has been speculated that the rape was not perhaps a one-sided affair, that Tefnut was at least a half-willing participant. So they are a close family in many ways. Too many, perhaps.
All this passes through Ra's mind as he manifests in the First Family's living quarters and eyes the bed which dominates the room. It is a bed of enormous dimensions, a world unto itself, and it is festooned with mountainous cushions and oceanic counterpanes of damasked silk, upon which the four members of the Family recline, naked, entwined, semi-asleep. It takes him a moment to distinguish one from the other, to identify this leg as Shu's and that breast as Tefnut's, this hip as Geb's and that shoulder as Nut's. They are a mass of disrobed divinity, like some protean, many-limbed organism. Even their glowing headdresses, though varied, seem similar.
Roused by Ra's arrival the Family members separate, out of politeness. They sit apart on the bed, at each of its corners, and Shu shows himself to be a wizened, weak-eyed old man, crowned with a feather, and Tefnut a flowing-haired old woman with a cobra shimmering above her. Geb, meanwhile, takes the form of a young man who, though girlishly handsome, has a goose-like cast to his features, and Nut becomes a beautiful young woman in a night-blue, star-spangled dress, her head haloed with the outline of a water pitcher.
As one, they formally greet their visitor, who responds no less formally even though he is impatient to get down to business.
''First Family,'' Ra says, ''upholders of all there is, I come in supplication, craving a boon.''
''From us?'' says Shu in his thin, wispy voice. ''The almighty Ra, seeking our help?''
Geb cackles gleefully and chants, ''Ra, Ra, he's come far, he wants our help, he's asked our pa.''
Both his sister-wife and his sometime-lover mother hiss at him to be quiet.
''Forgive my son, O Sun God whose secret name is known only to Isis,'' said Tefnut. ''You know how lacking in self-restraint Geb is,'' she adds with an indulgent smile.
Ra bows in a manner that implies understanding, if not absolution.
Nut yawns and stretches languorously, arching her back, and briefly she is a firmament, the glittering heavens, spreading vast and forever. Then, a woman once more, she says, ''Whatever is in our power to do, Ra, we shall.''
''I'm grateful,'' says Ra. ''I should warn you, though, that the favour I require of you is one that, simple as it sounds, may well prove impossible.''
''Name it anyway, Uncle,'' says Shu.
''I wish you to bring peace among your offspring.''
No sooner have the words left Ra's lips than the First Family burst out laughing.
''You could more easily bid the wind to stop blowing,'' says Shu.
''Or the rain not to fall,'' says Tefnut.
''Or the stars not to shine,'' says Nut.
''Or the ground not to tremble when there's a great big rumbling earthquake!'' cries Geb.
''I understand,'' says Ra, ''and I agree. The enmities that exist between them, between Osiris and Set particularly, seem implacable and irreconcilable. However, if anyone were able to find a way of resolving the matter, it would surely be you four, who are the very essence of oneness. You have set an example by overcoming your own disagreements. That places you well to persuade your descendants to follow suit.''
''Undoubtedly,'' says Shu. ''But the truth is, we are unable to help.''
''We would like to,'' says Tefnut, ''but cannot.''
''Too tired,'' says Nut.
''Too bored,'' says Geb.
''We are old, like you, Ra,'' says Shu. ''Old and very weary. Our battles with the other pantheons have left us worn out and drained.''
''We continue to exist,'' says Tefnut, ''but zest for life, for anything, is beyond us.''
''That's why we bequeathed the earth to our descendants,'' says Nut.
''Too much like hard work, running that place,'' says Geb.
''It seemed wise to let them inherit it,'' says Shu. ''It seemed no less wise to divide it up between them in more or less equal portions, for the sake of fairness.''
''In hindsight,'' says Tefnut, ''a mistake.''
''Their old animosities and rivalries would not stay buried,'' says Nut.
''Like Osiris himself!'' says Geb. ''Can't keep him underground for long!''
''We hoped that they would learn to work together,'' says Shu, ''instead of which their arguments only grew more vehement.''
''It wasn't our intention that the world should suffer the consequences, either,'' says Tefnut.
''But events on earth mirror events in the heavens,'' says Nut. ''That's how it's always been.''
''As above, so below,'' says Geb.
''It's a misfortune of our own making,'' admits Shu.
''We feel responsible,'' adds Tefnut. ''But not guilty.''
''And we cannot become involved,'' says Nut. ''We've done what we have done. Our struggles are over. Our lives are now rest and repose, and we wish them to stay that way.''
''So take your boon and stick it where you don't shine!'' chortles Geb.
His mother reaches across and clouts him.
''Owww!''
Shu glares at his son, eyes as icy as an arctic breeze. ''Apologise to the Light Over All That Is,'' he says. ''At once.''
''Sorry,'' Geb mumbles to Ra.
Ra feels the heat of indignation building inside him. Geb's rudeness is bad enough, but it is the First Family's general apathy that really grates.
''I suppose it was too much to hope for,'' he says, ''that you would show a scintilla of interest in the affairs of your fractious progeny. I realise now that it is much better to laze about here in perfumed splendour, caring little about what goes on around you, than feel in any way troubled by the mess you have created. The mortal realm lies in disarray, humans in their millions suffer, war and wanton destruction rule the day. But'' — he sighs theatrically — ''as long as it doesn't affect you, that's fine.''
''We care about the mortals,'' Shu retorts. ''Of course we do. Their worship sustains us, just as it sustains you.''
''It may not be formal worship,'' Tefnut adds, ''but we value it nonetheless.''
''As long as there is someone thankful for a cooling wind or a breath of fresh air…'' says Shu.
''… or a fall of rain that fills a reservoir or brings life to crops…'' says Tefnut.
''… or the fertility of the soil that the crops grow in…'' says Geb.
''… or the sight of a clear blue sky or the stars…'' says Nut.
''… then we four will have strength in our hearts and live,'' concludes Shu. ''In the same way that you, Ra, live because mortals cherish your brightness and warmth. Their joy in you is a prayer. They turn their faces up to you and bask, and your ba is replenished by their appreciation.''
''So do not presume,'' says Tefnut, ''to tell us how much or how little mortals matter to us. It insults us and demeans you.''
The First Family have risen from their shared bed. They are affronted, but also galvanized. Ra
