed instantly.

  The only things left in place were the stone incarnations of Manitou. But now they were in the niches of a circular wall that enclosed him and Alena-Libertina from all sides. There were no doors in the wall. And instead of a sky, veiled in haze, Grim saw a high dome ending in a round opening.

  He was inside an immense building like the ancient temples in the Free Encyclopaedia. The walls and the dome were covered with frescoes. Grim guessed that they represented the history of mankind. There were battle scenes from snuffs, multi-headed beasts emerging from the sea, pyramids being built, iron birds flying in the sky and lots of other things that he simply couldn’t put a name to. But it wasn’t the pictures that made the greatest impression on him. And not even the implacable symmetry of the bas-reliefs and cornices, which set his head spinning.

  Light suddenly flared up in the round opening of the dome. It was a globe of blue fire so bright that Grim spontaneously squeezed his eyes shut as soon as the rays tore into them.

  Grim had never seen light from this strange spectrum before. In comparison with this, the yellow Orkish sun was mild and gentle. But here … This blue fire searing his eyes was probably the sword of Manitou, which the black cotton wadding of the universe mercifully concealed within itself. And now Grim had seen it with his own eyes – and realised that he couldn’t look at it. The light was too pitiless. Even when Grim closed his eyes, the light continued to burn in them, as if the bright ray had cut a round hole in his eyelids forever.

  When the light went out Grim was relieved to brush away the sweat that had sprung up on his forehead. Now he was surrounded by semi-darkness. He could see everything around him like before, although a vague black spot with a brightly glowing rim was floating in front of his eyes.

  ‘Are you all right, Grim?’ Alena-Libertina asked.

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘The Light of Manitou. That is how Manitou shines when He is young.’

  ‘It would be terrible to live under a light like that,’ Grim said.

  ‘Many believe it is the most beautiful thing that exists in the entire world. The universe is born and disappears in this fire. And though we are condemned to be merely its shadow, this light still remains the anchor of our world. Such is reality.’

  A shining yellow sphere lit up in the space in front of Grim, with other, smaller spheres circling round it. The third one from the centre was glowing brightly, and Grim guessed that it was the earth.

  ‘Reality, Grim, has two aspects, which the people of the past called “yin-hegelyan”. The first is matter. The second is consciousness. Our consciousness is always grounded in matter, and matter only exists in our consciousness. Reality is not reducible to either one or the other, much as electricity cannot be reduced to positive or negative. The ancient sages perceived that these two poles are linked together through blood.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Grim.

  ‘It’s very simple, Grim. Now you are alive and you see the physical universe around you. And you are a part of it yourself. Matter and conscience are the two poles of the one Grim. But by spilling your blood, these poles can be separated forever.’

  The planets and the sun went out, and Grim was left in the half-light again.

  ‘The cosmic link between matter and spirit can only be maintained through the constant offering of sacrifice.’

  Grim saw that one of the white statues had started glowing in the semi-darkness. It represented a strange being – a man with a snake’s head, frozen in a complex ceremonial pose.

  ‘This is Manitou Quetzalcoatl,’ said Alena-Libertina. ‘He had already served people before as Prometheus, and he was chained to a rock. Later he served them as Antichrist and he was shot in a Mexican ravine. Each time he sacrifices himself and becomes the sun of the world. The same one that shines over Orkland. It is the same fire that burns in all the other worlds. Any of the stars is Manitou’s dwelling.’

  ‘But surely a star is just a big atomic reactor,’ Grim said in a tone that suggested he knew what an atomic reactor was. ‘Isn’t that right?’

  ‘Grim, there is a material and a spiritual side to everything. The atomic blaze suspended in emptiness is the physical aspect of Manitou. Our ability to see Him is the spiritual aspect. The sun will only be able to warm us and feed us if we maintain a spiritual link with it through blood. That is the purpose of the sacred wars in the Circus.’

  ‘So for you, then, we are just a sacrificial offering?’

  ‘Only a very short time ago you were an Ork, Grim, and I understand your feelings,” Alena-Libertina said. ‘But now you are one of us. Don’t forget that.’

  Grim nodded.

  ‘But why do you hold a war so often?’

  ‘Why do you eat every day? The sacrifice has to be repeated, so that the Light of Manitou will continue to burn. We don’t hanker after blood out of cruelty. We are nourishing Heaven. It is not we who need blood, Grim. Manitou needs it.’

  ‘But why do we have to take care of him?’

  ‘Manitou and this world are one and the same. Manitou creates it out of Himself. You know how they explain that to little children? If we stop taking care of Manitou, Manitou will stop taking care of us. The Light of Manitou will fade away. And then not only the sun will go out, all the screens on which children watch their jolly cartoons will go out too. And then the manitou in all the daddies and mummies’ wallets and purses will run out. No one will be able to live anymore.’

  ‘That’s why people shoot snuffs?’

  ‘Yes. Such is the sacred ritual of the birth of the world.’

  ‘But what has the birth of the world got to do with this?’

  ‘That is one of the supreme mysteries of religion, Grim. You can only obtain an answer through initiation into the Mysteries. By no means is everyone capable of comprehending it. It is especially difficult for the Global Orks – they are inclined to think that there is no spiritual reality higher than the stock market indices.’

  ‘Perhaps I can manage it,’ said Grim.

  ‘All right,’ said Alena-Libertina. ‘I’ll explain it once, and if you don’t understand, don’t ask me to repeat it.’

  Grim gulped hard and nodded resolutely.

  ‘Watch …’

  A bright blue dot lit up in the semi-darkness in front of Grim. Then it exploded and was transformed into a vortex of stars and nebulae scattering in all directions. Gradually fading, these blazing spots hurtled further and further away from each other, until space became black and empty.

  ‘That is how the scientists of former times imagined the conception and birth of our universe out of the Light of Manitou, and its death,’ said Alena-Libertina. ‘However, before they were consumed by the atomic fire, the physicists of the Age of Ancient Films proved that time actually runs in the opposite direction. It seems to us that the Universe moves from Big Bang to heat death – but this is simply an error of human perception. In reality all processes move in the reverse direction. The fourth law of thermodynamics, that blend of statistics and religious faith, is actually merely a perceptual illusion – of the same kind as the sun appearing to rotate round the earth …’

  Grim raised one hand, as if trying to halt the flood of incomprehensible words.

  ‘Man imagines that Manitou has disintegrated into fragments that are scattering endlessly through space, and therefore since time immemorial people have proclaimed that God is dead. But in reality Manitou is returning home. Manitou is becoming Himself. The red shift that astronomers observe is an illusion. For Manitou it is blue – man is simply condemned to see the blue light of Manitou as his own crimson. In addition, although nothing can move faster than the threshold velocity, the threshold velocity itself changes depending on the configuration of the Universe. However, reality is structured so that all this can only be comprehended with spiritual vision – and only then will certain physical validations become manifest …’

  Grim was no longer trying to understand these words. He was looking at the manitou where the same nebulae and stars had started lighting up in front of him again. They converged, blazing brighter and brighter, and in the end they merged into a single blinding blue ray of light, which winked at him and went out.

  ‘In actual fact the world is collapsing into a point, and what we see as the past is the future. The age of the crimson sun is behind us. You didn’t flee from Orkland, Grim. You appeared here, among people. Later you will advance backwards into your future, become a tiny little bundle of wailing flesh, enter your mother’s womb, dissolve into it and merge with the fundamental principle. Or, as the theologians put it, you will once again become an information wave in perpendicular time. The Age of Ancient Films is in the future. That is why your icons show the primordial cosmic body of Manitou as a singularity. That is what it is – and we are moving towards a point at which everything shall become one again.’

  ‘How can that happen?’ asked Grim. ‘So it means we don’t know our yesterday, but we know our tomorrow?’

  ‘You’ve driven a motorenwagen, haven’t you, kid? You can see where you’re going – that is, you know what is going to happen. But you can’t see what has been left behind you.’

  ‘But if it’s true … It probably changes everything!’ Grim said, none too confidently.

  ‘It changes everything, Grim. And it changes nothing. Whether you know the secret or not, your life will remain the same. You won’t start growing younger from this second on. In your distorted perception you will still carry on, advancing into a future unknown to you – although in a higher sense it is your past. Such is the fate of all people. But in our spiritual ministry we are able to overcome this riddle and rise above it. What do you think – why out of all the past it is only the Ancient Films that have survived?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘The Ancient Films are blueprints of the future that we preserve by the will of Manitou. The day will come when the future will arise out of the films that we are saving. The Light of Manitou will pass through them, be coloured by them and create the reality imprinted on them. In the true dimension all will occur precisely thus. We are helping Manitou to return home, Grim, even though we are incapable of feeling the true movement of time ourselves. Could there be any higher service?’

  Grim could feel his head spinning – as if Alena-Libertina’s voice really had elevated him to an unimaginable height.

  ‘Now do you understand?’ asked Alena-Libertina. ‘We’re not shooting snuffs. We’re creating the world by projecting them outwards. Snuffs are the seeds of the world and are pleasing to Manitou. In the higher reality they existed before the events that are shot on them. And on the physical plane they dissolve into the Universe when the Light of Manitou, passing through the temple celluloid, transforms the blueprint into reality. At the point where the future aligns with the past, we people become Manitou’s instrument. We conceive the Universe time after time in the ardent embraces of our temple actors, and simultaneously nourish Heaven with the blood of warriors obtained as we do it. Have you perceived the meaning of the sacrament?’

  ‘We nourish with the blood of warriors,’ Grim repeated quietly. ‘Right … But if time runs in the opposite direction, then how can we nourish …’

  ‘No need to continue,’ Alena-Libertina said with a smile. ‘Believe me, my boy, if Manitou wishes to accept your gift, he will find a way to do it outside the bounds of physics, logic and reason. His chambers lie outside of time, and for Him there are no limits. But just now you perceived the other most profound mystery of our faith. That which looks like our sacrifice to Him is, in the higher reality, His gift to us. The warriors do not die during the Circus war. They come to life. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes,’ Grim said uncertainly.

  ‘This is why they say that despite all the blood that is spilled in it, the world is run by love.’

  ‘And does Manitou really need blood?’

  ‘Yes, Grim. And do not try to understand this with your own weak reason. When they try to abolish sacred war, Manitou starts taking the blood that is due to him through mass murders that are committed by solitary crazed individuals. Nothing like that happens during a war. Nourishing Manitou with blood is a cosmic necessity. But only a servant of Manitou can comprehend this. Have you become one, Grim?’

  Perhaps it was a matter of the peculiar tone of insulation in which the question was put, perhaps it was the dramatic nature of the moment in general, but Grim realised that his entire future – which, as it now turned out, was in actual fact his past – could depend on his answer. And moreover, he ought to reply not with a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’. The answer had to be such that no doubts remained about his sincerity. Grim strained to think so hard that everything went black in front of his eyes. And the answer suddenly came.

  ‘Having come here, can I be anyone else?’

  Alena-Libertina laughed softly.

  ‘You’re a clever little Ork,’ she said. ‘Perhaps too clever. But I don’t regret having let you into our world. Live here happily until the day you die …’

  She paused for a moment and added:

  ‘Now you know that it makes no sense to ask where we go to afterwards.’

  The dome above Grim’s head disappeared and he saw the circular open space around him again, with the statues, the 3D sky and the trees. And the rows of empty chairs.

  Alena-Libertina, sitting beside him, chuckled.

  ‘Welcome to the desert of the real. Now we have to think what you’re going to do as a servant of Manitou. I have plans for you.’

  Grim stretched out his neck in a gesture of unmitigated attention.