"I'd rather."
"I also."
"Very well. Go you then forth across the world, within the thunder chariot and upon the back of the great bird Garuda. Find Yama and Kali. Return them to Heaven. I will wait upon your return and consider the matter of Brahma's passing."
"So be it."
"Agreed."
"Good morning."
"Good merchant Vama, wait! I would have words with thee."
"Yea, Kabada. What wouldst thou?"
"It is difficult to find the words I would have with thee. But they do concern a certain state of affairs which hath aroused considerable sentiment on the parts of thy various adjacent neighbors."
"Oh? Speak on then."
"Concerning the atmosphere . . ."
"The atmosphere?"
"The winds and breezes, perhaps . . ."
"Winds? Breezes?"
"And the things they bear."
"Things? Such as. . . ?"
"Odors, good Vama."
"Odors? What odors?"
"Odors of—well, odors of—of fecal matter."
"Of . . . ? Oh! Yes. True. True enough. There may be a few such. I had forgotten, having grown used to them."
"Might I inquire as to their cause?"
"They are caused by the product of defecation, Kabada."
"Of this I am aware. I meant to make inquiry as to why they are present, rather than their source and nature."
"They are present because of the buckets in my back room, which are filled with such —items."
"Oh?"
"Yes. I have been saving the products of my family in this manner. I have been doing this for the past eight days."
"Against what use, worthy Vama?"
"Hast thou not heard of a thing, a wondrous thing, a thing into which these items are discharged—into water—and then a lever pulled, and then, with a mighty rushing sound, these things are borne away, far beneath the ground?"
"I have heard some talk of such .. ."
"Oh, 'tis true, 'tis true. There is such a thing. It has but recently been invented by one whom I should not name, and it involves great pipes and a seat without a bottom, or a top, really. It is the most wonderful discovery of the age—and I will have me one within a matter of moons!"
"Thou? Such a thing?"
"Yea. It shall be installed in the small room I have built onto the back of my home. I may even give a dinner that night and permit all my neighbors to take use of it."
"This is indeed wondrous—and thou generous."
"I feel so."
"But—of the—smells. . . ?"
"They are caused by the buckets of items, which I am preserving against the installation of this thing."
"Why?"
"I should rather have it on my karmic record that this thing was used for these items beginning with eight days ago, rather than several moons from now. It will show my rapid advancement in life."
"Ah! I see now the wisdom of thy ways, Vama. I did not wish it to appear that we stood in the way of any man who seeks to better himself. Forgive me if I gave this impression."
"Thou art forgiven."
"Thy neighbors do love thee, smells and all. When thou art advanced to a higher state, please remember this."
"Of course."
"Such progress must be expensive."
"Quite."
"Worthy Vama, we shall take delight in the atmosphere, with all its pungent portents."
"This is only my second lifetime, good Kabada, but already I feel that destiny touches upon me."
"And I, also. The winds of Time do shift, and they bear to mankind many wondrous things. The gods keep thee."
"Thou also. But forget not the blessing of the Enlightened One, whom my second cousin Vasu sheltered in his purple grove."
"How could I? Mahasamatman was a god also. Some say Vishnu."
"They lie. He was the Buddha."
"Add then his blessings."
"Very good. Good day, Kabada."
"Good day, worthy one."
Yama and Kali entered into Heaven. They descended upon the Celestial City on the back of the bird called Garuda. In the company of Vishnu, they entered into the City. They did not pause for any purpose, but went directly to the Pavilion of Brahma. In the Garden of Joys they met with Shiva and with Ganesha.
"Hear me, Death and Destruction," said Ganesha, "Brahma is dead and only we five now know of it."
"How did this thing come to pass?" asked Yama.
"It appears that he was poisoned."
"Has there been an autopsy?"
"No."
"Then I shall perform one."
"Good. But now there is another matter, of even graver consideration."
"Name it."
"His successor."
"Yes. Heaven cannot be without a Brahma."
"Exactly. . . . Kali, tell me, would you consider being Brahma, of the golden saddle and silver spurs?"
"I don't know . . ."
"Then begin thinking about it, and quickly. You are considered the best choice."
"What of Lord Agni?"
"Not so high on the list. It does not appear he is so anti-Accelerationist as Madam Kali."
"I see."
"And I."
"Therefore, he is a good god, but not a great one."
"Yes. Who might have killed Brahma?"
"I have no idea. Have you?"
"Not yet."
"But you will find him, Lord Yama?"
"Aye, with my Aspect upon me."
"You two may wish to confer."
"We do."
"Then will we leave you now. An hour hence we shall dine together in the Pavilion."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Till then. . ."
"Till then."
"Till then."
"Lady?"
"Yes?"
"With a changing of bodies one is automatically divorced, unless a continuation contract be signed."
"Yes."
"Brahma must needs be a man."
"Yes."
"Refuse it."
"My Lord . . ."
"You hesitate?"
"It is all so sudden, Yama . . ."
"You pause even to consider it?"
"I must."
"Kali, you distress me."
"Such was not my intention."
"And I bid you refuse the offer."
"I am a goddess in my own right, as well as your wife, Lord Yama."
"What does that mean?"
"I make my own decisions."
"If you accept. Kali, then all things are come to an end between us."
"That is apparent."
"What, in the names of the Rishis, is Accelerationism but a storm over an ant hill? Why are they suddenly so against it?"
"It must be that they feel a need to be against something."
"Why choose you to head it?"
"I do not know."
"Unless there is some special reason for you to be anti-Accelerationist, my dear?"
"I do not know."
"I am but young, as gods go, but I have heard it said that in the early days of the world the hero with whom you rode—Kalkin — was the same as the one called Sam. If you had reason to hate your ancient Lord, and Sam was truly he, then could I see their enlisting you against this thing he had started. Might this be true?"
"It might."
"Then if you love me—and you are truly my lady—then let another be Brahma."
"Yama . . ."
"They will want a decision within the hour."
"And I will have one for them."
"What will it be?"
"I am sorry, Yama . . ."
Yama departed the Garden of Joys before dinnertime. Though it seemed an unhealthy breach of etiquette, Yama, among all the gods, was deemed hardest to discipline and was aware of this fact, as well as the reasons that lay behind it. So he left the Garden of Joys and journeyed to the place where Heaven stops.