Roofrats 12

Weft had watched it only long enough to ascertain that it wasn't a threat.

"You'd have to trust someone very much," he said, and his hand sleepwalked just for an instant to where his shirt (grey today, and chastely cut) covered his abs.

"Maybe it's similar in a way," he added. "I'd prefer leaving it to the professionals, knowing a deity's mediating, instead of some fallible person who'd probably be up to no good. I mean, how many ordinary people do you know who wouldn't misuse that sort of power? Even beginning with the best intentions?"

Nico sighed, barely louder than a breath, and considered a moment. When she answered her voice was soft. "I remember a man who was able to read other people's minds, but had strict principles about not doing so without permission. There was a feud between his family and another, but at one point they met to try to settle it with an agreement. Some thought he should have checked if the head of the other family was honest in his suggestions, but he was not only dead set against prying, but also said that asking would be the same as calling the man a liar. An offense like that would ruin their efforts to create peace.
So they trusted the word of a liar, and were poisoned with the parting drink."

She shrugged, and, slowly returning from long ago and far away, added, "There aren't that many people with those powers I know closely enough. I can think of two people whom I would trust completely with my own thoughts.

I guess I would be more likely to trust a person, because their possibilities are limited. A deity that could do whatever they wanted with my thoughts, ugh."

Her companion had listened to the story with rapt attention. Nico's final statement, though, needed a few seconds' thought.

"I trust any of my brothers," Weft thought aloud, "and as for the gods, well, if they want to mess with my head, I can't stop them. Some would say it's their right."

Nico shrugged and said lightly, "I wouldn't; as I said, different places, different gods. What did the ones here do to earn rights and trust like that?" It was meant as a straightforward question, not a veiled criticism; mostly, at least.

"Earn? Th-- that's not how it works. My grace, you make them sound like middle managers or..."

Weft broke off for half a second to scrutinise someone in passing.

"...sergeants or something, not higher beings. The gods created civilisation, but that's not even the point. They are. That's what gives them the right."

"Ah, creating civilisation sounds good. Better than considering the one of them who helps mortals along a traitor and having him eaten alive by rats," she answered cheerfully.

"Rats? Ugh."

"Quite." She was not opposed to rats in general, but their use as instruments of torture or murder certainly was a situation involving them that deserved the label "ugh".

That would, Weft reflected, be like a human being eaten by... something even worse than rats. Devils, maybe? Some years ago, the brother Vagary Poet had proposed an additional level of classification in between crawling animals and devils, but as far as Weft knew there had been no practical theological verification.

Yucky, anyway.

"I don't think the gods argue. With each other. It'd be hard to, given that they know... I mean, they have perfection in knowledge and the philosophical graces."

The last phrase was parroted. Apparently someone had, at some point, bothered to translate Offwhite theological dialect into interworld.

"But don't they have different philosophies? One of your gods supports loving your fellow beings, and another liked killings, so wouldn't they argue about the best course of action in a given situation?"

"Not that I've ever seen," Weft said honestly. "I suppose if one appeared to you you'd argue with him or her, right?"

"Depends a lot on the situation. All things considered, more likely not."

"Glad to hear it," said Weft with insufficient forethought. "Um. You say words like depends a lot."

Nico grinned, understanding Weft's first sentiment.

"Well, because it depends. I don't go arguing with a deiety because it's there, that'd be unbelievably silly. But - and please keep in mind that many places I have been to have fallible gods - if I'd come across one doing something I found objectionable, I'd try to do something against it. If arguing would make sense, or be more likely to get me fried by lightning again depends, on the temper of the god in question."

"Objectionable," he echoed. Trying to apply such terms to manifestly superior beings quite simply hurt a brother's head. "So you'd refuse to work for one on similar grounds, then..."

"If I got the impression I had a choice, yes."

"No offence," Weft began, "but I get the feeling that trying to follow your approach would make my brain explode from too many ifs. It's good to have some certainties in life."

This was very much more polite than what he could have said.

She took no offense.

"That's right."

"Of whatever kind," he added, thinking of the very close friends she'd mentioned.

Nico nodded, but gave Weft a curious look, wondering if he'd elaborate.