"Terrible Feng-Shui here. Worst I ever saw. You two crazy?"
"Because of...?" Dixon indicating behind them, in thickening dusk, the Visto sweeping away.
"It acts as a Conduit for what we call Sha, or, as they say in Spanish California, Bad Energy.—  Imagine a Wind, a truly ill wind, bringing fail?ure, poverty, disgrace, betrayal,— every kind of bad luck there is,— all blowing through, night and day, with many times the force of the worst storm you were ever in."
"No one intends to live directly upon the Visto," Mason speaking as to a Child. "The object being, that the people shall set their homes to one side or another. That it be a Boundary, nothing more."
"Boundary!" The Chinaman begins to pull upon his hair and paw the earth with brocade-slipper'd feet. "Ev'rywhere else on earth, Boundaries follow Nature,— coast-lines, ridge-tops, river-banks,— so honoring the Dragon or Shan within, from which Land-Scape ever takes its form. To mark a right Line upon the Earth is to inflict upon the Dragon's very Flesh, a sword-slash, a long, perfect scar, impossible for any who live out here the year 'round to see as other than hateful Assault. How can it pass unanswer'd?"
This is the third continent he has been doing Feng-Shui jobs on, and he thought he'd seen crazy people in Europe, but these are beyond folly. Whig country-homes, sinister chateaux, Adriatic villas, Hungarian hot springs, Danish harems in the Turkish style,— not one of their owners having hir'd him out of respect for the Dragon, nor for what he could do or find out or even tell them,— when 'twas not innocently to indulge a fascination with the exotic, 'twas to permit themselves yet one more hope in the realm of the Subjunctive, one more grasp at the last radiant whis?pers of the last bights of Robe-hem, billowing ?ther-driven at the back of an ever-departing Deity. A people without faith,— very well, he could understand it, now and then even respect it,— yet here in America, is little but Faith,— church-spires on every town skyline, traveling minis?ters who draw congregations by the hundreds and thousands, across flooded pastures, beneath rain-combed skies and in under the outspread wings of their white tents, singing far off in the woods, full of fervent strange harmonies that grow louder as the traveler approaches—
Frowning at his Luo-Pan, the mystic Chinaman shakes his head and mutters, "Even the currents of Earth are with them."
" 'Them'?"
"I have an enemy in these parts, I believe,— a certain Jesuit who does not wish me well."
"French?" inquires Mason.
"Spanish, I believe. Father Zarpazo, the Wolf of Jesus, as he is known in his native Land, though I had the misfortune to meet him in my own. He has his Training directly from those who persecuted Molinos and his followers,— he is accordingly sworn to destroy all who seek God without passing through the toll-gate of Jesus. The Molinistas, as do certain Bud?dhists of my own land, believ'd that the most direct Way to the Deity was to sit, quietly. If this meant using Jesus as but a stage on a journey, or even passing him by, why so be it. Buddhists speak of finding it neces?sary, if the Buddha be blocking one's Way, to kill him. Jesuits do not like to hear this sort of thing, of course, it puts far too much into question. If access to God need not be by way of Jesus, what is to become of Jesuits? And the sheer amount of Silence requir'd,— do you think they could ever abide that?
"Zarpazo,— as relentless in his hatred of those he hunts down as they are indifferent, in their love of God, to the passions driving him. Jansenist Convulsionaries, Crypto-Illuminati, and Neo-Quietists alike have felt his cultivated Wrath, some taken before dawn by men in black, others accosted brazenly upon the steps of cathedrals,— clapp'd into
 iron and leather restraints, going along amiably enough, puzzl'd, sure it must be a mistake.
"European docility,— no one with Power has ever under-appreciated its comforts. So you may imagine the loss of morale, among visitors such as Padre Zarpazo, before the fact of China, as they see how far from Docility they have journeyed,— and what they have come into the midst of. Wild Chinamen! How could they ever have deem'd us ready for their Jesus? Somehow Feng-Shui became their principal Enemy. Without it in the World,— is this what they believ'd?— Jesus would have a better chance of finding converts in China. Accordingly, 'twould be a holy Ser?vice to destroy Feng-Shui."
Zhang adverts to his Luo-Pan, and with fingers unhesitating proceeds to move various of its Rings forward and retrograde. Dixon, happening by, is drawn by the Instrument.
"Another Needle man,— so there's two of us. Ah hope Mason's not troubling thee upon the Topick,— he's unusually loyal to Heavenly Methods, is all."
"You would find even more congenial a Disciple of the Fuh-kien School, whose faith in the Needle is absolute,— whereas I am of the Kan-cheu School, which places the Dragon of the land above all else. Come, look. See here? These are the Moon-stations, the Stars fix'd and moving, signs of the Zodiack...we use all that,— but first comes the Dragon, and what the Needle responds to, is the Dragon's very Life."
"What Mason can't abide is that it never points to what he calls True North. As if the Needle's were False North."
"Zarpazo as well,— his Vows include one sworn to Zero Degrees, Zero Minutes, Zero Seconds, or perfect North. He is the Lord of the Zero. The Impurity of this Earth keeps him driven in a holy Rage.—  Which is why he wants this Visto."
" 'Wants— ' "
"News of the Visto will bring him surely as a Gaze brings a Suitor. Purity of Azimuth is his Passion. He was in Italy when your Sponsor Le Maire was producing the Line from Rome to Rimini, he was in Peru with La Condamine and in Lapp-land with Bouguer,— 'tis his Destiny to inflict these Tellurick Injuries, as 'tis mine to resist them.”
"I didn't know than'. Thee come here, then, to oppose our Mission...? to seek our Failure...? Why, Sir? What possible ill Motives can we be serving, in marking out this tiny bit of a Lesser Circle?"
"Once, Monsieur Allegre had as little hesitation in slicing straight thro' the carcasses of Animals and viewing aesthetickally the patterns of Bone and Fat and Flesh thus expos'd. Now, no longer! Heaven has per?mitted him to see the distinction between Blade and Body,— the aggres?sive exactitude of one, the helpless indeterminacy of the other. In that difference lies the Potency of the Sin."
"Eeh,— but,— that's Jesuit talk. Captain.—  The fell'd Trees aren't just lying there unus'd. There are plenty of Americans but a short trip away who come and fetch them for Firewood or Fences or building-Logs. How can tha think so ill of this Line? A fellow Surveyor. I cannot imagine it."
"Fret not,— my business is with the Jesuit. We happen to be the prin?cipal Persona? here, not you two! Nor has your Line any Primacy in this, being rather a Stage-Setting, dark and fearful as the Battlements of Elsi-nore, for the struggle Zarpazo and I must enact upon the very mortal Edge of this great Torrent of sha,— which at any moment either of us might slip, fall in, and be borne away, Westward, into the Vanishing-Point and gone."
"And Mason and I,— "
"Bystanders. Background. Stage-Managers of that perilous Flux,— little more."
"Eeh." Dixon thinks about it. "Well it's no worse than Copernicus, is it...? The Center of it all, moving someplace else like thah'...? Better not mention this to Mason."
P. Zarpazo being a master of disguise, Capt. Zhang, by now half insane anyway, becomes convinced that the Priest has actually penetrated the Camp, and only waits his moment to administer that poison'd Stiletto preferr'd by a Jesuit confronting Error. "It's got to be an axman," the Captain decides. "They come and go with entire freedom. Each pos?sesses a Rifle and a choice of Blades. It could be Mr. Barnes. It could even be Stig. Yes! Yes that's it, 'tis Stig!"
"Friend Zhang," soothes Dixon, "Stig is in a number of difficulties at the moment, but none includes you. He could find neither the time, nor
 the repose of Spirit, to cause you harm in any way that a Jesuit would describe as at all useful. The same is true of the other Hands. Ev'ryone is too busy."
"He's here," insists the far too bright-eyed Geomancer. "If he's not an axman, then,— he must be one of the camp-followers,— Guy Spit the Pass-bank Bully, one of those Vasquez Brothers,— even one of Mrs. Eggslap's Girls. There is no limit to his ingenuity!"
"If he were one of the Ladies, Stig would have discover'd thah' by now."
"Stig could be a Confederate!"
"Captain, pray regard yourself."
The Oriental Operative thereupon grows bodily plumb and symmet-rick,— his eyelids lower, his breathing decelerates, and presently he bows in Apology. "You're right, of course. I'm behaving like Chef Armand with his Duck. Which of us doesn't have an Unseen Persecutor? My case is probably no worse than your own."
"Mine...? Why," Dixon again fumescent, "I'm brisk as a Bee these Days. Not a care in the World. Who'd be after me?" Yet he avoids meet?ing Zhang's eyes.
' 'Tis widely assum'd that you are here on behalf of the Jesuit Le Maire, co-engineer with Boscovich, fifteen years ago, of yet another long, straight Europeans' Line, the Two Degrees of Latitude sliced across Italy from Rome to Rimini. Ever since then, Sha has flow'd unremittingly across that miserably Empoped and beduked and Dismember'd Penin?sula, Tuscany and Milan taken by Austria, Modena and Genoa by the French, despotism ev'rywhere...."
"Come, come, beg to differ, even a simple child of the Pit country knows that since that last peace Treaty, why Italy's been enjoying a long and wonderful era of prosperity and improvement. If this be Despo?tism,...?"
"Go to Italy," scolds the Captain, "and look."
"Well,— what about Maria Theresa, then...?"
"The Jesuit Protectress,— a charming exception to the reign of Bru?tality uncheck'd, throughout the rest of Christendom,— whilst your Jesuits go on attempting to eradicate Feng-Shui from human awareness, and to promote the inscription upon the Earth of these enormously long straight Lines,— as in Lapp-land, in Peru, Encyclopédistes in expedi-
tionary Costume, squirting Perfume about, and taking these exquisitely
precise Sights whilst neglecting to turn their Instruments.... Tho'
Degrees of Longitude and Latitude in Name, yet in Earthly reality are they Channels mark'd for the transport of some unseen Influence, one carefully assembl'd cairn, one Oolite Prism, one perfectly incis'd lead Plate, to the next,— when these are dispos'd in a Right Line aim'd at Ohio, it is natural to inquire, what other scientifick Workings may lie in the area— Who'd benefit most? None, it would seem, but the con?sciously criminal in Publick Life as in Private, who know how to tap into the unremitting torrent of Sha roaring all night and all day, and convert it to their own uses. Howling like a great Boulevard of souls condemn'd to wander up and down the grim surfaces."
"Moreover," now interjects Mr. Everybeet the Quartz-scryer, "west of here, in the Hills 'round Cheat and Monongahela, are secret Lead Mines, which the Indians guard jealously." These Deposits occur not as Flats, as in Durham, nor as Veins, as in Derbyshire, but rather as spherickal Caverns, of wondrous Regularity, fill'd with a Galena, remarkably pure, nearly free of other Minerals. "Perfect Spheres of Lead ore, that is, are situated inside those Mountains, often dozens of Yards across, exerting Tellurick Effects unfathomable." Mr. Everybeet now produces a power?ful Glass, beneath which he places samples of finely divided Rock. "The Limestone Matrix thro' which these Plumbaginous Orbs are distributed, proves to be of a peculiar sort, already familiar to you."
"Oolite," Mason and Dixon suppose.
"Plenty out here, ev'ryplace ye go, they sure didn't need to import it from England." The Surveyors have a look thro' the Glass, which............