“Listen, my prince. Do you know that this place, Tuṣita, is a full sixty thousand yojana above Yāma? By another way of reckoning, that is roughly 160 billion light-years. Up here, we have created clouds of interstellar material by stacking layer upon layer of near-vacuum. And so have we created this great world, an experimental model, here in Tuṣita, which is itself eighty billion light-years across.
“Listen, my prince.
“In the center of the universe, Mt. Sumeru extends above the Golden Ring. Its four sides are bounded by seas of fragrant waters, and beyond that, the Seven Golden Mountains and the Seven Seas. Beyond that is an ocean of the kind you are accustomed to, with salt in its water. The outermost perimeter is the great iron ring of the Cakravāḍa mountains—think of them as the rim of the great saucer that holds these many seas and peaks. The Cakravāḍa are made of iron, copper, and steel, and nothing—neither deva nor demon—may ascend their walls. We might interpret this as the limit of the universe as defined by the speed of light.
“Now, my prince, in the outer ocean float four continents, one in each of the cardinal directions. The continent to the south is Jambudvīpa, where man dwells—your world.
“The summit of Mt. Sumeru is the place called Trayastriṃśa, where Śakra, lord of the devas, maintains his Seeing-Joy Palace. Looking from the palace, down the slopes of the mountain, one can see three terraces below—Sadāmada, Mālādhara, and Karoṭapāni. Gazing farther to the south one sees Jambudvīpa; to the east is Pūrvavideha, to the north is Uttarakuru, and to the west is Aparagodānīya, all great continents, each with seasons of warmth and icy cold. Just below Tuṣita is Cāturmahārājika, where reside the Four Heavenly Kings: Dhṛtarāṣṭra in the east, Virūḍhaka in the south, Virūpākṣa in the west, and Vaiśravaṇa in the north, all serving Śakra and each commanding a retinue of elites—though not the Eight Generals, who fall directly under Śakra’s command. In particular, Virūpākṣa—who is called ‘he who sees all’—is in charge of the advance warning system. It is he who monitors all surrounding space for shifts in the gravitational field.
“The warning system is part of a defense network split between the two heavens upon Mt. Sumeru and coordinated through the four heavens above that, all of which are called together the Six Heavens of the Realm of Desire. Some distance above Tuṣita are the three Heavens of the First Meditation, which include the Mahā Brahmā, ruled by Brahmā himself. Above that are the Three Heavens of the Second Meditation, and above that the Three Heavens of the Third Meditation and the Nine Heavens of the Fourth Meditation, with Akaniṣṭha at the very top. This world is thought to lie beyond the light-speed barrier—and thus its existence has not yet been confirmed, my prince.”
Siddhārtha’s mind strained to comprehend this model of the universe. He felt overwhelmed.
“In Tuṣita there are forty-nine satellite cities surrounding this city of the Pearl Palace. The Pearl Palace is the last line of defense, responsible for protecting all the Heavens. It is our last hope,” said Brahmā.
Finally Siddhārtha found the courage to speak. “Allow me to ask you, Brahmā . . . Why do these vaulted heavens harbor such catastrophe? On my way here, the monks led me through countless places where I saw nothing but waste and destruction. I thought in my journey I would witness the truth behind those dark principles that bring ruin to the world of men—yet what I find here is more of the same: devastation and death. Lord Brahmā, what is the cause of this heavenly catastrophe that affects Tuṣita?”
Brahmā answered in a voice filled with bitter grief.
“My Prince, it is the invasion of these heavens by the asura that has brought us to these desperate straits, where we struggle even to defend Tuṣita.”
“The asura?”
“Yes. Misshapen creatures—beings with three faces and six arms. Whence they come we do not know. But their leader, whom we call “Asura,” is full of cunning and violence. His warriors are many and deadly; even our powerful yakṣa cannot defend against them without great casualties. Asura has warred with Lord Śakra, defender of Tuṣita, for some four hundred million years and shows no sign of ever abandoning the assault. Asura is the very essence of evil in the universe. Be warned, my prince, and be wary.”
Siddhārtha felt Brahmā’s mind focus intently upon him, and with a start he realized that all of their discussion had taken place without a single word being uttered. As he lacked form, so too did he lack words.—No, he thought, it is not a lack or loss. For where one must rely upon words to convey meaning, one can never have a true dialogue.
In gratitude Prince Siddhārtha turned to the vast space above and pressed his hands together, formless though he was.
“My prince, the first thing you must learn is the nature and appearance of the destruction that assails this world. How might we save Tuṣita from its fate? The many sorrows of the human world originate here, you understand. Where will you find the source of this destruction, this unhappiness? That is the question to which you must find an answer.”
A long silence passed. Siddhārtha could not say how long he had sat hunched upon the dry, drifting sands.
“My prince, let us be off,” Maudgalyayana said, and he and Subhuti helped the prince to his feet.
The immense sea of sand had disappeared before the prince’s eyes, replaced by a long corridor of scintillating light. They were just outside the boundaries of the city.
Which is the real Kabahla, Siddhārtha wondered, the barren desert where the wind whips the sand through the air, or the shining city I see now before me? In what world did I meet with Brahmā? He could not say with certainty which it had been. And it didn’t really matter. He would have been equally pleased by a sand-strewn wasteland or a perfectly constructed city of ideal beauty. No matter where he was, he knew that his body was void, already a part of the cosmos. And he would be taking that void-body to confront the very substance of evil.
✦ ✦ ✦
“Maudgalyayana. I wish to meet Asura. I would encounter this most evil of all evil kings and ask the true meaning of his actions.”
The four Brahmin monks exchanged glances, seeming impressed at Prince Siddhārtha’s willingness to face the ultimate evil and his desire to find the path to enlightenment.
“Very good, my prince,” said Maudgalyayana. “You would do well to meet Asura and ascertain for yourself the true nature of that being. However—”
“Yes?”
“We are students of the Way of the Heavens under Brahmā, and as such, are unable to escort you to such a one as Asura.”
“I understand. You need only tell me the way to Asura’s camp and how to contact him.”
Subhuti nodded thoughtfully. “There is a single subspace communication circuit established between Asura and Śakra. You may use that.”
“Yes,” Mahākāśyapa said, “though it has lain dormant for many tens of millions of years, ever since Śakra and Asura abandoned the way of peace. Now—” the monk’s voice took on a new urgency—” we must relocate to an expansion of refracted subspace at once, before Asura’s attack begins.”
The thin crimson curtain of light near the horizon had begun to flicker intensely.
“What’s that?” the prince asked, casting an unsettled look at the sky.
“The aurora. Asura is beneath that changing light.”
It occurred to the prince that the shifting colors in that arc of brightness revealed minute changes in the heart of the enemy.
“Here,” said Maudgalyayana, “I will instruct you in the operation of the gravity bubble.” Guiding the prince with a hand on his back, the monk directed their progress into the walled city of Tovatsue.
From the moment they entered the giant cylinder it was clear that the city was well defended against all manner of attacks. And yet the place had a smell of tragedy, as though it had already lost something it would never be able to reclaim. It was alone, resigned to await its fate.
How odd to think that Tuṣita was a city of future glory—for as Siddhārtha’s studies had taught him, 5,670,000,000 years from now this place was to be the city of Maitreya, the being who would save humanity by opening the way to a perfect world.
But 5,670,000,000 years was such a long time that it was effectively an eternity for Tuṣita and the distant world of men to wait. And yet waiting—that simple act—was all they could do in the face of Asura’s promised destruction. Unlike the city, holding on for a distant salvation, Asura was acting in the now. Asura had no tomorrow.
“Perhaps,” Siddhārtha muttered, “Asura has nothing to lose.”