Murphy's Law - 5. Penance

Whatever boost in morale the Credo provides is short-lived unfortunately, for the sound grows louder, the stench stronger with every passing day until there comes a day unlike any other Clan Murphy has ever experienced. Even before dawn they hear them. They hear them even above the now constant din none can identify. They've heard them before this day, but always from afar and only as intermittent bits of the overall din. But this day the screeching and screaming, so unlike anything anyone in clan Murphy has ever heard before is directly over their heads. The consternation increases when the sun rises and the people see them, see the white creatures that swoop and dive upon their heads, creatures greater in size than any but humans themselves, far larger than any flea or fly or other familiar creature. At first, everyone is stunned and the children neglect to loft their fecal grenades and no man fights as all stare into the sky immediately above. The Mahafs too, stare, but then collect themselves and shout commands and bustle about importantly and soon the daily combat is set in motion.

Often during that day does the gaze of each Mahaf reach skyward trying to identify these creatures, but not until dinner time do they reveal their true character. For then, of a sudden, do many of them swoop down and fly off with food meant for people clenched in their horrible mouths.

"Stand to arms!" shouts Murphy. " We must fight this damnable brood!"

Even as he shouts so shout all the surrounding Mahafs. The fight is on. The filthy beasts swoop down from all angles making hideous screeching sounds. The men swing their clubs and thrust their knives but all in vain as they meet thin air. This is unfamiliar combat, trying their arms on such sinister beasts and little is accomplished. The repellent snatchers of food simply fly away with their booty.

Yet, amidst this confusion one man stands serene, calmly observing with a face of wonder. Watt. Murphy summons his erstwhile Priest.

"What do you make of this?" he asks. "What do you think they are?"

"I don't know," says Watt.

"Once again you seem unconcerned, pleased even."

"It is more than I could hope for," says Watt.

"You think this is a good thing?" asks Murphy amazed.

"I do," says Watt.

"And why is that?"

"Well, I don't know exactly. I suppose we might learn something from them."

"Like what?"

"I can't imagine," says Watt. "We'll have to wait and see."

"So what course do you propose?"

"Why, just watch them, see what they do," Watt answers. Then, looking straight into Murphy's eyes, "Have you noticed for example, that they prey on us just as they prey on every other clan?"

Murphy straightens up.

"And what do you make of that?" he asks.

"Oh, nothing," says Watt. "Yet."

In the days following this discussion the flying thieves are identified. This process occurs out of nowhere it seems. Certainly Murphy has made no pronouncement, nor has he seen or heard any of the Mahafs of surrounding clans doing so. It just happens. One day, it seems, they are nameless pests, the next they are Harpies.

Harpies. The Thieves of Hell. That evening Murphy summons Pozzo and Watt for a conference.

"What do you think of this notion of Harpies?" he asks.

Neither man responds.

"Pozzo," says Murphy. "Where did this idea come from?"

Pozzo shrugs.

"Well," he says. "They steal food, they screech, they fly. What else could they be?"

Murphy looks at Watt.

"Well?" he says. "What else could they be?"

"I don't know," says Watt.

Murphy grunts, turns back to Pozzo.

"So you think they are Harpies," he says.

"I don't know sir," he says. "What do you think?"

"Dammit," says Murphy. "Look, it's either one or the other, they're either Harpies or they aren't!"

"Exactly," says Watt.

Murphy and Pozzo both look at him. Watt sighs.

"They're Harpies or they aren't," he says. "So suppose they aren't. What then? Then they must be something completely unknown to us, something we've never even imagined."

Murphy shakes his head.

"I don't like that," he says.

"But," says Watt. "I suspect you like the alternative even less. For if they are Harpies then the noise we've been hearing is the crying of the Damned and the odor we've been smelling is the stink of the abyss and the thing that's out there is the Hellmouth."

"You're right," says Murphy. "I like that even less."

"It gets worse," says Watt.

"How could it?" asks Murphy.

"Well," says Watt. "If they are Harpies then we have to wonder why they attack our clan just as much as they attack any other clan. I would expect that Harpies would leave the One True Clan alone."

"So," says Murphy. "Either we are not the One True Clan or they are not Harpies."

Watt simply shrugs.

"But," says Pozzo. "We are the One True Clan!"

"Yes," says Murphy. "Therefore they are not Harpies. Do you agree Watt?"

"That would be my preference," Watt replies.

"I think, then," says Murphy, "that we all agree."

"One other thing," says Watt. "If they aren't Harpies, then they aren't taboo, right?"

"Hmm," says Murphy. "Let me think about that."

In the days following Murphy did indeed think about the white creatures but not about whether they were taboo, only about what they were. As Watt said, they were Harpies or they weren't. If they weren't, there were things about the world no one Murphy ever encountered knew about, and Murphy found that unacceptable. Murphy wanted his world completely accounted for and thoroughly understood. Unknown creatures were outside the Law. But if they were Harpies how to explain their utter disregard for the One True Clan? There could be only one answer: Clan Murphy had sin. Someone, maybe more than one, has sinned. Yes, that has to be the answer. The white devils are Harpies, the noise is the crying of the Damned, the smell is the stink of the abyss and that thing out there that grows nearer every day is indeed the Hellmouth. Now at least Murphy knows what he has to do.

The next evening Murphy leads the clan as each citizen confesses to every possible sin save one, a procedure that guarantees that no one will hide or forget anything. The list of sins includes greed, envy, pride, lust, gluttony, despair, false witness, theft, disrespect and, worst of all, Doubt. Greed is wanting more food than you have; envy is wishing you had another's food; gluttony is eating more than your share, which usually is acquired by theft; lust is hugging or rubbing up against another person; disrespect, despair and Doubt all are interrelated sins against the Law that typically result in Madness. Murphy reminds them that one doesn't have to actually physically perform these acts to sin, that merely wanting to do them is a sin. Thus it was a sin to want to steal another's food even if you didn't actually do it. You committed the sin of lust simply by dreaming about rubbing against someone. And, the Big Mahaf tells them, the most pernicious sin of all, the most sinister and surreptitious, is the sin of Doubt. This is the one sin omitted in the rite, the one sin too critical to be confessed falsely. It is an admission that should only be made when true, yet it is also an admission that must instantly be punished by ostracism. No surprise, then, that not a single person mentions a lack of faith, which nevertheless does not prevent the Mahaf from haranguing them about it. One can never know whether another person Doubts, he declares. Indeed, one might Doubt and not even realize it oneself. It is a point about which he speaks at some length, finally challenging everyone to examine their consciences most thoroughly and wash away any slightest hint of this evil.

After Confession comes Penance. Since, however, Penance can be debilitating and since the clan cannot afford to lose the services of many of its members the Penance is performed only by a single individual: the youngest breeder. So, as all watch, Shonso grovels in the muck and presses his face to the ground. As he eats several mouthfuls of shit Pozzo flogs his back with a multi-armed lash made of human sinew with teeth knotted in it. He draws blood and everyone but Murphy, Pozzo and Shonso moan in pain. With every stroke the women squeal as though they were the victims. With every mouthful of shit, the men gag. At a sign from Murphy Pozzo stops. Shonso raises his head from the marl and thrusts his fingers down his throat and pukes up most of the shit he ate. As he does this everyone else makes gagging and belching sounds, groaning, rolling their eyes, holding their heads and stomachs. When Shonso can puke no more Penance is over and it is time for Absolution.

"Are you contrite?" Murphy bellows and everyone cries "Yes!"

"Are you heartily sorry for your sins?"

"Yes!"

"Do you resolve to try never to commit them again?"

"Yes!"

Murphy bows his head, mumbles inaudibly for a moment or two, then raising his eyes he motions mystically with his hands in the air and shouts, "Your sins they are forgiven!"

Everyone shouts, "Hooray!" and stamps and dances and whistles and smiles at one another.