The old man fell silent, his eyes quiet and hooded as his mind and attention turned inward. The two of them sat there, unspeaking, in companionable self-contemplation as the sun rose higher and higher, warming the day.

Eventually, Myali stirred and broke the stillness. "Thank you," she said softly as she saw his awareness focus outward once more. "Sometimes acceptance is easier if I know why." He nodded and smiled self-consciously at her praise.

She hesitated for a moment, then made a decision and spoke.

"Father, why did you leave the Keepers and come here to tend the Judgement Hall? You were brilliant in your field, one of the most respected on Kensho. Why?"The old man sighed. "My daughter, I'm not completely sure. Ah, but then," he said, as if struck by a sudden realization, "you have a special reason for asking, don't you? Excuse my forgetfulness. Yes, yes indeed. A special reason. For you have left your work and become a Wanderer. Am I correct?"

She bowed her head in silent admission.

"And you're probably not too sure why you've chosen as you have either."

A slight nod indicated her affirmation.

"Then I suppose I have an obligation to share my ignorance with you. Indeed, yes, I do. Well. I was a population geneticist. A holistic science, filled with it's, and's, or's, and but's, quanticized to a degree- and to that degree born mimicking and mistaking Nature.

"I did my best to seek out the rules that reality runs by, to bind and hold the world so I might nudge it to useful ends.

"But one day I awoke to find myself like a man who has been standing in the cold outside a warm house, measuring and contemplating the door rather than knocking and asking to be let in. I sought to put a purpose on nature when its very essence is merely that it is. I searched out the names of things and took them for the things themselves and ended speaking into emptiness.

"Only a fool would try to live without names, but only a bigger fool would try to live by them alone.

Suddenly I knew it was not enough to know something from outside. It wasn't enough to know how to manipulate a thing. So I sought the inside of reality, the experience of being.

"Now I seek the ground of my existence. I try to find the place my perceptions come from, to pierce the veil of what seems to be and find what is. I search for knowing rather man knowledge.

"Someday I may succeed. And then I can return to the names and naming. But I will know them for what they are and will see, really see, the things they stand for.

"More man that I can't tell you. And I've only one small piece of advice to offer: The only way to find wisdom is to plumb the depths of your own ignorance." With that he rose, bowed to Myali, and disappeared back inside the Judgement Hall.

After a few moments, she stood and looked about. Which direction shall I take today? she wondered. She shrugged. Since my answer is as likely to lie in any one as the other, it makes no real difference. She began to walk toward the north.

For a while she followed the floor of the valley in which the Judgement Hall lay. Then, feeling a sudden need for wider horizons, she began to climb the valley wall to her left. The way was steep, but she finally made it, only to see more hills, steeper yet, stretching off to the edge of the sky.

She was about to begin moving again when a faint voice sounded in her mind. Myali?

Josh? she answered in surprise.

Yes, the voice became stronger. We've been searching for you. You've run far.

Not run, walked. I'm not escaping anything. I'm looking for it.

Whatever, came the reply. But this isn't a personal call. It's taking five of us to hold the network open over this distance. Myali, the Way-Farer has called the Council to meeting at First Touch.

The girl's mouth fell open in surprise. Meeting?

Ay, immediately. All twelve.

But, she began to protest, I'm Wandering. I...

Myali, this is your fiveyear on the Council, Wanderer or not.

Yes, but why a meeting?

Girl, they've arrived.

Stunned, she was incapable of even answering. Finally she pulled herself together enough to ask, Truth?

She felt the mental shrug. As much as anything. They're behind the Slow Moon. They've got a ring of sensors around the planet and have even sent in low-flying photo-probes. You've got to come now, Myali. We have a lot of planning to do.

G.o.d! she cried. It'll take me a week to get there, even if I run most of the way!

We're going to s.n.a.t.c.h you.

Dismay filled her mind. s.n.a.t.c.h me? That far?Josh chuckled. There's a first time for everything. I think we can manage it. We're going to try it with the full Council in the network. Minus you, of course.

And if you fail, I end up Between.

We won't fail. Ready?

Now? Right now?

Now, he answered. And she disappeared.

III.

The young woman's sobbing had finally turned to mere sniffling and sighs. And not a moment too soon, thought Bishop Thwait as he patted her shoulder rea.s.suringly. d.a.m.n, how I hate it when they snivel this way. What's done is done. And she'd have wailed a lot louder if she hadn't informed on him and had gotten herself mindwiped along with him! Weakness, weakness. How he despised it.

Pity, though. Dunn was one of my more promising acolytes. He sighed. Ah, well. Heresy is heresy, and improper use of the Names of Power is one of the worst sins possible! Besides, anyone foolish enough to commit a crime like that and then tell his mate about it obviously wasn't all that promising after all. No loss, really.

Not true, he corrected himself. What Dunn did requires a good deal of intelligence and imagination.

Or just plain luck. His fault wasn't stupidity. It was weakness. An inability to bear the burden of his secret by himself. If the man had kept silent, simply continued in his crime, ama.s.sing more and more data, more and more Power, who knows what he might have accomplished? But weakness in any form is dangerous. And despite his intelligence and daring, it was the man's weakness that destroyed him.

Remember that, Andrew, he told himself.

Yoko, the young woman, was looking up at him, a pleading look in her tear-damp eyes. "Worship,"

she barely whispered, "what will happen to him?"

"Child, I will talk to him to discover the nature and depth of his sin. Perhaps he will receive only a mild rebuke. I cannot say until I have spoken with him." Mindwipe at the very least. Total readjustment most likely. "But do not fret, my child. There is no blot of sin on your soul. You have done as the Power requires. For the good of yourself, for the race, and indeed even for his own good. Your errand was one of mercy and compa.s.sion for his soul." You betrayed your mate of seven years. You've doomed him, destroyed him. "Now go in peace, child. Stop by the infirmary and ask the Brother there to give you something to settle your nerves. And thank you for your service to the Power."

The young woman rose to go, then hesitated and suddenly knelt in front of the bishop with her head bowed. Her voice was heavy with misery as she mumbled, "Please, Worship. Your blessing before I go."

With a mental sigh of exasperation, Andrew lifted both hands to make the Sign of the Circle over the kneeling woman's head. "May the Power guide and protect you," he intoned solemnly. "May the Word of the Power be ever on your lips and in your heart and your mind. Be with the Power and it shall be with you. In the name of the holy Kuvaz, so be it and so it shall be." Without looking up, Yoko rose and silently left the room.

For a moment, Bishop Thwait stood gazing at the floor where the young woman had knelt. Then he spun on his heel and moved swiftly to his comm-unit. He punched in Security's code, waited for a second or so as the computer put him through.

A face he knew well came on the screen. "Worship," the man said, no flicker of surprise or emotion showing on his harsh features. The inclination of the head in greeting was barely proper, but respectful enough to allow no valid grounds for complaint. Andrew smiled inwardly. Chandra had been his chief of security for some thirteen years now. They understood each other thoroughly.

"Acolyte Yoko Rabb is on her way to the infirmary. I want her sedated and probed. When you've completed that, we'll decide if any restructuring is necessary."

"Yes, Worship. What are we looking for?"

"Hmmmmmm. Seeds of heresy. She just informed on her mate.""So. It will be done. And the mate?"

"Dunn Jameson, Acolyte Third, Drive Engineer."

"I know the man. Stubborn. Secretive. Few friends. Seldom partic.i.p.ates voluntarily in activities.

Spends inordinate amounts of time in hookup. We've been watching him."

"Bring him to me in the Room, Chandra. Whole, unharmed, but sedated. Use alpha seventeen."

"You're preparing for readjustment?"

"Possible, possible."

"It will be done, Worship." Chandra bowed, more deeply this time, a look of grim satisfaction flashing briefly across his features.

As Andrew blanked the screen, he chuckled. The man is a monster, he thought. But he so enjoys his work. The only problem is that sometimes his enthusiasm carries him away a bit. Hmmmm. Best have the girl checked later for conception. No sense in allowing any unauthorized pregnancies. Chandra does love his work. Especially that kind of work.

He looked longingly over at the piles of sensor readouts and probe photos that littered the floor around his favorite chair. Data was still pouring in, and although he knew the computer was totally capable of correlating and a.n.a.lyzing it without his help, he still felt compelled to go over everything personally. After all, he reasoned, there was always an outside chance that some low-order probability, something the computer would ordinarily rate as of minor importance, might actually be the key to the whole situation. And furthermore, the culture below, despite its Earthly origins, had been isolated from those origins and had been developing for many hundreds of years in response to an alien environment.

So the possibility existed, however slight, that some of its aspects might also be alien and hence outside the parameters the computer was programmed to handle.

So far, he had to admit, aside from a strangely mixed technology, everything seemed pretty straightforward. But something continued to bother him about the whole setup. He had a nagging feeling he was missing some crucial piece of information. Call it a hunch, or over-meticulousness, or whatever, he knew he'd never rest easy until he'd resolved it. Besides, playing hunches and paying close attention to details was how he'd built his career. He wasn't about to change his style now.

Shrugging off his frustration with this inconvenient delay in his studies, he walked slowly over to his bookshelf. What must be must be, he thought. Best get it over and done with so I can get back to more important matters. He stood in front of the bookshelf for a few moments, gazing fondly at the twenty or so volumes sitting there in neat rows. My one luxury, he admitted. Lovely, lovely, but inefficient. Yet I enjoy their ma.s.s and feel. So much better than cubes and a reader. So different from hookup. He reached out and pulled one ma.s.sive tome from its place. So much more impressive to conduct a questioning with the Book actually in your hands, he thought. Just the kind of thing that will unsettle Dunn.

He hefted the weight of me book, savoring its solidity.

Turning, he moved to the door, palmed it open and stepped into the corridor. He paced along at a stately rate, nodding to the hurrying novices and acolytes who stopped dead in their tracks and bowed deeply as he pa.s.sed. It was a relatively short walk to the Room, so he took his time.

The entrance to the Room was slightly wider than the average door, since many arrived there unconscious, on powered gurneys. But it was unremarkable in any other way. He paused briefly before it, then palmed it open and entered.

Lights came on as he stepped across the threshold. The banks of instruments sprang to instant life and a subtle, almost imperceptible hum filled the air. Sub-sonics, he knew. To unsettle those being questioned. The training necessary to control the vague fear they engendered was given only to those high within the hierarchy.

He put the Book on a table which stood almost dead center in the room. He would sit behind it during the questioning. Directly in front of it, some five or six feet closer to the door, was the chair.

Carefully he checked it over, making sure that all the hookups were clean and ready to be attached to his subject. Finally, he went over to the instrument panels and did a routine check of all the readouts. He punched Dunn's name and number into the machine through a keyboard and then hit the "Ready" b.u.t.ton.

Everything was set.As he turned back toward the center of the room, he heard a knock at the door. He moved quickly to take up his position behind the table, then, settled, he called out, "Enter." The door slid back and revealed Chandra. Behind the security chief was Dunn, his face slack, flanked by two guards.

"Ah, Dunn, my child," Bishop Thwait called out. "Come in, come in. How nice of you to stop by."

Chandra grinned viciously as he ushered the young acolyte to the chair and strapped him in. As he began to attach the hookups, however, Thwait waved him away. "Not yet, Chandra. The straps are enough for now. He is quite immobile. Not to mention sedated. I want to talk with him a while first. You may leave now." The security chief scowled briefly, but bowed and then left with the two guards.

Bishop Thwait sat silent for several moments after the door closed, staring solemnly at Dunn. What makes this one so different from all the rest? he wondered. About six feet tall, he estimated, with broad shoulders and a lean, athletic body. He obviously takes his mandatory physical-conditioning workouts seriously. The face was a strong one, square, solid, with a firm, straight nose and a mouth even now set in a line of stubborn determination. The eyes were an intriguing shade of bluish green, the short, curly hair blond with a slight reddish highlight. A rather handsome face, in a rugged way, Andrew thought. But open, naked to the world. He doubted the man could hide even the mildest emotion. Happiness, grief, doubt, confidence, hate, love-whatever he felt, he would announce to the world through his expressions. I'll probably learn as much by watching this one as by listening to him, he decided. All the more reason to question him without drugs.

Completing his appraisal, Andrew rose, came around from behind the table, and stood squarely in front of the young man, gazing down at him with a calm and benign smile on his lips. "Ummmmmm," he began, "Chandra has been overly enthusiastic again, I see. That is a nasty bruise on your forehead. Also, too much sedation. You are so numb you cannot even respond." He snapped his fingers and spoke to the air. "Equipment." At his command, a small column suddenly rose up out of the floor near his right foot. The top opened and inside lay several instruments, including a number of syringes filled with pale amber and green fluids. He picked one up and held it out for the other man to see. "Old fashioned, isn't it? Imagine, using syringes nowadays! But the symbology is so fraught with horror that it appeals to me and is ideally suited for questioning. Now this one is really nothing to be afraid of. It will simply counteract the sedative you have been given. So we can talk." He took a swift step to Dunn's side, and jabbed the needle into the man's neck right by the jugular vein. "Swifter this way, if harder on your system," he muttered. "But then, no need to worry about that if you are to be readjusted."

Watching Dunn carefully, he moved back to his chair and sat down. The young man's eyes brightened quickly and he shook his head as if trying to clear it. With a start he looked around, fear growing in his gaze.

Finally, his eyes settled on Bishop Thwait and turned hard. "Worship," he muttered automatically.

"You know why you are here, Dunn?"

"I imagine because my loving mate informed on me," he answered, his voice heavy with anger at the betrayal.

"Then you realize there is no hope? No reason to hold back any of the truth?"

Dunn barked a harsh laugh. "The truth? What do you care about the truth?"

Andrew was startled by the young man's att.i.tude. "My child," he said smoothly, "your immortal soul is in great peril."

Dunn laughed again, bitterness transforming his face. "You can have my 'immortal soul.' Just leave my mind alone."

"You have sinned," the bishop sighed. "You have misused the Names of Power, sought unauthorized data, diverted the privilege of hookup to your own ends. Surely you know the severity of what you have done. And the penalty. " Dunn simply stared at him with open hostility. Andrew sighed. "No repentance.

I suspected such would be the case."

Suddenly he changed his tone and manner. "You have your choice, Dunn. You can tell me about it willingly or I will rip it out of your mind with the machine," he snarled.

The young man didn't bat an eyelash. "You haven't asked me anything, yet. I've no reason not to answer. Try me.""All right. What did you do? Exactly."

"I stumbled over three Names of Power that gave access to restricted areas of data. I think at least two of them are part of the Ten. But the third was the most interesting. He was a historian of the period just before the Readjustment."

"Hmmmmmm," mused the Bishop, his right fingers stroking his chin. "I was unaware the computer on this scout contained such information. The names?"

Dunn responded with a feral grin. "Gone. After I told Yoko and saw her reaction, I realized what a stupid thing I 'd done. I went into hookup and had them erased. If I can't have them, n.o.body else will either," he finished defiantly.

Thwait was quiet for several moments. His eyes studied the seated acolyte's features with a considering gaze. "Very clever, Dunn. I admire your resolution. I could use a man like you. Indeed I could."

"Never. After what I discovered about the Power and how it rose to ascendancy, I'll never work for you of my own free will. Readjustment would be a blessing compared to that."

"The establishment of the Power saved the Earth from destruction by the forces of regression."

"Bulls.h.i.t. The Power is the force of regression."

"The Power is all the knowledge mankind has gathered in its lifetime, used wisely and carefully for betterment."

Dunn laughed out loud. "How you twist words and shift meanings! The Power controls knowledge, keeps it under lock and key. It's stopped the gathering of any new knowledge and totally destroyed the scientific effort that created the knowledge in the first place. It lives off the wisdom of the past, has a stranglehold on the present, and by killing science, it kills the future."

"Not so, my child. The science of the period before the Readjustment ruined our planet. It made Earth such a stinking waste that the Great Pilgrimage became a necessity. And even then, even surrounded by the evidence of its own destructiveness, it went on and on, seeking more and more power. We broke that power, for the good of all, to save the immortal soul of the human race. We have enough knowledge, more than we can possibly even digest. It will take centuries to sift through all of it and evaluate what is good and what is evil. In the meantime, the Power protects us from ourselves. It gives the people that part of the knowledge they need to make their lives better."