Myst: The Book of Ti'ana

by Rand Miller & David Wingrove



PART ONE
ECHOES IN THE ROCK

The sounding capsule  was embedded in  the rock face  like a giant  crystal, its
occupants sealed within the translucent, soundproofed cone.

The Guild Master  sat facing the  outstretched tip of  the cone, his  right hand
resting  delicately on  the long  metal shaft  of the  sounder, his  blind  eyes
staring at the solid rock, listening.

Behind him, his two  young assistants leaned forward  in their narrow metal  and
mesh seats, concentrating,  their eyes shut  tight as they  attempted to discern
the tiny variations in the returning signal.

"Na'grenis," the old  man said, the  D'ni word almost  growled as his  left hand
moved across the top sheet of the many-layered map that rested on the map  table
between his knees. Brittle.

It was the tenth  time they had sent  the signal out on  this line, each time  a
little stronger, the echoes in the rock changing subtly as it penetrated  deeper
into the mass.

"Kenen voohee shuhteejoo," the younger  of his two assistants said  tentatively.
It could be rocksalt.

"Or chalk," the other added uncertainly.

"Not this deep," the old man said authoritatively, flicking back the transparent
sheets until he came to one deep in the pile. Holding it open, he reached beside
him and took a bright red marker from the metal rack.

"Ah," the two assistants said as  one, the carmine mark as clear  an explanation
as if he'd spoken.

"We'll sound either side," the old man said after a moment. "It might only be  a
pocket...."

He slipped the marker back into the rack, then reached out and took the ornately
decorated shaft of the  sounder, delicately moving it  a fraction to the  right,
long experience shaping his every movement.

"Same strength," he said. "One pulse, fifty beats, and then a second pulse."

At once his First Assistant leaned forward, adjusting the setting on the dial in
front of him.

There was a moment's silence and then a vibration rippled along the shaft toward
the tapered tip of the cone.

A single, pure, clear note sounded in the tiny chamber, like an invisible  spike
reaching out into the rock.

                                   *   *   *

"What is he doing?"

Guild Master Telanis turned  from the observation window  to look at his  guest.
Master Kedri was a big, ungainly man.  A member of the Guild of Legislators,  he
was here to observe the progress of the excavation.

"Guild Master Geran is surveying the rock. Before we drill we need to know  what
lies ahead of us."

"I understand that," Kedri said impatiently. "But what is the problem?"

Telanis stifled  the irritation  he felt  at the  man's bad  manners. After all,
Kedri was technically his superior, even if, within his own craft, Telams's word
was as law.

"I'm not sure exactly, but from the mark he made I'd say he's located a patch of
igneous material. Magma-based  basaltic rocks from  a fault line,  perhaps, or a
minor intrusion."

"And that's a problem?"

Telanis smiled politely.  "It could be.  If it's minor  we could drill  straight
through it, of course,  and support the tunnel,  but we're still quite  deep and
there's a lot of weight above us. The pressures here are immense, and while they
might not crush us,  they could inconvenience us  and set us back  weeks, if not
months. We'd prefer, therefore, to be certain of what lies ahead."

Kedri huffed.  "It all  seems rather  a waste  of time  to me. The lining rock's
strong, isn't it?"

"Oh, very  strong, but  that's not  the point.  If the  aim were merely to break
through to the surface we  could do that in a  matter of weeks. But that's  .not
our brief. These tunnels are meant to be permanent-or, at least, as permanent as
we can make them, rock movement willing!"

Still, Kedri seemed unsatisfied. "All this stopping and starting! A man could go
mad with waiting!"

One could; and some,  unsuited to the task,  did. But of all  the guilds ofD'ni,
this, Telanis knew, was the one best suited to their nature.

"We are a patient race, Master Kedri,"  he said, risking the anger of the  other
man. "Patient and thorough. Would you  have us abandon the habits of  a thousand
generations?"

Kedri made to answer  curtly, then saw the  look of challenge in  Telanis's eyes
and nodded. "No. You are right, Guild Master. Forgive me. Perhaps they chose the
wrong man to represent our guild."

Perhaps, Telanis thought, but aloud he said. "Not at all, Master Kedri. You will
get used to it, I promise. And we  shall do our best to keep you busy  while you
are here. I shall have my assistant, Aitrus, assigned to you."

And now Kedri  smiled, as if  this was what  he had been  angling for all along.
"That is most kind. Master Telanis. Most kind, indeed."

                                   *   *   *

The excavator  was quiet,  the lighting  subdued. Normally,  the idle chatter of
young crewmen would have rilled the narrow corridor, but since the observers had
come there was a strange silence to the craft that made it seem abandoned.

As  the  young guildsman  walked  along its  length,  he glanced  about  warily.
Normally he  took such  sights for  granted, but  today he  seemed to see it all
anew. Here  in the  front section,  just behind  the great  drill, was the Guild
Master's cabin and, next to it, through a bulkhead that would seal automatically
in times of emergency,  the chart room. Beyond  that, opening out to  both right
and left of the corridor, was the equipment room.

The excavator was as self-contained as any ship at sea, everything stored,  each
cupboard and drawer secured  against sudden jolts, but  here the purpose of  the
craft was nakedly displayed, the massive rock drills lain neatly in their racks,
blast-marble  cylinders,  protective  helmets, and  analysis  tubes  racked like
weaponry.

The young guildsman stopped, looking back along the length of the craft.  He.was
a tall, athletic-looking  young man with  an air of  earnestness about him.  His
dark red  jumpsuit fit  him comfortably  rather than  tightly; the  broad, black
leather tool  belt at  his waist  and his  long black  leather boots part of the
common uniform worn by all the members of the expedition.

His fine black hair was cut short and neat, accentuating his fineboned features,
while his eyes were pale but keen. Intelligent, observant eyes.

He passed on, through the crew quarters-the empty bunks stacked three to a  side
into the curve of the ship's  walls, eighteen bunks in all-and, passing  through
yet another bulkhead, into the refectory.

Master  Jerahl, the  ship's cook,  looked up  from where  he was  preparing  the
evening meal and smiled.

"Ah, Aitrus. Working late again?"

"Yes, Guild Master."

Jerahl  grinned  paternally.  "Knowing  you,  you'll  be  so  engrossed  in some
experiment,  you'll  miss  your  supper. You  want  me  to  bring you  something
through?"

"Thank you, Guild Master. That would be most welcome."

"Not at  all, Aitrus.  It's good  to see  such keenness  in a young guildsman. I
won't say it to their faces, but some of your fellows think it's enough to carry
out  the  letter of  their  instructions and  no  more. But  people  notice such
things."

Aitrus smiled.

"Oh, some find me-foolish, Aitrus, I know. It's hard not to overhear things on a
tiny ship like this. But I was not always a cook. Or, should I say, only a cook.
I trained much as you train now, to be a Surveyor-to know the ways of the  rock.
And much  of what  I learned  remains embedded  here in  my head.  But I  wasn't
suited. Or, should I say, I found myself better suited to this occupation."

"You trained, Master Jerahl?"

"Of course, Aitrus. You think they would allow me on an expedition like this  if
I were not a skilled geologist?"  Jerahl grinned. "Why, I spent close  on twenty
years specializing in stress mechanics."

Aitrus stared at Jerahl a moment, then shook his head. "I did not know."

"Nor were you expected to. As long as you enjoy the meals I cook, I am content."

"Of that I've no complaints."

"Then good. Go on through. I shall bring you something in a while."

Aitrus walked on, past  the bathing quarters and  the sample store, and  on into
the tail of the craft. Here the corridor ended with a solid metal door that  was
always kept closed.  Aitrus reached up  and pulled down  the release handle.  At
once the door hissed  open. He stepped through,  then heard it hiss  shut behind
him.

A single light burned on the wall facing him. In its half-light he could see the
work surface that ran  flush with the curved  walls at waist height,  forming an
arrowhead. Above and below it,  countless tiny cupboards held the  equipment and
chemicals they used for analysis.

Aitrus  went across  and, putting  his notebook  down on  the worktop,   quickly
selected what he would need from various cupboards.

This was  his favorite-place  in the  ship. Here  he could  forget all  else and
immerse himself in the pure, unalloyed joy of discovery.

Aitrus reached up, flicking his fingernail against the firemarble in the bowl of
the lamp, then, in the burgeoning glow,  opened his notebook to the page he  had
been working

                                   *   *   *

"Aitrus?"

Aitrus took his  eye from the  lens and turned,  surprised he had  not heard the
hiss of the  door. Jerahl was  standing there, holding  out a plate  to him. The
smell of freshly  baked chorbahkh and  ikhah nijuhets wafted  across, making his
mouth water.

Jerahl smiled. "Something interesting?"

Aitrus took the plate and nodded. "You want to see?"

"May I?" Jerahl  stepped across and,  putting his eye  to the lens,  studied the
sample a moment. When he looked up again there was a query in his eyes.

"Tachyltye, eh? Now why would a young fellow like you be interested in  basaltic
glass?"

"I'm interested in anything  to do with lava  flows," Aitrus answered, his  eyes
aglow. "It's what I want to specialize in, ultimately. Volcanism."

Jerahl smiled as  if he understood.  "All that heat  and pressure, eh?  I didn't
realize you were so romantic, Aitrus!"

Aitrus, who had begun to eat  the meat-filled roll, paused and looked  at Jerahl
in surprise. He had heard his fascination called many things by his  colleagues,
but never "romantic."

"Oh, yes," Jerahl went on, "once you have seerf how this is formed, nothing will
ever again impress half so much!  The meeting of superheated rock and  ice-chill
water-it is a powerful combination. And this-this strange translucent  matter-is
the result."

Again Jerahl  smiled. "Learning  to control  such power,  that is  where we D'ni
began as a  species. That is  where our spirit  of inquiry was  first awoken. So
take heart, Aitrus. In this you are a true son of D'ni."

Aitrus smiled back at the older man. "I am sorry we have not spoken before  now.
Guild Master. I did not know you knew so much."

"Oh, I claim to  know very little, Aitrus.  At least, by comparison  with Master
Telanis. And while we  are talking of the  good Guild Master, he  was asking for
you not long back. I promised him I would feed you, then send you to his cabin."

Aitrus, who had just lifted the roll to his mouth again, paused. "Master Telanis
wants me?"

Jerahl gestured toward  the roll. "Once  you've been fed.  Now finish that  or I
shall feel insulted."

"Whatever you say. Master!" And, grinning, Aitrus bit deep into the roll.

                                   *   *   *

Aitrus stopped before the Guild Master's  cabin and, taking a moment to  prepare
himself, reached out and rapped upon the door.

The voice from inside was calm and assured. "Come in!"

He slid back  the heavy bolt  and stepped inside,  closing the door  behind him.
That much  was habit.  Every door  in the  craft was  a barrier  against fire or
unwelcome gases. Turning, he saw that Master Telanis was at his desk looking  at
the latest  survey chart.  Facing him  across the  table was  Master Geran. Also
there were the four Observers who had joined them three days back. Aitrus took a
step toward them and bowed.

"You sent for me, Guild Master?"

"I did. But if you would wait a moment, Aitrus, I must first deal with the  news
Master Geran has brought us."

Aitrus lowered his head, conscious  that the Legislator- the big  man, Kedri-was
watching him closely.

"So, Geran," Telanis went on, indicating the bright red line that ran across the
chart in front of him, "you recommend that we circumvent this area?"

The  blind  man  nodded.  "The  fault  itself  is  narrow,  admittedly,  but the
surrounding rock is of low density and likely to collapse. We could cut  through
it, of course, and shore  up on either side, but  I'd say there is more  to come
the other side of that."

"You know that?" Kedri asked, interrupting the two.

Geran turned his blank, unseeing eyes upon the Legislator and smiled. "I do  not
know it. Master Kedri, but my instinct is  that this is the mere root of a  much
larger igneous  intrusion. Part  of a  volcanic system.  Imagine the  roots of a
tree.  So  such  things  are.  As   excavators,  we  try  hard  to  avoid   such
instabilities. We look for hard, intact rock. Rock we have no need to support."

Kedri looked puzzled  at that. "But  I thought it  was your practice  to support
everything?"

Telanis answered him. "We do. Guild Master. As I said, we are very thorough. But
if it is as Master Geran says-and long experience would tend to bear him  out-we
would do well to drill sideways  a way before continuing our ascent.  After all,
why go courting trouble?"

"So how long will this ... detour take?"

Telanis smiled pleasantly. "A week. Maybe two."

Kedri looked far from pleased, yet he said nothing. Relieved, Telanis looked  to
Geran once more.

"In the circumstances I approve your recommendation, Master Geran. We shall move
back and across. Arrange the survey at once."

Geran smiled. "I shall do it myself. Guild Master."

When Geran was gone, Telanis looked across at Aitrus.

"Aitrus, step forward."

Aitrus crossed the narrow cabin, taking the place Geran had just vacated.  "Yes,
Guild Master?"

"I want  you to  place yourself  at Guild  Master Kedri's  disposal for the next
eleven days. I want you to show him how things work and explain to him just what
we are doing. And  if there's anything you  yourself are uncertain of,  you will
ask someone who dots know. Understand me?"

Surprised,  Aitrus  nodded.  "Yes,  Guild  Master."  Then,  hesitantly.  "And my
experiments, Guild Master?"

Telanis looked to Kedri. "That depends  upon Master Kedri. If he permits,  I see
no reason why you should not continue with them."

Kedri turned to Aitrus. "Experiments, Guildsman?"

Aitrus looked down, knowing suddenly that  he ought not to have mentioned  them.
"It does not matter, Master."

"No, Aitrus. I am interested. What experiments are these?"

Aitrus  looked  up shyly.  "I  am studying  volcanic  rocks, Master.  I  wish to
understand all I can about their nature and formation."

Kedri seemed impressed. "A most worthy task, young Aitrus. Perhaps you would  be
kind enough to show me these experiments?"

Aitrus looked to Telanis, hoping his Master would somehow get him off the  hook,
but Telanis was staring at the multilayered chart Geran had given him,  flipping
from page to page and frowning.

Aitrus met Kedri's eyes again, noting how keenly the other watched him. "As  you
wish, Guild Master."

                                   *   *   *

The cavern in which they rested was a perfect sphere, or would have been but for
the platform on which the two  excavators lay. The craft were long  and sinuous,
like huge, segmented worms, their tough exteriors kept buffed and polished  when
they were not burrowing in the rock.

Metal  ladders went  down beneath  the gridwork  platform to  a second,  smaller
platform to which the  junior members of the  expedition had had their  quarters
temporarily removed to make way for their guests. It was to here, after a  long,
exhausting day  of explanations,  that Aitrus  returned, long  after most of his
colleagues had retired.

There  were  thirty-six of  them  in all,  none  older than  thirty_all  of them
graduates  of  the  Academy;  young  guilds-men  who  had  volunteered  for this
expedition Some had given up and been replaced along the way, but more than  two
-thirds of the original crews remained

Two years, four months, Aitrus thought as he sat on the edge of his bedroll  and
began to pull off his  boots. It was a long  time to be away from  home He could
have gone home, of  course-Master Telanis would have  given him leave if  he had
asked-but that would have seemed  like cheating, somehow. No, an  expedition was
not really an expedition if one could go home whenever one wished

Even as he kicked his other boot  off, he felt the sudden telltale vibration  in
the  platform, followed  an instant  or two  later by  a low,  almost  inaudible
rumble. A Messenger was coming'

The expedition had cut its way through several miles of rock, up from one of the
smaller,  outermost  caverns  of  D'ni. They  could,  of  course,  have gone  up
vertically, like a mine shaft, but so  direct a route into D'ni was thought  not
merely inadvisable but dangerous The preferred scheme-the scheme the Council had
eventually agreed upon-was a far more  indirect route, cut at a maximum  of 3825
torans-22032 degrees-from the horizontal One that could be walked

One that could also be sealed oi-fwith gates and defended.

The rumbling grew, slowly but steadily. You could hear the sound of the  turbine
engines now.

Slowly  but  surely they  had  burrowed through  the  rock, surveying  each  one
-hundred-span section carefully before they drilled, coating the surfaces with a
half-span thickness of special D'ni rock, more durable than marble Last, but not
least,  they  fitted heavy  stone  brackets into  the  ceiling of  each  section
-brackets that carried air from the pumping stations back in D'ni.

Between  each straight-line  section was  one of  these spherical  "nodes"-these
resting places where they could carry on experiments while Master Geran and  his
assistants charted the next stage  of their journey through the  earth-each node
fitted with an airtight gate that could be sealed in an instant.

The rumbling grew to a roar. For a moment the sound of it filled the node,  then
the engines  cut out  and there  was the  downward whine  of the turbines as the
Messenger slowed.

Aitrus turned and stood, watching as the metal snout of the machine emerged from
the entry tunnel, passing through the  thick collar of the node-gate, its  pilot
clearly visible through the transparent front debris shield

It was a large, tracked vehicle,  its three long segments making it  seem clumsy
in comparison to the  sleek excavators, but as  ever Aitrus was glad  to see it,
for besides  bringing them  much-needed supplies-it  being impossible  to "link"
supplies direct from D'ni into the tunnels-it also brought letters from home

"Aitrus? What time is it?"

Aitrus turned. His friend Jemr had woken and was sitting up.

"Ninth bell," he answered, bending down  to retrieve his boots and pull  them on
again

Others had also been  woken by the Messenger's  arrival, and were sitting  up or
climbing from their beds, knowing there was unloading to be done.

He himself had been temporarily excused from such duties; even so, as the others
drifted across to the laSders and  began to ascend, he followed, curious  to see
if anything had come for him.

When the last Messenger  had come, three days  back, it had brought  nothing but
the  Observers-those  unexpected "guests"  billeted  upon them  by  the Council.
Before that it had been almost three weeks since they had had contact with D'ni.
Three solid weeks without news.

The Messenger had come to rest between the two excavators. Already its  four-man
crew were busy, running pipelines between the middle segment of their craft  and
the two much larger  vehicles, ready to transfer  its load of mechanical  parts,
equipment, drill bits, fuel, and cooling fluid to the excavators.

Aitrus yawned, then walked across. The young men of the Messengers Guild were of
nature outward, friendly types, and seeing him, one of them hailed him.

"Ho! Aitrus! There's a parcel for you!"

"A parcel?"

The Messenger gestured toward where one  of his colleagues was carrying a  large
mesh basket into the forward cabin of the left-hand excavator.

Aitrus turned and looked, then hurried after, almost running into Master Telanis
coming out.

"Aitrus! Why such a hurry?"

"Forgive me. Guild Master. I was told there was a parcel for me."

"Ah," Telanis made to  walk on, then stopped,  lowering his voice. "By  the way,
how was our guest?"

Tiring, he wanted to answer. "Curious," he said after a moment, keeping his  own
voice low. "Oh, and imaginative."

Telanis frowned. "How so?"

"It would  seem we  are too  cautious for  him, Guild  Master. 'Our methods are,
well... inefficient."

Telanis considered that,  then nodded. "We  must talk, Aitrus.  Tomorrow. Early,
perhaps, before  Master Kedri  has need  of you.  There are  things you  need to
know."

Aitrus bowed. "I shall call on you at third bell. Master."

"Good. Now go and see what the Messengers have brought."

Master Tejara of the Messengers had commandeered the table in the chart room  to
sort out the post. Surrounded by shelves of bound surveys, he looked up from his
work as Aitrus entered.

"Ah, Aitrus. And how are you today?"

"I am well, Guild Master."

Tejara flashed a smile at him. "You've heard, then?"

"Master?" But Aitrus's eyes had  already gone to the large,  square parcel-bound
in cloth and stitched-that rested to one side of the cable.

"Here," Master Tejara said, handing it to him.

Aitrus took it,  surprised by how  heavy it seemed.  Unable to help  himself, he
held it to his ear and shook it gently.

There was a gentle chime.

"Well?" Tejara said, grinning at him now. "Are you going to open it or not?"

Aitrus hesitated a moment, then set the  parcel down on the table and, taking  a
slender chisel from his tool belt, slit open the stitching. The cloth fell back.

Inside was a tiny wooden case, the top surface of which was a sliding panel.  He
slid it back and looked inside.

"By the Maker!"

Aitrus reached in  and drew out  the delicate, golden  pair of portable  scales.
They were  perfect, the  spring mechanism  of the  finest make,  the soft  metal
inlaid with tiny silver D'ni numerals. Nor were they the only thing. Setting the
scales down  carefully, he  reached in  once more  and took  out a  flat, square
rosewood box the size of his palm. Opening it, Aitrus stared openmouthed at  the
exposed pair of  D'ni geological compasses,  his fingertips gently  brushing the
tiny crystal magnifier  that enabled one  to read the  tiny calibrations. For  a
moment he  simply looked,  studying the  minute transparent  dials and  delicate
adjustable attachments that overlay the simple circle of its working face,  then
shook his head in wonder.

"Is it your Naming Day, Aitrus?" Tejara asked.

"No," Aitrus  said distractedly  as he  reached in  a third  time to lift out an
envelope marked simply "Guildsman Aitrus" in an unfamiliar hand.

He frowned, then  looked to Tejara,  who simply shrugged.  Slitting the envelope
open, he took out the single sheet and unfolded it.

"Aitrus," it began,

        You might remember  me from school  days. I realize  we were not
        the  best of  friends, but  we were  both  young  then and  such
        misunderstandings happen.  Recently, however,  I chanced  upon a
        report you wrote  among my father's  papers and was  reminded of
        those unfortunate days,  and it occurred  to me that  I might do
        something to attempt to reverse your poor opinion of me. If  the
        enclosed gifts are unwelcome, please forgive me. But I hope  you
        will accept them in the  same spirit with which they  are given.
        Good luck with your explorations!
        
        Yours in friendship,
        Veovis.


Aitrus looked up, astonished to see that signature at the foot of the note.

"It is from Veovis," he said quietly. "Lord Rakeri's son."

Tejara looked surprised. "Veovis is your friend, Aitrus?"

Aitrus shook his head. "No. At least, he was no friend to me at school."

"Then these gifts are a surprise?"

"More a shock, to be honest. Guild Master. Yet people change, I suppose."

Tejara nodded emphatically. "You can be certain of it, Aitrus. Time teaches many
things. It is the rock in which we bore."

Aitrus smiled at the old saying.

"Oh, and before I forget," Tejara added, handing him his mail, "there are  three
letters for you this time."

                                   *   *   *

Aitrus lay there a long time, unable to sleep, staring at the pattern of shadows
on the smooth, curved wall of the node, wondering what the gifts meant.

His letters had contained the  usual, cheerful news from home-chatter  about old
friends from his mother, word of  Council matters from his father. But  his mind
kept going back to the note.

That Veovis had written at all was amazing, that he had sent gifts was ... well,
astonishing!

And not just any gifts, but just those things that he most needed in his work.

Oh, there  were plenty  of scales  and compasses  he could  use-property of  the
guild-but not  his own.  Nor were  the guild's  instruments anything  as fine as
those Veovis  had given  him. Why,  they were  as good  as those  that hung from
Master Telanis's own tool belt!

When finally  he did  manage to  sleep, it  was to  find himself dreaming of his
school days, his mind, for some strange yet obvious reason, going back to a  day
in  his thirteenth  year when,  tired of  turning his  back onVeovis's  constant
taunts, he had turned and fought him.

He woke to find Master Telanis shaking him.

"Come, Aitrus. Third bell has sounded. We need to talk."

                                   *   *   *

The cabin door  was locked. Master  Telanis sat behind  his desk, looking  up at
Aitrus.

"Well, Aitrus, how did you fare  with Master Kedri?" Aitrus hesitated, not  sure
how much to say. The  truth was he did not  like the task he had  been given. It
made him feel uncomfortable.

Telanis coaxed him gently. "You said he felt our methods were inefficient."

"Oh, indeed,  Guild-Master. He  constantly commented  upon how  slow our methods
are. How overcautious.

"And do  you agree  with him,  Aitrus? Do  you think,  perhaps, that  we are too
pedantic in our ways?"

"Not at all, Guild Master. There is,  after all, no hurry. Whether we reach  the
surface this year or next does not matter. Safety must be our first concern.

Telanis stared at him a  moment, then nodded. "Good. Now  let me tell you a  few
things, Aitrus. First, I am aware that this task is not really to your liking."

Aitrus made to object,  but Telanis raised a  hand. "Make no mistake,  Aitrus. 1
realize you are not at  ease looking after Master Kedri,  but I chose you for  a
reason. The good Master  seeks to sound us  out on certain topics-to  survey our
attitudes, if you like."

Aitrus looked horrified at the thought. "Should I watch what I say. Master?"

"Not at all, Aitrus. I have no fear that you will say anything that might  upset
Master  Kedri. That  is why  I chose  you. You  are like  basalt, Aitrus,  solid
through and through. But it would help me if, at the end of each day, you  would
note down those areas in which Master Kedri seemed most interested."

Aitrus hesitated. "Might I ask why. Master?"

"You may. But  you must keep  my answer strictly  to yourself." Telanis  paused,
steepling his fingers before his chin. "There is to be a meeting of the Council,
a month from now. It seems that some  of the older members have had a change  of
heart. They have thought long and hard about whether we should make contact with
the surface dwellers or not, and a  few  of them now feel it might not be  quite
so good an idea as  it first seemed. Indeed, they  might even ask us to  abandon
the expedition."

Unable to  help himself,  Aitrus slammed  his fist  down on  the desk. "But they
can't!"

Master Telanis smited tolerantly. "If that  is their final word, then so  be it.
We must do what they say. We cannot argue with the Council."

Aitrus lowered his head, acknowledging what Master Telanis said. The Council was
the ruling body of D'ni and their  word was law. His own opinion was  irrelevant
-it was what the five  Great Lords and the  eighteen Guild Masters decided  that
was important.

"That is why," Telanis went on, "it is so important that we impress our  guests,
Aitrus, for  they represent  the Eighteen  and the  Five. What  they report back
might yet prove  crucial in swaying  the decision ...  either for us  or against
us."

"I  see." And  suddenly he  did see.  Master Kedri  was not  just any  busybody,
butting his nose into their affairs; Kedri was a potential enemy-or ally-of  the
expedition. All  of their  hard work,  their patient  progress through the rock,
might prove to no avail if Kedri spoke against them.

"I am not sure I can do this, Master."

Telanis nodded. "I understand. Do you want to be relieved of this duty, Aitrus?"

He stared  at Master  Telanis. It  was as  simple as  that, was  it? And then he
understood. It was like going  home. He could go home,  at any time, but it  was
his choice not to go  home that gave this voyage  its meaning. So with this.  He
could quit, but...

Aitrus lowered his head respectfully. "I shall do as you wish, Guild Master."

Telanis smiled  broadly. "Good.  Now go  and eat.  You have  a long day ahead of
you."

                                   *   *   *

Four long, exacting days followed, one upon another. Aitrus was ready to go back
to Master Telanis and beg to be taken  from his task when news came to him  that
they were ready to start drilling the next section.

Master Kedri was  in the refectory  when the news  came, and, delighted  that he
could  at  last  show  the  Legislator  something  real  and  tangible,   Aitrus
interrupted him at table.

"Yes, Guildsman?" Kedri said, staring  at Aitrus. The conversation at  table had
died the moment  Aitrus had stepped  into the cabin.  All four of  the Observers
seated about the narrow table had turned to stare at him.

"Forgive me, Masters," Aitrus said, bowing  to them all, "but I felt  you should
know at once that we are about to commence the next stage of the excavation."

There was at once a babble of  sound from all sides. Some stood immediately  and
began to make their way out. Others began to hurriedly finish their meals.  Only
Kedri seemed unmoved by the news.

"Thank you, Aitrus," he said after a  moment. "I shall finish my meal then  join
you. Wait for me at the site."

Ten minutes later. Master Kedri stepped  out of the excavator and walked  across
to where  they had  set up  the sample  drills. The  other Observers had already
gathered, waiting for operations to commence.

"Let us see if  I understand this correctly,"  Kedri began, before Aitrus  could
say a word. "Master Geran's 'sounding'  is a rough yet fairly accurate  guide to
whether the rock ahead of us is sound or otherwise, correct? The next stage-this
stage- is  to drill  a series  of long  boreholes to  provide us  with a precise
breakdown of the different kinds of rock we are about to cut through."

Airrus nodded, for the first time smiling at the Legislator.

"Oh, I  can retain  some minimal  information, Guildsman,"  Kedri said,  a faint
amusement on his own lips. "It isn't only contracts I can read. But there is one
thing you can tell me, Aitrus, and that's where all the rock goes to."

"The rock?" Aitrus laughed. "But I thought you knew, Master. I thought  everyone
knew! It is reconstituted."

"Reconstituted?"

"In the  fusion-compounder. The  machine reconstitutes  the very  matter of  the
rock, reforging its atomic links and thereby reducing its volume by a factor  of
two hundred. The result is nara."

"So that's  what nara  is!" Kedri  nodded thoughtfully.  "Can I  see this fusion
-compounder?"

Aitrus smiled, suddenly liking the man. "See it. Master? Why, you can operate it
if you want!"

                                   *   *   *

Aitrus took a  sheet of paper  and, for Master  Kedri's benefit, sketched  out a
cross-section diagram of the tunnel.

"This," he said, indicating  the small shaded circle  at the verv center  of it,
"is the hole made  by the excavator. As  you can see it's  a comparatively small
hole, less than  a third the  total circumference of  the tunnel. This,"  and he
pointed to the two closely parallel circles on the outer wall of the tunnel, "is
the area that the Cycler removes."

"The Cycler?" Kedri looked puzzled.

"That's  what we  call it.  It's because  it cuts  a giant  ring from  the  rock
surrounding the central borehole."

"Ah, then that would be the big spiderlike machine, right?"

Aitrus nodded. Only two days before  they had exhaustively inspected all of  the
different excavating tools.

"What happens is that the Cycler removes a circular track around the outer  edge
to a depth of one  and a quarter spans. We  then fill that space with  a special
seal ofD'ni stone, let that set, then  chip out the "collar"- that is, the  rock
between the inner tunnel and the seal."

"Why one and a quarter?"

Aitrus sketched something on the pad, then handed it across. "As you can see, we
insert a special  metal brace a  quarter of a  span wide, deep  in the cut, then
pour in  the sealant  stone. Then,  when the  collar has  been chipped  away, we
remove the brace and set up the Cycler ready to start all over."

Kedri frowned. "Forgive me, Guildsman, but once again it seems a most  laborious
way of going about things."

"Maybe so, Master Kedri, but safe. When w" make a tunnel, we make it to last."

"Yes ..." Kedri nodded thoughtfully. "Still, it seems a lot of effort merely  to
talk to a few surface-dwellers, don't you think?"

It was the  first direct question  of that type  Kedri had asked  him, and for a
moment  Aitrus  wondered if  he  might not  simply  ignore it,  or  treat it  as
rhetorical, but Kedri, it seemed, was waiting for an answer

"Well, Guildsman? Have you no opinion on the matter?"

Master Telanis came to his rescue.

"Forgive me, Master Kedri. Guildsman Aitrus might well have an opinion, but I am
sure he would be the first to admit that at twenty-five he is far too young  and
inexperienced to express it openly. However, if you would welcome the opinion of
someone of greater years?"

Kedri laughed. "Oh,  I know your  opinion. Master Telanis.  I simply thought  it
would be refreshing to seek a different, ywngtr view on things.

"Oh, come now, Kedri, do you really think our Masters on Council would be in the
least interested in what a young guildsman-even one as brilliant as Aitrus  here
-has to say? Why, Lord Tulla is near on eleven times young Aitrus's age! Do  you
think he would be interested."

Kedri bowed his head, conceding the point.

"Then let us  proceed with more  important matters," Telanis  continued quickly,
before  Kedri  might  steer  the  conversation  back  onto  more  tricky ground.
"Normally we would take bore  samples at this stage, but  as you are so keen  to
see us in action, Master  Kedri, I have decided to  waive those for once and  go
direct to drilling."

The news  seemed to  cheer Kedri  immensely. "Excellent!"  he said,  rubbing his
hands together. "Will we need protective clothing of any kind?"

Master Telanis shook his  head. "No. But you  will need to be  inside the second
craft. When we drill, we drill!"

                                   *   *   *

The node-gate  was closed  behind them,  its airtight  seal ensuring  that not a
single particle of rock  would escape back down  the tunnel. The temporary  camp
had been packed up and stored; the sounding capsule attached to the back of  the
second excavator, which now rested against  the back wall of the node,  slightly
to the left of the bore-site.  Two large observation lenses had been  mounted on
the ceiling to either  side of the site,  high up so that  they'd not be hit  by
flying rock.

All was now ready. Master Telanis had only to give the order.

Aitrus was in the second vehicle, standing at the back of the chart room  behind
the Observers, who looked  up at the big  screen, watching as the  excavator was
maneuvered into place.

In operation it seemed more like  something living than a machine, its  sinuous,
quiet movements like those of a giant snake.

Aitrus looked  on with  quiet satisfaction.  He had  first seen  an excavator in
action when he was four-when his father, a guildsman before him-had taken him to
see the cutting of a new tunnel between the outer caverns.

Kedri, in particular, seemed impressed.  He was leaning forward, staring  at the
screen in fascination.

"In place!" Master Telanis called out, his voice transmitted into the chart room
where  they sat.  A moment  later a  siren sounded,  its whine  rising and  then
falling again.

The snout of the excavator came  around and seemed almost to kiss  the bore-mark
on the rock face, so gentle was its touch, but the great drill bit had a  brutal
look to it;  and as they  watched, they saw  the cooling fluid  begin to dribble
down the thick grooves of the drill.

Slowly the drill began  to turn, nudging blindly  into the rock, the  mechanical
whirr of its slow spiral accompanied by a deeper, grinding sound that seemed  to
climb in pitch as the bit whirred faster and faster until it was a squeal, great
clouds of dust billowing out from all around it.

The noise  was now  deafening, the  vibrations making  the second excavator ring
like a struck bell. Slowly the great sphere of the node filled with dust, partly
obscuring their view. Yet  every now and then  they would glimpse the  excavator
again, each time buried  deeper and deeper into  the rock, like some  ferocious,
feral animal boring into the soft flesh of its victim.

From time to time  there would be a  clang or thud as  a large fragment of  rock
struck  their  craft, but  there  was no  danger-the  excavators were  built  to
withstand  massive  pressures. Even  a  major collapse  would  merely ftrap  the
machine, not crush it.

After a while, Kedri  turned and looked to  Aitrus. "It's a fearsome  sight," he
said, raising his voice above the din.

Aitrus nodded. The first time he had seen it he had felt a fear deep in the  pit
of his stomach, yet afterward, talking to his father, he had remembered it  with
wonder and a sense of pride that this was what his guildspeople did.

Perhaps it was even that day when  he had decided to follow his father  into the
Guild of Surveyors.

"Watch the tail," he shouted,  indicating the screen as, briefly,  the excavator
came into view  again. It was  almost wholly in  the rock now,  yet even as they
watched, the tail end of the craft began to lash from side to side-again like  a
living  thing-scoring  the smooth-bored  wall  of the  tunnel  with tooth-shaped
gashes.

"Why does it do that?" Kedri shouted back.

"To give our men a purchase on the wall. Those gashes are where we begin to  dig
out the collar. It makes it much easier for us!"

Kedri nodded. "Clever. You think of everything!"

Yes, Aitrus thought,  but then we  have had a  thousand generations to  think of
everything.

                                   *   *   *

In the sudden silence, the excavator backed out of the hole, its segmented sides
coated  in dust,  its drill  head glowing  red despite  the constant  stream  of
coolant. Inside the node the dust was slowly settling.

"Can we  go outside  and see  for ourselves  now?" One  of the  other Observers,
Ja'ir, a Master in the Guild of Writers asked.

"I am afraid not," Aitrus answered him. "It is much too hot. Besides, you  would
choke on the dust. Even our men  will have to wear breathing suits for  a while.
No, first they will have to spray the node with water to settle the dust.  Then,
once the drill bit has cooled a little, we shall start pumping air back into the
node from outside. Only then will they start the clearing up process."

"And the next  stage of drilling?"  Kedri asked, turning  fully in his  seat and
leaning over the back of the chair to stare at Aitrus.

"That begins almost at once. Master," Aitrus answered. "Look."

Even as  he spoke,  a door  opened in  the side  of the  excavator and two young
guildsmen stepped out, suited-up, air canisters feeding the sealed helmets  they
were wearing. They were both carrying what looked like spears, only these spears
were curved and had sharp, diamond tips at the end.

"They'll set the Cycler up straight away. We should be able to start the  second
stage of drilling as  soon as that's done.  Meanwhile, the rest of  the men will
begin the clearing up operation."

As the two suited guildsmen began to put together the great cutting hoop of  the
Cycler, two  more stepped  out, trailing  flaccid lengths  of hose  behind them.
Getting into position in the center of the platform, one of them turned and gave
a hand signal. Almost at once the  hoses swelled and a jet of water  gushed from
each, arching up into the ceiling of  the great sphere. As the two men  adjusted
the nozzles of their  hoses, the fountain of  water was transformed into  a fine
mist that briefly seemed to fill the node.

It lasted only a minute or two, but when the water supply was cut, the node  was
clear of dust, though a dark paste now covered every surface.

Aitrus smiled. "If you ever wondered what we surveyors do most of the time, it's
this. Cleaning up!"

There was laughter.

"You talk as if you dislike the job, Aitrus," Kedri said with a smile.

"Not at all. It gives me time to think."

Kedri stared  at him  a moment,  a thoughtful  expression in  his eyes,  then he
turned  back,  leaving  Aitrus to  wonder  just  what was  going  on  inside the
Legislator's head.

                                   *   *   *

The four  Observers stepped  out from  the excavator,  their movements  slightly
awkward in  the unfamiliar  protective suits  Master Telanis  had insisted  they
wear. Kedri, as ever, led  the way, Aitrus at his  side as they stepped over  to
the tunnel's , mouth.

The Cycler had  done its job  several times already  and the cadets  had already
chipped out  a section  twenty spans  in length  and sprayed  it with  a coating
ofD'ni stone. Further down the tunnel, they could see the dark 0 of the  central
borehole running straight into the  rock and, surrounding it like  some strange,
skeletal insect, the Cycler, encased in its translucent sheath.

Two brightly glowing fire-marbles the size of clenched fists were suspended from
the ceiling. In their  blazing blue-white light a  number of cadets loaded  rock
onto a mobile trailer.

"This is more like it," Kedri said,  with an air of satisfaction. "This is  just
how I imagined it."

They walked slowly toward the  lamps. Surrounding them, the finished  section of
the tunnel had  the look of  permanence. Moving past  the young guildsmen,  they
approached the rock face, stopping beneath the anchored feet of the Cycler.

They looked up, past the sleek engine of the Cycler to where its great revolving
hoop was at rest against the face. The transparent sheath surrounding the Cycler
was there to catch the excavated rock and channel it down into a chute that  fed
straight into the central borehole. From  there the cadets would collect it  up,
using great suction hoses, and feed it into the pulverizer.

Kedri looked to Aitrus. "You remember your promise, Aitrus?"

"I have not forgotten."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

Aitrus turned and  signaled to his  friend, Efanis, who  was working nearby.  At
once, Efanis came across and, positioning himself at the controls'of the Cycler,
gave two long blasts on the machine's siren.

Kedri made a face. "Yours must be the noisiest of guilds, young Aitrus. It seems
you do nothing without a great blast of air beforehand!"

Aitrus smiled. It was true. If anyone was up there, they would surely hear  them
long before they broke through to the surface.

"If you would  make sure your  masks are kept  down, Masters," he  said, looking
from one to another. "It should be  perfectly safe, but if the sheath was  to be
punctured your headgear should protect you."

"Cautious," Kedri muttered. "Ever cautious!"

Slowly the great cutting-hoop of the Cycler began to spin, slowly at first, then
faster, at  first only  skimming tR'e  surface of  the rock,  whistling all  the
while. Then, abruptly, the whole top of the Cycler seemed to lean into the  rock
face, a great  grinding buzz going  up as if  a thousand swarms  of bees had all
been released at once.

Chips of  rock flew  like hailstones  against the  clear, thick  surface of  the
sheath. Slowly the arm of the Cycler raised on its hydraulics, moving toward the
horizontal as the  spinning cutting hoop  bit deeper and  deeper into the  rock,
carving its great 0, like the outer rim of an archery target.

In less than three minutes it was done. Slowly the machine eased back, the  hoop
slipping from the rock, its surface steaming hot. As the Observers turned,  four
of the young Surveyors wheeled the great metal hoop of the brace down the tunnel
toward them. They had seen already how it was mounted on the cutting hoop,  then
pushed into place.

So easy it seemed, yet every stage was fraught with dangers and difficulties.

As the guildsmen took over, removing the covering sheath and fitting the  brace,
Kedri and his fellows stood back out of their way. Only when they were  finished
and the brace was in  place did Aitrus take them  through, past the base of  the
Cycler and into the central borehole. It was darker here, but the piles of  rock
stood out against the light from outside.

Aitrus  pointed  to  two  machines  that  stood  to  one  side.  The  first  was
recognizably the machine  they used to  gather up all  the fragments of  rock, a
great suction hose coiling  out from the squat,  metallic sphere at its  center.
The second was small and squat, with what looked like a deep, wedge-shaped metal
tray on top.

Ignoring the  rock-gatherer, Aitrus  stooped and,  picking up  one of the larger
chunks of rock, handed it to Kedri. "Well, Guild Master? Do you want to feed the
compounder?"

Kedri grinned  and, taking  the rock  over to  the machine,  dropped it into the
tray.

"What now?" he asked, looking to Aitrus.

In answer, Aitrus stepped up  and pressed a button on  the | face of the  fusion
-compounder. At once  a metal lid  slid across over  the tray. There  was a low,
grinding sound, and then the lid slid back. The tray was now empty.

"And the nara?"

Aitrus crouched and indicated a bulky red cylinder that rested in a mesh cage on
the underside of the machine.

"The nara is kept in there," Aitrus said, "in its basic, highly compacted  form,
until we need to use it."

"But surely it would just... solidify!"

Aitrus nodded. "It does. The cylinder  is just temporary; a kind of  jacket used
to mold the nara into a storable form. When we have enough of the nara, we  load
up another machine with  the cylinders. In effect,  that machine is little  more
than a large pressure-oven, operating at immensely high pressures, within  which
the cylinders are burned away and the nara brought back to a more volatile,  and
thus usable, state."

"The sprayer, you mean?" Kedri said, staring at Aitrus in open astonishment.

Aitrus nodded.

Kedri crouched,  staring at  the bright  red cylinder  in awe,  conscious of the
immense power of these simple-seeming  machines, then, like a schoolboy  who has
been briefly  let off  the leash,  he straightened  up and,  looking about  him,
began-to gather up rocks to feed into the machine.

                                   *   *   *

That night Master Telanis took Aitrus aside once more.

"I hear our friends enjoyed themselves today.  That was a good idea of yours  to
let them operate a  few of the less  dangerous machines. They're bookish  types,
and such types  are impressed by  gadgetry. And who  knows, even something  this
small may serve to sway them for the good."

"Then you think it is good?"

"Making contact with the surface-dwellers?"  Telanis smiled. "Yes. Just so  long
as it is done discreetly."

Aitrus frowned. "How do you mean?"

"I mean, I do not think we should mix our race with theirs. Nor should we  think
of any  extended relationship  with them.  They are  likely, after  all, to be a
primitive race, and primitive  races-as we have learned  to our cost-tend to  be
warlike in nature. It  would not do to  have them pouring down  our tunnels into
D'ni."

"But what kind of relationship does that leave us?"

Telanis shrugged, then. "We could go among them as Observers. That is, providing
we are not too dissimilar from them as a species."

"But why? What would we learn from doing that?"

"They might have  certain cultural traits-artifacts  and the like-that  we might
use. Or they might even have developed certain instruments or machines,  though,
personally, I find that most unlikely."

"It  seems,  then, that  Master  Kedri is  right  after all,  and  that ours  is
something of a fool's errand."

Master Telanis sat forward, suddenly alert. "Are those his words?"

"Something like. It was  something he was saying  to one of the  other Observers
-Ja'ir, I think-as they were coming away from the rock face. Ja'ir was wondering
aloud whether there was anyone up there on the surface anyway."

"And?"

Aitrus  paused, trying  to recall  the conversation.  "Master Kedri  was of  the
opinion that there would be. His view was that the climatic conditions are ideal
for the development of an indigenous species."

"And on what did he base this claim?"

"It seems that all four of them have seen copies of the Book."

"The Book  of Earth,"  Telanis said,  nodding thoughtfully.  "It was  written by
Grand  Master Ri'Neref  himself, Aitrus,  perhaps the  greatest of  the  ancient
Writers. Yet it is said that it was one he wrote as an. apprentice."

"So Master  Kedri also  claimed. Yet  most troubling,  perhaps, was  what Master
Ja'ir said next."

Telanis's eyes seemed to pierce Aitrus. "Go on."

"Ja'ir said that whether  there was a humanoid  race up there on  the surface or
not, he nevertheless wondered whether so much time and effort ought to have been
spent on such a speculative venture."

"Speculative ... he said speculative, did he?"

Aitrus nodded.

Master Telanis sat back and stared  thoughtfully. For a while he did  not speak,
then, looking at Aitrus, he asked, "And what do_yot< think, Aitrus? Is it  worth
it?"

"Yes, Guild Master. To know for certain that we are sharing a world with another
intelligent species-that surely is worth twice the time and effort that we  have
given it!"

                                   *   *   *

While the excavation was in process,  the young guildsmen had been permitted  to
return to their quarters on the  ships, while the Observers had been  moved into
the Guild Master's cabin in the second excavator.

Aitrus returned to his bunk. Briefly he smiled, thinking ofKedri's comment,  but
the smile quickly faded. The  endless secondary process of clearing  up normally
gave him time to  think of his experiments,  something he had little  time to do
these past few days. Indeed, it made  him wonder how others could stand to  live
as Kedri so clearly lived, constantly in someone else's pocket.

Personally, he needed space, and quiet. Yes, and an adequate supply of chemicals
and notebooks! he thought, recollecting how  his mother used to tease him  about
his obsession with rocks and geological processes.

Unnatural, she had said, but the  old cook, Master Jerahl, was right,  there was
nothing more natural for a D'ni. Stone was their element.

As he sat on  the edge of his  bunk, he could hear  the whine of drills  and the
sudden crunch as rock fell to the floor. Let others think birdsong and the sound
of a river flowing were natural; for him, this was the most natural of sounds.

"Young worm,"  his father  had called  him as  a child,  as if  anticipating his
future calling,  and so  he had  become. A  burrower. A  seeker of  passages. An
explorer of the dark.

Aitrus stood,  meaning to  undress for  sleep, when  there came  the sound  of a
commotion outside. He hurried along the corridor and poked his head out, looking
about* him. It was coming from inside the tunnel. The sound of a human in pain.

He heard a scuffling  behind him. A moment  later. Master Telanis joined  him in
the doorway.

"What is it, Aitrus?"

"Someone's hurt."

The two men ran  across. At the tunnel's  mouth, one of the  young engineers met
them, his face distraught.

"Who is it, Ta'nerin?" Telanis asked, holding his arms.

"It's Efanis. The cutting tip shattered. He's badly hurt. We've tried to staunch
the blood but we can't stop it!"

"Fetch Master Avonis at once. I'll see what I can do!"

Letting Ta'nerin  go, Master  Telanis ran,  Aitrus close  behind. The tunnel was
almost finished now.  Only the last  5 spans remained  uncut. There, at  the far
end, beneath  the burning  arc lamps,  they could  see a  small group  of cadets
gathered-some kneeling, some standing-around one of their colleagues.

The moaning grew-an awful, piteous sound.

As the two men came  up, they saw just how  badly Efanis was injured. The  wound
was awful. The  shattered tip must  have flown back  and hit Efanis  full in the
chest and upper arm. He had not stood a chance. Even as they stood there he gave
a great groan. Blood was on his lips.

Pushing between the guildsmen,  Master Telanis tore off  his shirt and poked  it
into the wound. Then, looking about him, he spoke urgently, trying to rouse them
from their  shock. "Help  me, then,  lads! Quick  now!" And,  reaching down,  he
gently cradled Efanis's  head even as  the others crowded  around, putting their
ha^nds under Efanis's shoulders and back and thighs.

"That's good," Telanis said softly,  encouraging them as they gently  lifted the
groaning Efanis. "Now  let's get him  back to the  excavator. The sooner  Master
Avonis gets to look at him, the better."

                                   *   *   *

There had  been accidents  before, but  never anything  more severe  than broken
bones, or  bruising, or  rock splinters.  Master Telanis  prided himself  on his
safety record. Efanis's accident had thus come as a great shock.

When Aitrus reported to  Kedri the next morning,  it was to find  the Legislator
crouched over a desk in the chart room, writing. He looked up as Aitrus  entered
and put down his pen.

"I'm sorry, Aitrus. I  understand that Efanis was  your friend. A bad  business,
eh?"

Aitrus nodded, but he felt unable to speak. Efanis was not yet out of trouble.

"I'll  not  be  needing  you  today,  Aitrus,  so  take  the  day  off.  Do your
experiments, if you wish. We'll carry on tomorrow."

"Yes, Master."

Leaving Kedri to his work, Aitrus went straight to Master Telanis. He found  him
in the tunnel, crouching beside the temporarily abandoned excavation, staring at
a dark patch  in the rock.  At the center  of that small,  irregular ovoid was a
tiny, slightly flattened circle of what looked like glass.

It had the look of a bruised eye staring from the rock.

"What is that?" Aitrus asked.

Telanis looked up at  him. "It appears to  be a pyroclastic deposit-a  'volcanic
bomb' deposited in  this strata hundreds  of millions of  years ago." The  Guild
Master pointed to the outer, darker area. "The outside of it is simple  obsidian
-a glassy basalt-but  this pellucid nugget  here was already  embedded within it
when the volcano spat it out. It looks and feels like diamond."

Aitrus nodded.

"My guess," Telanis continued,  "is that the cutting  tip slipped on the  glassy
surface, then snagged on this much harder patch here and shattered."

He sighed heavily. "I should have taken core samples, Aitrus. I was in too  much
of a hurry to impress our guests. And now this has come of it."

"You cannot blame yourself. Guild Master," Aitrus said. "The bit must have  been
flawed, anyway. One cannot foresee everything."

"No?" Telanis stood. He looked about  him at the abandoned tools, his  eyes, for
the first time that  Aitrus could recall, troubled  by what he saw.  "If not me,
then  who,  Aitrus?  It  is  my  job  to  ensure  the  safety  of  my  crews, my
responsibility, no one else's. That Efanis is hurt is my fault. If I had done my
job properly ..."

Aitrus put out his hand to touch his Master's arm, then withdrew it. In a  sense
Telanis was right. All of their  patient checks and procedures were designed  to
avoid an event like this.

He cleared  his throat.  "Master Kedri  says he  does not  need me  today. Guild
Master. I came to be reassigned."

Telanis glanced  at him,  then made  a vague  gesture with  his hand.  "Not now,
Aitrus. We'll do no work today."

"But, Master..."

"Not now."

                                   *   *   *

Aitrus packed  a knapsack  for the  journey and  set off,  walking back down the
nodes to where-almost two months before-  they had drilled through a small  cave
system.

Though they had labored long and hard in the rock, it took but an hour or so  to
reach his destination.  For the first  part the way  was fairly straightforward,
zigzagging back and forth  in the normal D'ni  way, but then it  branched to the
left, where they had been forced to detour around an area of folds and faults.

His way was dimly  lit. Chemicals in the  green-black coating ot D'ni  rock gave
off a  faint luminescence  bright enough  to see  in. But  Aitrus had packed two
lamps and a small canister of luminescent algae for when he left the D'ni path.

Coming to his destination, he rested  briefly, seated on the rock ledge  outside
the circular door that led through into the cave system, and ate a brief meal.

The sphere  of this  node had  been peppered  with openings-some  tiny apertures
barely large enough to poke one's  hand into, others big enough to  walk inside.
One-the one  he now  sat outside-had  been large  enough to  drive the excavator
inside.  Indeed,  with  Master  Telanis's permission,  they  had  shored  up the
entrance and bored almost fifty spans into the rock, widening the passageway  to
give access to a large cavern that  lay just beyond. But time had been  pressing
and they had not had  more than a day or  two to explore the system  before they
had had to press  on with their excavations.  They had sealed the  tunnel with a
small gate-similar to those that linked the nodes to the lengths of D'ni  tunnel
-leaving the caverns for future investigation, then they had sprayed the rest of
the node with a smooth coating of nara.

Aitrus had made extensive notes of the  cave system at the time. Now he  had the
chance to go back and resume his explorations. The thought of it cheered him as,
finishing his meal, he stood and, taking the protective helmet from his pack, he
strapped it  on and,  slipping the  sack onto  his shoulder,  walked over to the
lock.

It was a simple pressure lock. Turning the wheel, he could hear the air hiss out
from the vent overhead. A moment later a crack appeared down the very center  of
the door and the two halves of it slid back into the surrounding collar.

Inside was darkness.

In a  small cloth  bag he  carried in  his pocket  he had  a collection  of fire
-marbles. Taking one from the bag, he opened the back of the lamp mounted on his
helmet and  popped it  into the  tiny space.  Clicking it  shut, he waited for a
moment until the fire-marble  began to glow. After  less than a minute  a clear,
strong white radiance shone out from  the lamp into the darkness, revealing  the
smooth, uncoated walls of rock within.

Aitrus smiled, then stepped inside.

                                   *   *   *

Aitrus paused to spray a tiny arrow  on the rock wall, pointing back the  way he
had come, then  slipped the canister  away and walked  slowly on, counting  each
step, all the time  turning his head from  side to side, scanning  the walls and
floor ahead of him.

After a moment he stopped again  and took his notebook from his  pocket, quickly
marking down how many paces he had come before checking his compass again to see
if the tunnel had diverged from its slow descent.

It was a narrow passageway, one they had not explored the first time he had been
here. Overhead it tapered to a crack  that seemed to go some way into  the rock,
but it  was barely  wide enough  to walk  down, and  it was slowly narrowing. Up
ahead, however, it seemed to emerge into a larger space-a small cavern,  perhaps
-and so he persevered, hoping he might squeeze through and investigate.

The rock was silent. There were  no waterflows here, no steady drip  from unseen
heights, only the absence of sound. He  was the intruder here, the noise of  his
own breathing loud in  his ears. It was  warm in the rock  and he felt no  fear.
Since he'd been a child and his father had first taken him deep inside the rock,
he  had  felt  no fear.  What  he  felt,, if  anything,  was  a tiny  thrill  of
anticipation.

There was hidden beauty in the  rock. Locked deep within the earth  were caverns
of such  delicate, shimmering  beauty that,  to step  out into  them, was  a joy
beyond all measuring.

Taking his sack from his shoulders, he  dropped it softly onto the floor of  the
passage, then turned and began to  squeeze into the narrow space. Breathing  in,
he found he could just slip through.

He turned, then  grabbed hold of  the rock beside  him. Just below  him the rock
fell away into a narrow  chasm. To his left it  climbed to meet a solid  wall of
rock. But to his right...

Aitrus grinned. To his right, just beyond the gap, the cavern opened out. Points
of shimmering crystal seemed to wink back at him as he turned his head. The roof
of  the  cavern was  low,  but the  cave  itself went  back  some way,  a  huge,
pillarlike outcrop of rock concealing what lay at the far end.

Aitrus turned and, squeezing back through,  retrieved his sack. By the timer  on
his wrist he had been gone from the base-node almost three hours, but there  was
still plenty of time. Securing the strap  of the sack about his wrist, he  edged
through the gap again, standing on the lip of the entrance hole.

The gap seemed  deep, but he  could jump it  at a stride.  The trouble would  be
getting back, as the floor  of the cave was much  lower than where he stood.  It
would not be so easy leaping up onto this ledge.

Taking a length of rope from his sack, Aitrus hammered a metal pin into the rock
beside him and  tied one end  of the rope  fast about it.  He uncoiled the rope,
letting two or three spans of it hang down, then jumped down.

For a moment he looked about him, his eyes searching for a chunk of loose  stone
to lay upon the end of the rope to keep it in place, but there was nothing.  The
rock was strangely fused here and glassy. Aitrus coiled the end of the rope  and
rested it  on the  rock, trusting  that it  would not  slip into  the gap. Then,
straightening up, he turned to face the cavern.

For a moment  Aitrus held himself  perfectly still, the  beam of light  from his
lamp focused on the pillar at the  far end of the cavern, then he  crouched and,
again taking his notebook from his pocket,  rested it on his knee, and began  to
sketch what he saw.

Finished, he  began to  walk across.  The floor  was strangely  smooth and for a
moment Aitrus wondered if he were in a volcanic chamber of some kind. Then, with
a laugh, he stopped and crouched.

"Agates!" he said softly, his voice  a whisper in that silent space.  "Agates in
the rock'"

Taking a  hammer and  chisel from  his tool  belt, Aitrus  chipped at the smooth
surface of the rock just to his  left, then, slipping the tools back into  their
leather holsters, he reached down and gently plucked his find from the rock.

The agate was a tiny piece of chalcedony no bigger than a pigeon's egg. He  held
it up and studied it, then, reaching behind him, popped it into the sack on  his
back. There were others  here, and he quickly  chipped them from the  rock. Some
were turquoise, others a  deep summer blue. One,  however, was almost purple  in
color and he guessed that it was possibly an amethyst.

Aitrus smiled broadly, then stood  once more. Such agates were  hypabyssal-small
intrusive bodies from deep in the earth's crust that had been thrust up with the
lava flow to  cool at these  shallow depths. In  a sense they  were no more than
bubbles in the lava flow; bubbles that had been filled with heated  groundwater.
Long eons had passed and this was  the form they had taken. Polished they  would
look magnificent.

Aitrus began to walk toward the distant pillar of rock, but he had taken no more
than two paces when the floor beneath him began to tremble. At first he  thought
they had perhaps begun drilling again,  for the source of the vibrations  seemed
quite distant, but then he^recalled what Master Telanis had said.

We'll do no work today ...

As if to emphasize the point, the ground shuddered. There was a deep rumbling in
the rock. He could hear rock falling in the passage behind him.

Aitrus walked across. If the passage collapsed, he would be trapped here, and it
might be days before anyone  knew where he was. He  had told no one that  he was
off exploring.

The rope, at least, was still where  he had left it. He swung across  and pulled
himself up onto the ledge.

There was  the faintest  trembling in  the rock.  A trickle  of dust fell from a
crack above him.  He looked up.  If there was  to be a  proper quake, that  rock
would come down.

Calming himself, Aitrus squeezed  through the gap and  began to walk back  along
the narrow rock  passage. He was  halfway along when  the rock shook  violently.
There was a crashing up  ahead of him, dust was  in his mouth suddenly, but  the
passage remained unblocked.

He kept walking, picking up his pace.

The luminous  arrows he  had left  to mark  his way  shone out,  showing him the
direction back to the node. Coming to one of the smaller caverns near the  node,
he found his way blocked  for the first time. A  fall of rock filled the  end of
the cavern,  but he  remembered that  there was  another way  around, through  a
narrow borehole. Aicrus went back down  the tunnel he'd been following until  he
found it, then crawled through on his  hands and knees, his head down, the  sack
pushed before him. There was a slight drop on the other side. Aitrus wormed  his
way around and  dangled his feet  over the edge.  He was about  to drop, when he
turned and looked. The slight drop had become a fall of three spans-almost forty
feet. Hanging on tightly, he turned his head, trying to see if there was another
way out. There wasn't.  He would have to  climb down the face,  using metal pins
for footholds.

It took him a long time, but eventually he was down. Now he only had to get back
up again. He could see where the  tunnel began again, but it was quite  a climb,
the last two spans of it vertical. There was nothing he could do; he would  have
to dig handholds in the rock face with a hammer.

The ascent was slow. Twice the ground  shook and almost threw him down into  the
pit out of which he was climbing, but he clung on until things were quiet again.
Eventually he clambered up into the tunnel.

If he was right, he was at most fifty spans from the gate.

Half running,  he hurried  down the  tunnel. Here  was the  tiny cavern they had
called The Pantry, here the one they'd called The Steps. With a feeling of great
relief, he ducked under the great slab of stone that marked the beginning of the
cave system and out into the D'ni borehole.

Glancing along  the tunnel,  Aitrus could  see at  once that  it had  been badly
damaged. The  sides had  been smooth  and perfectly  symmetrical. Now there were
dark cracks all along  it, and huge chunks  of rock had fallen  from the ceiling
and now rested on the tunnel's floor.

Ignoring the feeling in the pit of his stomach Aitrus walked slowly on. He could
see that the gate was closed. It  would have closed as soon as the  first tremor
registered in its sensors. All the gates along the line, in every node, would be
closed. If he  could not open  it he would  be trapped, as  helpless as if  he'd
stayed in the cavern where he'd found the agates.

There was a rarely used wheel in  the center of the gate, an emergency  pressure
-release.

Bracing himself  against the  huge metal  door, Aitrus  heaved the wheel around,
praying that another tremor wouldn't come.

At first nothing, then, the sound making him gasp with relief, there was a  hiss
of air and the door opened, its two halves sliding back into the collar of rock.

Aitrus jumped through, knowing that at  any moment another quake might come  and
force the doors to slam shut again.

After the tunnel, the node was brightness itself. Aitrus blinked painfully, then
turned to look back into  the borehole. As he did,  the whole of the ceiling  at
the end came crashing down. Dust  billowed toward him. At the sudden  noise, the
sensors in the gate were activated and the doors slammed shut, blocking out both
noise and dust.

Aitrus whistled to  himself, then turned,  looking about him.  The walls of  the
great sphere in  which he stood  were untouched-it would  take a major  quake to
affect the support walls-but both node-gates were shut.

He would have to wait until the tremors subsided.

Aitrus sat and took  his notebook from his  pocket, beginning to write  down all
that had happened.

It was important to  make observations and write  down everything, just in  case
there was something important among it all.

Small tremors were quite common; they happened every month or so, but these were
strong. Much stronger in fact, than anything he had ever encountered.

He remembered the agates and got them out. For a while he studied them, lost  in
admiration. Then, with a cold and sudden clarity, he realized they were clues.

This whole  region was  volcanic. Its  history was  volcanic. These  agates were
evidence of countless millennia of volcanic activity. And it was still going on.
They  had  been boring  their  tunnels directly  through  the heart  of  a great
volcanic fault.

Stowing the agates back  in the sack, Aitrus  wrote his observations down,  then
closed the notebook and looked up.

It was at least an hour since the last tremor.

As if acknowledging the fact, the node-gates hissed and then slid open.

Aitrus stood, then  picked up his  sack and slung  it over his  shoulder. It was
time to get back.

                                   *   *   *

As Aitrus stepped out from beneath the node-gate, he frowned. The base camp  was
strangely silent.

The two excavators remained where he had last seen them but there was no sign of
the frenetic activity he  had expected after the  quakes. It was as  if the site
had been abandoned.

He walked across,  a strange feeling  in the pit  of his stomach,  then stopped,
hearing noises from  the tunnel; the  faintest murmur of  voices, like a  ritual
chant.

Coming to the tunnel's entrance, he  saw them: the whole company of  both ships.
Kned up  in ranks,  together with  the four  Observers, who  stood off in a tiny
group to one  side. The assembly  stood at the  far end, where  the accident had
happened, their heads bowed.

At once Aitrus knew. This was a ceremony to mark Efanis's passage. He could hear
the words drift back to him, in Master Telanis's clear and solemn tones.

"In rock he lived, in rock he rests."

And as the words faded, so Master Telanis lay the dead guildsman's hand upon the
open linking book, moving back as the body shimmered in the air and vanished. It
was now in the great burial Age of 7 e'Negamiris.

Aitrus bowed his head, standing where he was in the tunnel's mouth, mouthing the
words of the response, along with the rest of the company.

"May Yavo, the Maker receive his soul."

Everyone  was  silent  again,  marking  Efanis's  passage  with  respect,   then
individual heads began to come up. Master Telanis looked across; seeing  Aitrus,
he came across and, placing a hand on Aitrus's arm, spoke to him softly.

"I'm  sorry,  Aitrus. It  happened  very quickly.  An  adverse reaction  to  the
medication. He was very weak."

Aitrus nodded, but the fact had not really sunk in. For a time, in the  tunnels,
he had totally forgotten about his friend.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Aitrus answered. "I went back  to the cave system. There's a lot  of
damage there. The quakes ..."

Telanis  nodded. "Master  Geran seems  to chink  it is  only a  settling of  the
surrounding rock, but we  need to make more  soundings before we proceed.  There
may be some delays."

"Guild Master Kedri will not be pleased."

"No, nor his fellows. But it cannot be helped. We must be certain it is  nothing
critical." Master Telanis  paused, then. "It  might mean that  Master Kedri will
require your services for slightly  longer than anticipated, Aitrus. Would  that
worry you?"

Master Telanis had said  nothing about Aitrus not  letting anyone know where  he
had gone.  That, Aitrus  knew, was  his way.  But Aitrus  felt guilty  about the
breach, and it was, perhaps, that guilt that made him bow his head and answer.

"No, Guild Master."

                                   *   *   *

As Master Kedri climbed up into the Messenger, he turned, looked back at Aitrus,
and smiled.

"Thank you, Aitrus. I shall not forget your kindness."

Aitrus returned the smile.

"And I shall not forget to deliver your letter," Kedri added, patting the pocket
of his tunic, where the letter lay.

"Thank you, Guild Master."

Kedri ducked inside. A moment later the door hissed shut and the turbines of the
craft came to life.

Aitrus  stepped back,  rejoining the  others who  had gathered  to see  off  the
Observers.

"You did  well, Aitrus,"  Master Telanis  said quietly,  coming alongside as the
Messenger turned and slowly edged into the tunnel, heading back to D'ni.

"Yet I fear it was naf enough," Aitrus answered.

Telanis nodded, a small movement in  his face indicating that he, too,  expected
little good to come of the Observers' report.

Unexpectedly, Master Kedri and his fellows had chosen not to wait for  tunneling
to recommence,  deciding, instead,  to return  at once.  All there  read it as a
clear sign that the four men had made up their minds about the expedition.

Efanis's  death, the  quakes-these factors  had clearly  influenced that  choice
- had, perhaps, pushed them to a decision.

Even so, the waiting would be hard.

"What shall we  do, Guild Master?"  Aitrus asked, seeing  how despondent Telanis
looked.

Telanis glanced at  him, then shrugged.  "I suppose we  shall keep on  burrowing
through the rock, until they tell us otherwise."

                                   *   *   *

Progress was  slow. Master  Geran took  many soundings  over the  following five
days,  making a  great chart  of all  the surrounding  rock, then  checking  his
findings by making test borings deep into the strata.

It was  ten full  days before  Master Telanis  gave the  order to finish off the
tunnel and excavate the  new node. Knowing how  close the Council's meeting  now
was, everyone in the expedition feared the worst.

Any day now they might be  summoned home, the tunnels filled, all  their efforts
brought to nothing, but still they worked on, a stubborn pride in what they  did
making them work harder and longer.

The advance team  finished excavating and  coating the sphere  in a single  day,
while the second team  laid the air brackets.  That evening they dismantled  the
platforms and moved the base camp on.

Efanis's death had  been a shock,  but none there  had known quite  how it would
affect them.  Now they  knew. As  Aitrus's team  sat there  that evening  in the
refectory, there was a  strange yet intimate silence.  No one had to  speak, yet
all there knew what the others were feeling and thinking. Finally, the old cook,
Jerahl, said it for them.

"It seems  unfair that  we should  come to  understand just  how important  this
expedition is, only for it to be taken frorr us."

There was a strong murmur of agreement. Since Efanis') death, what had been  for
most an  adventure had  taken on  thf aspect  of a  crusade. They  wanted now to
finish this tunnel,  tc complete the  task they had  been given by  the Council.
Whethel there was anyone up there on  the surface or not did not mattel  now; it
was the forging of the tunnel through the earth th"l was the important thing.

Aitrus, never normally  one to speak  in company, broke  habit now and  answered
Jerahl.

"It would indeed seem ill if Efanis were to die for nothing."

Again, there was a murmur of-assent from those seated about Aitrus. But that had
hardly died when Master Telanis, who now stood in the doorway, spoke up.

"Then it is fortunate that the Council see fit to agree with you, Aitrus."

There  was a  moment's shocked  silence, then  a great  cheer went  up.  Telanis
grinned and nodded at Aitrus.  In one hand he held  a letter, the seal of  which
was broken.

"A special courier arrived a moment ago. It appears we have been given a  year's
extension!"

There was more cheering. Everyone was grinning broadly now.

"But of much greater significance," Telanis continued as the noise subsided, "is
the fact that we have been given permission to build a great shaft."

"A shaft, Master?"

Telanis  nodded, a  look of  immense satisfaction  on his  face. "It  seems  the
Council are as impatient as we to see what is on the surface. There is to be  no
more burrowing sideways through the rock. We are to build a great shaft straight
up to the surface. We are to begin the new soundings in the morning!"

                                   *   *   *

The moon was  a pale circle  in the star-spattered  darkness of the  desert sky.
Beneath it,  in a  hollow between  two long  ridges of  rock, two  travelers had
stopped and camped for the night, their camels tethered close by.

It was cool after the day's excessive heat, and the two men sat side by side  on
a narrow ridge of rock, thick sheepskins draped over their shoulders; sheepskins
that had been  taken from the  great leather saddles  that rested on  the ground
just behind them.

They were traders, out of Tadjinar, heading south for the markets of Jemaranir.

It had been silent;  such a perfect silence  as only the desert  knows. But now,
into that silence, came the faintest sound,  so faint at first that each of  the
travelers  kept  quiet,  thinking  they had  imagined  it.  But  then the  sound
increased, became a presence in the surrounding air.

The ground was gently vibrating.

The two men  stood, looking about  them in astonishment.  The noise intensified,
became a kind of hum. Suddenly there was a clear, pure note in the air, like the
noise of a great trumpet sounding in the depths below.

Hurrying over  to the  edge of  the rocky  outcrop, they  stared in  wonder. Out
there, not a  hundred feet from  where they stood,  the sand was  in movement, a
great circle of  it trembling violently  as if it  were being shaken  in a giant
sieve. Slowly a great hoop of sand and rock lifted, as if it were being drawn up
into the sky. At the same  time, the strange, unearthly note rose  in intensity,
filling the desert air, then ceased abruptly.

At once the sand dropped, forming a massive circle where it fell.

The two men stared a moment longer,  then, as one, dropped onto their hands  and
knees, their heads touching the rock.

"Allah preserve us!" they wailed. "Allah keep us and comfort us!" From the  camp
behind them, the sound of the camels' fearful braying filled the desert night.

                                   *   *   *

Master Geran sat back and smiled, his blind eyes laughing.

"Perfect," he said,  looking to where  Master Telanis stood.  "I intensified the
soundings. Gave the thing a real blast  this time! And it worked! We have  clear
rock all the way to the surface!"

Telanis, who had been waiting tensely for Geran's analysis of the sounding,  let
out a great sigh of relief.

"Are you saying this is it, Master Geran?"

Geran nodded. "We shall need to cut test holes, naturally. But I would say  that
this was the perfect site for the shaft."

"Excellent!" Telanis grinned.  For three months  they had pressed  on, burrowing
patiently through the rock, looking for such a site. Now they had it.

"I should warn you,"  Geran said, his natural  caution resurfacing. "There is  a
large cave  off to  one side  of the  proposed excavation.  But that  should not
affect us. It is some way off. Besides, we shall be making our shaft next to it,
not under it."

"Good," Telanis  said. "Then  I shall  inform the  Council at  once. We  can get
started, excavating the footings. That should take us a month, at least."

"Oh, at least!" Geran agreed, and the two old friends laughed.

"At last," Telanis  said, placing a  hand on Geran's  shoulder and squeezing  it
gently. "I was beginning to think I would never see the day."

"Nor I," Geran agreed, his blind eyes staring up into Telanis's face. "Nor I."

                                   *   *   *

The preparations were  extensive. First they  had to excavate  a massive chamber
beneath where the  shaft was to  be. It was  a job the  two excavators were  not
really suited  to, and  though they  began the  work by  making two long curving
tunnels on the perimeter, heavier cutting equipment was swiftly brought up  from
D'ni to carry out this task.

While this  was being  organized. Master  Geran, working  with a  team of senior
members of the Guild of Cartographers, designed the main shaft. This was not  as
simple a job as it might have appeared, for the great shaft was to be the hub of
a network of much smaller tunnels that  would branch out from it. Most of  these
were  service tunnels,  leading back  to D'ni,  but some  extended the  original
excavation to the north.

As  things  developed,  Master  Telanis  found  himself  no  longer  leading the
expedition but only one of six  Guild Masters working under Grand Master  Iradun
himself, head of the  Guild of Surveyors. Other  guilds, too, were now  steadily
more involved in the work.

Aitrus, looking  on, found  himself excited  by all  this frenetic  activity. It
seemed as though they were suddenly  at the heart of everything, the  very focus
of D'ni's vast enterprise.

By the end of the  third week the bulk of  the great chamber had been  part-cut,
part-melted from the rock, a big  stone burnera machine of which all  had heard
but few had  ever seen in  actionmaking the rock  drip from the  walls like ice
before a blowtorch.

The  chamber  needed'supporting,  of  course.  Twenty  massive  granite  pillars
supported the ceiling, but for the walls the usual method of spray-coating would
not do. Huge slabs of nara the hardest of D'ni stonesa metallic  greenish-black
stone thirty times the density of steelwere brought up the line. Huge  machines
lifted the  precast sections  into place  while others  hammered in the securing
rivets.

A single one of those rivets was bigger than a man, and more than eight thousand
were used in lining the mighty walls of the chamber, but eventually it was done.

That evening,  walking between  the pillars  in that  vast chamber,  beneath the
stark,  temporary lighting,  Aitrus felt  once again  an immense  pride in   his
people.

Work was going on day and  night nowthough such terms, admittedly, had  meaning
only in terms of their waking or sleeping shiftsand a large number  ofguildsmen
had been shipped in  from D'ni for the  task. The first of  the support tunnels,
allowing them to bring in extra supplies from D'ni, had been cut, and more  were
being excavated. The noise of excavation in the rock was constant.

To a young guildsman it was all  quite fascinating. What had for so long  been a
simple exploratory excavation had now become a problem in logistics. A temporary
camp had been set up at the western end of the chamber and it grew daily.  There
were not only guildsmen from the Guild of Surveyors here now but also from  many
other  guildsfrom  the  Guild  of Miners,  the  Messengers,  the  Caterers, the
Healers, the Mechanists,  the Analysts, the  Maintainers, and the  Stone-Masons.
There were even four members of the Guild of Artists, there to make  preliminary
sketches for a great painting of the works.

Food, of course,  could have been  a problem with  so many suddenly  congregated
there in the chamber, but the Guild  of Caterers brought up two of their  Books,
linked to the great  granary worlds of Er'Duna  and Er'Jerah, and the  many were
fed.

Not  everything,  however,  was  quite  so  simple.  With  the  chamber  cut and
supported, they had begun to bring in the big cutting machines.

For five full days the tunnels were  closed to any other traffic as these  huge,
ancient mechanisms were brought up one by one from D'ni. Dismantled in the lower
caverns ready  for the  journey, they  were transported  on massive half-tracked
wagons and reassembled in the base  chamber, beneath the eyes of the  astonished
young guildsmen.

There were four of  these machines in all,  and with their arrival,  there was a
sense that history  was being made.  Only rarely was  more than a  single one of
these monolithic cutters brought into use; to have all four at a single site was
almost unprecedented. Not  since the breakthrough  to the lower  caverns and the
opening of  the Tijali  Mines, eighteen  centuries before,  had they  been found
together.

The machines themselves were, in three of the four cases, much older than  that.
Old Stone Teeth, as  it was known, was  close on four thousand  years old, while
Rock-Biter and  The Burrower  were contemporaries  at three  thousand years-both
having  been built  for the  broadening of  the Rudenna  Passage. The  youngest,
however, was also the biggest, and had been fashioned especially for the opening
of the new mines. This  was Grinder, and it was  to Grinder that Aitrus and  the
rest of the young explorers were assigned.

Grinder arrived yi^ stages. First to arrive was the Operations Cabin-the "brain"
of the beast-itself four times the size  of one of the excavators. Yet this,  as
it turned out, was  the least impressive of  its parts-at least, physically.  In
the days that followed, two giant,  jointed legs arrived, and then, in  a convoy
that took several hours to enter  the great chamber, the eighteen sections  that
made up its massive trunk.

Aitrus watched  in amazement  as trailer  after trailer  rolled in,  filling the
whole of the northern  end of the chamber.  Then, when he thought  no more could
possibly arrive, the cutting and grinding arms turned up-six massive half-tracks
bearing the load.

The job of reassembly could now begin.

For much of  the following weeks,  the young guildsmen  found themselves playing
messenger for the thousands of other guildsmen who had suddenly appeared at  the
site-running about the great chamber, taking endless diagrams and maps and notes
from guild to guild. The rest of the time they found themselves idle  spectators
as slowly the big machines took form.

It was a lengthy and painstaking process.

By the end of the third week, Grinder was complete. It crouched there, its  matt
black shape  still and  silent beneath  the ceiling  of the  chamber, like  some
strange cross between a  toad and a crab,  its huge cutting arms  lowered at its
sides. Like all the great machines, it was constantly updated and modified,  yet
its outer form was ancient.

Standing before it, Aitrus  felt, for the first  time in his life,  how small he
was compared to the ambitions of his race. Though the D'ni were long-lived,  the
rock  in which  trtey had  their being   was of  an age  that was  difficult  to
comprehend; yet with the use of  such machines they had challenged that  ancient
realm, wresting a living from its bare, inhospitable grip.

Grinder was  not simply  a machine,  it was  a statement-a  great shout into the
rock.  This  was D'ni!  Small,  temporary creatures  they  might be,  yet  their
defiance was godlike.

Turning  from it,  Aitrus walked  out across  that vast,  paved floor,  stepping
between the massive pillars that  stretched up into the darkness,  then stopped,
looking about him.

Grinder lay behind him  now. The Burrower and  Rock-Biter lav to his  left, like
huge black  scarabs. Ahead  of him  was the  dull red  shape of Old Stone Teeth,
squatting like a mantis between the pillars  and the celling. As a child he  had
had an illustrated book about Old  Stone Teeth, and he could vividly  recall the
pictures of the great machine as it leaned into the rock, powdered rock spraying
from the great vent underneath it into a succession of trailers.

And now, as an adult, he stood before it. Aitrus nodded to himself. It was  only
when you were  up close to  such machines that  you could appreciate  their true
size and power. No illustration could possibly do justice to such machines. They
were truly awesome.

That night Aitrus barely  slept. Soon it would  begin, and he would  live to see
it! This was a tale to  tell one's children and one's children's  children: how,
in the days of old, his people had  cut their way up from the depths and  made a
great shaft that had reached up from the darkness to the light.

The next morning Aitrus  was up early, keen  to start. But his  masters were, as
ever.-in no hurry. There were test boreholes to be drilled, and rock analyses to
be made. For the next few days the Guild of Analysts took over, their  temporary
laboratories filling the center of the chamber, their "samplers"- a dozen small,
bullet-shaped, autonomous  drilling machines  - boring  their way  into the rock
overhead.

For Aitrus the next  few weeks were pure  frustration. Much was done,  yet there
was still no  word of when  the main excavation  would begin. Letters  from home
spoke of the excitement throughout D'ni, yet  his own had waned. And he was  not
alone in feeling thus.

Returning to the excavator after a day of running messages, Aitrus was about  to
pass the Guild Master's cabin when he noted Telanis seated at his desk, his head
slumped forward, covered by his hands. A  single sheet of paper was on the  desk
before him.

"Master? Are you unwell?"

Telanis looked up. He seemed tired, his eyes glazed and dull.

"Come in and close the door, Aitrus."

Aitrus did as he was told.

"Now take a seat."

Aitrus sat, concern growing in him. Telanis was looking at him now.

"To answer your question, Aitrus, no, I am not unwell, at least, not physically.
But to be true to the spirit of  your question, yes. I feel an inner fatigue,  a
sense of..."

"Disappointment?"

Telanis's smile was weary.  "I thought it would  not concern me, Aitrus.  I knew
that at some stage the whole thing  might be taken from my hands. After  all, we
are but servants of the Council. Yet  I had not expected to feel so  useless, so
peripheral to events. Great things are happening, Aitrus. I had hoped ...  well,
that perhaps it would be we few who would be the ones to make the breakthrough."

Aitrus stared at  the Guild Master  in astonishment. He  had not even  suspected
that Telanis felt this way.

"It seems we were  merely the pathfinders, Aitrus.  Yet I, for one,  had grander
visions of myself. Yes, and of you crewmen, too. I saw us as explorers."

"And so we were. Master."

"Yes, and now we are redundant. Our part in things is done."

"So why do they not simply send us home to D'ni?"

In answer Telanis handed him the  paper. Aitrus quickly read it then  looked up,
surprised. "Then it is over."

"Yes," Telanis said quietly, "but not until the day after the capping  ceremony.
They want us there for that. After all,  it would hardly be right for us not  to
be there."

The slight edge of bitterness in Telanis's voice again surprised Aitrus. He  had
always viewed  Guild Master  Telanis as  a man  wholly without  desire; a  loyal
servant, happy to  do whatever was  required of him.  This tiny fit  of pique-if
pique it  was-seemed uncharacteristic.  Yet Telanis  clearly felt  hurt at being
brushed aside.

"They will surely recognize your contribution, Guild Master."

"Maybe  so," Telanis  answered distractedly,  "but it  will not  be you  and  I,
Aitrus, who step out onto the surface. That honor will be given to others."

For a moment Telanrs was silent, staring down at the letter on the desk  between
them. Then he looked back at Aitrus.

"Forgive me. I  did not mean  to unburden myself  on you, Aitrus.  Forget I ever
said anything."

Aitrus bowed his head. "As you wish." Yet as he stood, he felt compelled to  say
something more. "It was not your fault,  Guild Master. You led us well. None  of
us will ever forget it."

Telanis  looked  up, surprised,  then  looked back  down  again, a  dark  shadow
appearing in his eyes. Clearly he was thinking of Efanis.

"The excavation  begins tomorrow.  The capping  ceremony will  take place a week
from now. Use the time well, Aitrus.  Observe what you may. It may be  some time
before you return here."

                                   *   *   *

The next  morning the  major excavation  work began.  First into  action was Old
Stone Tooth,  the picture-book  illustrations coming  to life  for Aitrus  as he
watched the huge jaws of the machine lean into the ceiling, gnawing hungrily  at
the dark surface, a great fall of fine-ground rock cascading from three vents in
its long, segmented underside into a massive open trailer that squatted  beneath
the ancient machine, the gray-black heap in its giant hopper neither growing nor
diminishing as the minutes passed.

The noise was deafening.

For three long hours it labored, its long legs slowly stretching, its  shoulders
gradually disappearing  into the  great hole  It was  making in  the roof of the
chamber. Finally, with a deafening hiss, the great hydraulic legs began to  fold
back down. It was Grinder's turn.

As the grand old machine backed slowly into the shadows at the north end of  the
chamber, its massive chest stained black, its great cutting jaws still steaming.
Grinder eased forward.

As the huge machine  hissed violently and settled  into place beneath the  hole,
its  maintenance  crew  hurried across,  Aitrus  among  them, small  half-tracks
bringing up  the six  massive stone  brackets that  would secure  Grinder to the
floor of the chamber.

In an hour it was ready. The crew moved back behind the barriers as the five-man
special excavation team-their stature  enlarged by the special  black protective
suits they wore- crossed  the massive floor of  the great chamber, then  climbed
the runged ladder that studded Grinder's huge curved back.

Another  five minutes  and Grinder's  great engines  roared into  life.  Grinder
raised itself on its mighty hydraulic legs, like a toad about to leap, its  four
circular, slablike  grinding limbs  lifted like  a dancer's  arms. Then, without
warning, it elbowed its way into the rock.

If Old Stone Tooth had been loud, the noise Grinder made was almost  unbearable.
Even through the thick protective helmet and ear-mufflers he was wearing, Aitrus
found himself grimacing as the  high-pitched whine seemed to reach  right inside
him.

Slowly the jointed arms extended as the rock was worn away, until they formed  a
giant cross that  seemed to be  holding up the  roof of the  chamber even as  it
ground away at its  edges. Reaching a certain^pbint  it stopped and with  a huge
hiss of steam the arms retracted inward.

The relief from that  constant deafening noise was  sweet, but it was  brief. In
less  than  a  minute  it   started  up  again,  as  Grinder   lifted  slightly,
repositioning its limbs, then began to cut another "step" just above the one  it
had already made.

And so  it went  on, until  the great  hole Old  Stone Tooth  had made  had been
extended to form a massive vault. Not that it was finished even then: There  was
a great deal more rock to be cut  from the walls before the shaft could be  clad
with nara and  supported with cross-struts.  Before Rock-Biter and  The Burrower
were brought in, they had first to build a platform two-thirds of the way up the
partly completed  shaft. Once  that was  in place.  Old Stone  Tooth and Grinder
would be lifted up onto it by means of massive winches.

And then it  would begin again,  the two main  excavating machines taking  turns
carving out the main channel, while below them the two slightly smaller machines
finished the job they had begun, polishing the shaft walls and cutting the steps
that would spiral up the walls of the giant well.

As guildsmen from the  Guild of Engineers moved  into place, ready to  construct
the platform,  the young  Surveyors began  to drift  away, their  part in things
finished for a time.

Aitrus was the last to go, looking back over his shoulder as he went. Their camp
was a long way down the line, and walking back, through node after node  crammed
with guild tents and equipment, past endless troops of guildsmen coming up  from
D'ni, and units of the City Guard, whose job it was to keep the traffic  flowing
down  the tunnels,  Aitrus found  himself sharing  Master Telanis's  feeling  of
disappointment that things had been taken from their hands. In the face^ of such
awesome preparations, he saw now just how peripheral they really were to all  of
this.

Yes, and in six days they would be gone from here.

Aitrus sighed. His fellow Surveyors were  now some way ahead of him;  the murmur
of their talk, their brief but  cheerful laughter, drifted back to him  down the
tunnel. They, he knew, were keen to go home. Whether it was they or someone else
who made the breakthrough to the surface did not trouble them; at least, not  as
it troubled Master Telanis and himself.

Yet Master Telanis was right. One ought to finish what one had begun. It  seemed
only fitting.  And though  their whole  culture was  one of  finely drawn  guild
demarcations and task specialization, there had to be some areas in which  pure,
individual endeavor survived-and if not in the Guild of Surveyors, where else?

Stepping out  under the  node-gate and  onto the  platform where  their camp was
situated, Aitrus looked across at the excavators where they were parked  against
the north wall and smiled fondly. He was almost of a mind to ask to serve on  an
excavator crew again. That  was, if there wen  to be any new  explorations after
this.

Seeing Aitrus, Master  Telanis summoned him  across, then quickly  took him into
his cabin. He seemed strangely excited.

"Aitrus," he said, even before Aitrus had had a chance to take his seat, "I have
news that will cheer you greatly! The Council have reconsidered their  decision.
They have permitted  a small contingent  from the exploration  team to accompany
the Maintained for the breakthrough!"

Aitrus grinned broadly. "Then we shall get to finish the job!"

Telanis nodded. "I have  chosen six guildsmen to  accompany me. You, of  course,
shall be among their number."

Aitrus bowed his head. "I do not know how to thank you, Guild Master."

"Oh, do  not thank  me, Aitrus.  Thank your  friend Veovis.  It seems it was his
intervention that swayed them to reconsider.'

"Veovis?" Aitrus shook  his head in  amazement. He had  written to Veovis  weeks
back, thanking him for the gifts, but there had been nothing in his letter about
the Council's decision. "I do not understand."

Telanis sat,  then took  a letter  from the  side of  his desk  and handed it to
Aitrus. "It appears that your friend and benefactor, Veovis, has been an  active
member of  the Council  these past  two months,  since his  father's illness. It
seems that he has the ear of several of the older members. His suggestion that a
token body of men from the Guild of Surveyors should be included was  apparently
unopposed." Telanis smiled. "It seems we have much to thank him for."

"I shall write again and thank him, Master."

"There is no need for that," Telanis said, taking the letter back. "Veovis  will
be here  in person,  six days  from now.  Indeed, we  are to  be honored  by the
presence of the full Council for the capping ceremony. I am told that every last
cook in  D'ni has  been engaged  to prepare  for the  feast. It  should be  some
occasion! And all from the seed of our little venture!"

                                   *   *   *

The next few days passed  swiftly, and on the evening  of the sixth day, at  the
very  hour  that the  Guild  of Surveyors  had  estimated, the  great  shaft was
completed, the last curved section of nara lining bolted into place, the  eighty
great ventilation  fans, each  blade of  which was  thrice the  length of a man,
switched on.

It was an awesome sight. Standing on the floor of the great chamber, Aitrus felt
a tiny thrill ripple through him.  The great floor stretched away on  all sides,
its granite base paved now in  marble, a giant mosaic depicting the  city ofD'ni
at its center, the  whole surrounded by a  mosaic hoop of bright  blue rock that
was meant to symbolize the outer world that surrounded their haven in the  rock.
Yet, marvelous as it was, the eyes  did not dwell on that but were  drawn upward
by the great circle of the  walls that climbed vertiginously on every  side, the
spiral of steps like a black thread winding its way toward the distant heights.

Aitrus turned full circle, his mouth  fallen open. It was said that  some twenty
thousand fire-marbles had been set into the walls. Each had been placed within a
delicately sprung lamp  that was agitated  by the movement  of the fans.  As the
great blades  turned, the  fire-marbles glowed  with a  fierce, pure  light that
filled the great well.

He lowered his eyes and looked across. Already the Guild of Caterers was hard at
work,  whole troops  of uniformed  guildsmen carried  into the  chamber  massive
wooden tables  that would  seat twenty  men to  a side,  while others tended the
ovens that had been set up all along the southern wall, preparing for the  great
.feast that would take place the next day.

Old Stone Tooth had been dismantled and  shipped back down the line to D'ni  two
days back.  Grinder had  followed a  day later.  While the  guildsmen set up the
tables and began constructing the massive frames that would surround the central
area where the feast was  to be held, members of  the Guild of Miners were  busy
dismantling Rock-Biter and  Burrower on the  far side of  the great chamber.  By
tomorrow they, too, would be gone.

Aitrus,  freed  from  all  official duties,  spent  his  time  wandering on  the
periphery  of all  this activity,  watching what  was happening  and noting  his
observations in his  notebook. He was  watching a half-track  arrive, laden high
with fine linen and chairs, when two strangers approached.

"Aitrus?"

He turned. A  tall, cloaked man  was smiling at  him. Just behind  was a second,
smaller man, his body partly hunched, his features hidden within the hood of his
cloak.

"Forgive me," said the taller of the two, "but you are Aitrus, no? I am  Veovis.
I am pleased to meet you again after all these years."

Veovis was a head taller than  Aitrus remembered him and broad at  the shoulder.
His face was handsome but in a rather stark and monumental manner-in that he was
very  much his  father's son.  As Aitrus  shook the  young Lord's  hand, he  was
surprised by the smile  on Veovis's lips, the  unguarded look in his  eyes. This
seemed a very different person from the one he'd known at school all those years
ago.

"Lord Veovis,"  he said,  stowing his  notebook away.  "It seems  I have much to
thank you for."

"And  D'ni has  much to  thank you  for." Veovis  smiled. "You  and your  fellow
guildsmen, of course."  He turned slightly,  introducing his companion,  who had
now thrown back his hood. "This is  my friend and chief adviser, Lianis. It  was
Lianis who first brought your papers on pyroclastic deposits to my attention."

Aitrus looked to  Lianis and nodded,  surprised to find  so ancient a  fellow as
Veovis's assistant.

"Lianis was my  father's adviser, and  his father's before  him. When my  father
fell ill, it  was decided that  I should keep  him on as  my adviser, so  that I
might benefit from his experience  and wisdom." Veovis smiled. "And  fortunately
so, for he has kept me from many an error that my youth might otherwise have led
me into."

Aitrus nodded, then looked  to Lianis. "My paper  was but one of  many submitted
from the  expedition. Master  Lianis, and  hardly original  in its  ideas. I  am
surprised it attracted your attention."

Lianis, it seemed, had a face that did not ever smile. He stared back at  Aitrus
with a seriousness that seemed etched deep into the stone of his features. "Good
work  shines  forth  like  a  beacon,  Guildsman.  It  is  not  necessarily  the
originality of a  young man's work  but the clarity  of mind it  reveals that is
important.  I  merely  marked  a seriousness  of  intent  in  your writings  and
commented upon it to the young Lord's father. That is my task. I claim no credit
for it."

Aitrus smiled. "Even so, I thank you. Master Lianis, and you Lord Veovis. I have
found good use of the equipment you were so kind in giving me."

"And I am  glad it has-found  good use ...  though I never  doubted that for  an
instant."

The two men met each other's eyes and smiled.

"And now I am afraid I must go. My father's guildsmen await me. But I am glad  I
had  a chance  to speak  with you,  Aitrus. I  fear there  will be  little  time
tomorrow. However, when you are back in D'ni you must come and visit me."

Aitrus bowed his head. "My Lord."

Veovis gave the faintest nod, then, with a glance at Lianis, the two walked  on,
their cloaked figures diminishing as they crossed the great floor.

Aitrus stared a moment,  then, with a strange  sense of something having  begun,
took his  notebook from  his pocket  and, turning  to that  day's entries, wrote
simply:

Met Veovis again. He has clanged. The man  is not the child he was. He asked  me
to visit him in D'ni. He paused, then added. We shall see.

Closing the book, he slipped it back into his pocket, then, turning on his heel,
hurried across, heading for the bright circle of the exit tunnel.

                                   *   *   *

The great feast  to celebrate the  cutting of the  great shaft was  almost over.
Young guildsmen from  the Guild of  Artists looked on  from the edge  of events,
hurriedly sketching  the scene  as the  great men  said their  farewells to each
other.

It had been an extraordinary occasion, with speeches and poems in honor of  this
latest  venture of  the D'ni  people. A  year from  now a  whole series  of  new
canvases and tapestries would hang in  the corridors of the Guild House  back in
D'ni,  capturing the  occasion for  posterity, but  just now  the Grand  Masters
talked of  more mundane  affairs. Matters  of State  stopped for  no man  and no
occasion-even one so great as this-and there was ever much to be discussed.

It was not often that one saw all eighteen major Guilds represented in a  single
place,  and  the  colorful sight  of  their  distinctive ceremonial  cloaks-each
Guild's color different,  each cloak decorated  with the symbols  that specified
the rank and status of the guildsman who wore it-gave Aitrus an almost  childish
delight. Such things he had only glimpsed in books before now.

Aitrus's own cloak, like  those of all young  guildsmen without rank, had  eight
such symbols, four to each side, beneath the lapels, whereas those of the  great
Lords had but a single one.

Looking on from where he sat on the far side of the feasting circle, Aitrus  saw
Veovis  rise  from his  seat  to greet  one  of the  Great  Lords, his  friendly
deference making the old man smile. Four of the Five were here today, the  fifth
- Veovis's father-being too ill to come. All eighteen of the Grand Masters  were
also here, to represent their guilds,  along with several hundred of their  most
senior Masters, every one of them resplendent in their full Guild colors.

To a young guildsman, they seemed  an impressive host. Lord Tulla, it  was said,
was 287 years old, and his  three companions-the Lords R'hira, Nehir, and  Eneah
-were all well into  their third century. Veovis,  by comparison, was a  babe- a
glint  of  sunlight  against  dark shadow.  Lord  Tulla,  in  particular, looked
like,something carved, as if, in the extremity of age, he had become the rock in
which he had lived  all his life.

One day, perhaps, Aitrus too might become a Grand Master, or perhaps even one of
the Five, yet the road that led to such heights was long and hard, and some days
he wondered if he had the temperament.

If this expedition  had proved one  single thing to  him it was  that he was  of
essence a  loner. He  had thought,  perhaps, that  such close  proximity to  his
fellows, day in, day out, might  have brought him out of his  shell-rounding off
the hard edges of his  nature-but it had not proved  so. It was nor that  he did
not get on with his fellow cadets-he  liked them well enough and they seemed  to
like him-it was  simply, that he  did not share  their pursuits, their  constant
need for small distractions.

You  were born  old, Aitrus,  his mother  had so  often said.  Too old  and  too
serious. And it  had worried him.  But now he  knew he could  not change what he
was. And others,  Master Telanis among  them, seemed to  value that seriousness.
They saw it not as a weakness but a strength.

Even so, he wondered how  well he would settle back  into the life of the  Guild
House. It was  not the work-the  studying and practicals-that  concerned him but
the personal element. Watching  the great men at  the feast had reminded  him of
that, of the small, personal sacrifices one made to be a senior Guildsman.

Given the  choice, Aitrus  would have  spent his  whole life exploring; drilling
through the rock and surveying. But that, he understood, was a young man's  job,
and he would not be a young man all his life. In time he would be asked to  take
charge; of small projects at first,  but then steadily larger and larger  tasks,
and  in so  doing he  would have   to deal  not with  the dynamics  of  rock-the
certainties  of  weight  and  form  and  pressure-but  with  the  vagaries   and
inconsistencies of personality.

He looked across, catching Telanis's eye. The Guild Master smiled and raised the
silver goblet he was holding in  a toast. Aitrus raised his own  uncertainly but
did not sip. Many of  his companions were drunk, but  he had not touched even  a
drain of the strong wine he had been served.

Indeed, if the choice had been given him, he would have left an hour back, after
the last speech, but it  was not deemed polite for  any of them to leave  before
their Masters. And so they sat, amid  the ruins of the feast, looking on  as the
old men went from table to table.

"Look!" someone  whispered to  Aitrus's right.  "The young  Lord is  coming over
here!"

Aitrus looked  up to  see Veovis  making his  way across.  Seeing Aitrus, Veovis
smiled, then turned to address Telanis. "Master Telanis, might I have a word  in
private with Guildsman Aitrus?"

"Of course," Telanis answered, giving the slightest bow of respect.

Aitrus, embarrassed by the  sudden attention, rose and  made his way around  the
table to where Veovis stood.

"Forgive me, Aitrus,"  Veovis began, keeping  his voice low.  "Once more I  must
rush off. But  Lord Tulla has  given me permission  to stay on  an extra day.  I
thought we might talk. Tomorrow, after the breaching."

The  "breaching"  was  a  small  ceremony  to  mark  the  commencement  of   the
breakthrough tunnel.

Aitrus nodded. "I'd welcome that."

"Good."  Briefly  Veovis  held  his arm,  then,  as  if  he understood  Aitrus's
embarrassment, let his hand fall away. "Tomorrow, then."

                                   *   *   *

That evening they winched the excavator up onto the platform at the very top  of
the  great shaft.  Aitrus, standing  beside Master  Telanis, watched  as it  was
lowered onto the metal grid, feeling an immense pride at the sight of the craft.
Its usefulness as a cutter was marginal now-other machines, much larger and more
efficient were already in place, ready to cut the final tunnel from the rock-yet
it would serve as their quarters in this final leg of their journey.

Earlier, Master Telanis had given a  moving speech as he said farewell  to those
cadets who would be returning to D'ni in the morning. Only Master Geran, Aitrus,
and five  others remained;  their sole  task now  to represent  their Guild when
finally they broke through to the surface.

"How long will it take?" he asked, looking to Telanis.

The Guild Master's attention was on the excavator, as strange hands removed  the
winch chains  and began  to lift  the craft  so they  could extricate  the great
cradle from  beneath it.  His eyes  never leaving  that delicate  task, Telanis,
answered Aitrus quietly.

"A week. Maybe less. Why? Are you impatient, Aitrus?"

"No, Master."

"Good. Because I would hate you to be disappointed."

"I do not understand. Master."

Telanis glanced at him. "The tunnel will be cut. But whether we shall ever  step
out onto the surface is another matter.  There will be one final meeting of  the
Council to decide that."

Aitrus felt a strange disturbance-a  feeling almost of giddiness-at the  thought
of coming  so close  and never  actually stepping  out onto  the surface  of the
world.

"1 thought it had been decided."

Telanis nodded vaguely.  "So did I.  Yet it is  an important matter-perhaps  the
most important they have  had to debate for  many centuries. If they  are wrong,
then D'ni itself  might suffer. And  so the Council  deliberate until the  last.
Why,  even today,  at the  feast, they  were still  discussing it  even as  they
congratulated one another!"

"And if they decide not to?"

Telanis turned and met his eyes. "Then we go home, Aitrus."

"And the tunnel?"

"Will be sealed. At least, this top part of it. It is unlikely that the  surface
-dwellers have the technology to drill down into the shaft, even if they were to
locate it."

"I see."

"No, Aitrus. Neither you nor I see,  not as the Great Lords see. Yet  when their
final word comes, whatever it may be, we shall do as they instruct."

"And what  do you  think, Master?  Do you  think they  will let  us contact  the
surface-dwellers?"

Telanis  laughed quietly.  "If I  knew that,  Aitrus, I  would be  a Great  Lord
myself."

                                   *   *   *

That night Aitrus woke  to find the platform  trembling, as if a  giant gong had
been struck in the depths. All  about him people slept on drunkenly,  unaware of
the faint tremor. After  a while it subsided  and the platform was  still again.
For a  moment Aitrus  wondered if  he had  imagined it,  but then it came again,
stronger this time, almost audible.

Aitrus shrugged off  his blanket and  stood, then walked  across until he  stood
close to  the edge  of the  great drop.  The whole  shaft was vibrating, and now
there was the faintest hum-a deep bass note-underlying everything.

For close on three months, the earth had been silent. Now, even as they prepared
to leave it, it had awoken once again.

Aitrus turned,  looking back  to where  the guildsmen  were encamped  beside the
excavator, but  they slept  on, in  a dead  sleep after  the feast. He alone was
awake.

Hurrying across, he bent down beside Master Geran and gently shook him. At first
the old man did not wake, but then his blind eyes flicked open.

"Aitrus?"

Aitrus did not know how the old man did it, but his senses were infallible.

"There's  movement," he  said quietly.  "The shaft  was vibrating  like a  great
hollow pipe."

Master Geran sat up, then turned to face the center of the tunnel. For a  moment
he was perfectly still, then he looked up at Aitrus again. "Help me up, boy."

Aitrus leaned down, helping him up.

"How many times?" Geran asked as he shuffled over to the edge of the shaft.

"Three so far. That is, if the one that woke me was the first."

Geran nodded,  then dropped  into a  crouch, the  fingertips of  his right  hand
brushing gently against the surface of the platform.

For two, maybe three minutes they waited, Aitrus standing there at his side, and
then it came again, stronger-much stronger-this time and more prolonged. When it
had subsided, Geran stood and shook his head.

"It's hard to tell  the direction of it.  The shaft channels its  energy. But it
was powerful, Aitrus. I wonder why I was not woken by it."

Aitrus looked down, a faint smile on his lips, but said nothing. He had seen how
much of the strong D'ni wine Master Geran had drunk. The only real surprise  was
that he had woken when Aitrus had shaken him.

"Should we wake the others. Master?" he asked. But Geran shook his head.

"No. We shall leave it for now. The final survey will show whether there is  any
risk. Personally I doubt it. We have  come far to the north of the  isopaches we
identified earlier. If there is any volcanic activity, it is far from here. What
we are hearing are merely echoes  in the rock, Aitrus. Impressive, yes,  but not
harmful."

Geran smiled, then pitted his arm. "So get some sleep, eh, lad? Tomorrow will be
a long day."

                                   *   *   *

Reassured by Master Geran, Aitrus settled back beneath his blanket and was  soon
asleep once more. If the ground shook, he did not notice it. Indeed, he was  the
last to wake. Master Telanis's hand on his shoulder, shaking him, returning  him
from the dark stupor into which he seemed to have descended.

"Come, Aitrus. Wash now and get dressed. The ceremony is in half an hour!"

They lined up before  the cutter, alongside men  from the Guild of  Maintainers,
whose  task it  would be  to oversee  this final  stage of  the journey  to  the
surface.

The Maintainers were  one of the  oldest guilds, and  certainly one of  the most
important, their  Grand Masters-  alongside those  of the  Guild of Writers, the
Miners, the  Guild of  Books and  the Ink-Makers-becoming  in time  the Lords of
D'ni, members of the  Five. Yet this was  a strange and perhaps  unique task for
them, for  normally their  job was  to ensure  that the  D'ni Books were kept in
order, the  Ages correctly  run, and  that the  long-established laws, laid down
countless generations before, were carried out to the letter. They had little to
do with excavations and the cutting of tunnels. Indeed, guilds-men from some  of
the more  physical guilds-those  who dealt  constantly with  earth and  rock and
stone-would, in the privacy of their own Guild Halls, speak quietly of them,  in
a derogatory fashion,  as "clean-handed fellows."  Yet these guildsmen  had been
specially trained for this purpose'and had among their number guildsmen  drafted
in from the Guild of Miners, and from the Surveyors.

They now would carry out the final excavation, and if any surface dwellers  were
found, it would be the Maintainers  who would first establish contact, for  this
was a most delicate  matter and it was  held that only the  Maintainers could be
vouchsafed to undertake that task properly.

Few of the Guild Masters who had  been at the feast the day before  had remained
for this final little ceremony; yet  in the small group who now  stepped forward
were no less than  two of the Great  Lords, Lord Tulla and  Lord Eneah. Standing
just behind them, among a group of five Grand Masters, was Veovis.

Lord Tulla said a few words,  then stepped forward, pulling down the  lever that
would set the great cutter in motion. As he did, Veovis looked across at  Aitrus
and gave the tiniest nod.

Were these, Aitrus  wondered, the faction  in the Council  who were in  favor of
making contact with  the surface-dwellers? Or  was that a  misreading of things?
Had the rest, perhaps, simply been too busy to attend?

As Lord Tulla stepped  back, the engines of  the cutter thundered into  life and
the circular blade began to spin, slowly at first, then, as it nudged the  rock,
with increasing speed.

The simple ceremony was concluded. The  great men turned away, ready to  depart.
At a signal from Master Telanis, the Surveyors fell out.

Aitrus could see that Veovis was busy, talking to the Grand Master of the  Guild
of Messengers. Content to wait,  he watched the machine, remembering  the noises
in the night.

Master Geran had been up early, he had been told, making pgy survey of the  rock
through which this final tunnel was  to be due. His soundings had  shown nothing
unusual, and the vibrations in the earth had ceased. Both Geran and Telanis were
of  the  opinion  that the  quakes  had  not been  serious,  but  were only  the
settlement of old  faults. Aitrus himself  had not been  quire so sure,  but had
bowed to their experience.

"Aitrus?"

He turned, facing Veovis.

The young Lord smiled apologetically. "You must forgive me, Aitrus. Once again I
must be  elsewhere. But  I shall  return, this  evening, after  I have seen Lord
Tulla off. I did not thinK he would  stay for the ceremony, but he wished to  be
here."

"I understand."

"Good." And without further word, Veovis turned and hurried across to where Lord
Tulla was waiting.

Aitrus watched the party step into the special carriage that had been set up  on
a temporary  track down  the wall  of the  shaft, then  stepped up  to the edge,
following its progress down that great well until it was lost to sight.

It  was strange.  The more  Veovis delayed  their talk,  the more  uncomfortable
Aitrus found himself at  the thought of it.  Veovis wanted to be  his friend, it
seemed. But why? It made little  sense to him. Surely Veovis had  friends enough
of his own? And even if that were  not so, why him? Why not someone more  suited
to his social role?

Perhaps it would all come clear. Yet he doubted it. The rock was predictable. It
had its moods, yet it could be read, its actions foreseen. But who could say  as
much of a man?

Aitrus turned, looking back across the platform. Already the cutter was deep  in
the rock, like a weevil burrowing its way into a log. Crouching, he got out  his
notebook and,  opening it,  laid it  on his  knee, looking  about him,  his eyes
taking in every detail of the scene.

This evening, he thought. Then, dismissing it from his mind, he began to sketch.

                                   *   *   *

Aitrus was reaching up, his hands blindly feeling for the scales, when the shock
wave struck. He was thrown  forward, his forehead smacking against  the bulkhead
as the whole craft seemed to be picked up and rolled over onto its side.

For five long seconds the excavator shook, a great sound of rending and  tearing
filling the air.

And then silence.

Struggling up, Aitrus  put a hand  to his brow  and felt blood.  Outside, on the
platform, a siren was sounding. For  a moment the lights in the  craft flickered
dimly, then the override switched in and the emergency lighting came on. In  its
sudden light, he could see that the excavator had been completely overturned. It
lay now on its back.

Pulling himself hand by hand along the tilted corridor, he climbed out onto  the
side of the craft and looked about him.

Guildsmen were running about, shouting urgently to one another. On the far  side
ot the platform a  huge section of the  metal grid had buckled  and slipped from
its supports  and now  hung dangerously  over the  shaft. Behind  it a dark line
snaked up the wall of the shaft.

Aitrus's mouth fell  of&n in surprise.  The shaft was  breached! The nara  stone
torn sheet from sheet!

The quake must have been directly beneath them.

Looking across, he  saw that the  mouth of the  new tunnel was  cracked. A large
chunk of rock had  fallen from the arch  and now partly blocked  the tunnel. The
cutter, deep inside the tunnel, was trapped.

As he stood there, Master Telanis came over to him and, grasping his arm, turned
Aitrus to face him.

"Aitrus! Get on protective gear at once, then report back to me. We must  secure
this area  as soon  as possible.  If there's  another quake,  the platform could
collapse."

Too shocked to speak, Aitrus nodded, then ducked back inside, making his way  to
the equipment room. In a  minute he was back, two  spare canisters of air and  a
breathing helmet  lugged behind  him. If  the air  supply to  the shaft had been
breached, breathing  might soon  become a  problem, particularly  if any  of the
great ventilation fans had been damaged.

Seeing him emerge,  Telanis beckoned him  across. Several of  the guildsmen were
already gathered about him, but of Master Geran there was no sign.

Calmly, the simple sound of his voice enough to steady the frayed nerves of  the
young men,  Master Telanis  organized them:  sending some  to bring powerdrills,
others to sort out protective clothing. Finally, he turned, looking to Aitrus.

"Master Geran has gone, Aitrus," he said quietly. "He was standing near the edge
when it hit. I saw him go over."

The news came like a physical blow. Aitrus gave a tiny cry of pain.

"I know," Telanis said, laying a  comforting hand on his shoulder. "But  we must
look after the living now. We do not know the fate of the cutter's crew yet. And
there were Maintainers with them. If the tunnel came down on them we may have to
try to dig them out."

Aitrus  nodded,  but he  was  feeling numb  now.  Geran gone.  It  did not  seem
possible.

"What should I do?" he said, trying to keep himself from switching off.

"I have a special task for you, Aitrus. One that will require an immense  amount
of courage. I want you to go down and make contact with whoever is in the  lower
chamber. I want you to let them know how things are up here: that the shaft wall
is cracked, the cutting team trapped. And if they can send help, then I want  it
sent as soon as possible. You have that, Aitrus?"

"Master."

But for a moment he simply stood there, frozen to the spot.

"Well, Aitrus?" Telanis coaxed gently.

The words released him. Strapping one of the cylinders to his back, he pulled on
the helmet, then hurried across to the head of the steps.

They were blocked. A great sheet ofnara had fallen across the entrance. He would
have to find another way down.

He went back to where the  temporary track began. With the steps  blocked, there
was only one  way down, and  that was to  climb down the  track, hand over hand,
until he reached the bottom.

For a moment he hesitated, then, swinging  out over the gap, he grabbed hold  of
the  metal maintenance  ladder that  ran between  the broad  rails pfthe  track.
Briefly his eye went to  the metal clip at the  neck of his uniform. If  another
big quake struck, he would  have to clip himself to  the ladder and pray it  did
not come away from the shaft wall.

And if it did?

Aitrus pushed the thought away and, concentrating on the task at hand, began the
descent.

                                   *   *   *

Aitrus was almost halfway down when the second quake struck.

Clipping himself to the metal strut, he locked both arms about the ladder,  then
dug his toes into the gap between the rung and the wall.

This time it went on  and on, the whole shaft  shaking like a giant organ  pipe,
things falling from the platform overhead.

The metal track beside him  groaned and for a while  he thought it was going  to
prize itself from  the wall as  the metal studs  strained to come  away from the
rock-if he wasn't shaken from the ladder first!

How long it was he could not  tell, but it seemed a small eternity  before, with
an echoing fall, the shaking stopped.

The sudden silence was eerie. And  then something clattered onto the marble  far
below.

Aitrus  opened his  eyes. Across  from him  the shaft  wall gaped.  Cracks  were
everywhere now. The  great molded sections  were untouched, yet  there were huge
gaps between them now, as if  the tunnel wall behind them had  slipped backward.
The outer wall of the spiral steps  had fallen away in many places, and  several
of the huge securing rivets had jiggled tneir way out of the rock.

The sight made his stomach fall away. It had all seemed so sound, so  permanent,
yet one more quake and the whole shaft could easily collapse in upon itself.

Unclipping himself, Aitrus resumed his descent, ignoring the aches in his calves
and shoulders, pushing himself  now, knowing that time  was against him. But  he
had not gone far when he stopped dead.

There had been a shout, just below him.

He leaned out, trying to see where it had come from, and at once caught sight of
the carriage.

Some forty, maybe fifty  spans below him, the  track bulged away from  the shaft
wall, pulled outward by the weight of the carriage.

As Aitrus stared, the shout came again. A cry for help.

"Hold on!" he shouted back. "Hold on, I'm coming!"

The floor of the shaft was still a good five hundred spans below, and looking at
the way the track was pulled away from the wall, he knew he would have to  climb
along the track and over the top of the carriage if he was to help.

A length of rope  would have come in  handy, but he had  none. All he had  was a
canister of air.

Making sure his grip on the  ladder was good, Aitrus reached across  and grabbed
hold of the rail.

Just below where he had hold of it,  the bolts that had pinned the track to  the
shaft wall had been pulled out. The question was: Would his extra weight bring a
further length of track away from  the wall and send the carriage  tumbling down
to the foot of the great shaft?

He would have to take a chance.

The outer edge of the track was grooved to match the teeth in the track that ran
up one side of the carriage. The great euide wire that ran through the  carriage
had snapped,  so that  tooth-and-groove connection  was all  that prevented  the
carriage from falling. If that went...

There was the  faintest rumble, deep  in the earth.  Things fell with  a distant
clatter onto the marbled floor below. The metal of the carriage groaned.

Now, he told himself. Now, before there's another quake.

Counting to five, he  swung over onto the  track, his fingers wrapped  about the
toothlike indentations in the rail, then he began to edge backward and down, his
feet dangling over the abyss.

The track creaked and groaned but did not give. He moved his hands, sliding them
slowly along the rail, left hand then  right, his eyes all the while staring  at
the wall just above him, praying the bolts would hold. And then his toes brushed
against the roof of the carriage.

He swallowed deeply, then found his voice again. "Are you all right?"

There was a  moment's silence, then,  in what was  almost a whisper.  "I'm badly
hurt. I've stopped the bleeding, but..."

Aitrus blinked. That voice.

"Veovis?"

There was a groan.

It was Veovis. He was certain of it.

"Hold on," Aitrus said. "It won't be long now."

There was a hatch underneath the carriage. If he could climb beneath it and  get
into it that way, there was much less chance of him pulling the carriage off its
guide track.

Yes, but how would he reach the hatch? And what if he could not free the lock?

No. This once he had  to be direct. He would  have to climb over the  top of the
carriage and  lower himself  in, praying  that the  track would  bear the  extra
weight.

Slowly Aitrus  lowered himself  onto the  roof, prepared  at any  moment for the
whole thing to give.

He was breathing quickly  now, the blood pounding  in his ears. The  straps from
the  cylinder were  beginning to  cut into  his shoulders  and for  a moment  he
wondered if he should  slip it off, together  with the helmet, and  let it fall,
but it seemed too much effort. If  he was going to die, the cylinder  would make
no difference. Besides, he  was almost there now.  He had only to  slip his legs
down over the edge of the roof and lower himself inside.

It was  easier said  than done.  With his  legs dangling  out over  the roof, he
realized that he was just as likely to fall out into the shaft as he was to slip
inside, into the relative safety of the carriage. Yet even as he thought it,  he
lost his grip  and slipped. With  a cry, he  reached out and  caught hold of the
metal bar above the  carriage door. His whole  body was twisted violently  about
and then slammed against the side of the carriage.

The pain took  his breath for  a moment. For  a full second  his feet kicked out
over the gap as he struggled to hold on. Then, with a grunt of effort, he  swung
himself inside.

The carriage creaked and  groaned as it swung  with him. There was  the sound of
bolts tearing from the  wall. One by one  they gave with a  sharp pinging sound.
With a sudden jolt  the carriage dropped, throwing  Aitrus from his feet,  then,
with another jolt, it held.

Aitrus lay on his back, the cylinder wedged under him. He felt bruised all over,
but he was  alive. Turning his  head, he looked  across the narrow  floor of the
carriage.

Veovis lay there, not an arm's  length from him, his eyes closed,  his breathing
shallow. His flesh, which had seemed pale before, was now ash white, as if there
were no life in him.

Moving slowly, carefully,  Aitrus got himself  up into a  sitting position, then
edged across to where Veovis lay.

Veovis looked badly hurt. There was a large bruise at his temple, and blood  had
seeped through the  makeshift bandage he  had wrapped about  his upper arm,  but
that would have to wait. His breathing had become erratic. Even as Aitrus leaned
over him to listen to his chest, Veovis's breath caught and stopped.

For a moment  Aitrus wasn't sure.  Then, knowing that  every second counted,  he
reached behind him and pulled the cylinder  up over his head, laying it down  at
Veovis's side before removing his helmet.

Precious seconds were wasted making sure the airflow was working properly; then,
satisfied, he lifted Veovis's head and slipped the helmet on, before rolling him
over onto his back.

The carriage swayed then settled.

Nothing was happening ...

Aitrus blinked,  then felt  down at  the wrist  for a  pulse. Veovis's heart had
stopped.

Leaning  over him,  Aitrus pressed  into his  chest, leaned  back, then  pressed
again. Veovis groaned, then sucked in air.

Aitrus sat back, knowing that he had done as much as he could. Veovis was in  no
condition to help himself, and on his own, Aitrus knew that he would not be able
to lift the deadweight of Veovis out of the carriage and back down to the  floor
of the shaft.

There was a faint rumble. Again the carriage shook.

Slowly the rumbling grew, stronger and  stronger until Aitrus was sure that  the
carriage would shake  itself free from  the restraining track.  Slowly the light
faded, as if a great shadow had formed about them. Then, with a sound of rending
metal, the carriage was torn from the track.

It tilted sharply forward. Aitrus caught  his breath, waiting for the fall,  but
the carriage  had stopped  in midair.  Slowly, the  walls on  either side of him
began to buckle inward.

"Noooo-oh!"

The buckling  stopped. With  a hiss  of hydraulics  the carriage jerked forward,
then began slowly to descend with a strange Jogging motion.

Aitrus began to laugh. Relief flooded him.

It was a cutter. A cutter had climbed the shaft walls and plucked them from  the
track. Now, holding them between its  cutting arms, it was slowly carrying  them
down.

Aitrus leaned  across, checking  that Veovis  was breathing  steadily, then  sat
back, closing his eyes, his head resting against the buckled wall.

Safe.

                                   *   *   *

The Council ordered the shaft repaired, the top tunnel completed, and then  they
sealed  it. There  was to  be no  break through,  no meeting  with the   surface
-dwellers. That was decided within the first ten minutes of the meeting. Whether
the auakes had happened or not, they would have decided thus, But there was  the
matter of D'ni  pride, D'ni expertise  to be addressed,  hence the repairs,  the
drive toward completion.

It would not be said that they had failed. No. The D'ni did not fail. Once  they
had decided upon a course of action,  they would carry it through. That was  the
D'ni way, and had been for a thousand generations.

In the future, perhaps, when circumstances differed, or the mood of the  Council
had changed, the tunnel  might be unsealed, a  form of contact established,  but
for now that was not to be.

And so the adventure ended. Yet life went on.

                                   *   *   *

It was two  weeks after the  Council's decision, and  Aitrus was sitting  in the
garden on K'veer, the island mansion owned by Lord Rakeri situated to the  south
of the great cavern of D'ni.

Rakeri's  son,  the  young  Lord  Veovis,  was  lounging  on  a  chair   nearby,
recuperating, his  shoulder heavily  bandaged, the  bruising to  his head  still
evident. The two  young men had  been talking, but  were quiet now,  thoughtful.
Eventually, Aitrus looked up and shook his head.

"Your father's offer is kind, Veovis, and well meant, yet I cannot accept it. He
says he feels a  debt of gratitude to  me for saving your  life, yet I did  only
what any other man would  have done. Besides, I wish  to make my own way  in the
world. To win honor by my own endeavors."

Veovis smiled. "I understand that fully, Aitrus, and it does you credit. And  if
it helps make things easier, I,  too, would have turned down my  father's offer,
though be sure you never tell him that."

Aitrus made to speak, but Veovis raised a hand.

"However," he  went on,  "I owe  you a  debt, whatever  you may  say about  this
mythical 'anyman' who might or might not  have helped me. Whether that is so  or
not, you  did help  me. And  for that  I shall  remain eternally grateful. Oh, I
shall not embarrass you with gifts or offers of patronage, dear friend, but  let
me make it  clear, if there  is ever anything  you want- anything-that  is in my
power to grant you, then come to me and I shall grant it. There, that is my last
word on it! Now we  are even. Now we can  both relax and feel less  awkward with
each other, eh?"

Aitrus smiled. "You felt it, too?"

"Yes. Though I don't know which is harder, owing a life or being owed one."

"Then let us do as you say. Let us be friends without obligations."

"Yes," Veovis said, rising  awkwardly from his chair  to grasp both of  Aitrus's
hands in his own in the D'ni fashion. "Friends, eh?"

"Friends," Aitrus agreed, smiling back at the young Lord, "until the last  stone
is dust."




PART TWO
OF STONE AND DUST AND ASHES

Anna stood at the center of the strange circle of rock and dust and looked about
her, her eyes half-hdded.

She was a  tall, rather slender  girl of eighteen  years, and she  wore her long
auburn hair, which  had been bleached  almost blond by  the sun, tied  back in a
plait at  her neck.  Like her  father, she  was dressed  in a  long black desert
cloak, hemmed in red with  a broad leather tool belt  at the waist. On her  back
was a leather knapsack, on her feet stout leather boots.

Her father was to  the left of her,  slowly walking the circle's  edge, the wide
-brimmed hat he wore to keep off  the sun was pulled back, a look  of puzzlement
on his face.

They had discovered the circle the previous  day, on the way back from a  survey
of a sector of the desert southwest of the dormant volcano.

"Well?" she asked, turning to him. "What is it?"

"I don't  know," he  answered, his  voice husky.  "Either someone  spent an  age
constructing this, sorting and grading the  stones by size then laying them  out
in perfect circles, or ..."

"Or what?"

He shook his head. "Or someone shook the earth, like a giant sieve." He laughed.
"From below, I mean."

"So what did cause it?"

"I don't know," he said again. "I really don't. I've never seen anything like it
in over fifty years of surveying, and I've seen a lot of strange things."

She walked over to him, counting each step, then made a quick calculation in her
head.

"It's eighty paces in diameter, so  that's close on eight hundred square  feet,"
she said. "I'd say that's much too big to have been made."

"Unless you had a whole tribe working at it."

"Yes, but  it looks  natural. It  looks ...  well, I  imagine that from above it
would look like a giant drop of water had fallen from the sky."

"Or that sieve of  mine." He narrowed his  eyes and crouched a  moment, studying
the pattern of stones by his  feet, then shook his head again.  "Vibrations," he
said quietly. "Vibrations deep in the earth."

"Volcanic?"

"No." He looked up at his daughter. "No, this was no quake. Quakes crack  stone,
or shatter it, or deposit it. They don't grade it and sort it."

"You're looking tired," she said after a moment. "Do you want to rest a while?"

She did not usually comment on how  he looked, yet there was an edge  of concern
in her voice. Of late  he had tired easily. He  seemed to have lost much  of the
vigor he had had of old.

He did not answer her. Not that she expected him to. He was never one for  small
talk.

Anna looked about her once more. "How long do you think it's been here?"

"It's sheltered here," he said after  a moment, his eyes taking in  every detail
of his surroundings. "There's  not much sand drift.  But judging by' what  there
is, I'd say it's been here quite a while. Fifty years, perhaps?"

Anna nodded. Normally  she would have  taken samples, yet  it was not  the rocks
themselves but the way they were laid out that was different here.

She went over  to her father.  "I think we  should go back.  We could come  here
tomorrow, early."

He nodded. "Okay. Let's do that. I could do with a long, cool soak."

"And strawberries and cream, too, no doubt?"

"Yes, and a large glass of brandy to finish with!"

They both laughed.

"I'll see what I can rustle up."

                                   *   *   *

The Lodge had been named by her father in a moment of good humor, not after  the
hunting lodge  in which  he had  spent his  own childhood,  back in  Europe, but
because it was lodged into a shelf between the rock wall and the shelf below.  A
narrow stone bridge-hand-cut by her father some fifteen years ago, when Anna was
barely three-linked  it to  the rest  of the  rocky outcrop,  traversing a broad
chasm that in places was close to sixty feet deep.

The  outer  walls of  the  Lodge were  also  of hand-cut  stone,  their polished
surfaces laid flush.  A small, beautifully  carved wooden door,  set deep within
the  white stone  at the  end of  the narrow  bridge, opened  onto a  long,  low
-ceilinged room that had been hewn from the rock.

Four additional rooms led off from  that long roorrfc three to the  right, which
they used as living quarters, and another, their laboratory and workshop, to the
left.

Following him inside, she helped him down onto the great sofa at the end of  the
room, then ducked under the narrow  stone lintel into the galley-kitchen at  the
front.

A moment later she returned, a stone tumbler of cold water held out to him.

"No, Anna. That's too extravagant!"

"Drink it,"  she said  insistently. "I'll  make a  special journey  to the  pool
tonight."

He hesitated, then, with a frown of self-disapproval, slowly gulped it down.

Anna, watching him, saw suddenly how pained he was, how close to exhaustion, and
wondered how long he had struggled on like this without saying anything to her.

"You'll  rest  tomorrow," she  said,  her voice  brooking  no argument.  "I  can
continue with the survey on my own."

She could see he didn't like the idea; nonetheless, he nodded.

"And the report?"

"If the report's late, it's late," she said tetchily.

He turned his head, looking at her. "I gave my word."

"You're ill. He'll understand. People are ill."

"Yes, and people starve. It's a hard world, Anna."

"Maybe so. But we'll survive. And you are ill. Look at you. You need rest."

He sighed. "Okay. But a day. That's all."

"Good. Now let's get you to your bed. I'll wake you later for supper."

                                   *   *   *

It was dark when  she heard him wake.  She had been sitting  there, watching the
slow, inexorable movement of the stars through the tiny square of window.

Turning, she looked through to where he  lay, a shadow among the shadows of  the
inner room.

"How are you feeling now?"

"A little better. Not so tired anyway."

Anna stood, walked over to where the pitcher rested in its carved niche,  beside
the marble slab on which she prepared  all their meals, and poured him a  second
tumbler of cold  water. She had  climbed down to  the pool at  the bottom of the
chasm earlier, while he  slept, and brought two  pitchers back, strapped to  her
back, their  tops stoppered  to prevent  them from  leaking as  she climbed  the
tricky rock face. It would last them several days if they were careful.

He sipped eagerly as she held the  tumbler to his lips, then sank back  onto his
pallet bed.

"I was dreaming," he said.

"Were you?"

"Of mother. I was thinking how much you've come to look like her."

She did not answer him. Six years had passed, but still the subject was too  raw
in her memory to speak of.

"I was thinking I might stay  here tomorrow," she said, after a  moment. "Finish
those experiments you began last week."

"Uhuh?"

"I thought... well, I thought I could be on hand then, if you needed me."

"I'll be okay. It's only tiredness."

"I know,but..."

"If you want to stay, stay."

"And the experiments?"

"You know what you're doing, Anna. You know almost as much as I do now."

"Never," she said, smiling across at him.

The silence stretched on. After a while she could hear his soft snoring fill the
darkened room.

She moved back, into the  kitchen. The moon had risen.  She could see it low  in
the sky through the window.

Setting the tumbler down, Anna sat on  the stone ledge of the window and  looked
out across the desert. What if it wasn't simple tiredness? What if he was ill?

It was more than a hundred miles  to Tadjinar. If her father was ill,  there was
no wav they would make it there across  the desert, even if she laid him on  the
cart. Not in the summer's heat.

She would have to tend him here, using what they had.

Her head had fallen at the thought. She lifted it now. It was no good moping.

Flowers. She would paint him some flowers and place the canvas in the doorway so
he would see them when he woke in the morning.

The idea  of it  galvanized her.  She got  up and  went through to the workroom,
lighting the oil lamp  with her father's tin-derbox  and setting it down  on the
stone tabletop on the far side of the room.

Then, humming softly to  herself, she took her  mother's paintbox down from  the
shelf and, clearing a space for herself, began.

                                   *   *   *

Anna?

"Yes, father?"

What do you sec?

"I see ..."  Anna paused, the  familiar litany broken  momentarily as, shielding
her eyes, she looked out over the dusty plain from the granite outcrop she stood
upon.  She  had been  up  since before  dawn,  mapping the  area,  extending her
father's survey of this  dry and forlorn land,  but it was late  morning now and
the heat had become oppressive. She  could feel it burning through the  hood she
wore.

She looked down, murmuring her answer. "I see stone and dust and ashes."

It was  how he  had taught  her. Question  and answer,  all day  and every  day;
forcing her to look, to focus on what was in front other. Yes, and to make those
fine distinctions between things that were the basis of all knowledge. But today
she found herself stretched thin. She did not want to focus.

Closing the notebook, she slipped the pencil back into its slot, then  crouched,
stowing the notebook and her father's compass into her knapsack.

A whole week had passed,  and still he had not  risen from his bed. For  several
nights he  had been  delirious, and  she had  knelt beside  him in  the wavering
lamplight, a bowl of precious water at her side as she bathed his brow.

The fever had  eventually broken, but  it had left  theih both exhausted.  For a
whole day she had slept and had woken full of hope, but her father seemed little
better. The  fever had  come and  gone, but  it had  left him hollowed, his face
gaunt, his breathing ragged.

She had tried to feed him and  look after him, but in truth there  seemed little
she could do but wait.  And when waiting became too  much for her, she had  come
out here, to try to do something useful. But her heart was not in it.

The Lodge was not  far away, less than  a mile, in fact,  which was why she  had
chosen that location, but the walk back was tiring under the blazing desert sun.
As  she climbed  up onto  the ridge  overlooking the  Lodge, she  found  herself
suddenly fearful. She had not  meant to be gone so  long. What if he had  needed
her? What if he had called out to her and she had not been there?

She hurried  down the  slope, that  unreasonable fear  growing in  her, becoming
almost a certainty as  she ran across the  narrow bridge and ducked  inside into
the cool darkness.

"Father?"

The pallet bed was empty. She stood in the low doorway, breathing heavily, sweat
beading her brow and neck and tricls-ling down her back. She turned, looking out
through the window at the desert.

What if he'd gone out looking for her?

She hurried  through, anxious  now, then  stopped, hearing  a noise,  off to her
right.

"Father?"

As she entered the workroom, he looked around and smiled at her. He was  sitting
at the long workbench that  ran the full length of  the rooJrt; one of his  big,
leather-bound notebooks open in front of him.

"This is good, Anna," he said  without preamble. "Amanjira will be pleased.  The
yields are high."

She did not answer. Her  relief at seeing him up  and well robbed her of  words.
For a moment she had thought the very worst.

He had the faintest smile  on his lips now, as  if he knew exactly what  she was
thinking. Anna wanted to go across to him and hug him, but she knew that was not
his way.  His love  for her  was distant,  stern, like  an eagle's  love for its
chicks. It was the only way they had survived out here without her mother.

"Anna?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for the painting. How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That those flowers were my favorites."

She smiled, but found she could not say the words aloud. Because my mother  told
me.

                                   *   *   *

He continued to improve the next few days, doing a little more each day,  until,
a week after he'd got up from his bed, he came out from the workroom and  handed
Anna the finished report.

"There," he said. "Take that to Amanjira. It's not precisely what he asked  for,
but he'll welcome it all the same."

She stared at the document, then back at her father. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"You're not strong enough yet. The journey 'would exhaust you."

"Which is why I'm not going. You know  the way. You can manage the cart on  your
own, can't you?"

Anna shook her head.  She could, of course,  but that wasn't what  she meant. "I
can't leave you. Not yet."            ,

He smiled. "Of  course you can.  I can cook.  And I don't  need much water.  Two
pitchers should see me through until you return."

"But..."

"No buts,  Anna. If  Amanjira doesn't  get that  report, we  don't get paid. And
who'll pay the traders then? Besides, there are things we need in Tadjinar. I've
made a list."

Anna stared at him a moment, seeing how determined he was in this. "When do  you
want me to go?"

"This  evening, immediately  after sundown.  You should  reach the  old  volcano
before  dawn.  You  could take  shelter  in  the cleft  there.  Sleep  until the
evening."

It was what they always did, yet in reiterating it like this it almost seemed as
if he were coming with her.

"Aren't you worried?"

"Of course I am," he answered. "But you're a tough one, Anna. I always said  you
were. Just don't let those merchants in Jaarnindu Market cheat you."

She smiled at that. They were always trying to cheat them.

"I'll fill the pitchers, then."

He nodded, and without another word returned inside.

"To Tadjinar, then," she said quietly, looking down at the report in her  hands.
"Let's hope Lord Amanjira is as welcoming as my father thinks he'll be."

                                   *   *   *

Amanjira was in good humor. He beamed a great smile at Anna, gestured toward the
low chair that rested against  the wall on one side  of the great room, then  he
returned to his desk and sat, opening her father's report.

As Amanjira  leaned forward,  his dark  eyes poring  over the  various maps  and
diagrams, Anna took the  chance to look about  her. This was the  first time she
had been inside the  great man's house. Usually  her father came here  while she
stayed at the lodging house in the old town.

The room  was luxuriously  decorated in  white, cream,  reds, and  pinks. Bright
sunlight filled  the room,  flooding in  through a  big, glass-paneled door that
opened  out  onto a  balcony.  There was  a  thick rug  on  the floor  and  silk
tapestries on the wall.  And on the wall  behind Amanjira was a  portrait of the
Emperor, given to him by the Emperor himself.

Everything there spoke of immense wealth.

Anna looked back at  the man himself. Like  herself, Amanjira was a  stranger in
this land, a trader from the east who had settled many years ago. Now he was one
of the most important men in the empire.

Amanjira's skin  was as  dark as  night, so  black it  was almost  blue, yet his
features had  a strangely  Western cast;  a well-fleshed  softness that was very
different from the hawkish look of these desert people.

As if a dove had flown into a nest of falcons.

But looks  deceived sometimes.  This dove  had claws.  Yes, and  a wingspan that
stretched from coast to coast of this dry and sandy land.

Amanjira made a tiny noise-a grunt  of satisfaction- then looked across at  her,
nodding to himself.

"This is excellent. Your father has excelled himself, Anna."

She waited, wondering what  he would say next;  what he would give  her for this
information.

"I shall instruct  the steward to  pay you in  full, Anna. And  tell your father
that, if his findings prove correct, I shall reward him with a bonus."

She lowered her head, surprised. So far as she knew, Amanjira had never  offered
them a bonus before.

"You are too kind, Lord Amanjira."

Anna heard him rise and come across to her. "If you wish," he said softly,  "you
might stay here tonight, Anna. Share a meal, perhaps, before you return home."

She  forced herself  to look  up. His   dark eyes  were looking  at her  with  a
surprising gentleness.

"Forgive me," she said, "but I must get back. My father is not well."

It was  not entirely  the truth.  She wanted  to stay  this once and explore the
alleys of the old town, but duty had to come first.

"I understand," he  said, moving back  a little, as  if sensitive to  the sudden
defensiveness in her  attitude. "Is there  anything I can  do for him?  Potions,
perhaps?  Or  special  foods?  Sheep's  brain  is  supposed  to  be   especially
nutritious."

Anna  laughed at  the thought  of her  father eating  sheep's brain,  then  grew
serious again, not  wanting to hurt  Amanjira's feelings. "I thank  you for your
concern. Lord  Amanjira, and  for your  kind offer  of help,  but we have all we
need."

Amanjira smiled, then gave a little bow. "So be it. But if you change your mind,
do not  hesitate to  come to  me, Anna.  Lord Amanjira  does not  forget who his
friends are."

Again the warmth of his sentiments surprised her. She smiled. "I shall tell  him
what the Lord Amanjira said."

"Good. Now hurry along, Anna. I am sure I have kept you far too long."

                                   *   *   *

The journey home  was uneventful. Making  good time, Anna  arrived at the  Lodge
just after dawn. She had been away, in all, seven days.

Leaving the cart in the deep shadow by the ridge, she climbed up onto the bridge
and tiptoed across, meaning to surprise her father, but the Lodge was empty.

Anna  returned to  the doorway  and stood  there, looking  out over  the  silent
desert.

Where would he be? Where?

She knew at once. He would be at the circle.

Leaving  the  cart where  it  was, she  headed  east across  the  narrow valley,
climbing the bare rock until she came out into the early sunlight. It made sense
that he would  go there at  this hour, before  the heat grew  unbearable. If she
knew him, he would be out there now, digging about, turning over rocks.

Her father's illness had driven the circle from her mind for a time, but  coming
back from Tad) mar, she had found herself intrigued by the problem.

It seemed almost supernatural But neither she nor her father believed in  things
that could not be explained. Everything had a rational reason for its existence.

Corning up onto the ridge, Anna saw  her father at once, in the sunlight  on the
far side of the circle, crouched down, examining something. The simple  physical
presence of  him there  reassured her.  Until then  she had  not been  sure, not
absolutely sure, that he was all right.

For a time she stood there, watching him, noting how careful, how methodical  he
was, enjoying the sight of it enormously, as if it were a gift. Then,  conscious
of the sun slowly climbing the sky, she went down and joined him.

"Have you found anything?" she asked,  standing beside him, careful not to  cast
her shadow over the place where he was looking.

He glanced up, the faintest smile on his lips. "Maybe. But not an answer."

It was so typical of him that she laughed.

"So how was Amanjira?" he said,  straightening up and turning to face  her. "Did
he pay us?"

She nodded, then took the heavy  leather pouch from inside her cloak  and handed
it to him. "He was pleased. He said there might be a bonus."

His smile was knowing. "I'm not surprised. I found silver for him."

"Silver!" He hadn't  told her. And  she, expecting nothing  more than the  usual
detailed survey,  had not  even glanced  at the  report she  had handed  over to
Amanjira. "Why didh't you say?"

"It isn't our business. Our business is to survey the rocks, not exploit them."

She nodded at the pouch. "We make our living from the rock."

"An honest day's  pay for an  honest day's work,"  he answered, and  she knew he
meant it. Her father did not believe in taking any more than he needed.  "Enough
to live" was  what he always  said, begrudging no  one the benefit  from what he
did.

"So how are you?" she asked, noting how the color had returned to his face.

"Well," he  answered, his  eyes never  leaving hers.  "I've come  out here every
morning since you left."

She nodded, saying nothing.

"Come," he said suddenly, as if he had just remembered. "I have something I want
to show you."

They went through the gap between two of the converging ridges, then climbed  up
over a shoulder of rock onto a  kind of plateau, a smooth gray slab  that tilted
downward into  the sand,  like a  fallen wall  that has  been half  buried in  a
sandstorm.

Across from  them another,  larger ridge  rose up  out of  the sand,  its eroded
contours  picked out  clearly by  the sun.  The whiteness  of the  rock and  the
blackness of its shadowed irregularities gave it the look of carved ivory.

There," he said, pointing to one of the larger patches of darkness near the foot
of the ridge.

"A cave?" she asked, intrigued.

"A tunnel."

"Where does it lead?"

"Come and see."

They went down, crossing the hot sand, then ducked inside the shadowed  entrance
to the tunnel. They stopped a moment, letting their eyes grow accustomed to  the
darkness after the brilliant sunlight  outside, then turned, facing the  tunnel.
Anna waited as her father lit the lamp, then held it up.

"Oh!"

The tunnel ran smoothly  into the cock for  fifteen, twenty paces, but  that was
it. Beyond that it was blocked by rock fall.

Undaunted, her father walked toward  it, the lamplight wavering before  him. She
followed, examining the walls as she went.

"It looks lavatic," she said.

"It is," he answered,  stopping before the great  fall of rock. "And  I'd say it
runs on deep into the earth. Or would, if this rock wasn't in the way."

Anna crouched and examined a small chunk of the rock. One side of it was  smooth
and glassy-the  same material  <s the  walls. "How  recent was  this fall?"  she
asked.

"I can only guess."

She looked up at him. "I don't follow you."

"When I found  no answers here,  I began to  look a bit  wider afield. And guess
what I found?"

She shrugged.

"Signs of a  quake, or at  least of massive  earth settlement, just  a few miles
north of here. Recent,  I'd say, from the  way the rock was  disturbed. And that
got me thinking. There was a major quake in this region thirty years back.  Even
Tadjmar was affected, though mildly. It might explain our circle."

"You think so?"

"I'd say that the  quake, the rockfall here,  and the circle are  all connected.
How, exactly, I don't yet  know. But as I've always  said to you, we don't  know
everything. But we might extend our knowledge of the earth, if we can get to the
bottom of this."

She smiled. "And the surveys?"

He waved that away. "We can do the  surveys. They're no problem. But this ..  .
this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Anna! If we can find a reason for  the
phenomena, who knows what else will follow?"

"So what do you suggest?"

He gestured toward the fallen rock. "I  suggest we find out what's on the  other
side of that."

                                   *   *   *

After they had eaten, Anna unpacked the  cart. She had bought him a gift  in the
Jaarnindu Market. As she watched him unwrap it, she thought of all the gifts  he
had bought her over the years,  some practical-her first tiny rock hammer,  when
she was  six-and some  fanciful-the three  yards of  bright blue silk, decorated
with yellow and red butterflies that he had brought back only last year.

He stared at the leather case a  moment, then flicked the catch open and  pushed
the lid back.

"A chess set!" he exclaimed, a look of pure delight light ing his features. "How
IWmissed playing chess!" He looked to her. "How did you know?"

Anna looked down, abashed. "It was something you said. In your sleep."

"When I was ill, you mean?"

She nodded.

He stared at the chessboard lovingly. The pieces-hand-carved wood, stained black
and white-sat in their niches in two tiny wooden boxes.

It was not a luxury  item by any means. The  carving was crude and the  staining
basic, yet  that did  not matter.  This, to  him, was  far finer than any object
carved from silver.

"I shall begin to teach you," he said, looking up at her. "Tonight. We'll  spend
an hour each night, playing. You'll soon get the hang of it!"

Anna smiled. It was just as she'd thought. Gifts, she recalled him saying, ann't
frivolous things,  they're very  necessary. They're  demonstrations of  love and
affection, and their  "excess" makes life  more than mere  drudgery. You can  do
without many things, Anna, hut  not gifts, however small and  insignificant they
might seem.

So it was. She understood it much better these days.

"So how are we to do it?"

He looked to her, understanding at once what she meant. Taking one of his  stone
hammers from the belt at his waist he held it up. "We use these."

"But it'll take ages!"

"We have ages."

"But..."

"No buts, Anna. You mustn't be impatient. We'll do a little at a time. That  way
there'll be no accidents, all rtght?"

She smiled and gave a single nod. "All right."

"Good. Now let me rest. I must be fresh if I'm to play chess with you tonight!"

                                   *   *   *

In the days that followed, their lives  fell into a new routine. An hour  before
dawn they would rise and go out to the tunnel, and spend an hour or two chipping
away at  the rockfall.  Anna did  most of  this work,  loathe to  let her father
exhaust himself so soon after his illness, while he continued his survey of  the
surrounding area. Then, as the sun began to climb the desert sky, they went back
to the Lodge and, after a light meal, began work in the laboratory.

There were samples on the shelves from years back that they had not had time  to
properly analyze, and her father decided that, rather than set off on another of
their expeditions,  they would  catch up  on this  work and  send the results to
Amanjira.

Late afternoon, they  would break off  and take a  late rest, waking  as the sun
went down and the air grew slowly cooler.

They would eat a meal, then settle in  the main room at the center of the  Lodge
to read or play chess.

Anna was not sure that she liked  the game at first, but soon she  found herself
sharing her father's  enthusiasm-if not his  skill-and had to  stop herself from
playing too long into the night.

When finally he did sctire, Anna stayed up an hour or so afterward, returning to
the workroom to plan out the next stage of the survey.

No matter what her father claimed, she knew Amanjira would not be satisfied with
the  results of  sample analyses  for long.  He paid  her father  to survey  the
desert, and it  was those surveys  he was interested  in, not rock  analysis-not
unless those analyses could be transformed somehow into vast riches.

In the last year they had surveyed  a large stretch of land to the  southwest of
the Lodge, three days' walk away in the very heart of the desert. To survive  at
all out  there they  needed to  plan their  expeditions well.  They had  to know
exactly where  they could  find shelter  and what  they would  need to take. All
their food, water, and equipment had to be hauled out there on the cart, and  as
they were  often out  there eight  or ten  days, they  had to make provision for
sixteen full days.

It was not easy, but to be  truthful, she would not have wanted any  other life.
Amanjira might not  pay them their  true worth, but  neither she nor  her father
would have wanted any other job.

She loved the rock and its ways almost as much as she loved the desert. Some saw
the rock as dead, inert,  but she knew otherwise. It  was as alive as any  other
thing. It was merely that its perception of time was slow.

On the eighth day, quite early, they made the breakthrough they had been  hoping
for. It was not much-barely an armhole in the great pile of rock-yet they  could
shine a light through to  the other side and see  that the tunnel ran on  beyond
the fall.

That sight encouraged them. They worked  an ext'ra hour before going back,  side
by side at the rock face, chipping away at it, wearing their face masks to avoid
getting splinters in their eyes.

"What do you think?"  he said on the  walk back. "Do you  think we might make  a
hole big enough to squeeze through, then investigate the other side?"

Anna grinned. "Now who's impatient?"

"You think we should clear more of it, then?"

"I don't know," she answered, walking on. "I think we should think about it."

That afternoon, in  the workshop, he  talked about it  constantly and, come  the
evening, rather than debate it further, she gave in.

"All right," she said, looking up from her side of the chessboard. "But only one
of us goes through  at a time. And  we use a rope.  We don't know what's  on the
other side. If there's more quake damage it might be dangerous."

"Agreed,"  he  said,  moving  his  Queen.  "Check."  Then,  smiling  up  at her.
"Checkmate, in fact."

                                   *   *   *

It took them two more days to make  the gap wide enough. It would be a  squeeze,
but to  make it  any bigger  would have  meant another  week's work  at the very
least.

"We'll prepare  things tonight,"  he said,  holding his  lamp up  to the gap and
.staring through. "You won't need much."

Anna smiled at that 'you.' She had thought she might have to fight him over  it.
"So what am I looking for?"

He drew  the lamp  back and  turned to  face her.  "Anything unusual. A volcanic
funnel, perhaps. Vents. Any pyroclastic deposits."

"You still think this is part of a larger volcanic system?"

"Almost certainly. These vents  and boreholes are only  part of it. There  would
have been a great  basin of lava-of magma-deep  down in the earth.  In fact, the
deeper it was, the wider spread these surface manifestations will be. The  super
heated lava would have found all  of the weakest routes through the  rock, fault
lines and the like. That's all this is, really."

"Like the roots of a tree?"

He nodded,  smiling faintly  at her.  Anna had  never seen  a tree. Not a proper
tree, anyway. Only the shallow-rooted palms  of Tadjinar. Most of what she  knew
of the world had come out of books, or had been told to her. That was the  worst
of living here-the narrowness of it.

Walking back with her, he raised the subject, the two of them speaking, as  they
always did, with their heads down, not even glancing at each other.

"Anna?"

"Yes?"

"Do you regret living here?"

"Do you?"

"I chose it."

"And you think if I had a choice, I'd chose differently?"

"Sometimes."

"Then you're wrong. I love the desert."

"But you don't know anything else."

"I'd still want to be here."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

                                   *   *   *

"Mind the rope, Anna, it's getting snagged."

Anna paused, edging  slightly to one  side, then tugged  gently at the  rope. It
came free.  She was  halfway through  the gap  in the  rockfall and finding it a
tighter squeeze  than she'd  imagined. She  had managed  to shrug  her shoulders
through the narrow hole, but her hips were another matter altogether. Nor  could
she see anything  properly. The tiny  slivers of light  that peeped through  the
narrow gaps between her and the wall served more to emphasize how stuck she  was
than help her.

She could always try and heave  herself through, of course, but then  she'd most
likely tumble down onto the  floor on the other side,  and it was quite a  drop.
Besides, only her left arm was free; the other was still wedged between her  and
the wall.

"Turn yourself about, Anna. Until you're facing the ceiling. The channel's wider
than it's tall."

"We should have waited another week," she said, trying to do what he said.

"Maybe. But you're almost there now. Try and edge back a little. Yes ... that's
it."

Slowly, very slowly, she  wriggled her way back,  until she could feel  that her
head and shoulders were out over the gap.  Now she had to try and free her  arm.
She tried to bring it up, but there wasn't room. She'd have to turn again.

"Hold my feet," she said.

Anna felt his hands grip the ankles of her boots firmly.

"Good. I'm going to try to turn onto my front now. At the same time I'm going to
try to free my right arm."

"All right."

It was difficult.  It felt as  if the rock  was trying to  crush her-to pop  her
bones-but slowly she managed to turn herself, until she was facing the floor.

Anna could not see  anything. The darkness in  front other seemed absolute.  Not
that the  darkness itself  worried her;  she simply  did not  want to  fall onto
anything sharp.

"All right," she said, as she finally freed her arm. "Now lower me slowly."

The rock seemed to come up to  touch her hands. Above her, light slowly  spilled
into the tunnel.

"That's it," she said. "Slowly now."

She began to take her own weight, reaching forward slightly with her hands.

"All right. You can let go now. I'm down,"

Anna felt his fingers relent, his  hands move back, away from her  ankles. There
was a faint noise from him, a grunt.

She scrambled up, then turned, brushing herself down. "Are you okay?"

He made a small noise of assent. "Just winded a little, just give me a moment to
get my breath."

Anna went to the hole and looked back through. The lamp was on the floor by  his
feet where  he had  left it.  He himself  was leaning  against the wall, slumped
slightly, one hand on his chest.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

He nodded and looked up  at her. "I'll be okay.  I didn't realize how heavy  you
are, that's all."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. Now  get on.  Tie the  rope about  your waist.  I'll pass  you through the
lamp."

She stooped and picked up the rope, fastening it tightly about her waist. It was
a thin, strong rope, and they had  some five hundred feet of it. That  should be
plenty  for this  preliminary exploration.  Satisfied, she  turned and,  leaning
through the gap, took the lamp from him.

"This, too," he said, handing her his protective hat.

She put the lamp  down, then tried on  the hat, expecting it  to be too big  for
her, but it was  a perfect fit. She  fastened the leather strap  under her chin"
then turned, lifting the lamp so that he could see her.

"Good," he said, his eyes shining in the lamplight. "I'll give you an hour, then
I'll call you back. But keep your eyes open, Anna. And don't take chances."

"I won't."

"You've got the notebook?"

Anna patted her top pocket.

"All right. Then get going. It's cold here."

She smiled then turned, facing the darkness, the lamp held up before her.

                                   *   *   *

The library overlooke4  the darkened lake,  its long, latticed  windows giving a
distant view ofD'ni, the  city's lamplit levels climbing  the great wall of  the
cavern.

A fire had  been lit in  the great fireplace.  In its flickering  light four men
could be seen, sitting in huge armchairs about the fire, their faces thrown into
sharp contrasts of gold and black. They  had eaten an hour ago, now, as  it grew
late, they talked.

"I don't  know how  you can  say that,  Veovis. Not  with any certainty, anyway.
Where's your proof?"

Veovis turned to face his friend, his wineglass cradled in both hands, the light
from the fire winking at its ruby heart.

"But that's just it, Fihar. I need no proof. The matter is axiomatic. You  argue
that those races we  have knowledge of, on  those Ages to which  we have linked,
behave morally. I agree. But they do so because we have made it our business  to
encourage them to do so. Their morality  is not innate, but taught. And we,  the
D'ni, were the ones who taught it  to them. So much we have known  for thousands
of years."

Veovis turned slightly, looking  to another of them.  "You, Suahrnir. You are  a
Mamtamer. Is it not so? Is it not one of your prime duties to encourage a stable
and moral social framework among the natives of the worlds to which we link?"

Suahrnir was  in his  middle years  and a  senior member  of his  guild. He  had
already served  as Keeper  of the  Prison Ages  and was  currently in  charge of
disposing of all failed or unstable  Ages. He pondered Veovis's words a  moment,
then shrugged.

"It is, yet even so I have  some sympathy with Fihar's view. We cannot  say with
certainty until  we have  seen for  ourselves. That,  surely, is  the scientific
method?"

"Nonsense!" Veovis said, leaning  forward, his face suddenly  animated. "Without
D'ni influence and D'ni guidance, those Ages would, without a shred of doubt, be
nasty little backwaters,  peopled by savages!  Have you not  instances enough in
your  own  experience, Suahrnir.  of  such backsliding?  Do  we not  need  to be
constantly vigilant?"

"We do," Suahrnir agreed.

"Imagine then, up there on the surface. If there an people living up there, then
they have developed now for  several thousand years without any  moral guidance.
They will, most certainly, be savages, little more than animals, subservient  to
their most  basic needs.  And we  have seen,  all of  us on  many Ages, how wild
animals behave!"

Aitrus, who had been listening silently,  now spoke up. "Unless, like the  D'ni,
they have an innate morality."

Veovis smiled and turned  to his friend. "I  would say that the  chances of that
were exceedingly small, wouldn't you agree, Aitrus?"

"I... guess so."

"There!" Veovis said, as  if that capped it.  "You know, it makes  me shudder to
think of it. A whole society governed by lust and violence!"

"And the  threat of  violence," Fihar  added, clearly  half-convinced now by the
argument.

"Exactly! And where, in such a society, would there be room for the  development
of true intelligence? No. The most we might expect from the surface-dwellers  is
a surly, grunting species, a pack of  jackals who would as soon bay at  the moon
as hold a decent conversation!"

There was laughter, at that.

"Then  you think  the Council  should reaffirm  their decision?"  Aitrus  asked,
returning the  conversation to  the place  where it  had begun.  "You believe we
should have nothing to do with the surface-dwellers?"

"I do indeed," Veovis said emphatically. "And to be honest with you, I would not
have simply sealed the end of the tunnel, I would have destroyed the whole thing
altogether!"

"I see."

"Oh,  Aitrus," Veovis  said, leaning  toward him.  "I realize  what  sentimental
feelings you  have toward  that expedition,  and I  admire you  for it,  but the
venture was a mistake. The Council were wrong even to consider it!"

Aitrus said nothing. He merely sipped fais wine and stared into the fire.

"And now I've  hurt your feelings."  Veovis stood. "Look,  I apologize. It  was,
perhaps, insensitive of me."

Aitrus looked up at him, smiling sadly. "No, Veovis. You spoke as you saw, and I
admire you  for that.  Besides, I  have come  to feel  that maybe you were right
after all. Maybe it was a mistake."

Veovis smiled back at him. "Then you will vote with me in Council this rime?"

Aitrus shrugged. "Who knows?"

                                   *   *   *

Less than a hundred paces down, the tunnel was blocked again, a second  rockfall
making it unpassable. Yet  to the left of  the fall, like a  grnning dark mouth,
was a  crack in  the tunnel  wall, large  enough for  Anna to  step into, if she
wished.

Anna stood  on the  rim, her  left hand  holding the  edge of  the wall, and she
leaned into it, the lamp held out.

The crack  was deep.  Its floor  went down  steeply into  the dark, from which a
faint,  cold breeze  emanated. She  could hear  the sound  of water,  muted  and
distant, far below, and something else-a kind of irregular knocking. A tap, tap,
tap that was like the weak blow of a chisel against the rock.

Anna turned, looking back  the way she had  come, then, deciding that  the slope
was not too steep, she  clipped the lamp to the  top other hard hat and  stepped
down, steadying herself against the walls with both hands and digging her  heels
in. so that she Would not fall.

The crack was not as teng as she'd imagined. After twenty paces it leveled  out.
For a moment  she thought it  was a dead  end, for the  rock seemed to  fill the
crack ahead other, but just before that it twisted to the side again, almost  at
ninety degrees. As she turned that corner, she gave a little cry of surprise.

"It's a cavern!" she  yelled, not knowing whether  he could hear her  or not. "A
huge cavern!"

That tapping noise was close now and the sound of flowing water much stronger.

Stepping out onto the floor of  the cavern, Anna turned, looking about  her. The
tamp illuminated only a small part of  space, yet she could see, at the  edge of
the light, what looked like a tiny stream, its surface winking back at her.

Water. The most precious thing of all here in the desert. More precious than the
silver her father had found for Amanjira.

Anna walked  over to  it, conscious  of the  rope trailing  out behind  her. The
stream was crystal clear. She stooped down beside it, dipping her hand into  the
flow, then put her fingers to her lips.

Ice cold, it was, and pure. Much better than the water in the pool.

She grinned, looking forward  to telling her father  of her discovery, then  she
turned and looked up at the ceiling, twenty yards or so overhead.

There it  was! The  source of  the tapping  noise. It  looked like  a bright red
hanging of some kind, marble smooth yet thin, the tip of it swollen like a  drop
of blood. And where it hung in the breeze it tap-tap-tapped against the roof  of
the cavern.

Anna frowned,  then crimed,  looking for  the source  of the  breeze. The cavern
narrowed at its near end, becoming a  kind of funnel. The breeze seemed to  come
from there.

She sniffed the air, surprised by how  fresh it was. Usually there was a  stale,
musty smell in these caverns. A smell of damp and stone. But this was different.

Unclipping the lamp again, she held it up, trying to make out what the red stuff
was. It seemed to be trapped in  the rock overhead, or to have squeezed  through
the rock and then congealed.

She took out her notebook; settling it  on her knee, she began to write,  noting
down not merely what she could see but her first notions about the cavern. Such,
she knew from experience, could prove important. One might notice something that
one afterward overlooked, or simply forgot. It was best to jot down  everything,
even if most of it proved subsequently to be ill-founded.

Putting the notebook away, she took hold  of the rope and pulled a length  of it
toward  her, making  sure it  was not  snagged in  the crack.  It came   easily.
Reassured,  she  walked  on, toward  the  near  end of  the  cavern,  toward the
"funnel," glancing from side to side, keen not to miss anything.

Thirty paces from it,  she stopped, the slight  sense of wrongness she  had felt
earlier now welling up in her.

There, facing her, filling  the whole of one  end of the narrowed  cavern, was a
huge sheet of the red stuff. It looked like a thick, stiff curtain, except  that
it jutted from the rock like a lava flow.

But it wasn't lava. Not of any kind she knew, anyway.

It made her think  of the circle on  the surface. Somehow these  two things were
connected, but just how she dicing know.

She could not wait to tell her father of it.

Anna walked over and  stood before it, lifting  the lamp. It was  blood red, but
within that redness was a faint vein of black, like tiny worm-threads.

Perhaps it was a kind of lava.

Clipping the lamp to her  hat again, she took one  of the hammers from her  belt
and, kneeling beside the wall, tried to chip a small chunk of the stuff away.

After a moment she  looked up, puzzled. The  hammer had made no  impression. The
stuff looked  soft and  felt soft.  Itgave before  the hammer.  But it would not
chip. Why, it wouldn't even mark!

Not lava,  then. But  what precisely  was it?  Unless she  could get a piece for
analysis, there was no way of telling.

Anna stood back  a couple of  paces, studying the  wall, trying to  see if there
might not, perhaps, be a small piece jutting from the rest that would prove more
amenable to the hammer, but the stuff formed a smooth unvarying surface.

She turned, looking about her, then  laughed. There, only a few paces  from her,
lay a line of tiny red beads, like fresh blood spots on the gray rock floor. She
looked up, seeing how the red stuff formed a narrow vein overhead, as if,  under
great pressure, it had been squeezed between the lips of the rock.

And dripped.

Anna crouched  and, chipping  this time  into the  rock beneath  the red  stuff,
managed to free four samples of it, the largest of them the size other fist.

As she went to slip  the last of them into  her knapsack, she turned it  beneath
the  light,  then  squeezed  it  in her  hand.  It  was  almost  spongy, yet  it
was,t6ugher than marble. Not only that,  but it seemed to hold the  light rather
than reflect it.

It  was  time  to  get  back.  They  would  need  to  analyze  this  before they
investigated any further.

Anna slipped  the sack  onto her  shoulder, then,  taking the  rope in her right
hand, began to cross the cavern again,  coiling it slowly as she headed for  the
crack.

                                   *   *   *

The others were gone. Only Veovis  and Aitrus remained. They stood in  the broad
hallway of the Mansion, beneath the  stairs, the great stone steps and  the tiny
harbor beyond, visible through the glass of the massive front door.

"Stay the night, Aitrus. You can travel back with me in the morning. The meeting
does not start until midday."

"I would, but there are some people I must see first thing."

"Put  them  off.  Tell  them  you  have  to  prepare  for  the  meeting. They'll
understand. Besides, I'd really like to talk to you some more."

"I, too. But I must not break my word."

Veovis smiled. "I understand. Your word  means much to you, and rightly  so. But
try and come  to me before  the meeting. I  shall be in  my office in  the Guild
Hall. I would feign speak with you again before you cast your vote."

Aitrus smiled. "I have decided already, old friend. I shall abstain."

"Abstain?"

"I feel it would be for the best. I am not convinced by either argument. It  may
be as you say, and that my Hesitancy is only sentiment, yet I still feel as if I
would be betraying Master Telanis should I vote against the motion."

"Then so be it. Take care, dear friend."

The two men clasped each other's hands.

"Until tomorrow."

"Until tomorrow," Aitrus  echoed, smiling broadly.  "And thank you.  The evening
was a most pleasant one."

"As ever. Now go. Before I'm angry with you."

                                   *   *   *

"I've no idea," he said, lifting his eye from the microscope.

"I've never seen anything like it. It looks ... artificial."

"Impossible," Anna said, stepping up beside  him and putting her own eye  to the
lens.

"So  tell me  what it  is, then.  Have you  ever seen  stone with  that kind  of
structure before? There's not a crystal in it! That wasn't formed. At least, not
by any natural process. That was made!"

She shrugged. "Maybe there are processes we don't know about."

"And maybe I know nothing about rock!"

Anna looked up and smiled. "Maybe."

"Well?" he said, after a moment. "Don't you agree?"

"I  don't see  how you  could make  something like  this. The  temperatures  and
pressures you'd need would be phenomenal. Besides, what would the stuff be doing
down there, in the cavern? It makes no sense."

"No..."

She saw the doubt creep back into his face. He looked tired again. They had been
working at this puzzle now for close on ten hours.

"You should rest now," she said. "We'll carry on with this in the morning."

"Yes," he said, but it was clear his  mind was still on the problem. "It has  to
be obvious," he said, after a moment. "Something we've completely overlooked."

But what could they have overlooked? They had been as thorough with their  tests
as  anyone  could  be. Had  they  had  twice the  equipment  and  ten times  the
opportunity to study it,  they would still have  come up with the  same results.
This stuff was strange.

                                   *   *   *

He had  been cheerful  that night.  More cheerful  than he'd  been in quite some
time. He had laughed and joked. And in the morning he was dead.

She had woken, remembering  the dream she'd had  of flowers. Blue flowers,  like
those she had painted for him. Getting up, she had gone through into the  galley
kitchen and set out their bowls and tumblers, staring out of the window briefly,
conscious of how different everything looked in the dawn light. It was only then
that she found him, slumped on the floor beside the workroom bench. She knew  at
once that he was dead, yet it was only when she actually physically touched  him
that it registered on her.

His flesh was cold, like stone.

For a moment she could not turn him over. For ateoment there was a blankness,  a
total blankness  in her  mind. Then  she blinked  and looked  down at him again,
where he lay.

He must  have come  here in  the night.  Unheard by  her. And  here he had died,
silently, without a word to her.

She groaned and closed her eyes, grief overwhelming her.

                                   *   *   *

The front lobby of the great  Guild Hall was in turmoil. Aitrus,  arriving late,
looked  about him,  then, seeing  Veovis to  one side  of the  crowd of   senior
guildsmen, hurried over to him.

"Veovis. What's happening?"

"It is Lord Eneah. He was taken ill in the night."

Lord Eneah  was Lord  Tulla's replacement  as head  of the  Council. Without his
presence, or the appointment of a Deputy, the business of the Council could  not
be carried out.

"Then there will be no vote today."

"Nor for a week or two if the rumors are correct. It seems the Great Lord is  at
death's door."

"Ill tidings, indeed," said Aitrus.

While none of  the D'ni elders  could be considered  jovial in any  way that the
young could recognize. Lord Eneah had maintained a sense of humor well into  his
third century and was  wont to control the  Council by means of  wit rather than
chastisement. If  he were  to die,  the Council  would indeed  lose one of their
finest servants.

"What are we to do.?" Aitrus asked, looking about him at the crowded vestibule.

"Disperse, eventually,"  Veovis answered,  "but not  until our  business here is
done. Now, if you would  excuse me, Aitrus, I woul3  like to take the chance  to
talk to one or two waverers."

Aitrus nodded,  letting Veovis  go. Unlike  Veovis, he  had no  strong political
ambitions, and though he had been  appointed to the Council young-as the  junior
representative  of  his  Guild-it  was  not  because  he  had  pushed  for  that
appointment.

He had moved swiftly through the  ranks, becoming a Master in his  thirty-eighth
year-the youngest in  almost seven centuries-and  then, three years  ago, he had
found himself  elected to  the Council  by his  fellow guildsmen;  an unexpected
honor, for there were  men almost twice his  age, which was fifty  five, who had
been put up as candidates against him.

And so here  he was, at  the very center  of things. And  though his word  meant
little yet,  and his  vote was  but a  tiny weight  on the  great scales of D'ni
government, he was not entirely without  influence, for he was a friend  of Lord
Veovis.

Watching Veovis from  across the pillared  hallway, seeing how  easily the young
Lord moved among his peers, how relaxed he was dealing with the high and  mighty
of D'ni society, Aitrus  found it strange how  close they had grown  since their
reunion thirty  years ago.  If you  had asked  him then  who might have been his
closest friend and  confidant in later  years, he might  have chosen anyone  but
Lord Rakeri's son, but so it was. In the public's eyes they were inseparable.

Inseparable, perhaps, yet very different in their natures.

And maybe that was why it  worked so well, for both'had a  perfect understanding
of who the other was.

Had they  been enemies,  then there  would have  been no  late-night debates, no
agreements to differ, no grudging concessions between them, no final meeting  of
minds, and that would,  in time, have been  a tragedy for the  Council, for many
now recognized that in  the persons ofVeovis and  Aitrus were the seeds  ofD'm's
future.

Their friendship had thus  proved a good omen,  not merely for them  but for the
great D'ni State.

"Aitrus? How are you? How is your father these days?"

Aitrus turned to greet his interrogator, smiling at the old man,  surprised-ever
surprised-to find himself in such high company.

"He is well, Grand Master Yena. Very well, thank you."

                                   *   *   *

All was done. The  cart was packed, her  last farewells made. Anna  stood on the
far side of the bridge, tearful now that the moment had come, looking back  into
the empty Lodge.

This had been  her home, her  universe. She had  been born here  and learned her
lessons in these  i-ooms. Here she  had been loved  by the best  two parents any
child could have wished for. And now they were gone.

What remained was stone. Stone and dust and ashes.

Those ashes-her father's-were in a tiny  sealed pot she had stowed carefully  on
the cart, beside another that held her mother's ashes.

She  turned  away, kaowing  she  could not  remain.  Her future  lay  elsewhere.
Tadjinar, perhaps, or maybe  back in Europe. But  not here. Not now  that he was
dead.

Her heart  felt heavy,  but that,  too, she  knew, would  pass. Not totally, for
there would be moments when she  would remember and then the hurt  would return,
yet the grief she now felt would lessen. In time.

She clambered down. The cart was heavy  and Tadjinar was far, yet as she  leaned
forward, taking  the strain,  beginning to  pull it  up the  shallow slope,  the
harness ropes biting into  the leather pads on  her shoulders, she recalled  her
father's words:

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

That much  remained of  him, at  least. The  memories, the  words, and the great
wisdom of the man.

She wiped the wetness from  her cheeks and smiled. He  was in there now, in  her
head, until she, too, was dust or ashes.

What do you see, Anna?

As she climbed the  narrow slope that led  out of the valley,  she answered him,
her voice clear in the desert's stillness.

"I see the  endless desert, and  before me the  desert moon, rising  in the last
light of the dusk. And I see you there, everywhere I look. I see you there."

                                   *   *   *

The way to Tadjinar did not take her past the circle, yet she felt compelled  to
see it. If her future path lay elsewhere, she would at least take the memory  of
it with her.

Leaving the cart hidden  in a narrow gully,  she set off across  the sand toward
the circle,  the full  moon lighttng  her way.  In the  moonlight it seemed more
inexplicable than ever. What on earth could have caused it?

Or what in earth.

Anna crouched at the center of the circle, thinking of what her father had  said
that first time. It was indeed as if the earth beneath had been not just  shaken
but vibrated. And what could do  that? Sound was pure vibration, but  what sound
-what mighty echo in the rock-could possibly account for this?

Perhaps the answer was  in the cavern. Perhaps  it was there and  she had simply
not seen it.

It was  madness even  to think  of exploring  again, especially  alone, yet  the
thought  of  walking  away,  of  never  having  tried  to  find  an  answer, was
impossible. She had to go and look.

In the knapsack on her back she had all she needed. In it were her father's hard
hat, his lamp and tinderbox, the rope. As if she'd known.

Anna smiled. Of course  she'd known. It was  compulsion. The same compulsion  to
know that had driven her father all his life.

And if you find nothing, Anna?

Then she would  know she had  found nothing. And  she would go  to Tadjinar, and
wherever else afterward, and leave this mystery behind her.

The tunnel was dark-a  black mouth in the  silvered face of the  ridge. The very
look of it was daunting. But she  was not afraid. What was there to  fear. after
all?

Anna lit the lamp then walked into the tunnel. The rock fall was where they  had
left it, and the gap.

She studied it a moment, then nodded to herself. She would have to douse the hmp
then push the  knapsack through in  front of her.  It would not  be easy in  the
dark, but she had done it once before.

Taking the hard hat from the sack,  she pulled it on, tying the straps  securely
about her chin, then snuffed the lamp. The sudden darkness was intense.  Stowing
the lamp safely  at the bottom  of the sack,  she pulled the  drawstrings tight,
then pushed it through the gap, hearing it fall with a muffled clatter.

Remembering how  difficult it  had been,  this time  she went  into the gap face
down, her arms out before her. Her problem last time was that she had  misjudged
how wide the gap  was. With her arms  outstretched it was much  easier. The only
problem now was lowering herself on the other side.

Emerging from  the gap,  she let  her hands  feel their  way down  the irregular
surface of the rock face, her feet hooked about the edges of the gap. Then, when
she was confident that the drop  was not too great, she pulled  herself forward,
letting her legs slide into the gap, her head tucked in to her shoulders as  she
rolled.

In the dark, the drop seemed a  lot farther than she remembered it. There  was a
moment's inner panic, and  then she hit the  floor hard, the impact  jolting her
badly.

She lay there a moment, the knapsack wedged uncomfortably in her lower back. Her
wrists ached from the impact and the back of her head and neck felt bruised, but
there seemed to be no serious damage.

Anna sat up, reaching behind her for  the bag, then winced as a sudden  pain ran
up the length  of her left  arm from the  wrist to the  elbow. She drew  the arm
back, then slowly rotated the wrist, flexing her fingers as she did so.

"Stupid," she said, admonishing herself. "That was a very stupid thing to do."

Yes, but she had got away with it.

Only just, a silent voice reminded her.

She turned herself around, organizing herself, taking the lamp from the knapsack
and lighting it.

In its sudden glow, she looked back at the blockage and saw just how far she had
fallen. It was four, almost five feet  in all. She could easily have broken  her
wrists.

She had been lucky.

Clipping the lamp onto the hat, Anna slung the bag over her shoulder then  eased
herself up into a standing position.

She would have one good look around the cavern, and that was it.

And if she found something?

Anna turned, facing the darkness of  the borehole, noticing the faint breeze  in
the tunnel for the first time.

She would decide that if and when. But first she had to look.

                                   *   *   *

To the  left of  the wedge,  on the  shoulder of  that great  flattened mass  of
redness that protruded from  the ordinary rock, was  a gap. Eight feet  wide and
two high, it was like a scowling  mouth, hidden from below by the thick,  smooth
lip of the strange material.

Anna had found it late in her  search, after scouring every inch of the  cavern,
looking for  something that  clearly wasn't  there. Only  this-this made lavatic
rock-was different. Everything  else was exactly  as one would  have expected in
such a cave.

Unclipping the lamp from her hat,  she leaned into that scowling mouth,  holding
it out before her.  Inside, revealed by the  glowing lamp, was a  larger space-a
tiny cave within a cave-its floor made entirely of the red material, its ceiling
of polished black rock, like the rock in the volcanic borehole. Seeing that, she
understood. Whatever it was, it had once been in a molten state, like lava,  and
hsidflowtd into this space, plugging it. Or almost so.

She squeezed through, crawling on her  hands and knees, then stood. The  ceiling
formed a bell above her. She was in a pocket within the rock.

It was like being inside the stomach of some strange animal.

At the far end, the ceiling dipped  again, yet did not entirely meet the  floor.
There was another gap.

Anna walked across, then crouched, holding out the lamp.

The gap extended into the  rock, ending some ten yards  back in a solid wall  of
the red material.

Yet there was a breeze, a definite breeze, coming from the gap. She sniffed.  It
was air. Pure, unscented air.

It had to lead up again, to  the surface. Yet that didn't quite make  sense, for
this did not smell like desert air. She knew the smell of the desert. It left  a
scorched, dry taste in the mouth. This  air was moist, almost sweet in its  lack
of minerals.

And there was something else. The light was wrong.

Dimming the  lamp almost  until it  guttered, she  set it  down behind her, then
looked back. Despite the suddfcn darkness, the wall in front other still glowed.
That glow was faint and strangely dim, as if the light itself was somehow  dark,
yet she was not mistaken.

There was light somewhere up ahead.

Picking up the lamp again, Anna raised the wick until the glow was bright. Then,
getting down on her hands and knees, she crawled into the gap, pushing the  lamp
before her. Sure enough, the red stuff filled the tunnel's end, yet just  before
it, to  the left,  another crack  opened up.  She edged  into it,  following its
curving course  about the  swollen wall  of red  to her  right. That curve ended
abruptly, yet the crack  continued, veering off at  ninety degrees to her  left.
She followed it.

The breeze was  suddenly stronger, the  scent of sweet,  fresh air overpowering.
And there was a noise now, like the hiss of escaping gas.

The crack opened up, like the bell of a flower. To her right the red wall seemed
to melt away. Ahead of her was a cave of some sort.

No, not a cave, for the floor was flat, the walls regular.

She  climbed  up, onto  her  feet, then  held  the lamp  up  high, gasping  with
astonishment at the sight that met her eyes.

                                   *   *   *

Alone in his rooms,  Aitrus pulled off his  boots, then sat down  heavily in his
chair. It was a  typical guild apartment, like  all of those given  to unmarried
Masters. Sparsely furnished, the walls  were of bare, unpolished stone,  covered
here and there  with guild tapestries;  thick woven things  that showed machines
embedded in the rock. Broad shelves  in alcoves covered three ofthe four  walls,
Aitrus's  textbooks-specialist   Guild  works   on  rock   mechanics,  cohesion,
tacheometry, elastic limit, shear strength and permeability, as well as  endless
works on volcanology-filling those shelves.

There were a few volumes of stories, too, including an illustrated volume of the
ancient D'ni tales.  This latter lay  now on the  small table at  Aitrus's side,
where he had left it the previous evening. He picked it up now and stared at the
embossed leather cover a moment, then set it down.

He was  in no  mood for  tales. What  he wanted  was company,  and not the usual
company, but something to lift his spirits. Someone, perhaps.

It seemed not a lot to ask for, yet some days he felt it was impossible.

Aitrus sighed then stood, feeling restless.

Maybe he should take a few days off to visit his family's Age. It was some while
since he had been there and he needed a break. It would be several days at least
before the Council met  again and his work  was up straight. No  one would blame
him for taking a small vacation.

He smiled. Pulling on his boots again, he went over to the door and summoned one
ofthe house stewards. While the man  waited, he scribbled a note, then,  folding
it, handed it to him.

"Give this to Master Telanis."

The steward bowed, then turned and disappeared along the corridor.

Aitrus turned, looking back into the room, then, without further ado, pulled the
door closed behind him.

                                   *   *   *

The cavern, which had  at first glance seemed  small, was in fact  massive. What
Anna had first taken as the whole of it was in fact only a kind of  antechamber.
Beyond it was a  second, larger chamber whose  walls glowed with a  faint, green
light.

And in that chamber, dominating  its echoing central spaces, rested  two massive
machines,  their  dark,  imposing  shapes  threatening  in  the  half-dark  Like
sentinels they stood, their huge limbs raised as if in challenge.

Indeed, it had been a moment or two before she had recognized them for what they
were. Her first irrational thought had been that they were insects of some kind,
for they had that hard, shiny, carapaced look about them. But no insect had ever
grown that large, not even under the blazing desert sun. Besides, these  insects
had no eyes; they had windows.

Anna walked toward them, awed not merely by their size but by the look of  them.
She had seen steam-driven machines in her father's books-massive things of metal
place, bolted together with huge metal studs-but these were very different These
had a smooth, sophisticated look that  was quite alien to anything she  had ever
seen before These were sleek and streamlined, the way animals and insects  were,
as if long generations of trial and error had gone into their design.

There were long flanges running along the sides of the nearest craft and studded
oval indentations. Long  gashes in its  underside-vents of some  kind?-gave it a
strange, almost predatory air.

The closer she got to them, the more in awe she felt, for it was only this close
that she came to realize the scale  on which their makers must have worked.  The
dark flank of the nearest machine, to her left, rose up at least five times  her
height. While the second, tucked back a little, was bigger yet.

She also saw  now just how  different the two  were. As if  each had a  separate
purpose. The nearest was the simpler of the two, its four great limbs ending  in
cone-shaped vents. The other was much more sinister and crablike, its  segmented
body heavily armored.

Standing  beneath the  first of  them, she  reached out  and touched  its  dark,
mirror-smooth surface. It was cool,  rather than cold. Unexpectedly her  fingers
did not slip lightly  over its surface, but  caught, as if they  brushed against
some far rougher, more abrasive material.

Anna frowned and held the lamp close. Instead of reflecting back her image,  the
strange material seemed to hold the  light, to draw it into its  burnished green
-black depths.

Out of the corner of her eye she noted something, down low near the floor of the
right-hand machine. She crouched, reaching out to trace the embossed symbol with
her finger.

Symbol, or letter? Or was it merely decoration?

Whichever, it was not like any written language she had ever seen.

Taking the notebook from her sack, she quickly sketched it, placing the finished
sketch beside the original.

Yes. Just so.

She slipped  the notebook  away, then  lifted the  lamp, turning  slowly to look
about her. As she did, she tried to place the pieces of the puzzle together.

What did she have sp-far? The circle of rock and dust. The strange red "sealing"
material.  This other,  green-black stone,  which gave  off a  dim but  definite
light. And now these machines.

Nothing. Or, at  least, nothing that  made sense. Were  these the remains  of an
ancient race that had  once inhabited these parts?  If so, then why  had nothing
else been unearthed? So  great a race as  this would surely have  left many more
traces of its existence. And why, if these were long-lost relics, did they  look
so new?

She stared up the huge, smooth flank  of the machine toward what seemed to  be a
control room of some  kind. There was a  long, slit window up  there, certainly,
the upper surface  of that window  flush with the  roof of the  craft, the lower
part of it forming part of the craft's nose.

The rope was in her pack. If she  could throw it up over the top of  the machine
and secure  it on  the other  side, perhaps  she could  climb up  there and look
inside?

Anna slipped off her pack and took out the rope. Walking around to the front  of
the machine, she crouched down, holding the lamp out as she studied the chassis.
Some ten, fifteen feet in, there were several small teatlike protuberances  just
beneath what  looked like  an exhaust  vent. She  would tie  the rope  to one of
those.

She walked  back, slowly  uncoiling the  rope in  one hand.  She really needed a
weight of some kind to  tie about the end of  it, but the only suitable  objects
she had were the lamp and the tinderbox, and both were much too valuable to risk
breaking.

Her first throw merely glanced against the side of the machine and fell back  to
the floor. Her second was better but had the same result.

Taking the end of the rope she knotted it time and time again, until there was a
palm-sized fist of rope at the end of it. Satisfied, she tried again.

This  time the  rope sailed  over the  machine, the  lightweight cord  whistling
through the air as it fell to the other side.

Laying her  pack on  the remaining  coil, Anna  walked around  and collected the
other end of it, then got down  and crawled under the machine, winding the  rope
around and around one of the small  protuberances until the thick end of it  was
wedged tightly against the machine.

Edging back, she stood,  then tested the rope,  tugging at it hard,  leaning her
fill weight back on her heels. It held.

So far, so good. But the most difficult part was next, for the rope was far from
secure. If it  were to slip  to the side  as she was  climbing, she could easily
find herself in trouble.

Pulling the rope taut, she placed one booted foot against the hull of the  craft
and leaned back, taking  the strain, feeling the  sudden tension in the  muscles
other calves and upper arms.

She began, leanng slightly to her right  as she climbed, away from the front  of
the strange craft, keeping  the rope taut at  all times, ready at  any moment to
let go and drop  back to the floor  if it were to  start slipping. But the  rope
held, almost as if it were glued in place. Perhaps some quality of the material,
that abrasiveness she  had noticed, helped,  but as she  continued to climb  her
confidence grew.

As she came up  onto the broad back  of the craft, she  relaxed. The top of  the
great slit window was  just in front her  now, some ten or  twetve feet distant.
Beyond it the  nose of the  craft tapered slightly,  then curved steeply  to the
floor.

Getting down onto her hands and  knees, Anna crawled slowly toward the  front of
the craft, until the edge of the window was just in front other. Leaning forward
carefully, she looked down, through the thick, translucent plate, into the cabin
of the craft.

In the oddly muted  light from the oil  lamp, the cabin seemed  strangely eerie,
the wavering shadows threatening.

She frowned, trying to  understand exactly what she  was looking at. There  were
two seats-or, at least, they looked like seats; tubular, skeletal things with  a
kind of netting for the seats-and there was a control panel of some kind just in
front of  that, but  she could  make neither  head nor  tail of the controls, if
controls they were.

The panel itself was black. There were indentations in that blackness, and  more
of the strange symbols, but nothing in the way of levers or buttons, unless such
things were hidden.

Anna eased forward a little, trying to see into the back of the cabin, but there
was only a bulkhead there, not  even a door. Whoever, or whatever,  had operated
this must have entered the cabin through this window.

That sudden thought, that the makers of this machine might have been other  than
human-might have been strange, alien creatures of the rock-sent a tiny ripple of
fear through her. Until that moment her  awe at her discovery had kept her  from
thinking what these machines might mean. But now her mind embraced that thought.

What if those strange webbing seats were designed not for two, but for a  single
creature: one huge, grotesque being,  multilimbed and clawed, like the  machines
it made?

No, she told  herself. Whoever made  this is long  dead and gone.  It only looks
new. But that moment of fear, of vivid imagining, had left its shadow on her.

She edged back slowly, then, taking hold of the rope again, climbed down.

Retrieving  the  rope, Anna  stowed  it away,  then  turned to  face  the second
machine. If the function of the first machine was masked from her, this one  was
self-evident. The great  drills at the  end of each  huge, jointed limb  gave it
away. This was a cutter.

Anna walked over, stopping just in front of it.

A question nagged at her. Why would someone go to such trouble to cut tunnels in
the earth and then seal them? Had they found something down there?

Or was it a tomb?

The thought of a tomb-a royal tomb, surely, for why else go to all this  bother?
-excited her. Maybe she had stumbled onto the burial vault of some great ancient
emperor. If so, then who knew what  was down here? If they could build  machines
like these, then what riches-what curiosities-might lay buried with him?

She  walked  slowly to  the  right, circling  the  machine, her  eyes  going up,
searching its massive flanks, taking in  every aspect of its brutal yet  elegant
form. It had the look of a living thing: of something that had been bred in  the
depths of  the rock.  Here and  there the  material of  which it was made seemed
folded in upon  itself, like the  wing-casing of an  insect. Yet if  it had been
based on any insect that existed, it was of a strange, muscular, hydraulic kind.
And  there were  blisters-large swellings  on the  hull, two  or three  feet  in
length-that had no apparent purpose.

Anna stopped. Just beyond the machine, low in the great wall of the chamber, was
a hole: a perfect circle of  blackness in the green-black material of  the wall.
She walked  another few  paces. Just  beyond the  first hole  was another, and a
third. Tunnels. Undoubtedly tunnels.

But leading where?

Her heart pounding, she went over to  the first of them. It was a  small tunnel,
barely large enough to walk within, but made, not natural. The same  green-black
stone lined the walls. It went down, into darkness.

The second tunnel was the same. The third, to her surprise, was not a tunnel  at
all, but a storeroom of some kind. Broad, empty shelves lined both sides of that
excavated space.

Anna stepped out then looked across.

So which was it to be? The first tunnel or the second?

Neither, she decided. Or  not now, anyway. Not  without first preparing for  the
journey. That was the proper way of  going about things: the way her father  had
taught her.

But that would mean squeezing through the tiny gap in the rock fall once  again,
then walking  across the  desert to  where the  cart was  hidden. That last part
alone was a two-hour journey, which was  fine in the moonlight, but would be  an
ordeal under the desert sun.

And for what? She wasn't going to go that far in. She only wanted to see if they
led anywhere.

Five hundred paces. That was all she would allow herself. And if it did not look
to be leading anywhere, she would come straight back.

Okay. But which?

Without  making a  conscious decision,  her feet  led her  into the   right-hand
tunnel.

Ont, two, three, she  counted, her left hand  steadying her against the  wall as
she began the steady descent. Siven, eight, nine.

Five hundred. It wasn't far.

Ahead of her the  darkness stretched away, running  deep into the rock,  forever
just beyond the bright reach other lamp.

Eighty-two, eighty-three, eighty-four ...

                                   *   *   *

Having traveled  much farther  than her  planned five  hundred paces, Anna found
that she was lost. She  did not want to admit  it to herself, but she  was lost.
After that last left-hand turn she had  doubled back, but she had come out  in a
place she hadn't been  before. Or, at least,  she couldn't remember having  been
there. It was a kind of cavern, only it was small and perfectly spherical.

She had lost count an  hour ago. Two hours, maybe.  Who knew down here? All  she
knew was that the map she had been  following in her head had let her down.  She
had made one wrong turn and everything had seemed to slip away.

It was a labyrinth-a  perfect maze of interlinked  tunnels, all of which  looked
the same and seemed to lead ... nowhere.

A tomb. It had to be a tomb. And this was part of it, this maze in which she was
now inextricably lost.

She would die down here, she was certain of it now.

The thought made her stop  and put her hand  out to steady herself.  Her head was
pounding.

Think, Anna. Think what you're doing.

Anna looked up. The voice was clear in her head, almost as if he had spoken.

"I can't think," she answered. "I'm frightened."

Fear's the enemy of thought. Think, Anna. Consider what you ought to do.

She let  her head  clear, let  the fear  drain from  her mind.  Slowly her pulse
normalized. She took one of the hammers from her belt and held it up.

"I need to mark my way."

Slipping  the  hammer back  into  its holster,  she  slipped the  pack  from her
shoulder and took out the notebook.

"I'll make a map."

It was what she  should have done to  begin with, but it  was too late now.  The
best she could do now  was to slowly chart her  way back to that first  straight
tunnel, before the way had branched. How long that would take she did not  know,
but if she  was methodical, if  she marked each  tunnel wall, each  branch of it
with a letter and a number, then maybe, after a while, she would see the pattern
of it on the page.

It was a slender chance, but her best.

Anna turned,  looking about  her. The  tunnel sloped  down. Just  beyond her  it
forked. She walked across and, slipping her notebook into her tunic pocket, took
the hammer and chisel from her belt.

The first blow was solid-she could feel the way the hammer hit the handle of the
chisel  squarely and  firmly-but the  wall was  unmarked. She  stared at  it  in
astonishment, then repeated the blow. Nothing.  There was not even a scratch  on
the green-black surface.

It was just as before, when she had tried to take the sample.

Anna groaned. It had been her only hope. Now she really was lost.

Paper wraps stone. So use paper. Squares of paper.

Of course!  She could  tear pages  from her  notebook and  leave tiny squares of
paper on the floor beside each entrance. It would have exactly the same  effect.
At once she tore a page from the  book and tore it in half, then in  half again.
Four pieces.  It wasn't  enough. She'd  soon work  her way  through her stock of
paper. She would have to leave much smaller pieces. She tore them in half again,
and then a fourth time.

There. That should do it. She had about fifty pages-that ought to be enough.

Crouching, she began to write on them-A1 to A16. She would allocate two pages to
each letter, and then  move on to the  next. That way she  would hopefully chart
"areas" of the labyrinth. And if she came back to one of them, say C, she  would
know exactly where she was on her map,  and be able to turn away in a  different
direction, until she knew exactly how it all fit together.

Anna looked up, smiling grimly. She wasn't beaten yet.

                                   *   *   *

The Guild House was in the oldest  part of town, surrounded by the halls  of all
the major guilds.  From its steps  one could look  out over the  great sprawl of
D'ni to the harbor and the great arch named after the legendary prince Kerath.

Turning from the  steps through a  row of fluted  marble pillars, one  entered a
massive vestibule  of irregular  shape. Here,  set into  the floor,  was a great
mosaic map of the  main cavern of D'ni,  while the floors of  the smaller rooms,
leading directly off the vestibule, displayed similar mosaic maps of the  lesser
caverns.

The ceiling of the vestibule was not high-barely twice the height of a  standing
man-yet it had a  pleasant look to it.  Great arching beams of  pale mauve stone
thrust out from the walls on every side, thinning to a lacelike delicacy as they
met overhead.

On the  right-hand side  of the  main room  was a  great arched door. The carved
stone fanned about the doorway had the look of trees, forming a natural arch  in
some woodland glade. Beyond it was the great Council chamber.

It had long been a standing joke that the D'ni would never excavate to the  east
of the main cavern, lest they had to redesign the Guild House, but the truth was
that the  rock to  the east  was home  to a  stable reservoir  of magma,  slowly
cooling over the millennia, from which they had long tapped energy.

Stepping through  the massively  hinged doors-each  door. a  great slab of stone
three feet  thick and  ten high-one  entered the  most impressive of D'ni's many
chambers.  The great  dome of  the ceiling  seemed far  overhead, eighteen  huge
pillars reaching up  like massive arms  to support it.  Broad steps, which  also
served as seats, led down into a  circular pit, in the midst of which  were five
huge basalt thrones.

The  great shields  of the  guilds hung  on the  outet walls,  along with  their
ancient banners.

Today the  thrones were  occupied, the  great steps  filled with seated members,
here  to debate  whether the  edict banning  contact with  the "outsiders,"  the
"surface-dwellers" as they were otherwise known, should be lifted.

For six hours they had sat, listening to the arguments for and against, but  now
the debate was finally  coming to a close.  The young Lord Veovis  was speaking,
standing at his place on the  second steps, just before the thrones,  summing up
the case  for maintaining  things as  they were,  his confident eloquence making
many of the older members nod their heads and smile.

As Veovis sat, there was the sound  of fists drumming on the stone-the D'ni  way
of signaling  approval. He  looked about  him, smiling  modestly, accepting  the
silent looks of praise.

Across from him, just  behind the thrones and  to the right, some  six steps up,
Aitrus looked  on, concerned  now that  the time  had almost  come. Veovis still
thought he was going to abstain. Indeed,  he was counting on it, for the  matter
was so finely poised that a vote or  two might well decide it. But he could  not
abstain, and though he knew it might well damage their friendship, he had to  do
what he believed was right.

But knowing that made it no easier.

There was  a brief  murmur in  the chamber,  and then  Lord Eneah  slowly raised
himself  up  out  of  his throne,  his  frail  figure  commanding the  immediate
attention of all. Silence fell.

Lord Eneah had been gravely ill, and his voice now as he spoke seemed  fatigued,
yet there was still a strength behind it.

"We have heard the  arguments, Guildsmen, and many  among you will have  already
decided what  you think.  Yet this  is a  grave matter,  and before  we take the
irrevocable step of a  vote, I feel there  should be the opportunity  for a more
informal debate of the matters raised. We  shall come to a vote in an  hour, but
first we shall adjourn this sitting and retire to the vestibule."

If some were disappointed by this, they did not show it, while others nodded, as
if the decision were wisdom itself. The D'ni were a patient race, after all, and
many matters  that might  have been  decided "hastily"  in the  chamber had been
resolved in the more informal atmosphere of the vestibule.

The remaining Lords rose to their feet and made their way out, followed a moment
later by the other members of the great Council.

If the  great chamber  had been  all solemnity  and dignity,  the vestibule  was
buzzing with talk, as members went  from group to group, attempting to  persuade
others to their cause.

Rarely in recent years had a single  issue raised so much heat and passion,  and
now that a vote was but an hour  off, both camps made great efforts to win  last
-minute converts to their causes.

Aitrus, who had drifted into the vestibule alone, stood beneath the great arch a
moment, looking across  to where Veovis  stood beside Lord  Eneah, who sat  in a
chair that  had been  brought out  especially for  him. Veovis  was addressing a
small crowd  of elder  members, undaunted  by the  fact that  many there  were a
century or two older than he. Such confidence impressed Aitrus, and he knew  for
certain that Veovis  would one day  sit where Lord  Eneah had sat  today, in the
central throne.

It was not the right time, not just now, when Veovis was among such company, yet
he would have to speak  to him, to tell him  of his change of mind,  before they
returned to the great chamber.

Aitrus made his way across, smiling and greeting other guildsmen as he went. Yet
he was barely halfway  across when he noticed  a disturbance on the  far side of
the vestibule.

He craned his neck,  trying to see. The  door guards were arguing  with someone.
Then, abruptly, it seemed,  they stood back, allowing  the newcomer to pass.  It
was a senior guildsman from the Guild  of Messengers. In one hand he clutched  a
sealed letter.

As the Council members began to  realize that there was an intruder  among them,
the noise in the vestibule slowly  died. Heads turned. Guildsmen turned to  face
the newcomer as  he made his  way between them,  heading directly to  where Lord
Eneah sat.

The vestibule  and chamber  were normally  sacrosanct. To  permit a Messenger to
enter while they were in session was almost unheard of. This had to be a  matter
of the greatest urgency.

By the time the Messenger Stepped out before Lord Eneah, a complete silence  had
fallen over the vestibule. Kneeling, the man bowed his head and held the  letter
out.

At a gesture  from Lord Eneah,  Veovis took the  letter and, breaking  the seal,
handed it to the  elder. Eneah slowly unfolded  the single sheet, then,  lifting
his chin and peering at it, began to read. After a moment be looked up, a  faint
bemusement in his eyes.

"Guildsmen," he said, "it appears the decision  has been made for us. We have  a
visitor. An outsider from the surface."

There  was  a moment's  stunned  silence, followed  by  a sudden  uproar  in the
chamber.




PART THREE
FAULT LINES

For the rest of that day the high council-the five Great Lords and the  eighteen
Grand Masters-sat in special session to decide what should be done.

While  they  were meeting,  rumors  swept the  great  city in  the  cavern. Many
concerned the nature of the  intruder, speculating upon what manner  of creature
had been  taken by  the Mamtainers.  While most  agreed that  it was humanoid in
form, some claimed it was a cross  between a bear and an ape. Other  rumors were
wilder yet. One such tale had  it that a whole tribe of  outsiders-heavily armed
savages, intent on trouble-had come far down the tunnels, trying to force  entry
into D'ni, and that it had taken the whole garrison ofMaintainers, backed up  by
the City Guard, to fight them off.

Such "news," Aitrus was certain, was completely unfounded, yet in the absence of
hard fact even he  found himself caught up  in the games of  speculation-so much
so, that as evening fell and the  lake waters dimmed, he left his rooms  and set
out through the narrow alleyways of the upper town, intending to visit the  Hall
of the Guild of Writers where his friend Veovis dwelt.

If  anyone  outside  that central  group  of  Lords and  Masters  knew  what was
happening, Veovis would.

Arriving at the gate  of the ancient hall,  Aitrus waited in the  tiny courtyard
before the main doors while a steward was sent to notify Veovis of his presence.

Several minutes passed, and then the steward returned.

Aitrus followed  him through,  between high,  fluted pillars  and along  a broad
mosaic path that bisected  Ri'Nerefs Hall, the first  of five great halls  named
after the greatest of  the guild's sons. Like  most of the ancient  Guild Halls,
the Hall of  the Guild of  Writers was not  a single building  but a complex  of
interlinked buildings  and rooms,  some of  them cut  deep into  the face of the
great cavern. As Aitrus ventured farther into the complex, he climbed up  narrow
flights of ancient steps, the stone  of which seemed almost to have  been melted
over  time, like  wax, eroded  by the  passage of  countless feet  over the  six
millennia ofD'ni's existence.

Here, in this great  sprawl of ancient stone,  two thousand guildsmen lived  and
ate  and  slept. Here  they  were educated,  here  went about  the  simple daily
business of the guild. Here also were the book rooms and great libraries of  the
guild, the like of which could be found nowhere else in D'ni.

Walking through  its ancient  hallways, Aitrus  felt the  huge weight of history
that  lay  behind the  Writers  Guild. Though  the  Writers claimed  no  special
privileges, nor had a greater voice than  any other on the Council, it was  held
to be the most prestigious of the Eighteen, and its members had a sense of that.

To be a Writer, that was the dream of many a D'ni boy.

The steward  slowed, then  stopped before  a door.  Turning to  Aitrus, he bowed
again. "We are here, Master."

Aitrus waited while the steward knocked.

A voice, Veovis's, called from within. "Enter!"

The steward pushed the door open a little and looked inside. "Forgive me,  Guild
Master, but it is Master Aitrus, from the Guild of Surveyors."

"Show him in."

As the steward pushed the door  back, Aitrus stepped forward. Veovis'was in  his
chair on the far side of the big, low-ceilinged study. Books filled the walls on
every side. A portrait ofRakeri, Veovis's father, hung on the wall behind a huge
oak-topped desk. In tall-backed chairs close  by sat two other men-one old,  one
young. The elder Aitrus recognized as Lianis, Veovis's tutor and chief  adviser,
the younger was Suahrnir, Veovis's Maintainer friend.

"Ah, Aitrus,"  Veovis said,  getting up,  a broad  smile lighting  his features.
"Welcome, dear friend."

Aitrus  heard the  door close  quietly behind  him. "Forgive  me for  intruding,
Veovis. but I wondered if you had any news."

Veovis came over and  took his hands, then,  stepping back, gestured toward  the
chair beside his own. "It is curious that you should arrive just at this moment.
Suahrnir has  just come  from the  Guild House.  It seems  the High  Council has
finished deliberating. A notice is to  be posted throughout the city within  the
hour."

"So what is the news?"

Veovis sat. The smile had gone from his face. "There are to be special Hearings,
before the Council."

Aitrus sat. looking to his friend. "Hearings? What kind of Hearings?"

Veovis shrugged. "All I know so far is that the outsider is to be  interrogated,
and that we, as Council members,  will be allowed to witness the  interrogation.
My assumption is that the questions will  have to do with the nature of  life on
the surface."

"He speaks D'ni?"

"Not a word. And it is not a he, Aitrus. The outsider is a female."

Aitrus blinked with surprise. "A woman?"

"A girl. A young girl, so I am told, barely out of infancy."

Aitrus shook  his head.  It was  difficult to  believe that  anyone, let alone a
young girl, could have made her way  down from the surface. He frowned. "But  if
she speaks no D'ni, then how are we to question her?"

"Who can say?" Veovis answered, the  slightest hint of irony in his  voice. "But
it appears she is to be handed over  to the Guild of Linguists. They are to  try
to make sense of her strange utterances. That is the idea, anyway. Personally, I
would be surprised if she does more than grunt for her food when she wants it."

"You think so?"

"Oh, I am quite certain of it, Aitrus. Word is that she is a rather  large-boned
animal, and totally covered in hair."

"In hair"

Veovis nodded. "But  I guess that,  too, is to  be expected, no?  After all, one
would  need  some kind  of  special covering  to  protect the  body  against the
elements, wouldn't one?"

"I suppose so."

"And besides, some creatures find that attractive, or so I am told."

There was laughter,  but Aitrus was  silent, wondering just  what circumstances
would force a  young girl-whatever her  species-to venture down  the tunnels. It
was not, after all, what one would expect.

"Is there any way I could see her?" Aitrus asked.

"I doubt it," Veovis answered. "Word, is  she is being kept on an island  in the
cavern oflrrat. The Linguists  will have her locked  away for months, no  doubt.
You know how thorough they are!

"Besides," Veovis went on,  "it is unlikely any  of us will get  a glimpse other
before the  Hearings. If  what Suahrnir  says is  true, almost  half of the High
Council were in  favor of shipping  her out to  a Prison Age  straight away, and
having done with the matter.  Only Lord Eneah's personal intervention  prevented
such a course."

"But she's only a girl."

"Sentiment, Aitrus," Suahrnir  chipped in. "Pure  sentiment. A girl  she may be,
but she  is not  D'ni. We  cannot attribute  her with  the same  intelligence or
sensitivity we D'ni possess. And as for her being only a girl, you cannot  argue
that. Her mere existence here in  D'ni has thrown the people into  turmoil. They
talk of  nothing else.  Nor will  they until  this matter  is resolved.  No. Her
arrival here is a bad thing. It will unsettle the common people."

Aitrus was amazed by Suahrnir's vehemence. "Do you really think so, Suahrnir?"

"Suahrnir is right, Aitrus," Veovis said  quietly. "We might joke about it,  but
this issue is a serious one, and  had my own opinion been sought, I,  too, would
have  advocated  placing  her  somewhere  where  she  can  trouble  the   public
imagination as little as possible."

Aitrus sighed. "I hear what you  are saying. Maybe it will unsettle  people. Yet
it would be a great shame, surely, if we did not attempt to discover all we  can
about conditions up there on the surface?"

"We know now that it is inhabited. Is that not enbugh?"

Aitrus looked down. He did not want to be drawn into an argument with his friend
over this issue.

"Still," Veovis added, when he did not answer, "the matter is out of our  hands,
eh, old friend? The High Council  have decreed that there shall be  Hearings and
so there shall, whether I will it or  no. Let us pray, then, that the  Linguists
good men though they are-fail to make sense of the creature this one time."

Aitrus glanced up and saw that  Veovis was smiling teasingly. Slowly that  smile
faded. "Nothing but trouble can come of this, Aitrus, I warrant you. Nothing but
trouble."

                                   *   *   *

Guild Master Haemis locked the door to the cell, then turned, facing his  pupil.
She sat there behind the narrow  desk, quiet and attentive, the light  blue robe
they had put her in making her seem more like a young acolyte than a prisoner.

"And how are you, this morning, Ah-na?"

"I  am  well.  Master  Haemis,"  she  answered,  the  slight  harshness  in  her
pronunciation still there, but much less noticeable than it had been.

"Thoe kenem, Nava," she said. How are you. Master?

Haemis smiled, pleased with  her. They had begun  by trying simply to  translate
her native  speech, to  find D'ni  equivalents for  everyday objects  and simple
actions, but to his surprise she had begun to turn the tables on them,  pointing
to  objects and,  by means  of facial  gesture, coaxing  him to  name them.  The
quickness of her mind had astonished them  all. By the eighth week she had  been
speaking basic D'ni phrases. It was baby-talk, true, but still quite remarkable,
considering where she came from.

Twenty weeks on and she was almost fluent. Each day she extended her vocabulary,
pushing them to teach her all they knew.

"Is it just you today, Master Haemis?"

Haemis sat, facing her.  "Grand Master Gihran will  be joining us later,  Ah-na.
But for the first hour it is just  you and I." He smiled. "So? What shall  we do
today?"

Her eyes,  their dark  pupils still  disturbingly strange  after all  this time,
stared back at him.  "The book you mentioned...  the Rehevkor ... Might  I see a
copy of it?"

The question  disconcerted him.  He had  not meant  to tell  her about  the D'ni
lexicon. It was their brief to tell  her as little as possible about D'ni  ways.
But she was such a good pupil that he had relaxed his guard.

"That will not be easy, Ah-na. I  would have to get permission from the  Council
for such a step."

"Permission?"

Haemis looked down, embarrassed. "I should not, perhaps, tell you this, but  ...
I should not have mentioned the existence of the Rehtvkor to you. It was a slip.
If my fellow Masters should discover it..."

"You would be in trouble?"

He nodded, then looked up. Anna was watching him earnestly.

"Then I will say nothing more. Master Haemis."

"Thank you, Ah-na."

"Not at all," she said softly. "You have been very kind to me."

He gave a little nod, embarrassed once more, not knowing quite what to say,  but
she broke the silence.

"Will you answer me one thing, Master Haemis?"

"If I can."

"What do  they think  of me?  Your fellow  Masters, I  mean. What do they really
think of me?"

It was  a strange  and unexpected  question. He  had not  thought it  would have
bothered her.

"To be honest, most of them saw you at first as some kind of grinning  primitive
animal."

Haemis glanced at her and saw how she digested that fact; saw how thoughtful  it
made her look.

"And you, Master Haemis? What did you think?"

He could not look at her. Even so, there was something about her that  compelled
his honesty. "I thought no differently."

She was quiet a moment, then, "Thank you. Master Haemis."

Haemis swallowed, then, finding the courage to look at her again, said  quietly,
"I do not think so now."

"I know."

"I ... I will speak for you at the Hearings, if you wish."

Anna smiled. "Once more, your kindness does you great credit, Master Haemis. But
I must speak for myself when the  time comes. Else they, too, will think  me but
an animal, no?"

Haemis nodded, impressed by her bearing, by the strength that seemed to underlie
every aspect of her nature.

"I shall ask," he said quietly.

"Ask?" She stared at him, not understanding.

"About the Rehevkor."

"But you said ..."

"It does  not matter,"  Haemis said,  realizing that  for once  it mattered very
little  beside her  good opinion  of him.  "Besides, we  cannot have  you  going
unprepared before the Council, can we, Ah-na?"

                                   *   *   *

Anna stood by the window of her cell, looking out across the cavern she had been
told  was called  Irrat. The  bleakness of  the view  did little  to raise   her
spirits. The sill into which the great  iron bars were set was four feet  thick,
the  view itself  of rock  and yet  more rock,  only one  small, rust  red  pool
creating a focal point of contrast in that iron gray landscape.

Master Haemis had been kind to her today, and she sensed that maybe he was  even
her friend, yet he  was only one among  many. For all his  small kindnesses, she
was still alone here, still a prisoner in this strange, twilight world where the
days were thirty hours long and the seasons unchanging.

Anna sighed, a rare despondency descending  upon her. She had tried her  best to
learn their language  and find out  something that might  help her-she had  even
enjoyed that task-yet where she was or  who these people were she still did  not
know.

She turned, looking across at the door. Like all else here it was made of stone.
Her bed was  a stone pallet,  cut into the  rock of the  wall. Likewise, a small
shelf-table had been cut from the stone.  On the bed was a thin blanket,  folded
into squares, and a pillow; on the table was a jug of water and a bowl.

Anna walked across and sat on the  edge of the stone pallet, her hands  clenched
together between her  knees. For a  time she sat  there, staring blankly  at the
floor, then she looked up.

The door had opened silently, unnoticed by her. An elderly man now stood  there;
tall, dignified, in a long dark cloak edged with the same shade of burgundy  the
guards who had captured her had worn.

His eyes, like theirs, were pale. His face, like theirs, was tautly fleshed, the
bone structure extremely fine,  as if made of  the most delicate porcelain.  His
long, gray-white hair, like  theirs, was brushed back  neatly from a high,  pale
brow.

But he was old. Far older than any  of those she had so far seen. She  could see
the centuries piled up behind that thin-lipped mouth, those pale, cold eyes.

She waited, expecting him to talk, but  he merely looked at her, then, as  if he
had seen enough, glanced around the cell. Behind him, in the half shadows of the
passageway, stood Master Haemis and one of the guards. He took a step toward the
door. As he did, Anna stood, finding her voice.

"Forgive me, sir, but might I draw you?"

He turned back, a look of surprise in those pale, clear eyes.

"My sketch pad,"  she said. "It  was in my  knapsack, together with  my charcoal
sticks. It would help me pass the time if I had them."

There was the slightest narrowing of his eyes, then he turned and left the cell.
The door swung silently shut.

Anna sat again,  feeling more depressed  than ever. She  had seen the  unfeeling
coldness in the old man's face and sensed that her fate had been sealed in  that
brief moment when he had looked at her.

"So what now?"

She spoke the words quietly, as if  afraid they would be overheard, yet she  had
little more to fear now.  She let her head fall,  for an instant or two  sinking
down into a kind of stupor where she  did not need to think. But then the  image
of the old man's face returned to her.

She recalled his surprise, that narrowing  of the eyes, and wondered if  she had
somehow made a brief connection with him.

"Miss?"

Anna looked  up, surprised  to be  spoken to  after so  lengthy a silence. Again
there had been no warning of the woman's presence before she had spoken.

"Here," the woman  said, stepping across  and placing a  tray onto the  table at
Anna's side. The smell of hot soup and fresh-baked bread wafted across to  Anna,
making her mouth water.

As the  woman stepped  back, Anna  stood, surprised  to see  that instead of the
usual sparse fare,  this time the  tray was filled  with all manner  of foods; a
tumbler of bright red drink, another of milk, a small granary loaf. And more.

Anna turned to thank the woman, but she was gone. A guard now stood there in the
doorway, expressionless, holding something out to her. It was her sketch pad and
her charcoals.

Astonished, she took them from him, nodding her head in thanks. She had asked  a
hundred times, but no one had listened to her. Until now.

The door closed behind the woman.

Anna put her things down, then, taking the tray onto her lap, began to eat.

He listened, yes, but what does that mean?

Was this simply the courtesy they extended to every prisoner? And was this to be
her life henceforth, incarcerated in this bleak stone cell?

And if so, could she endure that?

At least she had the sketch pad now.  She could use the back of it, perhaps,  to
write down all  her thoughts and  observations, something she  had sorely missed
these past  six months.  And then  there were  always the  sessions with  Master
Haemis to look forward to-her struggles with that strange, delightful language.

For a moment  she sat there,  perfectly still, the  food in her  mouth unchewed.
That face-the old man's face. If she could draw that, then maybe she would begin
to understand just  who he was  and what he  wanted of her.  For the secret  was
there, in the features of a man, or so her mother had once said.

Stone-faced, he'd seemed. Yet if she  could chip the surface stone away  and see
what lay behind.

Anna set the  tray back on  the table, then  yawned, feeling suddenly  tired, in
need of sleep.

She would make the sketch later, when she woke.

Unfolding the blanket,  Anna stretched out  on the pallet  and lay it  over her,
closing her eyes. In a moment she was asleep.

                                   *   *   *

The captain paused a moment, studying the sketch, impressed despite himself that
she had captured the old man's face so perfectly. Then, closing the sketch  pad,
he turned and handed it to her, before pointing toward the open doorway.

"Come. It's time to go."

Gathering up her charcoals, Anna tucked them into her pocket, then looked across
at him. "Where are you taking me?"

He did not answer, merely gestured toward the door.

Anna stepped outside, letting the guards fall  in, two to the front of her,  two
just behind. This time, however, no one bound her hands.

As the captain emerged, they came smartly to attention, then set off at a march,
Anna in their midst, hurrying to keep pace.

A long stairway led  down through solid rock,  ending in a massive  gateway, the
stone door  of which  had been  raised into  a broad  black slit  in the ceiling
overhead. They passed beneath it and out onto a great slab of rock, still within
the cavern yet outside  the stone keep in  which Anna had been  kept. She looked
back at it, surprised by the brutality of its construction.

They slowed. Just ahead,  the rock fell away  almost vertically into a  chasm on
three sides, a chain bridge spanning that massive gap, linking the fortress to a
circular archway carved into the far  wall of the cavern. Stepping out  onto the
bridge, Anna looked  down, noting the  huge machines that  seemed to squat  like
black-limbed fishermen beside  dark fissures in  the earth. Machines,  no doubt,
like those she had found up  near the surface. There were buildings  down there,
too, and  chimneys and  huge piles  of excavated  rock, like  a giant's building
blocks, all far below the.narrow, swaying bridge. She was not afraid of heights,
nor of falling, but even  if she had, the guards  would have paid no heed.  They
moved on relentlessly .'nudging her when she was not quick enough.

The arch in the far wall proved  to be ornamental. Just beyond the great  carved
hoop of  stone lay  a wall  of solid  rock, black  marble, polished  smooth. She
thought perhaps they would stop, but the captain marched on, as if he would walk
straight through the rock itself.

As they passed beneath the arch, however, he turned abruptly to the right,  into
deep shadow. More steps led down At the foot of them was a door. As he  unlocked
it, Anna looked to  the captain, wanting to  ask him where they  were taking her
and what would happen there, but he was like a machine, distant and  impersonal,
programmed to carry out his tasks efficiently and silently, his men mute  copies
of himself, each face expressionless

She understood They did not  like her. Nor did they  wish to take the chance  of
liking her.

Beyond the door the passage zigzagged through the rock, small cresset lamps  set
into the stone. And then they were "outside" again, in another cavern.

Anna stepped out,  looking about her.  A great bluff  of rock lay  to her right,
obscuring the view. To her left, just below her and about a hundred yards or  so
away, a broad coil of water cut  its way through a steep-sided chasm It  was not
as dark here as in the first  cavern She did not understand that at  first Then,
to her  surprise, she  saw how  the water  gave off  a steady glow that underlit
everything

They went down  the bare, rocky  slope, then along  a path that  led to a  stone
jetty There, at the foot of a flight of steep, black basalt steps, a long, dark,
elegant boat  was anchored,  the chasm  walls towered  above it.  Four  burgundy
cloaked oarsmen  waited patiently  on their  bench seats,  their oars shipped. A
burgundy-colored  banner hung  limply from  the stern  of the  boat, beside  the
ornamental cabin, a strangely intricate symbol emblazoned in gold in its center.
Anna stared at it as she clambered aboard, intrigued by its complexity.

"Where are we?" she asked.

The captain turned to her, giving her a cold, hard look, his eyes suspicious  of
her. For a moment she thought he would not answer her, then, curtly, he said:

"We are in D'ni. This is the main cavern."

"Ah ..." But  it did not  enlighten her. Duh-nee.  That was what  it had sounded
like. But where was Dwb-nu? Deep in the earth? No, that simply wasn't  possible.
People didn't live deep in the earth, under the rock. Or did they? Wasn't  that,
after all, what  she had been  staring at every  day for these  past six months?
Rock, and yet more rock.

The securing rope  was cast off,  the oarsmen to  her left pushed  away from the
side. Suddenly they were gliding down the channel, the huge walls slipping  past
her as the oars dug deep in unison.

Anna turned, looking back, her eyes going  up to the great carved circle of  the
arch that had been cut into the  massive stone wall of the cave; a  counterpart,
no doubt, to the arch  on the far side. The  wall itself went up and  up and up.
She craned her  neck, trying to  see where it  ended, but the  top of it  was in
shadow.

She sniffed the air. Cool, clean air, like the air of the northern mountains  of
her home.

Outside. They had  to be outside.  Yet the captain  had said quite  clearly that
this was a cavern.

She shook her head in disbelief. No  cavern she had ever heard of was  this big.
It had  to be  ... miles  across. Turning,  she looked  to the  captain. He  was
standing at  the prow,  staring directly  ahead. Beyond  him, where  the channel
turned to  the right,  a bridge  had come  into view-a  pale, lacelike  thing of
stone,  spanning the  chasm, the  carving on  its three,  high-arched spans   as
delicate as-that on a lady's ivory fan.

Passing under the  bridge the channel  broadened, the steep  sides of the  chasm
giving way to the  gentler, more rounded slope  of hills, the gray  and black of
rock giving way to a mosslike green. Ahead of them lay a lake of some kind,  the
jagged shapes of islands visible in the distance, strangely dark amid that  huge
expanse of glowing water.

At first Anna did not realize what  she was looking at; then, with a  start, she
saw that  what she  had thought  were strange  outcrops of  rock were,  in fact,
buildings; strangely shaped buildings that mimicked the flowing forms of  molten
rock. Buildings that had no roofs.

That last made a strange and sudden  sense to her. So they were inside.  And the
water. Of course ... Something must be in the water to make it glow like that.

As the boat glided out onto the lake itself, Anna took in for the first time the
sheer scale of the cavern.

"It's magnificent," she said quietly, awed by it.

The  captain  turned, glancing  at  her, surprised  by  her words.  Then,  as if
conceding something to her, he pointed to his right.

"There. That is where  we are headed. See?  Just beyond the bluff.  It will come
into sight in a moment."

There was a pillar  of some kind-a lighthouse  maybe, or a monument-just  beyond
the great heap of rock that lay  directly to their right, the top of  it jutting
up  above  the  bluff.  Yet  as  they  rounded  the  headland,  she  saw,   with
astonishment, that the pillar was not  as close as she had presumed.  Indeed, it
lay a good two or three miles distant.

"But it's ..."

"Over three hundred and fifty spans high."

Anna stared at the great  column of twisted rock that  lay at the center of  the
glowing lake. Three  hundred and fifty  spans! That was  over a mile  by her own
measure! Somehow  it didn't  seem natural.  The rock  looked as  if it  had been
shaped by some giant hand. Looking at it, she wasn't sure whether it was hideous
or beautiful; her eyes were not trained to appreciate so alien an aesthetic.

"What is it called?"

"The  ancients called  it Ae'Gura,"  he answered,  "but we  simply call  it  The
Island. The city is beyond it, to its right."

"The city?"

But it was  clear that he  felt he had  said too much  already. He looked  away,
falling silent once again, only the swish of the oars in the water and the creak
of the boat as it moved across the lake breaking the eerie silence.

                                   *   *   *

Veovis sat in  the corridor outside  Lord Eneah's study,  waiting, while, beyond
the door, the elders finished their discussion.

He had been summoned at a moment's notice, brought here in the Great Lord's  own
sedan. That  alone said  much. Something  must have  happened-something that the
elders wished urgently to consult him about.

Veovis smiled. He had  known these men since  childhood. He had seen  them often
with his father, in both formal and informal settings. They ate little and spoke
only when a matter of some  importance needed uttering. Most of what  was "said"
between them was a matter of eye contact and bodily gesture, for they had  known
each other now two centuries and more, and there was little they did not know of
each other. He, on the other hand, represented a more youthful, vigorous  strain
of D'ni thinking. He was,  as they put it, "in  touch" with the living pulse  of
D'ni culture.

Veovis knew that  and accepted it.  Indeed, he saw  it as his  role to act  as a
bridge between the  Five and the  younger members of  the Council, to  reconcile
their oft-differing opinions and come  up with solutions that were  satisfactory
to all. Like many of his class, Veovis did not like, nor welcome, conflict,  for
conflict  meant  change  and change  was  anathema  to him.  The  Five  had long
recognized that and had often called on him to help defuse potentially difficult
situations before push came to shove.

And so now, unless he was mistaken.

As the door eased open, Veovis got to his feet. Lord Eneah himself stood  there,
framed in the brightly lit doorway, looking out at him.

"Veovis. Come."

He bowed, his respect genuine. "Lord Eneah."

Stepping into the room, he looked about  him, bowing to each of the Great  Lords
in turn, his own father last of all. It was exactly as he had expected; only the
Five were here. All others were excluded from this conversation.

As  Eneah sat  again, in  the big  chair behind  his desk,  Veovis stood,   feet
slightly apart, waiting.

"It is about the intruder," Eneah said without preamble.

"It seems  she is  ready," Lord  Nehir of  the Stone-Masons,  seated to Veovis's
right, added.

"Ready, my Lords?"

"Yes, Veovis," Eneah said, his eyes glancing from one to another of his fellows,
as if checking that what he was about to say had their full approval. "Far  more
ready, in fact, than we had anticipated."

"How so, my Lord?"

"She speaks D'ni," Lord R'hira of the Maintainers answered.

Veovis felt a shock wave pass through him. "I beg your pardon, Lord R'hira?"

But R'hira merely stared at him. "Think of it, Veovis. Think what that means."

But Veovis could not think. The very idea was impossible. It had to be some kind
of joke. A  test of him,  perhaps. Why, his  father had said  nothing to him  of
this!

"I... "

"Grand Master Gihran of the Guild  of Linguists visited us earlier today,"  Lord
Eneah  said,  leaning  forward  slightly.  "His  report  makes  quite remarkable
reading. We were aware, of course,  that some progress was being made,  but just
how much took  us all by  surprise. It would  appear that our  guest is ready to
face a Hearing."

Veovis frowned. "I do not understand ..."

"It is  very simple,"  Lord Nehir  said, his  soft voice  breaking in.  "We must
decide what  is to  be done.  Whether we  should allow  the young woman to speak
openly before the whole  Council, or whether she  should be heard behind  closed
doors, by those who might be trusted to keep what is heard to themselves."

"The High Council?"

His father. Lord Rakeri, laughed gruffly. "No, Veovis. We mean the Five."

Veovis we'nt to speak then  stopped, understanding suddenly what they  wanted of
him.

Lord Eneah, watching his face closely,  nodded. "That is right, Veovis. We  want
you to make soundings for us. This is a delicate matter, after all. It might, of
course, be safe to let the girl speak openly. On the other hand, who knows  what
she might say? As the custodians of D'ni, it is our duty to assess the risk."

Veovis nodded, then, "Might I suggest something, my Lords?"

Eneah looked about him. "Go on."

"Might we  not float  the idea  of two  separate Hearings?  The first before the
Five, and  then a  second-possibly-once you  have had  the opportunity  to judge
things for yourselves?"

"You mean, promise something that we might not ultimately grant?"

"The second Hearing would be dependent on the success of the first. That way you
have safeguards. And if things go wrong ..."

Eneah was  smiling now,  a wintry  smile. "Excellent,"  he said.  "Then we shall
leave it to you, Veovis. Report back to us within three days. If all is well, we
shall see the girl a week from now."

Veovis bowed low. "As you wish, my Lords."

He  was about  to turn  and leave,  when his  father, Rakeri,  called him  back.
"Veovis?"

"Yes, father?"

"Your friend, Aitrus."

"What of him, father?"

"Recruit him  if you  can. He's  a useful  fellow, and  well liked among the new
members. With him on your side  things should prove much easier."

Veovis smiled, then bowed again. "As  you wish, father." Then, with a  final nod
to each of them in turn, he left.

                                    *  *   *

Eneah sat at his desk long after  they had gone, staring at the open  sketch pad
and the charcoal  image of his  face. It was  some time since  he had stared  at
himself so  long or  seen himself  so clearly,  and the  thought of  what he had
become, of the way  that time and event  had carved his once  familiar features,
troubled him.

He  was,  by nature,  a  thoughtful man;  even  so, his  thoughts  were normally
directed outward, at  that tiny, social  world embedded in  the rock about  him.
Seldom did he stop to consider the greater world within himself. But the  girl's
drawing had  reminded him.  He could  see now  how hope  and loss,  ambition and
disappointment,   idealism   and   the  longer,   more   abiding   pressures  of
responsibility, had marked his flesh. He had thought his face a kind of mask,  a
stone lid upon the years, but he  had been wrong: It was all there,  engraved in
the pale stone of his skin, as on a tablet, for all who wished to read.

If she is typical...

The uncompleted  thought, like  the drawing,  disturbed him  deeply. When he had
agreed to the Hearings, he had thought, as they had all thought, that the matter
was  a  straightforward  one.  The savage  would  be  brought  before them,  and
questioned, and  afterward disposed  of-humanely, to  a Prison  Age-and then, in
time, forgotten. But the girl was not a simple savage.

Eneah closed the sketch pad, then sighed wearily.

"If she is typical..."

                                   *   *   *

"Veovis?"

Veovis looked up, no sign of his normal cheeriness in his face. He looked tired,
as if he had not slept.

"Ah, Aitrus. I'm glad you've come."

Veovis gestured to the chair facing him.  They were in the great Common Room  in
the Writers Guild Hall. The huge,  square room was filled with big,  tall-backed
armchairs. It was a  favorite place for guildsmen  to come and talk,  but few of
the chairs were filled at this early hour of the day.

Veovis smiled faintly, then looked at him. "Lord Eneah summoned me last night."

"And?"

Veovis lowered his voice. "And they want me to help them."

"In what way?"

"They want to cancel the Hearings."

Aitrus  sat forward.  "But Lord  Eneah announced  the Hearings  before the  full
Council. He cannot simply cancel them!"

"Exactly. And that is why he hopes I can persuade individual members to let  the
matter drop."

"Is that why I am here? To be persuaded?"

"No, old friend. You will decide as you decide. But my father wanted me to speak
to you, and so here you are."

"I don't follow you, Veovis."

"He wants you to help me. He thinks you might."

"And what did you say to him?"

"I said I would speak to you. No more."

Aitrus laughed. "Come now. No games. Do you want my help or don't you?"

Veovis smiled. "I'd welcome it. If you'd give it."

"Then you had better tell me everything."

                                   *   *   *

That evening Aitrus did not return to his rooms in the Guild Hall, but went back
to the family home  in the Jaren District,  which was in the  upper northeast of
the city, overlooking the Park of the Ages. His mother was delighted to see him,
but it was his father, Kahlis, he had come to see.

Stepping back from her embrace, Aitrus looked toward the polished stone stairway
that led up to the second floor.

"Is Father in his study?"

"He is, but he is very busy, Aitrus. He has a report to finish for the morning."

Kahlis looked up as Aitrus entered the big, book-lined room, and smiled  wearily
at him from behind a great stack  of papers he was working on. "Ah,  Aitrus. How
are you?"

"Can I speak with you, Father?"

Kahlis  glanced at  the paper  before him,  then, setting  his pen  back in  the
inkstand, sat back.

"It is important, I take it?"

Aitrus  stepped  across and  took  a seat,  facing  him. "This  matter  with the
intruder bothers me."

"How so?"

"I went to  see Veovis early  this morning. He  asked me to  call on him  at his
Guild Hall. His mood was... strange. I asked him what it was, and he said he had
been asked to  undertake a task,  on behalf of  the Five, and  that he needed my
help."

"And you promised you would help him?"

"Yes."

"So what exactly is the problem?"

"I do not like what I am doing. Father. I gave my word before I understood  what
was involved."

"That is most unlike you, Aitrus."

"Perhaps. But Veovis is my friend. To refuse him would have been difficult."

"I understand.  But what  exactly is  it that  you find  so difficult  about the
'task' the Five have given you?"

Aitrus stared at his father. "You have heard nothing, then?"

"What ought I to have heard?"

"That the girl now speaks fluent D'ni."

Kahlis laughed. "You jest with me, Aitriis. Word was she could barely grunt  her
own name!"

"Then word was wrong."

Kahlis took that in,  his expression sober suddenly.  "I see. Then the  Hearings
will be soon, I take it."

"That is just it," Aitrus said. "The Five  no longer want to hold such  hearings
not  before the  full Council,  anyway. They  want the  sessions to  be held  in
private, with only  themselves in attendance.  And they have  charged Veovis and
myself with the job of persuading members of the Council to that viewpoint."

Kahlis stared at him. "I am glad you came to me, Aitrus, before any damage could
be done. Lord Eneah made a promise to the full Council, and that promise must be
upheld."

Kahlis stood and came  around his desk. Aitrus  also stood, turning to  face his
father. "So what will you do?"

"I will go and see Lord Eneah, now, before this matter goes any further. I  will
tell him that I have heard rumors and that I want his confirmation that they are
untrue."

"Then you will say nothing of my part in this?"

"Of  course." Kahlis  held his  son's arms  briefly. "Do  not worry,  Aitrus.  I
understand the delicacy of your predicament. If Veovis thinks you came to me, he
will blame you  for whatever trouble  follows. But I  shall make sure  that Lord
Eneah does not get that impression."

"Yet he might guess ..."

Kahlis smiled. "Between guessing and knowing is a long dark tunnel. I know it is
not in your nature  to deceive, Aitrus,  but it might  be kinder on  your friend
yes, and on yourself- if you kept this meeting with me to yourself."

Aitrus bowed. "I had best go, then."

"Yes. And Aitrus, thank you. You did the right thing."

                                   *   *   *

Lord Eneah was already in bed when his servant knocked on the door.

"Yes, Jedur, what is it?"

A face only a degree or two less ancient than his own poked -around the door and
stared at him.

"It is Grand Master Kahlis,  my Lord. He knows the  hour is late, but he  begs a
meeting. He says it is of the gravest importance."

Eneah sighed, then  slowly sat up.  "Ask Master Kahlis  to allow me  a moment to
refresh myself, then I shall come and speak with him."

"My Lord." The wizened face disappeared.

Eneah slid his legs around and,  throwing back the single cotton cover,  put his
feet down on  the cold stone  of the floor.  There had been  a time when  he had
enjoyed  the  luxuries  his  post had  brought  him,  but  nowadays he  embraced
simplicity in everything.

He  walked across  to the  washstand in  the corner  of his  spartanly-furnished
bedroom and, pouring water  from a jug into  a bowl, washed his  face and hands,
drying himself with a small cloth.

His cloak of office hung on a peg behind the door. He took it down and pulled it
on, buttoning it to the neck.

"There!" he said, smoothing one hand  over what remained of his ash  white hair,
staring at his face in the small mirror  he had had placed on the wall only  two
days ago. "Now let us see what Master Kahlis wants."

Kahlis  was waiting  in the  study. As  Lord Eneah  entered the  room, he  stood
hastily, bowing low.

"Forgive me. Lord Eneah ..."

Eneah waved the apology away. "What is it, Kahlils? Has it to do with the  plans
for the new cavern?"

He knew it  wasn't. Kahlis would  hardly have got  him from his  bed for such  a
matter. No. He knew already  what it was. In fact,  he had half expected one  or
other of them to come to see him. The only surprise was that it was so soon.

As Eneah sat, Kahlis stepped forward, standing at the edge of his desk.

"No, my Lord, it has nothing to do with the plans for the new cavern. Rather, it
is to do with certain rumors that have been circulating throughout the day."

"Rumors?"  For  a moment  longer  he played  innocent,  staring back  at  Kahlis
hawkishly. "You wake me to talk of rumors, Master Kahlis?"

"I would not have  bothered you with such.  Lord Eneah, were they  not concerned
with a matter of the gravest importance,"

"And what matter would this be?"

"The matter of  the hearings." Kahlis  hesitated, then. "Word  is that the  Five
wish to hold the hearings in secret, behind locked doors. Is that so, my Lord?"

For the first time, Eneah smiled. "It is so."

Kahlis, who had clearly  steeled himself for a  denial, blinked. Then, "Might  I
ask why, my Lord?"

Eneah gestured  to a  chair. "Take  a seat.  Master Kahlis,  and I  shall try to
explain. It might  indeed help us  were you to  understand our thinking  on this
matter."

                                   *   *   *

Aitrus was seated at his desk in the corner of his study, trying to catch up  on
his work before he left for the  Guild House, when there was a sharp  rapping on
his door. He stood, then went across and opened it. It was Veovis. Brushing past
him, Veovis stormed across and threw himself down on the padded bench, his  face
dark with suppressed anger.

"Have you heard?"

"Heard? Heard what?"

"The Hearings.  They are  to go  ahead, after  all. The  Five have changed their
minds. They will .take place a week from now."

"Before full Council?"

Veovis nodded, but he was not  looking at Aitrus; he was staring  straight ahead
of him, as if recalling the meeting he  had just come from. "It is a mistake.  I
told Lord Eneah it was  a mistake. And they will  rue it. But he was  adamant. A
promise  is  a  promise,  he  said. Well,  I  would  not  argue  with that,  yet
circumstances change."

"You think it might be dangerous, then, to let the girl speak?"

Veovis glanced at him. "Is there any doubt? No, the more I think of it, the more
certain I am. The  girl has a natural  cunning. It is that,  more than anything,
that has allowed her to master our tongue."

"You think so?"

"Oh, I know it. And I fear that she will use that same native cunning to try  to
manipulate the Council. Why, I have heard that she has beguiled several of those
who were  sent to  study her,  weedling information  from them  when they  least
suspected it. And her audacity!"

Aitrus sat, facing Veovis. "Go on."

Veovis sat forward, staring  down at his hands  where they were clenched  in his
lap. "It seems  one of the  Linguists, thrown off-guard  by her act  of youthful
innocence, mistakenly mentioned  the existence of  the Rehevkor to  her. She, it
seems, elicited from him a promise to show her a copy of it."

"But that is not allowed."

"Precisely. Which is why a certain Guild Master Haemis has been removed from the
study team."

"Why did you not mention this to me before now?"

"Because I did not know until this morning."

Aitrus sighed, then shook his head. "You must feel... let down."

Veovis looked up at him, then nodded.

"So what will you do now?"

"Do?"  There was  a bitterness  now in  Veovis's face  that had  not been  there
before. "I can do nothing. I must act the perfect son and sit upon my hands  and
bite my tongue."

"Has your father instructed you so?"

"Not in so many words. But how else am I to interpret this?" He shook his  head.
"But they will rue it, I guarantee you, Aitrus. The girl is cunning."

"You have seen her?"

"No. And yet I  know her by her  work. She is a  savage, after all, and  savages
have  no morality,  only cunning.  Her words,  I fear,  will poison  many  ears,
persuading them to courses they would otherwise have shunned."

Then you must set your voice against hers."

Veovis  stared at  Aitrus a  moment; then,  smiling, he  nodded. "Yes.  Yes,  of
course. It must be so. My  voice against hers. Truth against trickery."  And now
he grinned. "As ever, you are wisdom itself, Aitrus, yes, and a pillar to me  in
my despair!"

Veovis stood and came  across, and embraced Aitrus,  "Here, let me hug  you, old
friend. I came here despondent and you have filled me with new hope. It shall be
as you said. I shall be the  voice of reason, a fierce, strong light  shining in
the darkness."

Veovis stood back,  smiling into Aitrus's  face. "And you,  my friend? Will  you
speak out with me?"

"I shall speak the truth as I see it," Aitrus said. "I can promise you no more."

"Then let that  be enough. For  you will see,  Aitrus, I promise  you. Do not be
blinded by her seeming innocence; think  rather of the cunning that lies  behind
that mask. And as you see, so speak."

"I shall."

"Then good. I'll leave you to your work. And Aitrus?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. You are the very best of friends."

                                   *   *   *

The  narrow alleyways  of the  lower city  were crowded  with onlookers  as  the
procession made its way up that  great slope of fashioned rock toward  the Great
Hall of  the Guilds.  A small  troupe of  the City  Guard forced  a way through,
keeping the more  curious from  the huge  palanquin that  eight young  guildsmen
Maintainers all-carried between two long poles.

From within the partly curtained palanquin,  Anna sat in her chair, looking  out
at the sea of faces that had gathered to see the so-called outsider taken to the
Hearings. Some called  out to her  in their strange  tongue that she  had yet to
fully master,  yet few  of them  seemed hostile.  It was  more as  if she were a
curio, an exotic  beast captured in  some foreign clime  and brought back  to be
displayed before the court.

Anna looked about her, at the men, women, and children that had gathered  simply
to stare. There  were thousands of  them, yet every  face had that  same strange
elongation of the features, that almost-human fineness to the bones that she had
slowly grown accustomed to  these past six months.  Indeed, looking in a  mirror
last night, it had been her own face she had found strange, and looking now  she
wondered how  they saw  her. Did  they find  her nose  and mouth  too thick  and
coarse, her cheekbones much too heavy, too pronounced, in her face?

Beyond the gate the crowds thinned out. This was a richer district, the citizens
who stood outside their doors dressed opulently now, their curiosity if anything
much fiercer than the people of the lower city. And the path, coo, was  suddenly
much broader.  A marble  path, worn  by a  million feet  to a melted smoothness,
winding its way  between huge roofless  houses that were  as different from  one
another as the houses of the lower city were similar.

Anna noted those differences and nodded inwardly. So it was with societies.  For
the poor uniformity, of dress and  housing, for the rich ... well,  anything. So
her father had  pointed out to  her years ago  when she was  still a child,  his
disillusionment with empires at its darkest ebb.

And today  she would  face the  might of  this small  empire head  on. It  was a
daunting thought, yet the days alone in her cell on the island had prepared  her
well  for this.  They could  do their  worst and  she would  still be   herself,
unbroken and unrepentant. For what should  she repent, except that she lost  her
way? No, it was as her father had always taught her: If she believed in  herself
then it did not matter what the greater world thought other. If she could square
her conscience with herself then all was well.

And, thinking  that, she  heard his  voice clearly  for the  first time  in long
months, encouraging her; saying what he had always said to her:

Be brave, Anna, but before all, be true to yourself.

She would not flinch away from what lay ahead. Whatever was said, whatever  they
decided, she would bear herself with pride, no matter what.

A welcoming  party of  senior guild  officials waited  before the  next gate,  a
massive pile of stone with flanking guard towers and huge, twenty-foot doors.

Anna recognized few of them, but the  three who stood at the front of  the party
were well known to her by now.

"Step down, Ah-na," Lord Eneah said, approaching the palanquin and putting out a
hand to her courteously, "you must walk from here on."

She let herself be helped down, then stepped between the elderly Gihran and  his
fellow guildsman,  Jimel. Now  that she  had to  trust to  her own legs she felt
suddenly less confident. Her pulse had noticeably quickened; her heart fluttered
briefly in her chest. They were almost there now. She sensed it.

Beyond the gate the street opened out into a square, the ground tilted  steeply,
as everywhere here in D'ni. Anna  looked about her, realizing that she  had seen
this  open  space from  her  cell window  many  times but  never  understood its
significance-until now.

The Guild House lay  ahead other now,  a massive building  fronted by huge,  six
sided basalt pillars, its massive, tiered roof reaching up toward the ceiling of
the great cavern. Standing before  it she did not need  to be told what it  was,
for the shields of the different guilds betrayed its function. Guildsmen crowded
the covered  paths surrounding  the great  square, young  and old,  all of  them
wearing the various-colored cloaks-burgundy, yellow, turquoise, crimson, emerald
green, black, pale cream, and royal blue-of the guilds.

As Lord Eneah came  alongside, she glanced at  the old man, noting  how hard and
expressionless his face  was. Yet she  knew him now  to be fair  if not kind. If
anyone would save her, it was he. Master Gihran, she knew, did not like her, and
Master Jimel had as good as told  her that he thought she should be  locked away
for good. Only Master Haemis had been kind, and he had been replaced.

At a gesture from Lord Eneah, the party walked on, Anna in their midst.

At least they have not shackled me again.

But then, why should they? What would she have done? Run away? No. For there was
nowhere to run to. She stood out, like a goat in a sheep pen.

As they came to the great marble steps that led up into the hall, Gihran  leaned
close and whispered to her:

"You must keep  absolutely silent, unless  you are directly  requested to speak,
you understand,  Ah-na? If  you speak  out of  turn, Lord  Eneah will  order you
gagged."

Anna turned, astonished, to look at him, but the old man merely nodded.

"Our codes  of behavior  must not  be flouted,"  he continued,  his words almost
inaudible as they began to climb the steps. "You must do precisely what you  are
told, and you must answer every question as it is put. All right?"

Anna nodded, but she suddenly felt anything but all right. The tension that  had
been in  her stomach  all the  while now  threatened to  unnerve her. She fought
against it; fought against the instinct to let her knees buckle and her head  go
down.

Her throat was dry now. Her hands trembled.

She  stopped dead,  straightening her  head and  clenched her  fists into  tight
balls, controlling the nervous  spasm. It was only  a hearing, after all,  not a
trial. She would speak clearly and answer every point, exactly as Master  Gihran
said. And  maybe they  would see  that she  was telling  them the truth. For why
should she lie?

The  Great Hall  was huge,  much bigger  than she  would have  guessed from  the
outside of the building. A series  of steps followed the contours of  the walls,
at the  top of  which was  a broad  marble plinth.  On the  plinth was a line of
massive basalt thrones. Cloaked guitdsmen, more than a hundred in number, sat in
those great chairs, thick golden chains of office hung about their necks.

There were only two breaks in that great square of thrones: the entrance she had
come through and a  second door set deep  into the rock on  the far side of  the
hall. Lord Eneah led the party on, across that great mosaic floor, then stopped,
turning to face Anna.

"You will stand there, Ah-na," he said commandingly.

She nodded, then watched the old man walk across and cake his place on the great
throne facing her. Tense now, she looked about her. Most of the seated guildsmen
were old- graybeards like  Lord Eneah, if not  as ancient-but one or  two seemed
young by  D'ni standards.  Two in  particular caught  her eye.  They sat side by
side, just to the left of Lord Eneah, the first's black cloak trimmed in  bright
red, the second's in a pale blue.

She glanced at their  faces, expecting to see  there the same indifference  that
was on Lord Eneah's features, then  looked again, surprised to see how  intently
each of them looked at her: one curious and one with clear hostility.

Seeing that look, Anna shivered, her blood suddenly cold. There was no mistaking
it; whoever he was, the young guilds-man clearly hated her.

But why?

"Ah-na!" Lord  Eneah said,  his voice  booming in  that great  space between the
pillars.

"Yes, my Lord."

"You know why you are here?"

She spoke  out clearly,  letting her  voice fill  with a  confidence she did not
entirely feel. "To answer questions. Lord Eneah."

"Good. But you will keep to the point. You will not stray from the question  you
are asked. You understand?"

"I understand, my Lord."

"Good. Then let us begin. We have  many questions to get through before we  have
finished here today."

                                   *   *   *

As she  climbed up  into the  sedan and  pulled the  curtain across, Anna felt a
great weariness  descend on  her. For  almost five  hours she  had stood  there,
without a break, answering their questions.

She sat down heavily in the cushioned seat, remembering.

Who was she? Where was she born?  Who were her parents? What did her  father do?
To whom did he make his reports? What was Tadjinar like? What form of government
did it have? Were there wars where  she came from? Did they have machines?  What
power sources did they use? Were the men of her race honest?

Some of the questions were easy to answer. Others, like the last, were far  more
difficult. Wire men honest? Some, like her father, were. But what of the traders
in Jaarnindu Market? What  of the inspectors and  middlemen who worked for  Lord
Amanjira? She could hardly claim that they were honest. But the guildsman seemed
to want a single answer to the question.

It was the young Guild Master, the one who had glared at her at the outset,  who
had been so insistent on this matter.

"Well, girl? Are all men honest?"

"No, my Lord. Not all men are honest."

"Then men are dishonest by nature?"

"Not all men."

"Come. You cannot have it both ways. Either they are- by nature-or they are not.
Which is it?"

"Are all men in D'ni honest by nature, my Lord?"

There  had been  a sudden  tension in  the chamber.  Lord Eneah  stood,  seeming
suddenly a figure of great power.

"You are here to answer questions, not pose them."

She had  bowed her  head, and  Lord Eneah,  glaring at  her, had signaled to his
fellow Lords, ending the session. But  there was to be another, tomorrow,  and a
further one if necessary- until she was bled dry of answers.

Anna slumped back against  the cushion and closed  her eyes as the  sedan lifted
and began its gentle rocking motion.

With her eyes closed she could see  the young man vividly. Veovis, his name  had
been. He was a handsome, princely man, yet she had noted just how closely he had
watched her throughout, the light of suspicion in his eyes at all times.

The  other, who  sat beside  him, had  often leaned  toward Veovis,  to catch  a
whispered word and sometimes  nod. He seemed an  ally of Veovis's, yet  his eyes
had never once held even the smallest hint of criticism of her. Nor had he asked
a single question.

How strange, she thought, seeing his face clearly. A long, severe-looking  face;
not  unattractive,  yet not  as  obviously handsome  as  Veovis's. He  seemed  a
studious type. But then, weren't all the D'ni studious?

The movement  of the  carriage lulled  her. For  a moment  she dozed,  then woke
again, not knowing for an instant where she was.

Remembering, she found herself for the  first time wondering just what use  they
would  make of  the answers  she had  given. She  had seen  the tunnels  to  the
surface, and knew they were interested in  what went on up there, but she  could
not make out  just what thev  planned to do  with the information  she had given
them. Some things seemed to have interested them more than others. For instance,
they had seemed extremely interested in her answer as to whether her people were
warlike or not. Did that mean they planned, perhaps, to invade the surface?  Was
that why the tunnels were there?

More to the point,  did she really care?  Lord Amanjira aside, she  did not feel
close to anyone in  Tadjinar-no, nor in the  entire empire. Those she  had loved
were dead. So did it matter?

Of course it matters,  the voice inside her  answered. The weight of  your words
could determine the fate of empires. Besides,  war of any kind is bad. Think  of
the suffering, Anna.

The thought of it  troubled her. Ought she,  perhaps, to refuse to  say anything
more? Or had she said too much already?

The trouble was, she knew so little about these people. Whereas she had answered
every question, they had taken great care to keep as much as possible from  her.
As if she were a spy.

Anna let out a  long, sighing breath. Was  that what they thought?  That she had
come to spy on them?

Were it not so serious a matter, she might have laughed. A spy! Why, the idea of
it!

Yet  even  as  she thought  of  it,  she recalled  the  hostility  in the  young
guildsman's face and wondered whether that might not be the cause.

They think I threaten them.

The thought was  sobering. And suddenly,  for the first  time since those  early
days on Irrac, Anna began to wonder if her life was not possibly in danger.

                                   *   *   *

"Well?" Lord Eneah  asked later that  evening when the  Five were finally  alone
together, "Do you still think she is a threat, Nehir?"

Nehir, who had just taken  a seat on the far  side of the desk to  Eneah, looked
up, his pale eyes challenging.

"Not her, Eneah, but what she says. Personally, I think we have heard enough."

"I agree," Rakeri said,  leaning forward in his  chair. "What she is  in herself
does not concern us  here; it is the  threat that contact with  her people might
entail."

"You feel there is a genuine threat, then?"

Rakeri met Eneah's  eyes and gave  a single nod.  "As you know,  I did not agree
with Veovis at first, but I feel  my son's views have been fully vindicated.  If
what the girl says is true- and I believe it is-then the surface-dwellers are  a
backward, warlike, immoral race, whose every action is motivated by greed."

"You read that much into her words?"

"I did  indeed. Why,  her every  utterance spoke  of a  deep corruption in their
natures!"

"I agree,"  R'hira said  quietly, speaking  from his  seat in  the corner of the
room.  "I think  we need  hear no  more. It  would be  folly even  to think   of
establishing contact with the outsiders."

"And you, Sajka?"

Sajka, the most recently appointed of the Five, simply nodded.

"Then, so we shall pflopose." Eneah  looked about him. "I shall summon  the full
Council to session tomorrow at tenth  bell. There is, however, one small  matter
that still needs to be settled, and that is what to do with the girl."

"Send her back," Rakeri suggested.

"Far too risky," R'hira countered. "It  is unlikely, I admit, but someone  might
believe her tale and come looking for us."

"Then maybe we should place her on a Prison Age," Nehir said. "It need not be  a
harsh one. Somewhere pleasant, possibly. We  could even make a new one  for her,
if need be."

"Pleasant or otherwise, do you think  that would be just reward for  her honesty
with us, Nehir?" Eneah's eyes went from one to another of their faces,  silently
questioning each in turn, then he nodded.

"So it  is. The  girl will  stay here,  in D'ni.  We shall  find a home for her,
temporarily, until it is decided fully. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"Agreed."

"Agreed."

Sajka, who had not  spoken until then, looked  about him, a wintry  smile on his
thin lips, and nodded. "Agreed."

                                   *   *   *

Veovis was ecstatic. That evening he threw a celebratory party at an inn down by
the harbor. Aitrus, who had never found time to visit such places, tried hard to
make his excuses, but Veovis would have none of it.

And so Aitrus found  himself wedged into a  corner of a huge  dining room packed
with busy tables, while all about  him a dozen young guildsmen-some familiar  to
him, others only  "faces"-dipped their goblets  into the great  central vat that
rested at the table's center and drank to the young Lord's success.

"It was that final question that  did it," Suahrnir said, his face  glowing with
excitement. "After that, it was a mere formality."

"Maybe so," Veovis  said, standing up  and looking to  Aitrus across the  table,
"but let me say one thing that has not been said. I was wrong about the girl."

"Wrong?" several voices said as one.

Veovis raised his hands, palms out. "Hear me out, gentlemen! Before the  hearing
I was quite clear in my mind what kind of creature she would prove to be, and if
you recall I was not hesitant in saying so!"

There was laughter at that and a great deal of nodding.

"However," Veovis went  on, "I was  wrong, and I  am not too  proud to admit it.
Whatever the  merits or  otherwise other  race, the  girl spoke  well. Yes,  and
honestly, I warrant. I think we all sensed that."

There was a murmur of agreement and more nodding of heads.

"Word is," Veovis continued, "that she is to stay in D'ni. Now, whether that  is
for the common good or not remains to be seen, but so our Masters have  decided,
and  I feel  we should,  this once,  wait and  see. That  said, we  must  remain
vigilant."

What do you mean?" Veovis's constant  companion, Lianis asked from where he  sat
to the left of the young Lord.

"I mean we ought not to let the girl become a focus for any movement to  reverse
today's decision. No contact ought to mean exactly that. No contact."

"And if she proves such a focus, Veovis?" Suahrnir asked.

Veovis smiled and looked about him confidently. "Then we should act to have  her
removed from D'ni to some more suitable place."

Aitrus, who had  been listening closely,  frowned. A Prison  Age, that was  what
Veovis meant. Yet  he could not  deny that his  friend was being  as fair as  he
could be, considering his views.

Aitrus reached out and took his goblet, cradling it to his chest. He was pleased
that Veovis was  so happy, yet  he could not  share their jubilation  at today's
decision. Perhaps it was as Veovis said, that he was letting sentiment cloud his
better judgment, but part  of him was still  back there in the  rock, making his
way up to the surface, with Master Telanis and Jerahl and all the others who had
gone on that youthful venture. Whatever  he had become these past thirty  years,
he could not shed that earlier self.

Watching the girl speak, it had finally crystallized in him. He knew now that he
wanted contact: wanted, more than anything, to stand up there and see, with  his
own eyes, what the surface was like.

But how could  he say that  to Veovis and  remain his friend?  For to Veovis the
very idea of it was anathema.

"Guild Master Aitrus?"

The voice cut through the general  babble of voices at the table.  Aitrus looked
up, expecting it to be one of the young guildsmen, then saw, just behind Lianis,
a cloaked guildsman from the Guild of Messengers.

Silence fell around the table. Aitrus set down his goblet, then stood. "What  is
it?" he asked.

"An urgent  message. Master,"  the Messenger  answered, drawing  off one  of his
gloves, then taking a sealed letter from his tunic pocket. "I was told to ensure
that you act upon its contents immediately."

With a smile, Veovis put out a hand. "Here. I'll hand it to my friend."

The Messenger  looked to  Aitrus, who  nodded. With  a small  bow to  Veovis, he
handed the letter to him, then stood back, pulling on his glove again.

Veovis turned  back, then  handed the  letter across.  "Urgent business, eh, old
friend? That looks like Lord Eneah's seal."

Aitrus stared at the  envelope a moment. Veovis  was right. It was  Lord Eneah's
seal. But when  he opened it,  the note was  not from Lord  Eneah, but from  his
father.

He looked up. "Forgive me, Veovis, but I must leave at once."

"Is there trouble?" Veovis asked, genuinely concerned.

Aitrus swallowed. "It does not say."

"Then go," Veovis said, signaling to the others about the table to make way. "Go
at once. But let me know, all right? If there is anything I can do ..."

Aitrus, squeezing past his fellow guildsmen, gave a distracted nod. Then he  was
gone.

Veovis sat,  staring across  the crowded  room, his  face briefly clouded. Then,
looking back at the others about the table, he smiled and raised his goblet. "To
D'ni!" he exclaimed.

A dozen voices answered him robustly. "To D'ni!"

                                   *   *   *

Kahlis stood in the entrance hall, pacing up and down, awaiting his son. It  was
midnight and the city bell was sounding across the lake.

As the last chime  echoed into silence, he  heard the outer gate  creak back and
hurried footsteps on the stone flags  outside. A shadow fell across the  colored
glass of the door panels.

Kahlis stepped across and drew the bolt, pulling the door open.

Aitrus stood there, wide-eyed  and breathless. From the  look of him he  had run
the last half mile.

"What's happened?" he said, looking past his father.

Kahlis closed the door. "Come upstairs, Aitrus."

They went up, into his study. Closing the door quietly, Kahlis turned to him.

"I have been asked to look after the outsider for a time. Lord Eneah summoned me
this evening and asked me if I would take the girl, Ah-na, into my household, as
a temporary measure. Until better arrangements can be made. He asked me  because
he understood my concern for the young woman."

"And you want me to agree to this?"

"Yes."

"Then I agree."

Kahlis went to speak again, then realized what his son had said. "You agree?"

"I take it Mother has  agreed. And you must have,  else you would not be  asking
me."

In answer  Kahlis went  over to  the door  and opened  it, then  called down the
steps. "Tasera!"

His mother's head and shoulders appeared at the foot of the stairs.

"Tasera," Kahlis said,  "bring the young  lady. I wish  to introduce her  to our
son."

                                   *   *   *

As she stepped into the book-filled study, Anna looked about her warily.

"Aitrus," Kahlis said, "this is Ah-na. She is to be our house guest for a time."

Aitrus bowed his head respectfully. "I am glad you will be staying with us."

"Thank you," she said, their eyes  meeting briefly as he lifted his  head again.
"I am grateful for your kindness in letting me stay."

"You are welcome," Tasera interrupted, coming across to take Anna's arm. "Now if
you would excuse us, I must see Ah-na to her room."

The brevity of the welcome surprised her; yet she turned and followed the  woman
out and down the corridor.

"Here," Tasera said, opening a door and  putting out an arm. "This will be  your
room."

Anna stepped inside,  surprised. Compared to  the Lodge, it  was luxurious. Anna
turned and bowed her head.

"You are too kind, Tasera. Much too kind."

                                   *   *   *

Aitrus was walking across  the open space between  the main Guild House  and the
Great  Library  when  Veovis stepped  from  a  group of  guildsmen  and  made to
intercept him.  It was  more than  a week  since they  had last  met, in the inn
beside the harbor.

"Aitrus! Did you get my note?"

Aitrus stopped. "Your note ... Ah, yes. I have been busy."

Veovis smiled, putting out his hands to Aitrus who took them in a firm grip.

"So what is she like?"

"She seems ... polite. Well mannered."

"Seems?"

Aitrus found himself oddly defensive. "It's my impression."

"Then you think she is genuine?"

"Didn't you? I thought you said as much?"

Veovis smiled, defusing the situation. "That was my impression, I grant you. But
then, I am not living with her- day in, day out. If there are any cracks in that
mask others, you would see them, no?"

"If there were."

"Oh, I am not saying that there art. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"Just that we ought to be totally certain, don't you think?"

For some reason the idea of checking up on the girl offended Aitrus.

"She seems  ... unsettled,"  he said,  after a  moment  wanting  to give  Veovis
something.

"Unsettled? How?"

"Maybe it is just the strangeness of  everything here. It must be hard to  adapt
to D'ni after living under an open sky."

"Does she miss her home?"

"I am not sure. To be honest, ,1 have not asked her."

Veovis laughed. "What you really mean is that you have not spoken to her yet."

"As I said, I have been busy. Helping my father, mainly."

Veovis stared at Aitrus a moment, then reached out and held his arm. "You should
take a break some time, Aitrus. And  when you do, come and visit me,  on K'veer.
And bring the girl."

"That would be nice."

"Soon, then," Veovis said, and without another word, he turned and walked away.

Aitrus watched Veovis a moment-saw him return to the group he had left  earlier,
greeting them  again, at  ease among  them-then smiled  to himself  as he walked
away. To be honest, he had dreaded meeting Veovis again, knowing how Veovis felt
about the "outsider." He  had thought, perhaps, that  his friend would be  angry
that the girl was  staying with his family,  but his fears, it  seemed, had been
illusory.

His smile broadened  as he hastened  his pace, knowing  he was late  now for his
meeting.

K'veer. It would be nice to take the girl to see K'veer.

                                   *   *   *

The room was a workroom or lab of some kind. Anna hesitated, looking behind  her
at the empty corridor, then slipped inside, pulling the door closed.

You  should not  be in  here, Anna,  she told  herself, yet  that old   familiar
compulsion to  explore was  on her.  Besides, she  would not  stay long, and she
would not disturb anything.

There was a long, stone-topped bench along the left-hand side of the room, a big
low table in  the middle, complete  with sinks and  gas taps. On  the far wall a
number of small shelves held all manner of jars and bottles. To the right of the
room, in the far corner, was a desk and a chair, and on the wall above a set  of
shelves on which were many notebooks.

She put her hand out, touching the cool, hard surface of the bench. It had  been
scrubbed clean and when she lifted her hand, she could smell a strange scent  to
it. What was that? Coal tar? Iodine?

Slowly she walked about the room, picking things up then placing them back. Most
of  the equipment  was familiar,  yet there  were one  or two  things that  were
strange to her. One  in particular caught her  attention. It was a  small bronze
jar with eight lips, beneath each of which was a tiny bowl. A bronze ball sat on
a tiny stand at the very center of the jar, balanced above all else.

Anna crouched down, onto  its level, staring at  it for a time,  then walked on,
over to the far corner of the room.

Only  two things  were on  the surface  of the  desk; an  elaborately  decorated
inkstand made of fine blue jade and, just beside the stand, a pair of glasses.

Anna picked them  up and studied  them. The lenses  were thick and  seemed to be
constructed of  several very  fine layers  that acted  as light  filters of some
kind. About each of the lenses was a tight band of expandable material which, in
turn, was surrounded by a thick leather band, studded with tiny metal  controls.
She adjusted them, noting how they changed the opacity of the lenses, and smiled
to herself. Then, on a whim, she  tried them on. Strange. They were very  tight.
Airtight, probably,  on the  person for  whom they  were designed.  And, wearing
them, it became very dark.

Again she adjusted the controls, varying the light.

Taking them off,  she set them  down again, wondering  what precisely they  were
used for. Mining? To protect the eyes against chips of rock? But if so, then why
the varying opacity?

Anna half-turned toward the door, listening for a moment, then, turning back  to
face the shelves, she reached up and  took one of the journals down. Inside  the
pages were filled with strange writing,  totally unlike any script she had  ever
seen before. Flicking through a few pages she stopped, staring in admiration  at
a  diagram on  the right-hand  page. There  were more  farther on,  all of  them
intricately drawn, the lines fine yet dark, the shading subtle. They spoke of  a
highly organized mind.

She closed the  journal and set  it back in  its place, then,  with a final look
about her, hurried from the room.

It was no good. She would have to do something or she would die of boredom.

Distracted, she almost bowled into Aitrus.

"Come," he said quietly. "We need to speak."

Anna followed him, surprised. He had barely said a word to her all week. She was
even more surprised when  he led her along  the corridor and ,"nto  the workroom
she had been exploring.

Did he know? Was that what this was about?

Inside, Aitrus closed the door, then  gestured for her to take the  chair beside
the desk. He seemed awkward.

"Here," he said, turning to reach up and take down one of the books that were on
the topmost shelf. He  offered it to her.  "That is a history  of D'ni. It is  a
child's book, of course, but..."

Aitrus stopped. She was staring at the pages blankly.

"What is it?"

She looked up at him, then, closing  the book, handed it back to him.  "I cannot
read this."

"But I  thought..." He  shook his  head, then,  "You mean,  you learned to speak
D'ni, but not to read it?"

Anna nodded.

Aitrus stared at the book a moment, then set it down and turned, searching among
the bottom shelves until he found  something. It was a big, square-covered  book
with a dark amber  leather cover. He pulled  it out from among  the other books,
turning, he offered it to Anna.

"Here. This is the key to all."

Anna took  it, studying  the beautifully  tooled leather  cover a  moment before
opening it. Inside, on heavy vellum  pages, were set out columns of  beautifully
intricate figures-more like designs than letters.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Is  this what I think it is? Is this  the D'ni
lexicon?"

"The Rehevkor," he said, nodding.

She looked back at the  page, smiling sadly now. "Bfat  I do not know what  they
mean."

"Then I shall teach you," Aitrus said, his pale eyes watching her seriously.

"Are you sure that is allowed?"

"No," he answered, "but I will teach you anyway."

                                   *   *   *

Anna sat at the prow of the boat as it approached the island, Aitrus just behind
her, standing, his right hand resting lightly on the rail.

"So that is K'veer," she said quietly. "I saw it once before, when they  brought
me from Irrat."

Aitrus nodded. "It has been their family home for many years."

"I remember thinking how strange it was.  Like a great drill bit poking up  from
the bottom of the lake."

He smiled at that.

"So who is this Veovis?"

"He is the son of Lord Rakeri, Grand Master of the Guild of Miners."

"And he, too, is a Miner?"

"No. Veovis is a Master of the Guild of Writers."

"You have a Guild of Writers? Are they important?"

"Oh, very much so. Perhaps the most important of all our guilds."

"Writers?"

He did not answer her.

She looked back at  him surprised. Slowly the  island grew, dominating the  view
ahead of them.

"Has Veovis many brothers and sisters?"

"None. He is an only child."

"Then why so huge a mansion?"

"Lord Rakeri often entertains guests. Or did before his illness."

Anna was quiet for a time as they drifted slowly toward the island. There was  a
small harbor  directly ahead  of them  now, and  beneath a  long, stone jetty, a
dark, rectangular opening.

"Does your friend Veovis dislike me?"

The question surprised Aitrus. "Why do you ask?"

"I ask because he stared at me throughout the hearing."

"Is that so unusual? I stared."

"Yes, but not as he did. He seemed hostile toward me. And his questions ..."

"What of his questions?"

She shrugged, then, "Did he ask you to bring me?"

"He invited you specifically."

"I see."

Yet she seemed  strangely distant, and  Aitrus, watching her,  wondered what was
going on in her  head. He wanted Veovis  and her to be  friends. It would be  so
easy if they were friends, but as it was he felt awkward.

"Veovis can be outspoken sometimes."

"Outspoken?"

"I thought  I ought  to warn  you, that's  all. He  can be  a little blunt, even
insensitive at times, but he is well meaning. You should not be afraid of him."

Anna gave a little laugh. "I am not afraid, Aitrus. Not of Veovis, anyway."

                                   *   *   *

They spent hours, it seemed, just going  from room to room in the great  mansion
that was built into the rock of K'veer, Veovis delighting in showing Anna  every
nook and cranny.

At first Anna had been  wary, but as time went  on she seemed to succumb  to the
young Lord's natural charm, and Aitrus, looking on, found himself relaxing.

As they climbed the final flight of  steps that led onto the veranda at  the top
of the island,  Aitrus found himself  wondering how he  could ever have  worried
about these two not getting along.

"The stone seemed  fused," Anna was.  saying, as they  came out through  the low
arch and into the open  again. "It is almost as  if it has been melted  and then
molded."

"That is  precisely what  has happened,"  Veovis answered  her with an unfeigned
enthusiasm. "It is a special D'ni process, the secret of which is known only  to
the guilds concerned."

They  stepped out,  into the  center of  the veranda.  There was  a tiled   roof
overhead, but the view was open now  on all four sides. All about them  the lake
stretched away,  while in  the distance  they could  see the  great twisted rock
ofAe'Gura and, to its right, the city.

They were high up here, but the great walls of the cavern Stretched up far above
them,  while  overhead there  were  faint clouds,  like  feathered cirrus.  Anna
laughed.

"What is it?" Veovis asked.

"It's just that I keep thinking I  am outside. Oh, the light is very  different,
but... well, it's just so big."

Veovis looked to  Aitrus and smiled,  then gestured toward  a group of  lounging
chairs that rested at one end of the veranda.

"Shall we sit here for a while? I can have the servants bring us something."

"That would be nice," Anna said, looking to Aitrus and smiling.

As Veovis went to arrange refreshments, Anna and Aitrus sat.

"He's  very  pleasant," she  said  quietly. "I  can  understand why  he  is your
friend."

"So you've forgiven him?"

"Forgiven him?"

"For scowling at you."

"Ah ..." Anna laughed. "Long ago."

Aitrus smiled. "I'm glad, you know."

"Really?"

"Yes. I wanted you to be friends. It would have been hard otherwise."

Anna frowned. "I didn't know."

"I ... "

He fell silent. Veovis had returned. The young lord came across and, taking  the
chair between them, looked from one to another.

His eyes settled on Anna. "Can I be honest with you, Ah-na?"

Anna looked up. "Honest? In what way?"

Veovis grinned. "We are alike, you  and I. We are both straightforward  people."
He looked pointedly at Aitrus. "Blunt, some call it. But let me say this. I  was
not disposed to like you. Indeed, I was prepared to actively dislike you. But  I
must speak as I find, and I find that I like you very much."

She gave the smallest little nod. "Why, thank you, Lord Veovis."

"Oh, do not thank me,  Ah-na. I did not choose  to like you. But like  you I do.
And so we can be  friends. But I must make  one or two things clear.  I am D'ni.
And I am jealous of all things  D'ni. We are a great and proud  people. Remember
that, Ah-na. Remember that at all times."

Anna stared at him  a moment, surprised by  that strange and sudden  coldness in
him, then answered him.

"And I, my  Lord, am human,  and proud of  being so. Remember  that," she smiled
pointedly, "at all times."

Veovis sat back, his eyes studying Anna thoughtfully. Then, more cheerfully than
before, he  smiled and  slapped his  knees. "Well...  let us  forget such somber
stuff. Aitrus ... how go the plans for the new cavern?"

                                   *   *   *

On the journey home Anna was silent, locked in private thoughts. Aitrus, sitting
across from her, felt  more than ever how  alien their worlds were.  What, after
all, did they really know about each other?

"Ah-na?"

She looked up, a deep melancholy in her eyes. "Yes?"

"What would you like to do?"

Anna turned her head,  staring out across the  lake. "I'd like to  understand it
all, that's what. To know where all  the food comes from. It mystifies me.  It's
like something's missing and I can't see what it is."

"And you want me to tell you what it is?"

She looked to him. "Yes, I do. I want to know what the secret is."

He smiled. "This  evening," he said  mysteriously, sitting back  and folding his
arms. "I'll take you there this evening."

                                   *   *   *

Aitrus unlocked the door, then stood back.

"You want me to go inside?"

He nodded.

Anna shrugged. She had noticed the  door before now. It had always  been locked,
and she had assumed it  was a store cupboard of  some kind. But inside it  was a
normal room, except that in the middle of the floor was a marble plinth, and  on
the plinth was an open book-a huge, leatherbound book.

Anna looked to Aitrus. "What is this room?"

Aitrus locked the door then turned to her again. "This is the Book Room."

"But there is only one book."

He nodded, then, with a seriousness  she had not expected, said, "You  must tell
no one that you came here. Not even my mother and father. Do you understand?"

"Are we doing something wrong?"

"No. Yet it may be forbidden."

"Then perhaps ..."

"No, Ah-na. If you are to live here, you must understand. You have too simple  a
view of who we are. It... disfigures your understanding of us."

Disfigures. It was  a strange word  to use. Anna  stared at him,  then shook her
head. "You frighten me, Aitrus."

Aitrus stepped up to the plinth and stared down at the book fondly.

Anna stepped alongside him, looking down  at the open pages. The left-hand  page
was blank, but on the right...

Anna gasped. "It's like a window."

"Yes," he said simply. "Now give me your hand."

                                   *   *   *

Anna felt the surface of her palm tingle, then, with a sudden, sickening  lurch,
she felt herself drawn  into the page. It  grew even as she  shrank, sucking her
into the softly glowing image.

For a moment it was as if she  were melting, fusing with the ink and paper,  and
then, with a  suddenness that was  shocking, she was  herself again, in  her own
body.

Only she was no longer in the room.

The air was fresh and heavy with  pollen. A faint breeze blew from the  shelf of
rock just in front of her. And beyond it...

Beyond it was a vividly blue sky.

Her mouth  fell open  in astonishment,  even as  Aitrus shimmered  into solidity
beside her.

He put his hand out, holding her arm as a wave of giddiness swept over her.  She
would have fallen but for him. Then  it passed and she looked at him  again, her
words an awed whisper.

"Where are we?"

"Ko'ah," he said. "This is my family's Age."

                                   *   *   *

Anna  stood on  the top  of the  escarpment, looking  out over  a rich,  verdant
landscape that took her breath away, it was so beautiful. Flat, rolling  pasture
was broken here and there by tiny coppices, while close by the foot of the  hill
on which  she stood,  a broad,  slow-moving river  wound its  way out across the
plain, small  grassy moundlike  islands embedded  like soft  green jewels in its
sunlit surface.

To her right a  line of mountains marched  into the distance, birds  circling in
the clear blue sky above them.

Sunlight beat down on her neck  and shoulders; not the fierce, destructive  heat
of the desert but a far softer, more pleasant warmth.

"Well?" Aitrus asked, from  where he sat, just  behind her, staring out  through
the strange, heavy glasses that he now wore. "What do you think of Ko'ah?"

Anna turned, looking back at him. "I think you have enchanted me. Either that or
I am still in bed and dreaming."

Aitrus reached out and plucked a nearby flower, then handed it to her. She  took
the pale blue bud and lifted it to her nose, inhaling its rich, perfumed scent.

"Are your dreams as real as this?"

She laughed. "No." Then, more seriously, "You said you would explain."

Reaching into his pocket, Aitrus took out a small, leather-bound book. He stared
at it a moment, then handed it to her.

"Is this  another of  those books?"  she asked,  opening it  and seeing  that it
contained D'ni writing.

"It is. But different from the one we used to come here. This book links back to
D'ni. It is kept here, in the small cave we went to.

"The words in that book describe the place to which we link back-the study in my
family's mansion in D'ni. It was  written there. Without it we would  be trapped
here."

"I see,"  she said,  staring at  the thin  volume with  new respect.  "But where
exactly are we? Are we in the pages of a book, or are we actually somewhere?"

His smile was  for her quickness.  "There is, perhaps,  some way of  calculating
precisely where we are-by the night-time  stars, maybe-but all that can be  said
for certain is  that we are  elsewhere. In all  likelihood, we are  on the other
side of the universe from D'ni."

"Impossible."

"You could say  that. But look  about you, Anna.  This world is  the Age that is
described in the  book back in  the room in  D'ni. It conforms  precisely to the
details in that  book. In an  infinite universe, all  things are possible-within
physical limits, that is-and any book that can be written does physically exist.
Somewhere. The book is the bridge between the words and the physical  actuality.
Word and world are linked by the special properties of the book."

"It sounds to me like magic."

Aitrus smiled. "Maybe. But  we have long since  stopped thinking of it  as such.
Writing such books is a difficult  task. One cannot simply write whatever  comes
into one's  head. There  are strict  rules and  guidelines, and  the learning of
those rules is a long and arduous business."

"Ah," she said. "I understand now."

"Understand what?"

"What you said about Writers. I thought ..." Anna laughed. "You know, Aitrus,  I
would never have guessed. Never in a  thousand years. I thought you D'ni were  a
dour, inward-looking people. But this ... well... you are true visionaries!"

Aitrus laughed.

"Why, the great cavern in D'ni is like a giant skull, filled with busy thoughts,
and these books-well, they are like the dreams and visions that comes from  such
intense mental activity!"

Aitrus stared at  her a moment,  then shook his  head. "You are  amazing, Ah-na.
Why, I have lived in D'ni more than fifty years and never once have I thought of
such a thing!"

"Different  eyes,"  she said,  looking  pointedly at  him,  "that's all  it  is.
Sometimes it takes a total stranger to see the obvious."

"Perhaps so."

"But tell me, Aitrus. You spoke  of the book's special properties. What  exactly
did you mean?"

He looked away. "Forgive  me, Ah-na, but perhaps  I have already said  too much.
Such things are great secrets. Grave and greatly guarded secrets, known to  only
the .Guilds."

"Like the Guild of Ink-Makers?"

Akrus glanced at her, then smiled. "Yes, and the Guild of Books who  manufacture
the paper... and, of course, the Guild of Writers."

"And the writing in the books ... is it different from the writing you have been
teaching me?"

"Yes."

For a moment  Anna stared at  the book in  her hands; then,  closing it up,  she
handed it back to him.

She turned,  looking about  her once  again, savoring  the feel  of the cool and
gentle breeze on her arms and neck. Her hand went to her neck, drawing back  the
fine silk of her long, lustrously dark hair.

"It  must  have  been cruel  for  you,"  Aitrus said,  watching  her,  a strange
expression coming to his eyes, "being locked up."

"It was." She  glanced around at  him, then smiled-a  bright smile, full  of the
day's sunlight. "But let's forget that now. Come, Aitrus. Let us go down to  the
river."

                                   *   *   *

That evening neither Aitrus  nor Anna spoke a  word about their visit  to Ko'ah.
But later, in her room, the impossibility of it struck Anna forcibly. She sat on
the edge of the bed, her mouth open in astonished recollection.

In that instant after she had "linked," she had never felt more scared. No,  nor
more exhilarated. And the world itself. Ko'ah. Sitting there, she could scarcely
believe that she had really been there. It had seemed so strange and  dreamlike.
Yet in a  small glass vase  on the table  at her side  was the pale  blue flower
Aitrus had given her.

Anna leaned close, inhaling its scent.

It had been real. As real as this. The very existence of the flower was proof of
it. But how could that be? How could simple words link to other places?

On their return from Ko'ah, Aitrus had shown her the Book, patiently taking  her
through page after  page, and showing  her how such  an Age was  "made." She had
seen at once the differences between this archaic form and the ordinary  written
speech of D'm, noting how it was not merely more elaborate but more specific:  a
language of  precise yet  subtle descriptive  power. Yet  seeing was  one thing,
believing  another.  Given all  the  evidence, her  rational  mind still  fought
against accepting it.

Beside the Book itself, Aitrus had gone on  to show her the books of  commentary
three in all, the  last containing barely a  dozen entries. All Books,  he said,
were accompanied by such commentaries, which were notes and observations on  the
Ages. Some of the  more ancient Ages-like Nidur  Gemat-had hundreds of books  of
commentary.

She had asked him about it.

"Nidur Gemat?"

"It is one of six worlds belonging to Veovis's family."

"Ah, I see. And do all the D'ni own such Ages?"

"No. Only the older families own such Ages. The rest- the common people of  D'ni
use the Book Rooms."

"You mean, there are common worlds, that everyone can visit?"

"Yes. In fact, until my father became Grand Master of our guild, we did not have
our own Age. Ko'ah was written for my father twenty years ago."

"And before that?"

"We would visit the Guild Ages. Or Ages owned by friends."

Anna had smiled at that. "That is some incentive."

"Incentive?"

"To work hard and make one's way in the guild. Is there no resentment among  the
common people?"

Aitrus had shrugged. "Not that I know of. The Common Ages are free to  everyone.
It is not as if they are denied."

"No, but..." She had let the  matter drop, returning her attention to  the first
of  the books  of commentary.  "What is  this?" she  had asked  after a  moment,
looking up at him, again.

There had been a stamped impression  on the page, beneath a paragraph  of small,
neat writing in a bright green ink.

"That is an inspection.  By the Guild ofMaintainers.  They ensure that all  Ages
are maintained according to Guild laws."

"And if they are not?"

"Then the Book can be confiscated and the owner punished."

"Does that happen often?"

"Not often. All know the penalty for  misdemeanors. To own an Age is an  immense
responsibility. Few are trusted."

"And yet you took me there."

He had hesitated, then looking at her directly, he had nodded. "Yes, I did,"  he
said.

                                   *   *   *

Anna slept well that night,  and if she dreamed she  did not recall it when  she
woke. Refreshed, she sat up, looking  across at the delicate blue flower  in its
vase beside her  bed, her mind  at once filled  with the wonder  of what she had
witnessed the day before.

Aitrus was not  at breakfast, and  at first she  thought that maybe  he had left
early  to go  to the  Guild Hall,  but then,  at the  last moment,  as she   was
finishing her meal, he rushed into the room in a state of immense excitement.

"Anna! Wonderful news! Veovis is to be given a Korfah V'ja!"

She stared at him uncomprehendmgly.

He  laughed. "I'm  sorry. The  Korfah V'ja  is a  special ceremony  to mark  the
Guild's acceptance of his Book-his first Master work, that is. It is a momentous
event. Few guilds-men are ever given one, and Veovis is immensely young to  have
been granted such an honor!"

"And Veovis ... he wrote this Book? Like the Age we went to?"

Aitrus nodded. "Only much better. Incomparably better."

The thought of that made her reassess Lord Veovis. She had thought him merely  a
rich man's son,  a politician. She  had not even  considered that he  was also a
"creator," let alone a great one.

"Then it will be a great occasion, no?"

"The greatest for many a year. All  of D'ni society will be there. And  you must
come with us, Anna!"

She looked down. Usually she hated  social occasions, but the thought of  seeing
all of  D'ni society-and  of meeting  Lord Veovis  once again-filled  her with a
strange excitement.

"When is to be?" she asked, looking back at Aitrus.

"A week from now," he answered. "On the anniversary of Kerath's home-coming."

                                   *   *   *

It was a small ceremony. The  six Assistant Grand Masters and the  Grand Master,
Lord Sajka  himself, stood  in a  half circle  on the  great platform, while the
celebrant, Veovis, stood before them, his Book, the work of sixteen long  years,
on the podium before him.

The day  was bright  and springlike,  the blue  sky dotted  with clouds.  In the
distance, snow-capped mountains  marched toward the  south and the  great ocean.
Below them the great plains stretched away to east and west and south, while  to
the north the ancient settlement of Derisa was tucked into a fold of hills.

This was the oldest of the guild's many Ages-the Age of Yakul, made by the first
great Writer of the Guild, Ar'tenen, and here, traditionally, the first official
ceremony took place.

There would be a second, more  public, ceremony later, on Veovis's own  world of
Ader Jamat, at  which this moment  would be reenacted  for all to  see, but this
seemingly low-key event was by far the more important.

Each of the seven senior members of  the guild had read the great work  that was
today accepted into  the guild's own  canon, and each  had given their  separate
approval for this  ultimate recognition of  the young Guild  Master's talent. It
was 187  years since  the last  Korfah Via  and it  would be  many years  before
another.  Only  ninety-three Books  had  been accepted  into  the canon  in  the
wholfrofthe long history  of the guild-  among them the  Five Great Classics  of
D'ni-and only four guildsmen had ever  received this honor younger than the  man
who now stood before them. Among those four was the legendary Ri'Neref.

A faint  breeze gusted  across the  open space,  rustling their  cloaks, as Lord
Sajka, Grand Master of the Guild of Writers, stepped forward and, in a tongue as
distinct  from  the common  speech  of D'ni  as  that of  the  surface-dwellers,
pronounced the Words of Binding.

And then it was done. As Veovis  bowed his head to his peers, Lord  Sajka smiled
and, in the common speech, said:

"Well done, Veovis. We are all immensely proud of you."

Veovis looked up and smiled, conscious of the great honor being accorded him.

"My Lord, Guild  Masters ... I  hope to prove  worthy of your  approval. It is a
great privilege  to be  a member  of the  Guild of  Writers, and  I count myself
blessed the day I chose to enter it."

And so it was done.

As, one by one, the elders linked  back to D'ni, Veovis turned and looked  about
him at the ancient  world of Yakul, and  wondered if, one day,  several thousand
years hence,  some other  guildsman would  stand on  an Age  he had  written and
wonder,  as he  now wondered,  what kind  of man  it was  whose imagination  had
wrought the connections to such a world as this.

He turned and walked over to the Linking Book. It was time to return to D'ni, to
pause and reflect before  beginning the next chapter  in his life. For  his next
work would be something  other, he was determined  on it; not just  a gteat work
but a classic.

But before all, celebration. For today was his day. Today he became a great man,
honored before all D'ni.             ;

Veovis placed his hand against the  glowing panel and linked, a smile  appearing
on his lips even as his figure shimmered and then faded into the air.

                                   *   *   *

On the boat across to K'veer,  Anna began to have second thoughts  about meeting
so many strangers at the ceremony.

With Aitrus it was fine,  for it was only the  two of them, as it  had been with
her father, but  with all others,  even with Aitrus's  parents, she felt  ill at
ease. She was not by  any means a social creature.  How she should act and  what
she should say, these things were a complete mystery to her.

It does not matter, Aitrus had said  to her. They do not cxpectyou to  bthave as
they behave

Now, as the island grew nearer and she could see the great host of boats queuing
to enter the tiny harbor, she felt her nervousness return.

Last night, before her conversation with Aitrus, there had been a strange little
scene in Kahlis's study. Knowing that his father knew nothing of their  ventures
into Ko'ah, Aitrus had  had his father "explain"  about Books to Anna,  and she,
schooled by Aitrus in what  to say and how to  react, had pretended that it  was
all completely new to her.

Kahlis had clearly been concerned; not  only at Anna's possible reaction but  by
the problem of  just how much  to tell her.  Airrus, however, had  convinced him
that had Lord  Eneah not meant  her to know,  then he would  have given explicit
instructions to that effect. Kahlis would,  indeed, have gone to see Lord  Eneah
had the great man not taken to his bed again with a recurrence of his illness.

And so  Kahlis had  "prepared" her,  telling her  that she  must expect  a great
surprise, and that she was not to  be afraid, for all that she would  experience
was quite normal. And she, prompted by Aitrus, had feigned that she  understood,
even though she would barely have  recognized the process of "linking" from  the
description Aitrus's father had given her. It had been vague almost to the point
of willfulness.

As their boat  joined the great  queue of boats,  Anna could see,  on the decks,
endless guildsmen and their wives and sons and daughters, all of them dressed in
their best finery. Looking at them, Anna felt her spirits sink again. She should
never have come. Then her father's voice sounded clearly in her head.

Don't worry, Anna. Just be yourself.

                                   *   *   *

It was almost an  hour before their boat  drew up alongside the  stone jetty and
they  climbed the  dark granite  steps, up  onto the  marble-flagged  forecourt.
Facing them was the carved stone gate that surrounded the massive doorway.

Anna had seen K'veer  by day and it  had seemed a strange  yet pleasant edifice,
but  at  night it  seemed  a wholly  forbidding  place. As  they  approached the
doorway, Aitrus came alongside her.

"Forgive  me,  Ah-na,"  he  said  quietly,  "but  we  must  conform  to  certain
formalities. When we are inside, you will  draw back and wait a moment while  my
father and I are greeted. Then it will be your turn."

Inside the great atrium, Anna did as she was told, holding back beside Tasera as
Aitrus and his father stepped forward and were presented by the Chief Steward to
Rakeri and his son.

Anna saw once more that  curious taking of both hands  that was the D'ni way  of
greeting, the fingers linked; witnessed the smiles, the easy banter between  the
two sets of men, and knew that this  was a world she would never enter, book  or
no book.

As Kahlis turned, Tasera nudged her gently. "Ah-na."

Veovis was smiling pleasantly, his attention  half on what was being said,  half
on greeting  the next  guests. As  he looked  across and  his eyes met hers, the
smile faded. There was a moment's consideration and then he turned to Kahlis.

"Forgive me, Master Kahlis, but might I have a word with you, in private?"

Kahlis looked to his son, then shrugged. "Of course, Veovis."

Veovis turned and bowed to Rakeri. "If you would forgive us a moment, Father?  I
shall not be long."

Tasera and Anna had stopped, yards distant of Lord Rakeri. As Veovis and  Kahlis
walked away,  Aitrus stared  after them,  perturbed. Rakeri  himself was  simply
mystified.

There was  an embarrassed  silence. Rakeri  looked to  Tasera and smiled weakly.
Aitrus simply stared at the door through which Veovis and his father had passed.
A  moment  later  the  two  men  returned,  his  father  clearly  embarrassed by
something. Coming over to Aitrus, he drew him aside.

"It seems there has been a  misunderstanding," he began. "I took the  invitation
to include our house guest, Ah-na, but it was not meant so."

Aitrus, who had been  listening to his father's  words, glanced over at  Veovis,
who stood beside his father, wearing a determined look.

"A misunderstanding?"  Aitrus tried  to keep  calm, tried  not to  let his anger
show.

"Yes," Kahlis said. "Ah-na can stay here, in the house. Veovis has promised that
his servants  will make  sure she  has everything  she wants.  But she cannot go
through into Ader Jamat."

"Why not?"

Kahlis raised a hand, bidding him be silent. "Because she is not D'ni."

Aitrus felt the anger boil up inside him. Keeping his voice low, he leaned close
to Kahlis. "This is not right, Father."

"Maybe," Kahlis conceded, "but it is Lord Veovis's decision who enters his  Age,
not ours, and we must respect that."

"I see."

"I'm glad you do. Now will you tell her, Aitrus?"

Aitrus stared  back at  him a  moment, then  looked down.  "You must forgive me,
Father. I respect you deeply, and love you, but in this I must disobey you. This
is wrong."

"Aitrus ..."

But Aitrus turned and walked across  to where Rakeri and Veovis stood.  "Forgive
me, Lord Rakeri, but I have been suffering from an illness these past few weeks.
It haS left me feeling rather weak ... light-headed." He glanced at Veovis,  who
was watching him hawkishly now. "I feel it coming on now, and beg you to  excuse
me."

Rakeri, who  had no  idea what  was going  on, gave  a tiny  bow of his head. "I
commiserate, Aitrus, but maybe my house surgeon could help?"

"That is kind of you, my Lord, but I really ought to go home."

Rakeri shook his head, a look of  disappointment in his eyes. "I am sorry  about
that. I had hoped to talk with you."

Aitrus bowed low,  then turned to  Veovis. "And may  good fortune shine  down on
you, Veovis.  I am  sorry that  I cannot  be there  for the  celebration of your
Korfah V'ja."

There was a  black anger now  behind Veovis's eyes,  yet if he  felt like saying
something, he kept it well in check. He nodded curtly.

Aitrus stood there a moment longer, wondering whether something more ought to be
said; then, knowing that  the situation was irreparable,  he turned on his  heel
and walked across to where Anna stood beside his mother.

"Aitrus," Tasera said,  her curiosity almost  overwhelming her by  now, "what is
going on?"

"Ah-na and  I are  leaving," he  said, making  no attempt  to explain how things
were. "Ask Father."

Anna was staring at him now, bemused. "Aitrus? What's happening?"

"Later," he said, then took her arm and turned her, leading her out through  the
gathered ranks ofguildsmen and their families, heading back toward the boat.

                                   *   *   *

Aitrus was standing at the stern of the boat, chewing on a thumbnail and staring
back at the great rock of K'veer as it slid into the darkened distance.

"You do not want to know."

Anna, sitting  just below  him, let  out an  exasperated sigh.  "I am not blind,
Aitrus. I saw how Veovis looked at you."

"There was a misunderstanding."

Anna waited, conscious of how pained he was by all this. After a moment he spoke
again.

"He said you were not invited."

"Ah ... I see."

"He said it was because you were not D'ni."

"That much is undeniable."

Aitrus was silent  a moment, then,  "It was an  impossible situation, Ah-na.  He
made me choose."

"And you chose me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because he was not right to make me choose."

                                   *   *   *

Anna  was dressing  the next  morning when  there was  a hammering  on the  door
downstairs. It was  still very early  and it was  unusual for anyone  to call at
this hour. Going over to her door, she opened it a crack, listening.

There was a murmured exchange between Kahlis and his steward. Then,

"Here? Are you sure?"

There was silence for a moment, then:

"Lord Veovis! Welcome! To what do we owe this most pleasant surprise?"

"I have come to see your son. Master Kahlis. Is he at home?"

"He is. I shall go and see if he has risen. If you would take a seat, meanwhile.
I'll not be long."

A  hand briefly  brushed her  arm. She  turned, her  heart thumping,  and  found
herself staring into Aitrus's face.

"Aitrus!"

"Will you come down with me, Ah-na?"

She hesitated, then shook her head. "This is between you two."

"No. This is about you, Ah-na. You ought to be there."

                                   *   *   *

Veovis stood as they stepped into the room.

"Aitrus,"  he said,  coming across  the room,  both hands  extended. "Will   you
forgive me?"

Aitrus took his hands, tentatively at first, then with a greater firmness.

"That depends."

"I understand. I handled things badly. I  know that, and I am sorry for  it." He
looked past Aitrus to where Anna stood.  "And you, Ah-na. I owe you an  apology,
too."

"You do, indeed," Aitrus said sternly.

Veovis nodded, accepting the rebuke. "Yes. And that is why I have brought you  a
present. To try to make amends."

He turned and, going back across, picked  up a box and brought it back,  handing
it to Anna. It was a small, square box with tiny airholes in one side of it.

She stared at it a moment, then untied the bright red ribbon and lifted the  lid
... and then looked up at Veovis, laughing.

"Why, it's beautiful! What is it?"

Carefully, cupping it in  one hand, she lifted  out a tiny creature-a  veritable
fur ball, its  long silky coat  the dark, brown-black  of rich loam.  Its large,
cobalt-colored eyes stared up at her.

"It is a reekoo," Veovis said. "It comes from Ader Jamat."

Aitrus, who had turned to look, now smiled. "Thank you. It was a kind thought."

Veovis  sighed, then,  somberly. "I  am sorry  you were  not there  last  night,
Aitrus."

"And I. Yet we must resolve this matter, no?"

Anna, who was stroking the rippled,  leathery neck of the tiny creature,  looked
up, glancing from one to the other. So it was not settled, even now.

Veovis took a long breath, then  nodded. "Tonight," he said. "Come to  my rooms.
We'll talk about it then."

                                   *   *   *

It was very late when he came back that night. Anna waited Up, listening as  his
footsteps came up the stairs. As he  made to pass her room, she opened  the door
and stepped out.

"Aitrus?" she whispered.

Aitrus turned. He looked weary.

"Is everything all right now?"

He stared at  her, then, "You  had better come  to my study,  Ah-na. We need  to
talk."

The words seemed ominous. Anna nodded, then followed him down the long  corridor
and into his room.

"Well?" she asked, as she took a chair, facing him.

Aitrus shrugged. "I am afraid Veovis is intractable."

"Intractable? In what way? You are friends again, are you not?"

"Perhaps. But he will not bend on one important matter."

"And that is?"

Aitrus looked  down glumly.  "He says  that as  you are  not D'ni,  he will  not
countenance you  going into  an Age,  no, nor  of learning  anything about  D'ni
books. He claims it is not right."

"Then you said nothing of our visit to Ko'ah?"

Aitrus hesitated, then shook his head.

"Can I ask why? It is unlike you to be so indirect."

"Maybe. But I had no will to fight Veovis a second time."

"So did you promise him anything?"

"No. I said only that I would consider what he said."

"And was that enough for him?"

"For now."

She stared at him a moment, then, "So what have you decided?"

His eyes met hers again. "Can I hide nothing from you, Ah-na?"

"No. But then you have had little practice in hiding what you feel from  people,
Aitrus."

Aitrus stared  at her  for a  long time,  then sighed.  "So you  think I  should
abandon my plan?"

"Your plan?"

In answer, he opened the top right-hand  drawer of his desk and took out  a big,
leather-bound book. It was  a book-a D'ni book-she  could see that at  a glance.
But when he opened it,  there was no box on  the front right-hand page, and  the
inside pages were blank.

She stared at it. "What is it?"

"It is a Kortee'nea," he said. "A blank book, waiting to be written."

Anna looked up, her mouth falling open slightly.

"I have had it for a year now," he answered. "I have been making notes toward an
Age. One I myself am writing. And I thought... well, I thought that perhaps  you
might like to help me. But now ..."

She saw what he meant. There was  a choice. Defy Veovis and lie about  what they
were doing, or go along with Veovis's wishes and deny themselves this.

"And what do you  want, Aitrus?" she asked  quietly, her dark eyes  probing his.
"What do you really want?"

"I want to teach you everything," he said. "Everything I know."

                                   *   *   *

In the  months that  followed, the  relationship between  Aitrus and  Veovis was
strained. As if both sensed that all  was not well between them, they kept  much
to themselves.  It was  a situation  that could  not last  long, however,  and a
chance remark to  Veovis by a  young man from  the Guild of  Maintainers brought
things to a head once more.

Aitrus  was in  his rooms  at the  Guild Hall,  when Veovis  burst in  upon  him
unannounced.

"Is it true?" Veovis demanded, leaning across the desk.

Aitrus stared at his  old friend in amazement.  Veovis's face was suffused  with
anger. The muscles stood out at his neck.

"Is what true?"

"The girl ...  the outsider ...  are you teaching  her to Write?  How could you,
Aitrus! After all you promised!"

"I promised nothing. I said only that I would consider your words."

"That's pure sophistry, and  you know it! You  lied to me, Aitrus.  You lied and
deceived me. And not only me, but D'ni itself!"

"Now come," Aitrus said, standing.

"You are a traitor, Aitrus!  And you can be sure  I shall be taking this  matter
before the Council!"

And with  that Veovis  turned and  stormed from  the room.  Aitrus stood there a
moment,  half in  shock, staring  at the  open doorway.  Since the   Maintainers
inspection two weeks back he had  feared this moment. Veovis wouldn't go  to the
Council,  surely? But  he knew  Veovis. His  friend was  not one  to make   idle
threats.

                                   *   *   *

Anna sat in the  window of her room,  the tiny reekoo asleep  in her lap as  she
gazed out over the ancient city and the harbor far below.

They had come  that morning-six uniformed  guards from the  Guild of Maintainers
and the great  Lord R'hira himself.  Kahlis and Aitrus  had greeted them  at the
door, then stood back as Guild Master Sijarun walked through and opened the door
to the Book Room, removing both  the Book ofKo'ah and the new,  uncompleted book
that had no name.

The decision of the Council had been unanimous-Kahlis and his son were given  no
voice in the matter. It had been  ruled that there had been a serious  breach of
protocol. In future, no one who was not of D'ni blood would be allowed to see  a
Book or  visit an  Age. It  was, Veovis  had argued,  important that  they set a
precedent. And so they had.

Anna sighed. It was all  her fault. And now Aitrus  was in despair. Even now  he
sat in his study, wrestling with the  question of whether to resign his seat  on
the Council.

She had seen Kahlis's face, and Tasera's.  To lose a Book, Aitrus had once  told
her, was a matter of the gravest importance, but to have one taken forcibly,  by
order of the Council,  was far, far worse.  And she had brought  that upon them.
She groaned softly.

There was no way she might make amends. No way, unless ...

                                   *   *   *

The old  man looked  across at  Anna, staring  at her  through half-lidded eyes,
then, pulling his cloak about him, he answered her.

"I do not know," he said, shaking  his head sadly.  "I really do not  know. Even
if we find something ..."

"They will listen. They have to listen."

Kedri, Master  of the  Guild of  Legislators, lifted  his shoulders  in a shrug.
Then, with a sad smile, "All right.  I shall try my best, young Ah-na.  For you,
and for my dear friend Aitrus."

He sat there for a long time  after she had gone, staring straight ahead,  as if
in a trance. It was thus that his assistant, Haran, found him.

"Master? Are you all right?"

Kedri slowly lifted  his head, his  eyes focusing on  the young man.  "What? Oh,
forgive me, Haran. I was far away. Remembering."

Haran smiled and  bowed his head.  "I just came  to say that  the new intake  of
cadets is here. A dozen keen young students, fresh from the academy. What  shall
I do with them?"

Normally, Kedri  would have  found them  some anodyne  assignment-an exercise in
dust-dry law, overseen by some bored assistant or other-but the arrival of  this
new intake coincided perfectly with his need.

If he was to search back through the records, he would need help-and what better
help than a dozen keen young men,  anxious to impress him? At the same  time, he
needed to be discreet.  If word of his  activities got back to  the Council, who
knew what fuss might ensue, particularly if young Lord Veovis got wind of it? By
assigning these  cadets to  the Guild  Age of  Gadar-to search  among the  legal
records stored in the Great Library there-he could split two rocks with a single
blow, as the old saying went.

"Take them to the Book Room," he  said. "I'll address them there. I have  a task
for them."

Haran stared  back at  him a  moment, surprised,  then, recollecting himself, he
bowed low and quickly hurried away.

It was strange that the girl, Ah-na, had come to him this morning, for only  the
evening before he had dreamt of the time he had spent with the Surveyors  thirty
years ago. It was then that he  had first come to know young Aitrus.  Aitrus had
been assigned to him-to show him  how things worked and answer his  every query.
They had got on well from the start and had been friends ever since.

As far  as Ah-na  was concerned,  he had  met her  only once before, when Aitrus
brought her to his house,  but he had liked her  instantly, and saw at once  why
Aitrus was fascinated by  her. She had a  sharp intelligence and an  inquisitive
mind that were the match of any guildsmen. It had crossed his mind at once that,
had she been D'ni, she would have made young Aitrus the perfect bride.

Even so, it  surprised him still  that she had  come and not  Aitrus, for he had
half-expected Aitrus to pay him a call.

Kedri sat back, stretching his neck muscles and then turning his head from  side
to side, trying to relieve the tension he was feeling.

What he had agreed to  do would not make him  a popular man in certain  circles,
yet it had been a simple choice: to help his young friend Aitrus or abandon him.

Kedri sighed heavily. The Great Library of Legislation on Gadar contained a mass
of information stretching back  over six thousand years-the  handwritten minutes
of countless Council meetings and  hearings, of guild committees and  tribunals,
not to  speak of  the endless  shelves of  private communications  between Guild
Masters. It would be like digging for one specific tiny crystal in the middle of
a mountain.

And he had two weeks and a dozen keen young men to do it.

                                   *   *   *

Lord Eneah  sat at  his desk,  Aitrus's cloak  of office  lay folded on the desk
before  him. It  had come  that morning,  along with  that of  Aitrus's  father,
Kahlis. Eneah had dealt with Kahlis, sending the cloak back to the Grand  Master
of the Surveyors. Whatever the rights or wrongs of the issue, Kahlis was clearly
not to blame. But Aitrus's conduct was a different matter entirely.

It was fairly  simple, really. Either  he accepted Aitrus's  resignation now and
ended the rumors and speculation, or he left matters to the Guild of  Surveyors,
who, so he understood, had already instigated investigations into the conduct of
their representative.

Whatever happened  now, the  damage was  already done.  The vote  in Council had
betrayed the mood of the guilds.  In teaching the outsider D'ni, and  in showing
her  an Age,  Aitrus had  not merely  exceeded his  brief, but  had shown   poor
judgment. Some even claimed that he had been bewitched by the young girl and had
lost  his senses,  but Eneah  doubted that.  Those who  said that  did not  know
Aitrus.

Yet Aitrus had been injudicious.

Eneah straightened slightly. He had not slept at all last night and every  joint
ached as if it had been dipped in hot oil, but that was not unusual. These  days
he lived in constant pain.

With a small,  regretful sigh, he  drew a sheet  of paper to  him and, taking  a
quill pen from the inkstand, quickly wrote an acceptance letter then signed  his
name. Once the remaining  Lords had set their  names to it, the  letter would be
sealed and incorporated into the public record. In the meantime, a notice  would
be posted throughout D'ni, advising the citizens of this news.

And so ended a promising career.

Eneah reached across and rang his summons bell. At once a secretary appeared  at
the door.

"Take this to Lord R'hira at once."

                                   *   *   *

Anna stood before the three of them.

"So you wish to leave?" Kahlis asked.

"No," she answered. "You have all been kind to me. Yet I feel I ought to. I have
brought so much trouble to this household."

"The choice was mine," Aitrus said. "If anyone should leave, it should be me."

"That would be  wrong," Anna said.  "Besides, I shall  be comfortable enough  at
Lord Eneah's mansion."

"Nonsense!" Tasera  said, speaking  for the  first time  since Anna had summoned
them to this meeting. "I will not hear of it! Lord Eneah is an old man! No.  You
will stay here!"

Anna stared at Tasera, astonished. She had thought Tasera most of all would have
wanted  her  gone.  Since  the  Council's  meeting  she  had  been   practically
ostracized. Yet Tasera seemed by far the most indignant of the three.

"Then it is  settled," Kahlis said,  smiling proudly at  his wife, "Ah-na  stays
here, as family."

                                   *   *   *

It was an ancient book, great whorls of faded color dotting the pale gray of its
musty leather cover like  dusty jewels. Looking down  at it, Guild Master  Kedri
found himself smiling. Until yesterday it had remained unread upon its shelf for
close on nineteen hundred years.

Kedri looked up  at Anna, who  sat to one  side of the  desk, then addressed the
young man. "Forgive me, Guildsman, but how exactly did you find this? It is  not
as if this lay directly on the path of our main search."

The young man bowed his head nervously, then spoke. "It was something you  said,
Master Kedri. Last night, at supper. You know, about trying to identify possible
factors in the search."

"Go on."

"It got me  thinking. Master, asking  myself just what  kind of person  might be
granted access to an Age. That is, what kind ofnon-D'ni person, naturally."

"And?"

"Well... my first thought was that such  a person would have to have the  ear of
someone important-someone very important, indeed, perhaps even one of the  Five.
And so I went to the list of clerks ..."

"Clerks?"

"To the Five."

"Ah ... and what did that give you?"

The young man smiled. "Six names."

Already Kedri was ahead of him. "Names that were not D'ni, I presume."

"Yes, Master. There was a time when some of the more talented natives-from Guild
Ages and the like-were permitted to come here, into D'ni itself."

Kedri raised an eyebrow. "Now that I did not know."

"No, Master, for it was a very long time ago, very shortly after the Council was
first set up in its present form, not long after the Age of Kings."

"I see. And these clerks ... were they restricted to D'ni, or were they  granted
access to other Ages?"

The guildsman  nodded at  the book  before Kedri.  "I have  marked the  relevant
passages, Master. I am sure there are further entries in the other books."

There was a small pile of books on the floor behind the young guildsman.

Anna felt a  tingle of excitement  pass through her.  She stood and,  crouching,
lifted one of the books and opened it, sniffing in the scent of great age as  it
wafted up to her off the

page-It  was  an  old  script,  different  in  several  ways  from  its   modern
counterpart, yet easily decipherable. In several places the ink had faded almost
to nothing, yet the meaning of the text was quite clear.

Anna looked across at Kedri and nodded, a feeling of deep satisfaction  flooding
her at that moment.

"It is not too old then. Master?" the young guudsman asked. "I thought, perhaps,
that its age might possibly invalidate it."

"A precedent  is a  precedent," Kedri  said, looking  to Anna,  then reading the
passage once again. "We shall find further sources to verify this, no  doubt-and
further instances, I warrant."

He closed the book, then nodded. "You have done well, Guildsman."

"Thank you, Master," the young man answered, bowing low, a great beam of a smile
on his face.

"Thank you, Guildsman ..."

"Neferus, Master. Guildsman Neferus."

                                   *   *   *

What  had taken  the full  vote of  the Council  to decide,  took but  a  single
signature to revoke.

As Lord Eneah pushed the document away, he felt a great weight slip from him. He
was glad Master Kedri had found what  he had found, for he had never  felt quite
at ease with the decision, yet looking up, he saw in his mind the closed face of
Lord Rakeri, and knew that all the Five were not as pleased as he.

The Books would be returned to Master Kahlis, and Ah-na would be free to  travel
in them. Yet all was not quite as  it had been. Aitrus still refused to take  up
his vacated role as representative of the Guild of Surveyors. He said he had had
enough of votes and meetings, and maybe he was right. And as for Veovis ...

Eneah dropped the pen back into the inkstand and leaned back, weary now that  it
was all over.

Young Veovis had called on him earlier that day, determined to have his say.  He
had not  been rude,  nor had  he challenged  in any  way the  validity of Master
Kedri's  discoveries,  yet  it  was  clear  that  he  resented  the Legislator's
intrusion in Council matters, and was dead set against allowing Ah-na entry into
any D'ni Age. He  had ended by begging  Lord Eneah to set  the ancient precedent
aside and endorse the Council's decision, but Eneah had told him he could not do
that.

The law was the law, after all. Precedent was precedent. It was the D'ni way and
had been for a thousand generations.

And so Veovis had  left, under a cloud,  angry and resentful, and  who knew what
trouble would come of that?

But so it  is, Eneah thought,  looking about him  at the empty  study. No single
man, however mat or powerful, is more important than D'ni.

He smiled, knowing that soon he would be little more than a name, another statue
in the Great Hall of the Lords.

"So it is," he said quietly. "And so it must be. Until the end of time."

And with that he stood, walked across the room and out, moving slowly, silently,
like a shadow on the rock.




PART FOUR
GEMEDET

Anna waited, crouched just in front of Aitrus in the narrow tunnel, looking  out
into the bottom of the well. Just  below her, the surface of the tiny,  circular
pool was black. Slowly, very slowly, sunlight crept down the smooth, black  wall
facing her, a pure light, almost unreal it seemed so bright, each separate shaft
a solid, shining bar in that penum-bral darkness.

It was cool and silent, yet overhead, far above the surface, the sun  approached
its zenith.

"Wait..." Aitrus said softly. "Just a moment longer."

The sunlight touched  the still, curved  edge of the  water. A moment  later the
water's depths  were breached,  the straight  beam bent,  refracted by the clear
liquid.

Anna gasped. It was beautiful. The well  had a solid wooden lid, but Aitrus  had
cut an intricate  design into the  wood. As the  sun climbed directly  above the
well, so each part of that design was slowly etched upon the dark circle of  the
pool, until the whole of it could be seen, burning like shafts of brilliant fire
in the cool, translucent depths of the water.

The D'ni word Shorah. "Peace."

Anna smiled and turned to look at  Aitrus, seeing how the word was reflected  in
the black centers of his pupils.

So that's what you were doing," she said quietly. "I wondered."

She  turned back,  knowing, without  needing to  be told,  that its  beauty  was
transient, would be gone just as soon  as the sun moved from its zenith  and the
sunlight climbed the wall again.

"I made it for you," he said.

I know, she thought. Aloud, she said, "Thank you. It's beautiful."

"Isn't it?"

They watched, together in the silence, until, with a final, glittering wink, the
brightness in the pool was gone.

Anna stared into the blackness and sighed.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, after a moment.

"I was thinking of my father."

"Ah ..." He was silent a long while, then, "Come. Let's go back up."

Anna turned  and followed,  half-crouched as  she walked  along the tiny tunnel,
then straightening to climb the twisting flight of steps that had been cut  from
the rock. Aitrus had worked weeks on this. And all for that one small instant of
magic.

A tiny shiver passed through her.  She watched him climb the steps  ahead other,
noticing how neatly his  hair was clipped at  his neck, how strong  his back and
arms were, how broad his shoulders, and realized just how familiar he had become
these last few years.

As familiar almost as this Age they had slowly built together.

Stepping out into the sunlight beside Aitrus, Anna smiled. It was so green.  All
she could see was  green. Forest and grasslands,  wood and plain. Why,  even the
slow, meandering rivers were green with trailing weed.

Only the sky was blue. A deep,  water-heavy blue. In the distance a great,  raft
of huge white clouds  drifted slowly from right  to left, their movement  almost
imperceptible, casting deep shadows on the hills and valleys below.

It had all seemed strange at first, after the desert landscape she had known all
her life. So  strange, that she  had spent hours  simply staring at  the clouds,
fascinated by them.

She looked to Aitrus. He was wearing  his D'ni glasses now, to protect his  eyes
against the glare of the sun. They all wore them when not in D'ni. Only she  did
not have to.

"We should go north  next," she said. "To  the mountains. I could  map chat area
beyond the lake."

Aitrus smiled. "Perhaps. Or maybe that long valley to the northeast of here."

She looked down, smiling,  knowing exactly why he  was interested in that  area.
They  had  passed through  it  several weeks  ago  on their  way  back from  the
peninsula and had noticed signs of long-dormant volcanic activity. She had  seen
the tiny gleam of interest in his eyes.

"If you want."

They walked on, talking as they  went, continuing the discussion they had  begun
earlier that day.  Wherever they went,  they talked, making  observations on the
physical signs of this world, and debating which small changes to the words  and
phrasing might have caused this effect or that.

Sometimes Aitrus would stop, crouch down with the notepad balanced on his  knee,
and would write down something he or she had said, wanting to capture it,  ready
to enter it in  the book of commentary  they had begun six  months back. Already
they had filled  half the great  ledger with their  observations, and each  .day
they added to it, with words and maps and drawings.

A long slope led to the encampment,  which was sighted at the head of  a verdant
valley. To one  side of that  grassy plateau, the  earth had folded  and a great
slab of smooth  black rock jutted  from the green.  Just above it  a slow-moving
river pooled, then fell sheer two hundred  feet to the valley floor in a  clear,
narrow curtain.

The sound of the falls was  ever-present, a counterpoint to the exotic,  echoing
cries of birds from  the wood that climbed  the steep slope behind  them. To the
north were mountains, to the south the great ocean.

It was a beautiful place.

Aitrus's tent  was to  the left  of the  camp, its  long frame  of green  canvas
blending  with the  background. A  smaller, circular  tent, its  canvas a  vivid
yellow, stood just beside  and was used for  stores. Until a week  ago there had
been a third tent, the twin of  Aitrus's, but now that the cabin was  habitable,
Anna had moved  in. It was  not finished yet-Aitrus  had yet to  cut and fit the
wooden floor-but the roof  was on and it  was dry. Beside Anna's  section, which
was screened off, Aitrus had set up  a temporary lab, which they planned to  use
until they had built a proper, permanent laboratory a little way farther up  the
slope.

They walked across.  A trestle table  stood just outside  Aitrus's tent, in  the
shadow of the canvas awning. On top of it, its corners held down by tiny  copper
weights, was the  map Anna had  been working on  earlier, a clear  thin cover of
D'ni polymer laid over it in case of rain.

The map was remarkably detailed, a color key on the right-hand side of the sheet
making sense of the intricate pattern of colors on the map itself. Areas of  the
sheet were blank, where they had not yet surveyed the land, but where they  had,
Anna had  provided a  vivid guide  to it-one  that not  only made  sense of  its
essential  topography  but also  gave  a clue  to  the types  of  soil and  thus
vegetation that overlay the deeper rock formations. It was all, she said,  using
one of her father's favorite terms, "a question of edaphology."

Maybe it was because she was from the surface, but her grasp of how the kind  of
rock affected the visible  features of the land  was far more refined  than his,
almost instinctive. Often she did not have to analyze a rock sample but knew  it
by its feel, its color and its  texture. His instinct was for the pressures  and
stresses  within  the  rock  that provided  what  one  saw  with its  underlying
structure.

At first  it had  astonished Aitrus  that she  had known  so much  of rocks  and
minerals and the complex art of mapping the rock, and even when he learned  more
other father  and how  she had  helped him,  he was  still amazed  that she  had
grasped quite so much in so brief a time. Yet as the weeks went on, his surprise
had turned to delight, knowing that here at last was someone with whom he  might
share his lifelong fascination with the rock.

It  was not  long before  he had  begun to  teach her  the D'ni  names for   the
different types of rock  and the terms his  people used to describe  the various
geological processes.  Anna learned  easily and  was soon  fluent enough to hold
those conversations  which, through  to today,  had never  ceased between  them.
After a  while Aitrus  had begun  to push  her, testing  her, as  if to find the
limits of her intelligence, but it seemed  there were no bounds to what she  was
capable of.

Right now,  however, the  two of  them stood  beside the  trestle table.  Aitrus
studied the  half-completed map  a moment  then tapped  an area  in the top left
corner with his forefinger.

"We could start here, Ah-na, where the  river bends and drops. It would give  us
the opportunity to  map all of  this area to  the west of  the river. That would
take, what? Two days?"

Anna studied the blank area on her map and nodded. "Two. Three at most."

"Three it is. We could take the tent  and camp there. Then we could spend a  day
or two exploring the valley. There are cave systems there. Did you see them?"

Anna smiled. "I saw."

"Good. And once we've finished there, we could come back here and spend a couple
of days writing things up."

"Can the guild spare you that long?"

"If they need me urgently, they'll send someone. But I doubt it. Things are slow
at  present, and  until the  Guild of  Miners present  their report  on the  new
excavation,  that  is  how  it  will remain.  We  might  as  well  use the  time
fruitfully."

"Aitrus?"

"Yes?"

"Can we set out a little later tomorrow? In the afternoon, perhaps?"

"You want to see the well again?"

Anna nodded.

"All right.  I guess  it will  take most  of the  morning to  pack what we need,
anyway."

She smiled.  That was  so like  Aitrus. Rather  than admit  to indulging her, he
would always find some excuse to let her have her way.

"And Aitrus?"

He turned, clearly distracted. "Yes?"

"Oh, nothing ... Nothing important, anyway."

*   *   *

That evening it  rained; a warm,  heavy rain that  thundered on the  roof of the
cabin and filled the valley like a huge, shimmering mist of silver.

Anna stepped out into  the downpour, raising her  arms, her head back,  savoring
the feel of the rain against her skin.

Just across from her, Aitrus peeked out  from his tent and, seeing what she  was
doing, called out to her.

"Ah-na! What are you doing? You'll be soaked to the skin!"

Laughing, she turned to face him, then, on whim, began to dance, whirling around
and around, her bare feet flying across the wet grass.

"Ah-na!"

She stopped, facing him, then put a hand out.

"Come, Aitrus! Join me!"

Aitrus hesitated, then, reluctantly, yet  smiling all the same, he  stepped out.
Almost instantly he was soaked, his hair plastered to his head.

He took her hand.

"Come!"  she said,  her eyes  shining brightly,  excitedly, "let's  dance!"  And
without warning, she began to whirl him around and around beneath the open  sky,
the light from the  hanging lanterns in front  of the cabin turning  the fall of
rain into a cascade of silver.

Exhilarated, Aitrus  whooped loudly,  then stopped  dead. He  was laughing,  his
whole face alive as she had never seen it before.

"Isn't  it wonderful?"  she asked,  almost shouting  against the  noise of   the
downpour.

"Marvelous!"  he shouted  back, then,  unexpectedly, he  grabbed her  close  and
whirled around and around again,  until, giddy from their circling,  he stopped,
swaying and coughing and laughing.

Anna, too,  was laughing.  She put  her head  back, drinking  in the pure, clean
water from the sky. Rain! The wonder of rain!

*   *   *

Anna stood behind  the -wooden partition,  toweling her hair.  Outside, the rain
still fell, but now it could be heard only as a oentle, murmuring patter against
the roof. Soon the storm would pass.

She had  changed into  a dry,  woolen dress  of cyan  blue, her  favorite color,
fastened at the waist with a simple cord.

Folding the towel,  she dropped it  onto the end  of her pallet  bed then turned
full circle, looking about her. There were books wherever she looked, on shelves
and  surfaces,  and,  on  the narrow  wooden  table  in  the corner,  scientific
equipment, the polished brasswork gleaming in the lamplight.

Anna sighed,  feeling a  real contentment.  For the  first time  in a long, long
while, she was happy.

To be honest, she had never worked so hard, nor felt so good. Before Aitrus  had
asked her to work with  him on the creation of  this Age, she had felt  useless,
but now ...

Now she had a problem.

Anna sat on the edge of her low bed, staring at the bare earth floor. Perhaps it
was the  dance. Perhaps  it was  that glimpse  of Aitrus,  happy just as she was
happy. Was that an illusion? Was it a transient thing? Or could it last?

And besides ...

There was a  knock on the  door of the  cabin. Anna looked  up, startled. It was
Aitrus's habit to spend an hour at this time writing up his journal for the day.

"Come in."

Aitrus stepped inside, his right hand drawing his dark hair back from his brow.

"I wondered if you were all right."

She smiled up at him. "I'm fine. It was only rain."

Aitrus stood there a moment, hesitant,  not sure just what to say,  then: "Would
you like a game of Cmtdct? "

"All right."

He grinned,  then nodded  and turned  away, returning  to the  tent to bring the
grid. Smiling, Anna stood, then went across to clear a space on the table.

Gemedet, or six-in-a-line, was  the most popular of  D'ni games. She had  seen a
close variant of the game in Tadjinar, played by the Chinese merchants, but  the
D'ni version was played not  on a two-dimensional board  but on a complex  three
dimensional grid, nine squares to a side.

It was, she  thought, the perfect  game for a  race embedded in  the rock, whose
thinking was not lateral but spatial.

Aitrus returned a  moment later, setting  the grid down  on the table.  It was a
beautiful thing, of hand-carved lilac  jade, as delicate-looking as a  honeycomb
yet strong. Strong  enough to have  survived a thousand  games without a  single
chip or blemish.

The base  of the  grid was  a polished  hemisphere of  topaz on  which the  grid
revolved smoothly. Long,  silver tweezers, called  re'dantee, were used  to slip
the playing pieces into place, while the pieces themselves were simple  polished
ovoids of green tourmaline and dark red almandine.

Both the  re'dantee and  the "stones"  were kept  in a  velvet-lined box,  which
Aitrus now opened, placing it on the table beside the grid, so that both of them
could easily reach it.

Anna smiled. She had fallen in love with the set at first sight.

They sat, facing each other across the table. As ever, Anna went first, slipping
her first "stone" into place, deep in the heart of the grid, giving.herself  the
maximum of options.

For an hour  or more they  played, in total  silence, each concentrating  on the
pattern of the  stones. After a  while the patter  of rain on  the roof stopped.
Night birds called in  the darkness of the  woods outside. Inside the  game went
on, beneath the lantern's light.

Finally, she saw that she had lost.  Aitrus had only to place a single  stone in
the bottom left-hand corner and there was no way she could stop him making six.

Anna looked up and saw, by his smile, that he knew.

"Another game?"

She shook her head.  Was now the time  to speak? To tell  him what she had  been
thinking earlier?

"What is it?" he asked gently.

Anna looked down. "I'm tired, that's all."

"Are you sure?"

She gave a single  nod. It had been  a good day-an almost  perfect day-why spoil
it?

"Shall I pack the game away?" he asked, after a moment.

"No," she said, looking up at him and smiling; content now that she had decided.
"I'll do that  in the morning.  Besides, I want  to see how  you managed to beat
me."

Aitrus grinned. "Experience, that's all."

At that  moment, there  did not  seem to  be so  many years' difference in their
ages. In human terms, Aitrus was  old-as old, almost, as her father-but  in D'ni
terms he was still a very young man. Why, it was quite likely that he would live
another two centuries and more. But was that also why she was afraid to speak of
what she felt?

"I'll leave you, then," he said,  standing, the lamplight glinting in his  fine,
dark hair. "Good night. Sleep well, Ah-na."

"And you," she said, standing.

He smiled.  And then  he left,  leaving her  staring at  the door, the words she
wanted so much to say unsaid, while outside the night birds called, their  cries
echoing across the darkness of the valley.

*   *   *

The valley was a deep  gash in the surrounding land,  cut not by a river  but by
older, far more violent  processes. Bare rock jutted  from the slopes on  either
side, the folded pattern of its strata long exposed to the elements so that  the
softer rocks had been heavily eroded,  leaving great shelves of harder rock.  At
one end  of the  valley, in  the shadow  of a  particularly long shelf, were the
caves. It was there that they began their survey.

Anna knew what Aitrus was looking for, and it was not long before he found it.

"Ah-na! Come here! Look!"

She went across to where Aitrus was crouched in the deep shadow of the  overhang
and looked.

"Well?" he said, looking up at her triumphantly.

It was old and worn, but there was no doubting what it was. It was the  puckered
mouth  of a  diatreme-a volcanic  vent-formed long  ago by  high pressure  gases
drilling their way through the crustal rocks.

For the past two days they had  kept coming upon signs that there was  a volcano
somewhere close by.  Volcanic deposits had  been scattered all  about this area,
but this was the first vent they had found.

From the look of it the volcano was an old one, dormant for many centuries.

"I thought we'd made a stable world."

He smiled. "We did. But even stable worlds must be formed. Volcanoes are part of
the growing process of an Age. Even the best of worlds must have them!"

"So where is it?" she asked.

He stood, then turned, pointing straight through the rock toward the north.

"There, I'd guess."

"Do you want to go and look for it?"

Aitrus shrugged, then, "If you wouldn't mind."

Anna laughed. "Why should I? It's a volcano. Our volcano. Our first!"

He grinned, as if he  had not thought of that,  then nodded. "Come then. If  I'm
right, it can't be far."

*   *   *

The caldera  was still  visible, but  time and  weather had  worn it down. Trees
covered its shallow slopes  and filled the great  bowl of the volcano,  but here
and there the thin covering ofspil gave way to fissures and vents whose darkness
hinted at great depths.

It was old. Far older than  they had first thought. Not thousands,  but millions
of years old.

It was this part that Anna had taken a little while to grasp. The Ages to  which
they linked  were not  made by  them, they  already existed,  for the  making of
worlds was a process that took not months but long millennia. Aitrus, trying  to
make things absolutely clear to her, had summed it up thus:

"These Ages are worlds that do  exist, or have existed, or shall.  Providing the
description fits,  there is  no limitation  of time  or space.  The link is made
regardless."

And so, too,  this world of  theirs, their Age,  which they had  called Gemedet,
after the game. It, too, existed, or had existed, or would. But where it was  or
when they did not know.

Not that it mattered most of the time, but on occasion she did wonder just where
they were in the night sky, and when-whether at the beginning of the universe or
somewhere near the end of that vast process.

The very  thought of  it humbled  her, made  her understand  why her  father had
believed in a Maker who had fashioned it all. Having "written," having seen  the
great skill and subtlety involved merely in creating a link to these worlds, she
now found herself in awe of the  infinite care that had gone into the  making of
the originals to which their templates linked.

Personally, she could not  believe that blind process  had made it all.  It was,
for her,  quite inconceivable,  bearing in  mind the  complexity and  variety of
life. Yet in this, if nothing else, Aitrus differed from her. His was, or so  he
claimed,  a  more rational  approach,  more scientific-as  if  understanding the
product of such processes were a  key to understanding the why of  them existing
in the first place.

Aitrus  had  walked down  the  tree-strewn slope,  making  his way  between  the
boulders, until  he stood  beside one  of the  lareer vents.  Resting his^ ehest
against the sloping wall of the  vent he leaned out, peering into  the darkness.
For a moment he  was perfectly still, then  he turned his head,  looking back at
her through his D'ni glasses.

"Shall we go in?"

Anna smiled. "All right, but we'll need to bring a rope from the camp."

Aitrus grinned. "And lamps, and ..."

"... your notebook."

A look of perfect understanding passed between them. It was time to explore  the
volcano.

*   *   *

They got back to the encampment three days later than they had planned, to  find
that a message had been  delivered from D'ni. It lay  upon the map table in  its
dark blue waterproof wrapping.

While Anna  began to  stow away  their equipment,  Aitrus broke  the seal of the
package and took out the letter. He knew it was not urgent-they would have  sent
a Messenger into the Age to find him if it was-but it was unusual. Unfolding the
letter, he squinted at it through the lenses of his glasses. It was from his old
friend Kedri, and concerned a query Aitrus had put to him the last time they had
met for supper.

He read it through quickly, then,  smiling, he slipped the paper into  his tunic
pocket.

"Well?" Anna asked, coming alongside him. "Anything important?"

"No, but I need to go back."

"Should we pack?"

He shook his head.  "No. I only need  to be away an  hour or two. I'll  go later
tonight. You can stay here. I'll come back as soon as I can."

Anna smiled. "You should have a bath when you get back to D'ni."

"A bath?" He looked mock-offended. "Are you saying I smell, Ti'ana?"

"You positively reek  of sulphur!" she  said, grinning now.  "Like Old Beelzebub
himself.'"

He smiled at  that. In the  caves beneath the  caldera, she had  taught him much
about  the  mythology  and  gods of  the  surface,  including  the demons  whom,
according to many religions, lived in the regions beneath the earth.

"If only they knew the reality of it," she had said. "They'd be amazed."

It was  then that  he had  given her  her new  name-Ti'ana, which  in D'ni meant
"story-teller," as well as punning on her surface name. "Do you need me to  cook
you something before you go?"

"I'd rather you helped me sort those samples."

"All right," she said, her smile  broadening. "I'll do the tests, you  can write
up the notes."

*   *   *

Aitrus looked about him at the tent. All was neat and orderly. His notebook  was
open on the small table by his bed, the ink of the latest entry not yet dry.  It
was time to link back.

Anna was in her cabin. He would say goodnight to her, then go.

Aitrus went  outside and  stepped across  to the  cabin, knocking  softly on the
door.  Usually she  would call  out to  him, but  this time  there was  nothing.
Pushing the door open a little, he saw that she was not at her desk.

"Ti'ana?" he called softly. "Are you there?"

As  if  in  answer he  heard  her  soft snoring  from  behind  the thin,  wooden
partition. Slipping  inside, he  tiptoed across  and, drawing  back the curtain,
peered in.

Anna lay on her  side on the pallet,  facing him, her eyes  closed, her features
peaceful in sleep. The long journey  back from the valley had clearly  exhausted
her.  He  crouched,  watching her,  drinking  in  the sight  other.  She  was so
different from the women he had  known all his life-those strong yet  frail D'ni
women with their pale skin and long faces.

It had been more than two months ago, when they had made their first, and as yet
only, journey to the mountains north of the camp. On the way Anna had  collected
samples of various native flowers for  later study. Yet, coming upon the  wonder
of a snow-covered slope-the first  she had ever seen  or touched or walked  upon
she had taken  the blooms from  her pocket and  scattered their petals  over the
snow. He had asked her what she was doing, and she had shrugged.

"I  had to,"  she had  said, staring  at him.  Then, pointing  to the  scattered
petals, she had bid him look.

Aitrus closed  his eyes,  seeing them  vividly, their  bright shapes  and colors
starkly contrasted against the purity of the whiteness-like life and death.

It  was  then that  he  had decided,  and  every moment  since  had been  but  a
confirmation of that decision-an affirmation of  the feeling he had had at  that
moment, when, looking up from the petals,  he had seen her face shining down  at
him like the sun itself.

Aitrus opened his eyes and saw that  same face, occluded now in sleep, like  the
sun behind clouds, yet beautiful still. The most beautiful he had ever seen.  At
first  he  had  not thought  so,  but  time had  trained  his  eyes to  see  her
differently. He knew her now.

Aitrus stretched out his hand, tracing the contours of that sleeping face in the
air above it, a feeling of such tenderness pervading him that he found his  hand
trembling. He drew it  back, surprised by the  strength of what he  felt at that
moment. Overwhelming, it was, like the rush of water over a fall.

He nodded to himself, then stood. It was  time to go back to D'ni. Time to  face
his father, Kahlis.

*   *   *

"I cannot say that I have not half-expected this," Kahlis was saying, "but I had
hoped that you would, perhaps, have seen sense in time."

"I am sorry that you feel so. Father."

"Even if it is as you say, Aitrus, have you thought this through properly?  Have
you thought out  the full implications  of such a  union? She is  an outsider. A
surface-dweller. And you, Aitrus,  are D'ni-a Guild Master  and a member of  the
Council. Such a marriage is unheard of."

"Maybe so. Yet there is no legal impediment to it." Aitrus took the letter  from
his tunic pocket and  placed it on the  desk before his father.  "I asked Master
Kedri to look into the matter, and that is his expert opinion."

Kahlis took  the sheet  of paper  and unfolded  it. For  a moment he was silent,
reading it, then he looked up, his eyes narrowed.

"And the age difference, Aitrus? Have you considered that? Right now you are the
elder, but it will not always be so. Your life span is thrice hers. When you are
still in your prime she will be an old woman. Have you thought of that?"

"I have," he answered.  "Yet not to  have her-to have  never had her  by my side
that would be death indeed."

"And what if I said I was against the marriage?"

Aitrus merely stared at him.

Kahlis stood, then came around his desk.

"You will not accept my advice, Aitrus. But I shall give you my blessing.  That,
I hope, you will accept."

"Gladly!" Aitrus said,  then, reaching out,  he took his  father's hands in  the
D'ni way. "You will be proud of her, Father, I promise you!"

*   *   *

Aitrus linked back into the cave above the encampment. Stepping out, he saw that
nothing had changed. In the moonlight the camp looked peaceful, the tents to the
left, the cabin to the right. Beyond  and to the right the waterfall was  like a
sheet of silver, its constant noise lulling him.

Walking down between  the trees he  found that he  was whistling softly,  an old
D'ni song his  mother had once  sang to him.  He stopped, his  eyes going to the
cabin. There she slept. Ti'ana. His love.

"It cannot be wrong," he said quietly.

Aitrus felt a light  touch on his shoulder  and started. Turning, he  found Anna
standing there behind him. She was smiling, as if pleased by her little trick.

"What cannot be wrong?"

He swallowed. Now that the moment had  come, he was afraid of it. Yet  that fear
was natural, it was there to be overcome.

"You and I," he answered, taking her hands.

Her eyes went  down to where  their hands met,  then looked up  to meet his  own
again. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I wish to marry you."

Her eyes slowly widened. She stared at him silently, as if in wonder.

"Well?" he asked, when the waiting grew too much. "Will you marry me, Ti'ana?"

"I will," she said, her  voice so soft, so quiet,  that he felt at first  he had
imagined it.

"You will?"

Anna nodded, the faintest trace of a smile coming to her lips.

"You will!" He whooped,  then drew her close  and, for the first  time, embraced
her. Her  face was  suddenly close  to his,  less than  a hand's width away. The
sight of it sobered him.

"I will be  a good husband  to you, Ti'ana,  I promise. But  you must promise me
something."

"Promise what?"

"That you will  be my partner  in all things.  My helpmate and  companion, by my
side always, in whatever I do."

Slowly the  smile returned  to her  face. Then,  leaning toward  him, she gently
kissed him. "I promise."

*   *   *

Veovis  stormed into  the room,  slamming the  door behind  him. He  grabbed  an
inkwell from the desk  beside him and hurled  it across the room,  shattering it
into tiny fragments.

"Never!" he said, glaring across the empty room. "Not while there's breath  left
in my body!"

His father, Rakeri, had broken  the news to him an  hour back. Aitrus was to  be
betrothed. At first, if  anything, he had been  indifferent to the news.  He had
not even heard that Aitrus was seeing anyone. Then, abruptly, he had understood.
The girl! The surface-dweller!

Veovis stomped across the room and threw himself down into his chair, gnawing on
a thumbnail.

"Never!" he said again, the word hissing from him with a real venom.

His father  had explained  how the  Five had  been approached,  the documents of
precedent laid before  them. Again that  was Kedri's fault,  the traitor! Aitrus
need only go before the full Council now to receive their blessing, and that was
a formality.

Or had been, in the past.

Veovis  took  a long,  calming  breath, then  turned  his head,  staring  at the
shattered  fragments  of  glass as  if  he  dtd not  recognize  the  cause, then
shuddered.

Never.

*   *   *

Aitrus stood  before the  Five, at  the center  of the  great chamber.  All were
present. Lord R'hira had read out the formal request; now, all that remained was
for the Council to ratify the document.

R'hira stared at Aitrus  a moment, then looked  beyond him, his eyes  raking the
levels of the chamber.

"All those in favor?"

There  was a  chorus of  "Ayes," some  reluctant, others  enthusiastic. For  six
thousand years the question had been asked and answered thus.

Lord R'hira smiled.

"And those against?" he asked, the question a formality.

"Nay."

R'hira had already turned the paper facedown. He had been about to  congratulate
young Aitrus. But the  single voice brought him  up sharp. He stared  at Veovis,
where he sat not two spans behind where Aitrus was standing.

"I beg pardon. Guild Master Veovis?"

Veovis stood. "I said 'Nay.'"

R'hira's wizened face blinked. All five Lords were leaning forward now,  staring
at Veovis. This was unheard of.

"Could I possibly have your reasons, Master Veovis?"

Veovis's face was a  mask, expressionless. "I need  give no reason. I  am simply
against." And he sat, as if that was that.

As indeed it  was. The verdict  of Council had  to be unanimous  in this matter.
R'hira looked to  Aitrus. The young  man had his  head down, his  own expression
unreadable;  yet there  was a  tension to  his figure  that had  not been  there
before.

"Master Aitrus ..." he began, embarrassed. "It would seem..."

Aitrus looked up, his pale eyes hard like slate. "I understand, Lord R'hira. The
Council has turned down my request."

R'hira, marking the immense dignity with which Aitrus bore this  disappointment,
gave a reluctant nod. "So it is."

"Then I will trouble you no more, my Lords."

Aitrus bowed to each of the Five in turn, then, turning on his heel, walked from
the chamber, his head held high, not even glancing at Veovis as he passed.

*   *   *

"Aitrus! Come now, open the door!"

Tasera stood before the door to her  son's room, her husband just behind her  in
the shadows of the corridor.

When there was no answer, Tasera turned and looked to her husband. "Why did  you
not say something in Council, Kahlis?"

"I did," Kahlis said quietly, "but it made no difference."

"And is that  it, then?" she  asked, incredulous. "One  man says nay  and nay it
is?"

There was the grating metallic noise of the latch being drawn back, and then the
door eased open an inch.

Forgive me, Mother," Aitrus  said from within the  darkness of the room.  "I was
asleep."

"I heard what happened in Council," she said. "We need to discuss what should be
done."

"There's nothing can be done," he said. "The Council has given their answer."

No word, then, ofVeovis. No individual  blame. As if this were the  genuine will
of Council.

"Nonsense!" she said, angry  now. Pushing past him,  she went over to  the table
and lit the lamp.

Tasera turned, looking at him in the half light. Aitrus's face seemed gaunt,  as
if he had been ill,  but he was still, beneath  it all, the same strong  man she
had bred.

"I know you,  Aitrus. You are  a fighter. I  also know how  much Ti'ana means to
you. Now, will you bow before this decision, or will you fight?"

"Fight? How can I fight? And what can I fight with? Can I force Veovis to change
his mind? No. Neither he nor the  Council would allow it! And as for  persuasion
..."

"Then beg."

"Beg?"

"If Ti'ana means that much to you, go  to Lord Veovis and beg him to change  his
mind and grant you what you want. Go down on your knees before him if you  must,
but do not simply accept this."

"On my knees?" Aitrus stared at his mother, incredulous.

"Yes," she  said, standing  face-to-face with  him. "What  matters more  to you,
Aitrus? Your pride or your future happiness?"

"You want me to beg?"

Tasera shook her head. "You said  yourself: He will not be forced  or persuaded.
What other course is open to you?"

"Aitrus is right."

Both turned. Anna was standing in the doorway.

"Ti'ana, I..." Aitrus began, but she raised a hand to bid him be silent. "I know
what happened. Your father just told me."

"Then  you  must agree,"  Tasera  said, appealing  to  her. "Aitrus  must  go to
Veovis."

"Maybe," Anna said, nodding to her. Then she turned slightly, looking to  Aitrus
lovingly. "You know how proud I would  be to be your wife, Aitrus. Prouder  than
any woman in the whole of D'ni. Yet  I would not have you go down on  your knees
before that man, even if it meant we  must spend our lives apart. It would be  a
violation, and I could not bear it. But there is, perhaps, another way ..."

Aitrus raised his  eves and looked  at Anna. For  a long time  he simply studied
her, and then he nodded. "So be it, then," he said, "I will go to him. But I  do
not hold much hope."

*   *   *

Veovis agreed to meet  with Aitrus in his  father's study. Lord Rakeri  a silent
presence in his chair, there to ensure that things were kept within due bounds.

"So what is it that you  want, Guildsman?" Veovis said, standing six  paces from
where Aitrus stood facing him, his hands clasped behind his back.

Aitrus met Veovis's masklike stare with his own. "I seek an explanation for your
vote this morning."

"And I decline to give it."

"You do not like her, do you?"

Veovis shrugged. "As I said ..."

"... you decline to give your reasons."

Veovis nodded.

"You recall our meeting in the shaft all those years ago?"

"What of it?"

"You recall what happened ... after-ward? How I helped save your life?"

Veovis blinked.  He took  a long  breath, then:  "I was  very grateful  for your
actions. But what of it? What bearing has it on this matter?"

"You made me  a promise. Remember?  You said then  that if there  was anything I
wanted-anything-that was in your power to  grant, then I should come to  you and
you would grant it."

Veovis stood there like a Statue, his eyes like flints, staring back at Aitrus.

"Do you remember?"

"I remember."

"Then I ask  you to keep  your word. Lord  Veovis, and give  me your permission,
before the full Council, to marry TI'ana."

Veovis was silent  for a long  time. Finally he  turned, looking to  his father.
Rakeri stared back at  his son a moment,  his eyes filled with  a heavy sadness,
then gave a single nod.

Veovis turned back. "I am a man of my word, and so your wish is granted, Aitrus,
son of Kahlis, but from this day forth I wish neither to speak with you nor hear
from you again. Whatever once existed between us is now at an end. All  promises
are met. You understand?"

Aitrus stared  back at  him, his  face expressionless.  "I understand. And thank
you."

"You thank me?" Veovis laughed bitterly. "Just go, for I am sick of the sight of
you."





PART FIVE
THE PHILOSOPHER

The vestibule  was packed  with guildsmen--Grand  Masters and  their assistants,
great Lords, and other, humbler members of the central D'ni Council-all  waiting
to  enter  the  great chamber  for  the  debate. As  ever  before  any momentous
occasion, the place  was buzzing with  talk as small  groups of cloaked  members
gathered between the fluted marble pillars to indulge in informal discussion  of
the new proposal

At the center of one of the larger groups stood Aitrus, whose proposal it was In
the fifteen years since he had  returned to Council, he had established  himself
as the unofficial leader of the more liberal faction in the House, and was often
consulted by the Five on matters of policy. Today, however, he was distracted,

"Any news?"  his friend  Oren of  the Guild  of Chemists  asked as he Joined the
group.

"Nothing yet," Aitrus answered.

"She'll be all right," Pemul, another close friend and a Master of the Guild  of
Legislators, said, laying a hand briefly on Aitrus's shoulder

I guess so," Aitrus said, but his concern was clear.

'So how will  it go today?"  Oren asked, looking  about him at  the dozen or  so
Masters who formed the core of their faction "Does anyone have a clear idea?"

There were smiles. Oren, as a Chemist, always wanted a certain answer.

"Whichever way it goes, it will be close," Hamil, the eldest of their group  and
Grand Master of the Guild of  Messengers said, pulling at his long  white beard.
"Much will depend upon the eloquence of our friend here."

Oren looked to Aitrus. "Then we are lost," he said, a faint smile at one  corner
of his mouth. "Master Aitrus has but a single thing in his head today."

Aitrus smiled. "Do not fret. Master Oren, I shall be all right. Having to  speak
will distract me from more important matters."

All  nodded  at that.  Though  the proposal  was  important to  them  all there,
Ti'ana's health was tantamount.

Indeed, without Ti'ana there would have been no proposal, for it was she who had
taken them down to the lower city to see conditions for themselves; she who,  in
the main part, had drafted the proposal.

"They say Veovis is to speak for our opponents," Penjul said, looking across the
vestibule to  where Veovis  stood, beneath  the great  arched doors  to the main
chamber, surrounded by the old men of his faction.

"Then the debate will be long and hard," Tekis of the Archivists said wryly.

"Long-winded, certainly," Penjul added, to general laughter.

"Maybe," Aitrus  said, "yet  I understand  Lord Veovis's  objections even so. He
fears that this change is but the thin end of the wedge, and he is not alone  in
fearing this. Our task is to allay such fears, if not in Veovis, then in  others
who might vote with him. They must see  that we mean exactly what we say and  no
more. Only then might we win."

There were nods all around at that.

"And if we lose?" Oren asked.

Aitrus smiled. "Then we  find other ways to  help the lower city.  As Ti'ana has
often said to me, there is always more than one way to skin a reekoo."

*   *   *

The chamber was  silent as Veovis  rose from his  seat on the  lowest level and,
turning, looked about him at the gathered members.

"Guildsmen, my Lords ... as  you know, my task is  to persuade you not to  adopt
this rash proposal.  I do not  think I need  say much. As  the present system of
governing our city has worked for more than five thousand years, then one  might
argue that it has worked well."

Veovis paused, his eyes resting briefly  on Aitrus, who sat not five  spans from
where he stood, watching him intently.

"Yet there is  another issue here,  and that is  the question of  who runs D'ni.
Such measures as are proposed might  seem innocuous, yet they are guaranteed  to
encourage restlessness among the common people, for having tasted power-if  only
of this  limited kind-then  would they  not want  greater power?  Would they  be
content to remain thus limited?

"Besides, as we who  were bred to it  know to our great  cost, power is but  one
side of the equation; responsibility is the other. Power can be given overnight,
but responsibility must  be taught. Long  years go into  its making. Do  we not,
then, ask a great  deal of these common  men, however good their  intentions, in
expecting  them  to   shoulder  the  bur'den   of  responsibility  without   due
preparation? Of course we  do. Is it not  unfair to ask them  to be as wise  and
knowing as ourselves, when  all they have known  until this time is  service? It
is."

Veovis smiled. "And that is ultimately  why I say nay to this  proposal. Because
of the unhappiness it  would bring to those  who presently are happier  than us.
Why give them such care? Why burden  them with it? No, fellow guildsmen, let  us
be content and leave things as they are. Say nay as I say nay and let us be done
with it. Guildsmen, my Lords, thank you."

Veovis sat, to a murmur of approval. At a signal from Lord R'hira, Aitrus stood.

"Guildsmen, my Lords ... As you may know, my wife, Ti'ana is in labor, and so I,
too, ought to be brief."

There was laughter. Even Veovis gave a grudging nod.

"However,  let me  just say  a word   or two  in answer  to my  fellow  member's
comments. I understand how busy Lord Veovis  is, yet if he had read my  proposal
thoroughly, he would see that what I am proposing falls far short of the kind of
power he suggests we would be relinquishing. Not only that, but I find myself in
profound agreement with Veovis.  Power is not a  thing to be given  lightly. And
yes, responsibility is a grave and heavy burden and ought to be something one is
schooled to bear. That is the D'ni way, and I would not have it changed."

Aitrus paused, looking  about him, his  eyes going from  face to face  among the
circular levels of the great chamber.

"Let me therefore say it  clearly, for the benefit of  all, so that there is  no
mistaking what I am asking you to agree to today. I am as one with Lord  Veovis.
All matters of policy and funding must remain the prerogative of this chamber. I
do not contest that for a moment.  My proposal is designed to give, not  take-to
empower the common people of D'ni and  give them a degree of control over  their
lives that at present they do not have."

Aitrus smiled. "I see that some of you shake your heads at that, but it is true,
and  some  of  you have  seen  it  with your  own  eyes.  Our people-D'ni,  like
ourselves-are not poor, nor are they  hard done by. They have food  and shelter,
sanitation and medicines if need be,  but-and this is the vital point-their  lot
could be improved. Greatly improved."

He looked about him once again, scrutinizing face after face.

"I know what  some of you  are thinking. Why?  Why should we  be concerned about
improving their lot? Well, let me  give you two good reasons. First,  just think
of whom we speak.  We are not  talking of idlers  and spendthrifts and  good-for
nothings, but of good,  hardworking people, men and  women both. All of  us here
know a good dozen or more such people. We meet them daily and depend on them for
many things. And they depend on us.

"Second, it is often said, with justifiable pride, that D'ni rules ten  thousand
Ages, yet a society ought  to be judged not merely  by the extent of its  empire
but by the quality  of life of all  its citizens. We are  a rich people. We  can
afford to be  generous. Indeed, I  would argue that  it is our  moral duty to be
generous, especially to our own. And that is why I ask you, fellow guildsmen, to
say 'aye'  to this  proposal. For  D'ni, and  so that  we might  in future  look
ourselves squarely in the mirror and be  proud of what we have done here  today.
Guildsmen, my Lords, thank you."

As Aitrus sat.  Lord R'hira signaled  to the stewards  at the back  of the hall.
Veovis and Aitrus  had been the  last two speakers;  now it was  all down to the
vote.

R'hira waited as the eight stewards took their places. It was their job to count
the hands raised both for and against the proposal. When they were ready, R'hira
looked to his fellow Lords, then spoke again.

"All those in favor of the motion raise your hands."

The stewards quickly counted.

"And those against."

Again the stewards made their tally.

"Thank you, Guildsmen."

The stewards turned, making their way down, forming an orderly queue before Lord
R'hira. As each gave his tally, R'hira wrote it down in the great ledger  before
him. As  the final  steward turned  away, Lord  R'hira quickly  added up the two
columns of figures, then  looked to either side  of him. It was  a protocol that
the Five Lords did not vote  unless a decision was so close-within  three votes,
usually-that their opinion could decide the matter.

"Guildsmen," he  said, looking  back at  the rank  after rank  of members seated
around  and above  him. "It  appears that  you are  divided on  this issue.  One
hundred  and eighty-two  members for,  one hundred  and eighty  against. In  the
circumstances, the Five speak for the proposal."

Veovis was on his feet at once.  "But you cannot, my Lord! For what  good reason
..."

He fell silent, then bowed his head.

R'hira stared at the young Lord a moment, then stood, signaling to all that  the
proceedings were over. "The Council  has spoken. Master Veovis. The  proposal is
carried."

*   *   *

Suahrnir closed  the door  quietly behind  him, then  turned, looking across the
lamplit  room to  where his  friend Veovis  sat in  the corner  chair, lost   in
thought.

It was some time since he had seen Veovis quite so agitated, and even though  he
had  calmed down  considerably since  the Council  meeting, there  was still   a
brooding intensity to him that did not bode well.

"Would you  like a  drink?" he  asked, going  over to  the great  stone cupboard
beneath the window  and picking up  one of the  three crystal decanters  he kept
there.

Veovis glanced up, then shook his head.

Suahrnir shrugged, then poured  himself a large drink.  He took a swig  from the
glass, then turned, facing Veovis again  as the warmth of the liquor  filled his
throat.

"There must  be something  we can  do," Veovis  said quietly,  as if speaking to
himself.

Suahrnir smiled. "Maybe there is."

Veovis's eyes widened with interest. "Go on.'

"There is a  man I know,"  Suahrnir said, taking  the seat beside  Veovis. "They
call him the Philosopher. He writes pamphlets."

"Pamphlets!" Veovis made  a sound of  disgust. "Really, Suahrnir,  I thought you
were being serious."

"I am. This Philosopher is a very influential man in the lower city. People read
his writings. Lots of people.  Arfd they listen to what  he has to say. More  so
than Ti'ana and the reformers."

"And just what does he say?"

Suahrnir sat back. "That would  take too long. You ought  to read one or two  of
them for yourself. You would like them, Veovis."

Veovis stared at  his friend skeptically,  then reached out  and took the  glass
from him, taking a sip from it before he handed it back.

"And what name does this Philosopher go by?"

"A'Gaeris."

Veovis roared with laughter. "A'Gaeris! The fraudster?"

"It was never proved."

But  Veovis waved  that away.  "The guilds  do not  expel their  members on  the
strength of rumor, Suahrnir. Besides, I was there when A'Gaeris was stripped  of
his Guild cloak. I heard the charges that were on the roll."

"That was fifty years ago."

"It does not matter if it was five hundred years ago. The man is untrustworthy."

"I think you are wrong. I think he could help you."

"Help me? How? By writing a pamphlet about it?"

Suahrnir looked  down. He  had never  heard Veovis  sound quite  so bitter.  The
defeat today had clearly hit him hard; more so perhaps because of who it was had
swung the vote against him.

"The Philosopher  has no  love of  outsiders," Suahrnir  said, staring  into his
glass. "Indeed, he argues that the mixing of bloods is an abomination."

Suahrnir looked up. Veovis was watching him now. "He says that?"

"That and much more. You should meet him."

Veovis laughed sourly. "Impossible."

"Then you will just sit here and brood, will you?"

"No," Veovis said, standing, then reaching across for his cloak. "I will go home
to K'veer and brood, as you clearly do not want my company.

Suahrnir put his hand out, trying to stop his friend. "Veovis ..."

"Tomorrow," Veovis  said, brushing  his hand  off. "I  will be  in a better mood
tomorrow."

Suahrnir watched him  go, then sighed.  Veovis was in  a bad mood  right now and
closed to all suggestions, but maybe in a day or two ...

He smiled, then, going over to his desk, began to pen a note.

*   *   *

Anna sat up in bed, a huge pile of pillows at her back, cradling the newborn;  a
serene smile, forged out  of tiredness and  exultation after a  difficult twenty
hour labor, on her unusually pale face.

On a chair to  one side, Tasera sat  forward, her fingers laced  together on one
knee,  her features  set in  a permanent  grin of  delight as  she studied   her
grandson. He was  small-much smaller than  Aitrus had been  at birth-but sturdy,
and the midwife said he was a healthy child.

They were on Ko'ah, and it was  spring on the island. The scent of  blossoms was
on the air and birdsong filled the morning's sunlit silence.

"Where is Aitrus?"

"He will  be here  soon," Anna  said, smiling  soothingly at  Tasera. "He cannot
simply walk away. It was his proposal."

"Even so ..."

Tasera stopped, a grin breaching her face. "Aitrus! So there you are! What  took
you?"

Aitrus greeted his  mother, then stepped  past her, looking  across the room  to
where Anna lay, his face, at that moment, filled with wonder.

"A boy," Anna said, smiling back at him.

Aitrus went  across, then  knelt beside  the bed,  his face  on a level with the
sleeping child, his eyes wide at the sight of this, his son.

"Why he's ..."

"... like you." Anna laughed softly. "He's beautiful, no?"

Aitrus  nodded, then  looked up  at her.  "Thank you,"  he said  quietly,  then,
leaning carefully across the child, he gently kissed her.

Again he stared,  drinking in the  sight of his  child the same  way he had once
studied the sleeping form of Anna, that night before he had asked her to be  his
wife, the two moments joined like links in a chain.

"Well, little Gehn," he said, the first hint of a tender smile on his lips. "How
is the world?"

*   *   *

They had  been expecting  Master Oren  for some  hours. He  had said he would be
late, but as the time went on it began to look more and more as if he would  not
make the celebration. And then he arrived, his face dark, his manner withdrawn.

Aitrus, about to greet him, saw how he looked and took him aside.

"What is it, old friend?"

"We are summoned, Aitrus,"  Oren answered, embarrassed silently.  "All guildsmen
must  report  back to  D'ni  at once.  Two  young guildsmen  from  the Guild  of
Maintainers have gone missing. We are to search the Ages for them."

Aitrus blinked. "But that's ..."

"... a mammoth task,  yes, Aitrus, which is  why the Maintainers have  asked for
the help of all the other  guilds. The circumstances are ... suspicious,  let us
say. They were investigating something important.  What it was, we do not  know,
but Grand Master Jadaris  is concerned enough to  think that they may  have been
kidnapped, even killed."

The news stunned Aitrus.  "All right," he said.  "Comt in and greet  my family a
moment, Oren. I, meanwhile, will gather  up our friends and tell them  the news.
Then we shall go."

Oren nodded. For  a moment he  gently held Aitrus's  arm. "I am  sorry to be the
bearer of such ill news on so joyous an occasion. I hear you have a son."

A brief smile appeared on Aitrus's features once more. "Come see him, Oren.  His
name is Gehn and he shall be a great guildsman one day."

*   *   *

An hour later, Aitrus stood before Master Jadaris himself.

"Ah, Master Aitrus. I hear congratulations are in order. A son, eh? That is good
news. Very good news indeed!"

"Thank you, Grand Master," Aitrus said, bowing low.

"You have been told what is happening?" Jadaris asked.

"We are to search the Ages."

"Indeed. But not all the Ages. Only those which the two guildsmen were known  to
have personally investigated in the last five years."

Aitrus frowned. "Master?"

"This  must not  be known  to all,  Aitrus," Jadaris  said, lowering  his  voice
slightly and sitting  forward, "but a  number of blank  linking books have  gone
missing from our  Halls. We suspect  that the guildsmen  took them to  carry out
their investigations."

That news was grave. Aitrus saw at once how difficult things were.

"Do we know what they were investigating. Master Jadaris?"

"We do not. But we think they may  have found something on one of the Ages  they
were sent to look at routinely. Something very important. And they may have gone
back to try to get conclusive proof, using the missing linking books."

"How many Ages are involved, Master?"

"More than sixty."

"And you suspect that a senior guildsman might be involved?"

Jadaris nodded. "That  is why we  are sending in  teams, rather than  individual
guildsmen. We do not want to take the risk of losing any more of our men. I have
assigned you to a team of our own Maintainers."

"I see. And where would you like me to go. Grand Master?"

"To K'veer."

"K'veer!"

Jadaris raised a hand.  "Before you object. Lord  Rakeri himself asked for  you,
Aitrus. He considers you  above reproach and felt  that if you were  to lead the
team investigating  his family's  Books, no  possible taint  would fall upon his
family. As you might understand, this is a most sensitive matter."

"Of course. Even so ..."

"It is decided," Jadaris said with a  finality that made Aitrus look up at  him,
then bow.

"As you wish, Master Jadaris."

*   *   *

Lord Rakeri greeted Aitrus on the steps above the jetty. Behind the old man, the
great spiral rock of K'veer blotted out all else. It was early, and the light in
the great cavern was dim, but across  the lake D'ni glowed like the embers  of a
fire.

"Aitrus, I am glad you came. And well done. I hear you have a son."

Aitrus took the old man's hands in his own and smiled. "Thank you. Lord  Rakeri.
The boy's name is Gehn."

Rakeri returned his smile, squeezing his hands before he relinquished them.  "It
is a good name. He whom he  is named after, his father's father's father,  was a
great man. Or would have been, if time had been kind to him. But come, let us go
through. This is a difficult business yet it must be done, so let us do it  with
some dignity."

Aitrus  nodded,  walking beside  the  old man  as  they went  inside,  the other
guildsmen-six young Maintainers and one Master of the Guild-following behind.

The great  mansion was  still and  silent. After  the laughter  of the  party on
Ko'ah, this seemed a somber, joyless place.

The huge doors  to the Book  Room were locked.  Rakeri took a  key from the huge
bunch at his belt and unlocked the right-hand door, then pushed it open.

"Will  you  not come  in  with us,  my  Lord?" Aitrus  asked,  hesitating before
stepping inside the room.

"I would rather not, Master Aitrus," Rakeri said, with a tiny sigh. "This  whole
matter  is  difficult. Routine  inspections  one can  live  with. They  are  ...
traditional. But this ... this casts a bad light on all, don't you think?"

"I am sure  there is an  explanation, my Lord."  Aitrus smiled consolingly.  "We
shall work as quickly and as efficiently as we can, and I shall make sure that a
copy of my report is placed before you before we leave here."

Rakeri smiled. "That is kind of you, young Aitrus. Very kind."

*   *   *

The Book Room of K'veer was an impressive chamber, and though Aitrus had seen it
often before, stepping into it once more he felt again the weight of years  that
lay upon its shelves.

Shelves  filled  three of  the  walls from  floor  to ceiling-  ndless  books of
commentary, numbered and dated  on their spines in  golden D'ni letters. In  one
place only, to Aitrus's left as he stood, looking in, were the shelves breached.
There, two oreat windows, paned  with translucent stone of varying  colors, went
from floor to ceiling. Through them could  be seen the lake and the far  wall of
the great cavern.

The whole Book Room was  like a giant spur, jutting  from the main twist of  the
rock. There  was a  drop of  ten spans  between it  and the  surface of the lake
below.

It was a daunting  place for a young  guildsman to enter. Rakeri  and his family
owned six Books in all-six ancient Ages. These massive, ancient books were to be
found at the far end of the long, high-walled chamber, resting on tilted  marble
pedestals,  the  colors  of  which  matched  the  leather  covers  of  the Books
themselves. Each  was secured  to the  pedestal by  a strong  linked chain  that
looked like gold but was in fact made ofnara, the hardest of the D'ni stones.

Aitrus walked  across, studying  each of  the Books  in turn.  Five of them were
closed,  the  sixth-the Book  of  Nidur Gemat-was  open,  the descriptive  panel
glowing in the half light of the early morning.

He had been to Nidur Gemat often,  in earlier days, when he and Veovis  had been
friends. Standing  there now,  Aitrus felt  a great  sadness that  they had been
estranged,  and wished  he might  somehow bridge  the chasm  that had  developed
between them these past fifteen years.

Aitrus turned, calling to  the Guild Master. "Master  Kura. Post two men  on the
door. We shall start with Nidur Gemat."

The Guild Master  nodded and was  about to talk  to his guildsmen  when the door
burst open and Veovis stormed into the room.

"I thought as much!" he cried, pointing directly at Aitrus. "I might have  known
you would have yourself appointed to this task!"

Kura went to intercede, but Veovis glared  at him. "Hold your tongue, man! I  am
speaking to Guild Master Aitrus here!"

Aitrus waited  as Veovis  crossed the  chamber, keeping  all expression from his
face, yet a tense combative urge made him clench his right fist where it  rested
beside his leg.

"Well?" Veovis said, stopping an arm's length from Aitrus. "Have you nothing  to
say?"

Aitrus shook his head. He had learned long ago that when someone falsely accused
you, the best defense you had was silence.

"You couldn't keep yourself from meddling, could you? As soon as you heard ..."

"Veovis!"

Veovis straightened up, then turned.  His father, Rakeri, stood in  the doorway.
"Father?"

"Leave us now," Rakeri  said, the tone of  command in his voice  one that Aitrus
had never heard him use to Veovis before this hour.

Veovis bowed, then turned  glaring at Aitrus, an  unspoken comment in his  eyes.
When he was gone, Rakeri came across.

"Forgive my son, Aitrus.  He does not understand  how things are. I  shall speak
with him at once. In the meantime, I apologize for him. And I am sure, in  time,
he will come and apologize in person."

Aitrus gave the tiniest nod of his head. "Thank you, Lord Rakeri, but that  will
not  be necessary.  Things are  bad enough  between us.  Your apology  is  quite
enough."

Rakeri smiled and gently nodded. "You are wise as well as kind, Aitrus. Yes, and
I regret that my son has lost so good a friend. And no blame to you for that. My
son is stubborn, just as his grandfather was."

There was a moment's awkward silence, then the old man nodded once again. "Well,
Aitrus, I shall leave you once again. Do what you must. We have nothing here  to
hide."

Aitrus bowed his head. "My Lord ..."

*   *   *

A month passed  with no word  or sign of  the two missing  guildsmen. Slowly the
great sweep of the sixty Ages came  to a close. Two days after the  departure of
Aitrus and the Maintainer team from K'veer, Veovis sat on the veranda at the top
of the island, reading his father's copy of the report.

Turning the final page, he read the concluding remarks, then set the report down
on  the low  table at  his side  and sat  back, staring  thoughtfully into   the
distance.

Suahrnir, seated just across from him, studied his friend a moment, then, "Well?
What does out friend Aitrus say?"

Veovis was silent a moment, then he turned his head and looked at Suahrnir.  "He
was most thorough. But also fair. Scrupulously so. I may have misjudged him."

"You  think so?"  Suahrnir laughed.  "Personally I  think he  feels nothing  but
animosity toward you, Veovis."

"Maybe so, but there is nothing in the report."

"In the official report, maybe ..."

Veovis narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that what is written down for all to see is not always what is said  ...
in private. What if Master Aitrus gave another, separate report to the Five?"

"Then my father would have heard of such, and he, in turn, would have told me."

"Or to Lord R'hira alone?"

Veovis looked  down, then  shook his  head. "No,"  he said,  but the word lacked
certainty.

"What if he found something?"

"Found? What could he find?"

"Oh,  I  don't  mean found  as  in  really found.  Yet  he  might say  he  found
something."

"And the Maintainers?"

Suahrnir gave an ironic smile. "They  could be fooled easily enough. They  were,
after all, but apprentice guildsmen."

The thought of it clearly disturbed  Veovis, nonetheless he shook his head  once
more. "Aitrus  does not  like me,  but that  does not  make him  a cheat,  nor a
slanderer."

"Who knows  what makes  a man  do certain  things? You  hurt him  badly when you
opposed his marriage to the outsider. It is not the kind of thing a man  forgets
easily. And it is a more than adequate motive to wish to seek revenge."

Veovis looked down, his whole  expression dark and brooding. Finally,  he raised
his head again. "No, I cannot believe it of him."

Suahrnir leaned forward, speaking conspiratorially now. "Maybe not. But there is
a way we could be certain."

"Certain? How?"

"I have a friend. He hears things  ... from servants and the like. If  something
secretive is going on, he will have heard of it."

"This friend of yours ... who is he?"

Suahrnir smiled and sat back. "You know his name."

"A'Gaeris!" Veovis  laughed dismissively,  then shook  his head.  "You ask me to
take his word?"

"You do not have to believe anything he says," Suahrnir answered. "But what harm
will it do to listen? You might learn something to your benefit."

"And what does he want out of this?"

Suahrnir looked surprised at the suggestion. "Why, nothing. Nothing at all.  The
man owes me a favor.  Besides, I think you will  enjoy meeting him. Yes, and  he
you. You  are both  strong, intelligent  men. I  would enjoy  watching you  lock
horns."

Veovis stared at his  friend, then, with a  grudging shrug of his  shoulders, he
said. "All right. Arrange a meeting. But no word of this must get out. If anyone
should witness our meeting ..."

Suahrnir smiled, then stood,  giving a little bow  to his friend. "Don't  worry,
Veovis. I know the very place."

*   *   *

It was D'ni  night. Not the  night of moon  and stars you  would find up  on the
surface, but a night of intense,  almost stygian shadow. The lake was  dark, the
organisms  in  the water  inactive,  their inner  clocks  set to  a  thirty-hour
biological cycle established long ago and in another place, far from earth.

On  the  roof garden  of  Kahlis's mansion,  Anna  stood alone,  leaning  on the
parapet, looking out over the upper city.  Earlier in the evening it had been  a
blaze of light; now only scattered  lamps marked out the lines of  streets. Then
it had  seemed like  a great  pearled shell,  clinging to  the dark  wall of the
cavern; now  it looked  more like  a ragged  web, strung  across one corner of a
giant's larder.

Out on the lake  itself the distant wink  of lights revealed the  whereabouts of
islands. Somewhere out there, on one of those islands, was Aitrus. Or, at least,
he would have been, were he in D'ni at all.

Anna sighed, missing him intensely, then turned, hearing the child's cries start
up again in the nursery below where she stood. For a moment she closed her eyes,
tempted to leave things to the nurse, then, steeling herself against the  sound,
she went across and, bending down, lifted the wooden hatch that was set into the
floor.  Slipping  inside, she  went  down the  narrow  stairs and  out  into the
corridor that ran the length of the top of the house.

At once the sound of the crying grew much louder; a persistent, whining cry that
never seemed to end; or if it did, it ended but briefly, only to intensify.

Stepping into  the room,  Anna saw  that the  nurse had  been joined by her male
colleague, Master Jura of the Guild  of Healers. The ancient looked up  from the
desk in the corner where he had been writing and frowned at Anna, as if she  and
not the baby were the cause of the problem.

Ignoring him, Anna walked over to the  cot and looked down at her son.  Gehn lay
on his back,  his tiny red  face screwed up  tight as he  bawled and bawled, his
mouth a jagged black 0 in the  midst of that redness, his arms and  legs kicking
in a continuous mechanical movement of distress. The sight of it distressed her.
It made her want to  pick him up and cuddle  him, but that would solve  nothing;
the crying would go on whatever she did.

"Well..." the Healer  said after a  moment, consulting his  notes, "I would  say
that the matter is a simple one."

Anna saw how he looked at her,  his manner cold and unsympathetic, and felt  her
stomach tighten.

"The child's problems  stem from its  stomach," the Healer  continued. "He cries
because he is nor receiving adequate sustenance, and because he is in pain."

"In pain?"

The Healer nodded, then  looked to his notes  again. "If the child  were D'ni it
would be fairly easy to prescribe something for his condition, but as it is  ...
"

"Forgive me," Anna interrupted, "but what difference does that make?"

Master  Jura  blinked, surprised.  When  he spoke  again,  there was  a  note of
impatience in  his voice.  "Is it  not self-evident?  The child  is unnatural. A
hybrid. He is neither D'ni nor human,  but some curious mixture of the two,  and
therein lie his problems. Why, it is astonishing that he is even viable!"

Anna felt the shock of  what he had said wash  through her. How dare he  talk of
her son as if  he were some strange  experiment! She looked down  at the bawling
child, then back at the old Healer.

"Have you tested him, Master Jura?"

The old man laughed dismissively. "I do not  have to test him. As I said, it  is
self-evident. One cannot mix human and  D'ni blood. To be perfectly honest  with
you, the child would be better off dead."

Anna stared at him,  her anger rising. Then,  with a calmness she  did not feel,
she spoke.

"Get out."

The old man  had gone back  to his notes.  At her words,  he looked up, glancing
first at the nurse, to see if it  were she whom Anna had addressed, and then  at
Anna herself.

"Yes," Anna said, her face hard now. "You, old man. You heard me. Get out before
I throw you out!"

"Why, I ..."

"Get out!" she shouted, focusing her anger  on the man. "How dare you come  into
my house and tell me that my son would be better off dead! How dare you!"

Master Jura bristled, then, closing up his notes, he slipped them into his  case
and stood.

"I will not stay where I am not wanted."

"Good," Anna said, wanting  to strike the man  for his impertinence. "And  you,"
she said, turning on the nurse. "Pack your things and go. I have no further  use
for you."

*   *   *

It was a quiet, first-floor room in a house in the J'Taeri District, overlooking
the  harbor. As  the door  closed, Veovis  looked about  him. It  was a   staid,
respectable room, three low chairs resting against one wall, a large,  dark-wood
dresser against another. On the third,  either side of the huge picture  window,
were two  portraits. He  walked across  and studied  them a  moment. Both of the
women  looked  stern and  matronly,  their clothing  dark  and austere-the  dour
uniform of respectable D'ni women for four thousand years and more.

He shook his head,  then turned. The city  bell was sounding the  fourth hour of
the afternoon. All was peaceful.

Would A'Gaeris come? And if he did, what would the old fraud have to say?

He could remember how  angry A'Gaeris had been,  the day of his  expulsion-could
remember vividly how he had glared at the Grand Master before throwing down  his
guild cloak and storming from the Hall.

Veovis had  been but  a student  that day,  not even  a guilds-man,  let alone a
Master. And now here he was, almost fifty years on.

The  door behind  him creaked  open. Veovis  turned, to  find Suahrnir  standing
there.

"Has he come?"

Suahrnir nodded, then stood  back as A'Gaeris entered  the room. He was  a tall,
broad-shouldered man, but stout in girth  and balding, his gray hair swept  back
from his pate and worn unfashionably long. He wore a simple black tunic and long
baggy pants of a similar black cloth.  But it was his eyes that drew  attention.
Fierce eyes that stared intently, almost insolently back at Veovis.

"My Lord," A'Gaeris said, the slightest sneer in the greeting.

"Philosopher," Veovis replied, matching h?s tone perfectly.

A'Gaeris smiled. "I was not wrong, then."

"Wrong?"

"I said you had fire in you. And I was right."

Veovis smiled sardonically. "That would be praise if from another's lips."

"But not from mine?"

"I do not know you, except by reputation."

"You have read my writings, then?"

"Not a word."

A'Gaeris barely batted an eyelid at the news. "Then that is a joy to come."

"And modest, too?"

"Need I be?"

Veovis smiled,  warming to  the man.  "You are  sharp, A'Gaeris,  I'll give  you
that."

"Sharp enough to cut yourself on, I warrant. So why are you here?"

"To be honest, I am not sure. I was persuaded that you might help me."

"Help you?" A'Gaeris laughed, then walked to the window and stared out. "But you
are a Lord ofD'ni. How can I, a mere common man, helpyou?"

But there was a teasing glint in the Philosopher's eyes that intrigued Veovis.

"I do not know."

"No," A'Gaeris looked back at him and smiled. "But maybe I do."

"Go on."

"I hear things."

"So Suahrnir told me. But are they things worth hearing?"

A'Gaeris shrugged. "What would you know?"

"Something to my benefit?"

"And your foes' disadvantage?"

"Perhaps."

The Philosopher smiled. "We  share one important thing,  Lord Veovis. A love  of
D'ni, and a belief in the purity of D'ni blood."

"What do you mean?"

"I speak of your once-friend Aitrus and his ill-chosen wife."

Veovis narrowed his eyes. "What of them?"

"Only last night, it seems, the  outsider woman sent Master Jura of  the Healers
away with his tail between his legs. And the child's nurse."

Veovis looked to Suahrnir again. This was news indeed if it were true.

"Do you know why?"

A'Gaeris grinned  broadly. "It  seems Master  Jura suggested  that it might save
time and trouble were the half-breed to be peacefully done away with."

Veovis stared back at him a moment, astonished. "And what did Master Aitrus  say
of this?"

"What could he say? He is away. But he will know soon enough when he is back."

"It is a shame."

"Indeed," A'Gaeris agreed. "Such a union should never have been allowed."

"I did all I could to prevent it."

"I  know."  The   Philosopher  was  looking   at  him  now   with  sympathy  and
understanding.

Veovis looked down.  "It seems you  know what I  want, Philosopher. But  what of
you? What do you want?"

"To be your friend."

Veovis looked up,  smiling, expecting some  sardonic look upon  A'Gaeris's face,
but those eyes were serious and solemn.

"I have missed  the company of  my peers," A'Gaeris  said. "It is  all very well
preaching to the rabble,  but it changes nothing.  My life ended when  the guild
threw me out."

"They had good reason ..."

"They had none!"

The sharpness of the rejoinder surprised Veovis.

"I was falsely  accused," A'Gaeris went  on. "There was  no missing book.  Or if
there was, it was not I who took it."

"So you say," Veovis said quietly.

"So I say,"  A'Gaeris said, fiercely  now, challenging Veovis  to gainsay him  a
second time.

There was a  moment's silence, then  Veovis shrugged. "Give  me a day  or two to
think on this, and then, perhaps, we shall meet again."

"As you wish."

Veovis nodded, then smiled. "You say she threw the Healer out?"

"She threatened him, I'm told."

"Well..." Veovis nodded to himself  thoughtfully, then walked over to  the door.
"It was interesting meeting you, Philosopher."

"And you. Lord Veovis."

*   *   *

Darkness was rising  from the lake  as A'Gaeris climbed  the back stairs  of the
lodging house where, for the past  fifty years, he had stayed. Corlam,  his mute
assistant, watched him from the  darkened window overhead, turning hurriedly  to
cross the room and light the lamp.

The Philosopher seemed thoughtful  tonight. As he came  into the room he  barely
acknowledged Corlam, but went straight to his desk and sat.

The room was a  shrine to the Philosopher's  endeavors. Apart from the  door and
window, there was not a square inch of the walls that was not covered in  books,
piled two deep on broad stone  shelves. Some were reference books, others  books
of Council minutes and resolutions. Some-almost  all of those on the shelves  at
the far end of the rectangular room- A'Gaeris's own journals.

For fifty years he had labored here, since  the day he had been cast out of  the
guild, making his plans, slowly preparing for the day when he could emerge again
from obscurity and become a name again. Someone everybody knew, and not just the
rabble of the lower city.

All this Corlam knew intimately, for, having "adopted" him as a child-an  orphan
of the lower alleys-A'Gaeris trusted Corlam as he trusted no one else, using him
as a sounding  board, rehearsing his  ideas and thoughts,  refining his theories
until Corlam knew them almost as well as he.

Corlam went across and  stood behind his master,  watching as A'Gaeris took  his
latest journal from the left-hand drawer  and, laying it on the desk,  opened it
and began to write.

Today had been important.  Corlam knew that. His  master had been in  a state of
some excitement for  days before this  meeting, though why  exactly Corlam could
not ascertain. Lord Veovis  was, he knew, an  important man, but why  his master
should desire to meet him only A'Gaeris himself knew, for he had said nothing on
this score to Corlam.

"Real books," A'Gaeris said,  after a while, glancing  up at Corlam. "If  only I
could get my hands on some real Books."

Corlam stared back  at him. There  were many Books  on the shelves-most  of them
"liberated" from the guild  libraries; for, after all,  with so many books,  the
guildsmen rarely ever noticed one was missing-but he knew what his master meant.
He was talking about kortee'nea. Blank D'ni Books. The kind one used to link  to
the Ages.

"I know," A'Gaeris said, smiling at him, then turning back to his journal.  "You
cannot help me there, Corlam. But maybe our lordship can. Besides, I have a  man
on the inside now. A friend who wants  to help me. If I can persuade him  to aid
me, who knows?"

Corlam looked closer. His master was practicing again. Writing words in  someone
else's  hand. Corlam  squinted at  the page,  then tapped  A'Gaeris's  shoulder,
nodding vigorously. It was Lord Veovis's  writing, as clear as day. He  had seen
examples only the other day, from the records of the Council.

Corlam watched, openmouthed. Though he  had watched A'Gaeris do this  many times
now over the years, he still found it magical the way his master could so easily
copy another's hand. He had only to study it an hour and he had it.

Pushing the journal away from him, A'Gaeris yawned and stretched, then turned to
face Corlam.

"You know, I had an idea today, Corlam. While I was waiting for his Lordship  to
turn up."

Corlam smiled, a look of attention coming to his features.

"It's like this," he went on. "I was asking myself how I could get into a  place
where I should not be-into a Guild strong room, say, or a well-guarded  cell-and
then get out again without being caught. The easiest way, of course, would be to
write a specific linking book  to allow me to link  into that place. But to  get
out again  I would  need a  second linking  book, and  I would  have to leave it
there. You follow me?"

Corlam nodded.

"So. Getting in would  be easy. Getting out  without being followed and  tracked
down by the Maintainers would be extremely hard. Unless ..."

A'Gaeris smiled  a great  smile of  self-satisfaction. "Unless,  of course,  one
linked on to another Age, and then  another after that. In fact, one might  take
three separate Linking Books into the cell with one, just to confuse things. But
it would be no good having the second and third Linking Books at the place where
one linked to each  time. That would be  no good at all.  No. One would need  to
hide the  Book a  good hour's  walk from  where one  linked to,  so that  anyone
following you  would have  to search  a wide  area in  order to find that second
Book. Indeed, one  could have three  or four such  Books--only one of  which you
would use. And when one linked the  second time, again you would have an  hour's
walk to  get to  the next  Linking Book.  That way  no one  could follow you. At
least, not  quickly, and  maybe not  at all.  A little  preparation, two  hours'
walking, and one would be safe."

For a moment A'Gaeris's eyes glowed, then he looked down. "Of course, one  would
need a masterful  writer to create  Ages at will,  and, say, a  mole inside with
access to places such as ... cells, for example."

*   *   *

Anna was in  the laboratory, working  on the latest  soil samples from  Gemedet,
when Aitrus  came in.  Gchn was  in the  cot on  a bench  nearby. As Aitrus came
across,  he stopped  to lean  over and  smile at  his softly  cooing son  before
greeting Anna.

Anna looked up trom the lens of the microscope and smiled. "I won't be long."

He nodded. "I have had a letter."

"Who is it from?"

"That is just it. It is not signed and the handwriting is unfamiliar."

He handed it to her, then waited as she read it.

"Destroy  it," she  said, handing  it back  to him.  "And do  not get  involved,
whatever it is."

"But what does it mean?"

"Does it matter?"

Aitrus shrugged.  "It is  the tone  of it  that bothers  me. 'Something  to your
benefit'. And all of the secrecy. What do you think is going on?"

Anna sighed. "If it really worries you, Aitrus, hand it over to the Maintainers.
Let them send a man along. But don't you get involved."

"All right," he smiled. "I'll destroy it." And having said it, he reached across
and, turning on the gas tap, ignited it, and lit the corner of the letter in the
fine blue flame. When  it was aflame, he  dropped it into the  sink. "There," he
said.

Behind him, Gehn began  to whimper. Aitrus went  over, lifted the baby  from the
cot, and cuddled him in the crook of his arm.

"He must be hungry," Anna said. "I'll finish here."

"No, you work on," he said. "I'll feed him."

She smiled.  "Don't over  feed him.  That was  the trouble  last time.  The poor
little mite could barely cope!"

"I know," he said, then, as if it were an afterthought, he added. "I have to  go
back to my rooms later  on. There's a report I  have to finish. I'll only  be an
hour or two. I can join you for a late supper."

Anna grinned. "That would be  nice. And maybe we could  get away for a few  days
soon. To Gemedet."

Aitrus nodded. "I shall ask Master Erafir to stand in for me. It is time he took
on more responsibility."

"Then  go and  see to  Gehn. But  remember, Aitrus,  nothing too  heavy for  his
stomach."

*   *   *

Aitrus had  meant to  go straight  to his  rooms; his  feet had  led him partway
there, but then curiosity had overcome  him and he found himself descending  the
steps, then walking beneath the gate and into J'Taeri District.

I do not have to get involved, he told himself. Whatever it was, he did not have
to act upon it. He would observe whatever had to be observed, then leave.

The street itself was an ordinary street, the house a staid respectable dwelling
of the  kind merchants  often bought.  The windows  were dark,  the door locked.
Aitrus turned. The  house overlooked the  harbor and Kerath's  arch, the top  of
which was almost on a level with  where he stood. Across the street between  the
facing buildings, was a low wall, from  which one could look out over the  lake.
He went across and stood there, his hands resting lightly on the stone.

There  was a  faint mist  in the  cavern tonight.  In the  narrow streets  lamps
wavered as wagons moved between the houses. There was a shout from somewhere far
below,  and then  laughter. Otherwise  the night  was peaceful.  Aitrus  turned,
conscious of a faint  gurgling sound. Close by  a narrow culvert cut  across the
street, clear water running in a stream from  the very top of the huge,  scallop
shaped city. He bent down and dipped his hand. It was cool.

He was about to turn  away and go when he  heard footsteps coming along the  far
end of the street. Looking about him, he spied a nearby doorway and stepped into
its shadows.

The footsteps came on, the slow  click of leather boots on stone,  then stopped.
Aitrus hesitated. He was about to risk a glimpse, when a second set of footsteps
could be heard, this  time from his left,  brisker than the first.  They paused,
then came on again, slower now. There was a low murmur of greeting.

Aitrus peeked out. Two men stood in the lamplight before the door of the  house.
One was cloaked and  hooded, the other, a  heavier-set man, wore nothing  on his
balding head. He looked familiar but where Aitrus had seen him he could not say.
He ducked back into shadow, listening.

"What do you want?" one of them asked, the voice, again, familiar-

"I  have something  to show  you," the  second answered.  "Something that   will
interest you."

It was a deep  voice, cultured yet with  a strangely common edge  to it. Whereas
the first...

"You want  me to  go in  there with  you?" the  first man  asked, and as he did,
Aitrus finally recognized the voice.

Veovis!

"Don't you trust me?"

"Alone, at  night, in  a strange  house?" Veovis  laughed ironically. "Would you
trust me?"

"Implicitly."

There was a silence, then a huff of resignation.

"All right," Veovis said finally. "I shall trust you. But be warned. I am armed,
A'Gaeris."

That name came as a shock to Aitrus. All young guilds-men knew it. No other name
attracted  quite  such  infamy.  But  what  was  he  doing  here  in  J'Taeri, a
respectable district? And what was Veovis doing meeting him?

Aitrus peeked out again, in time to see the big, heavyset man place a key in the
lock and turn it, then put out his hand, inviting Veovis to step inside.

"You first," Veovis said,  standing back a little,  his hand on the  hilt of his
dagger. "And put a light on. Then I shall come inside."

A'Gaeris smiled and shrugged,  then stepped inside the  house. A moment later  a
light went on in the hall.

Letting his  hand fall  from the  hilt of  his dagger,  Veovis glanced to either
side, then stepped into the house.

Was that it? Was that what the anonymous writer had meant him to see? And if so,
why?

Aitrus was about to  leave, to make his  way back up to  the Guild Hall, when  a
light went on  in the ground-floor  room to the  left of the  front door. Easing
back against the wall, Aitrus watched  as A'Gaeris entered the room, followed  a
moment later by Veovis.

Veovis, standing in the doorway, seemed ill at ease. He glanced about him, then,
satisfied that it  was not a  trap, closed the  door and walked  across to where
A'Gaeris  was rummaging  among the  papers on  a desk.  There were  a number  of
slender books among the papers, and A'Gaeris lifted one and handed it to Veovis.

Veovis hesitated, then  opened it. He  studied it a  moment then looked  up, his
eyes wide.

A'Gaeris smiled, then gestured toward the chair facing him.

*   *   *

Aitrus went straight to his rooms in the  Guild Hall. He had work to do, but  he
found he could not work. What he had seen troubled him greatly. Anna was  right,
of course; he ought to have gone straight to Master Jadans and put the matter in
the hands of the Maintainers,  but he had not, and  this was the result. Oh,  he
could go  there now,  but what  proof would  he have?  It was  his word  against
Veovis's.

But what was going on? Why were such strange and unlikely companions meeting  in
a merchant's house?

Aitrus sat still a long while, trying  to fathom it, but he could make  no sense
of it at all.

Anna. Anna would know. Only he could  not ask Anna, because he had promised  her
he would not get involved.  He had burned the note,  as if it had held  no power
over him. But it had. And now he had this dilemma.

Veovis. Maybe he ought to go and see Veovis and confront him openly with what he
had seen.

Aitrus  thought a  while, then  nodded. It  seemed the  right thing  to do.   No
skulking about in shadows. That was not his way. He would take a boat to  K'veer
in the morning and have it out with Veovis, face-to-face. For there had to be an
explanation.

Aitrus put away his files, then left the room, locking it behind him.  Tomorrow,
he told himself, making his way down the long, silent corridor toward the  great
gate. It will all come clear tomorrow.

*   *   *

Aitrus rose early the next morning.  At supper the previous evening he  had said
nothing to Anna,  nor had he  hinted at what  he planned. Yet  even as he  ate a
hasty breakfast, a servant  brought him in a  second letter, the handwriting  on
the envelope the same as that on the anonymous note the day before.

Aitrus stared at the  envelope a long while,  then, with a sigh  of resignation,
slit it open with  his fingernail. Inside was'a  brief note in the  same hand as
before, but with it was  a letter-a letter from Vcovis  to one of the two  young
guildsmen who had gone missing thirty days back.

He read it through, then looked to the date at the top of the page. That was the
day before the guildsmen disappeared.

"No," he said  quietly, setting the  letter aside and  picking up the  note once
more. "It is not possible ..."

The note read: "Come and  see me if you wish  to know more" and gave  a time and
place. That place was the merchant's house in J'Taeri.

Three choices now  lay before him:  to go to  Master Jadaris and  lay the matter
before him;  to go  straight to  K'veer and  confront Veovis;  or to  wait until
tonight and meet the author of the note.

The first was common sense; the second satisfied his sense of honor; but it  was
the third he would do.

Why? He could not answer why. It was simply how he was.

Forgive me, Anna, he thought, slipping  the note and letter into his  pocket and
rising trom his seat.

*   *   *

Veovis stood beside A'Gaeris on the  great rock, looking out across the  massive
plain that stretched away  below him and shook  his head. Everything was  subtly
wrong. The colors were  unnatural, the shapes of  trees, even the way  the hills
were formed, all was wrong. Yet it existed.

He turned, looking through his lenses at A'Gaeris. "Who made this?"

A'Gaeris turned, his eyes gleaming beyond the surface of the protective glasses.
"Your old friend, Aitrus."

"Impossible," Veovis said  dismissively. "Aitrus  and his  kin own  but two Ages
Ko'ah and  Gemedet. Both  are strictly  monitored by  the Maintainers. If either
were anything like this ... well, it would not be allowed."

"Yet  this is  his Age,"  A'Gaeris said,  smiling now  as he  handed Veovis  the
Linking Book.

"No," Veovis  said quietly,  disbelief vying  with horror  as he  stared at  the
handwriting on the pages of the Book. It was Aitrus's. He had seen Aitrus's hand
too often to be in doubt.

"He  is  experimenting,"  A'Gaeris  answered,  matter-of-factly.  "Secretly,  of
course, for he knows the guilds would frown upon his activities. The woman leads
him on, of course. Without her he  would never have strayed from the D'ni  path.
It is her  insidious influence we  see all about  us, Veovis. The  wrongness ...
that is her doing."

Veovis looked about him, then nodded, half-convinced.

"Poor Aitrus."

"You pity him?"

Veovis looked up, a flash of anger in his eyes. "He was a good man, once. As you
rightly say, the outsider  has bewitched him and  stolen his senses." He  closed
the Book and shook it. "If this is true ..."

A'Gaeris put his arm out, indicating their surroundings. "Can you doubt it?"

"No ... no, it is clear to me now."

Veovis sighed heavily.

A'Gaeris stared at him, as if sympathetic. "Would you like me to leave you for a
while?"

Veovis nodded, then,  with a small  sad smile, opened  the Linking Book  for the
Philosopher. The square on the right-hand page glowed softly, showing a  picture
of a study back on D'ni.

A'Gaeris met his eyes a moment. "There is more."

"More?"

"Yes. This is  not the only  Age he made.  Perhaps you would  like to see  a few
before you make up your mind what to do."

Again Veovis nodded, clearly shocked by this news.

"Well," A'Gaeris said  finally, putting out  his hand, "I  shall leave you  now.
Farewell."

His hand touched the glowing box. In a moment he was gone.

Veovis  closed the  Book and  pocketed it,  then looked  up again.  There was  a
curious beauty to this world, yet it was wrong.

Aitrus had to be stopped. But how? If he went to the Five with this information,
Aitrus would be expelled from the Council, stripped of his guild membership, and
possibly even  incarcerated on  a Prison  Age. Such  was the  penalty for making
illicit Ages. It would  rid him of his  chief opponent in Council,  but that was
unimportant. Besides,  he wondered  if he  could do  it if  it meant  destroying
Aitrus and his family. Maybe the woman was a pernicious influence, and maybe the
child  was  better off  dead,  but for  Aitrus  himself he  still  felt a  great
sympathy. Despite all their recent animosity, he could not help but remember how
good and kind a friend Aitrus had  once been. A true friend, unafraid to  say as
he saw.

Walking to the edge of the great slab, Veovis sat, his booted feet dangling over
the drop. What should he do?

I'll wait, he decided,  and see what other  evidence our friend A'Gaeris  has to
offer. And then I'll take my/other's counsel.

Veovis stood, taking the Linking Book from his pocket and opening it. Then, like
a child gently leaping a stream, he jumped out, over the edge of the great rock,
putting his hand to the panel  as he leapt, linking-vanishing into the  air-even
as the Book tumbled down into the wilderness of rock and tree below.

*   *   *

"Wait here. My Master will see you in a moment."

As the boy left the darkened room, Aitrus walked across. What, for the  briefest
instant, he had taken to  be a mirror was in  fact a window, looking in  to what
appeared to be a study. A single wall lamp lit the inner room dimly.

"Strange," he said quietly, surprised to find a window in the middle of a house.

On the far side of the study was a desk. Open upon the desk, recognizable by the
tell-tale glow on its right-hand page, was a D'ni book.

Aitrus stared at it, astonished to see it there. Yet even as he looked, a figure
formed in the air in front of  the desk, until it stood, as solid  as everything
about it, on the thick, red carpet.

A'Gaeris!

A'Gaeris  shook himself,  shrugging off  the sensation  of the  link, then  went
around  to the  far side  of the  desk and  opened one  of the  drawers,  taking
something  from within.  For a  time he  sat there,  staring down  at it,  then,
sensing a disturbance in the air, he looked up.

As he did, a second figure formed before the desk. Veovis.

A cold certainty swept through Aitrus at the sight. This was ill indeed.

Veovis turned, looking to his seated companion, then nodded.

"All right. You had better show me the others."

A'Gaeris stood. In his  hands was another Book.  He stepped around the  desk and
handed it to Veovis.

"There are more," he  said. "This is the  only one that I  have here, but I  can
bring the others if you wish. Tomorrow night, if that is convenient."

Veovis studied the Book in his  hands a while, then handed it  back. "Tomorrow,"
he said. "I shall come tomorrow."

"At this hour?" A'Gaeris asked.

"At this hour," Veovis answered. And then he turned and left, slamming the  door
behind him.

A'Gaeris stared at the Book  a moment, then set it  down and turned to face  the
one-way mirror, looking directly at Aitrus.

"Aitrus. We need to talk."

*   *   *

"You did not believe him capable, did you?"

Aitrus looked up wearily. For more than two hours he had worked his way  through
a stack of letters and documents, all in Veovis's hand.

There was nothing here that was directly incriminating- in almost every case the
evidence against Veovis was purely  circumstantial-yet the pattern of it  seemed
conclusive. Enough to convince Aitrus, anyway. He looked back across the desk at
the Philosopher. A'Gaeris's brow was  beaded with perspiration. In the  wavering
candlelight he seemed much older than his eighty five-years.

"How long has he been trading in illicit Books?"

"Two, maybe three years now-that is, as far as I know. As I said, I was not sure
of it at  first. After all,  he was a  great Lord. A  man of real  substance. It
seemed remarkable- unbelievable, almost-that he should be demeaning himself so."

"It still is," Aitrus  said, setting the final  memorandum aside. "If I  had not
seen all this with my own eyes." He  stared at it a moment, then looked back  at
A'Gaeris. "Where did you get these?"

"I  have  sources,"  A'Gaeris  answered.  "I  bought  this  here,  that   there,
collecting, all the while collecting, until I had enough to be certain."

"And the  Books you  are selling  him; where  did they  come from?  I have heard
nothing of missing Books."

"They were from his friend, Suahrnir."

"Suahrnir! But..."

Aitrus saw it  at once. One  of the duties  of the Guild  of Maintainers was  to
destroy  "failed" Books-D'ni  Books that,  for one  reason or  another, had  not
worked, linking to unstable Ages. These  were burned in special guild ovens.  Or
were supposed to  be. And the  man in charge  of that task  was ... Guild Master
Suahrnir.

"But why does he not deal with his friend Veovis directly?"

A'Gaeris smiled. "They are friends,  yes, but neither trusts the  other. Besides
..." he laughed, "neither  knows the other is  involved. Suahrnir does not  know
who buys the Books, and Veovis ..."

"Does not know who supplies them, right?"

Aitrus sat back, astonished. Then, "So why are you showing mt all this?"

A'Gaeris sat forward, the fire of indignation in his eyes suddenly. "Because  no
one would listen to me. But you, Aitrus, you could do something. You could  even
get to Lord R'hira himself."

"But why!'"

"Because I, who was once an honest man, was barred from the guild for  something
I did not do, while this Lord's son,  this rock-worm, can do as he will and  get
away with it. That's why!"

A'Gaeris's face was dark  with anger. "You must  understand. Veovis came to  me.
And they  found out.  They must  have been  watching him.  That is why he killed
them."

The room was silent. Aitrus stared at the Philosopher coldly.

"I do not believe you," he said, finally.

"No," A'Gaeris said sadly, "yet it is true." He pointed to the last thing in the
pile-the Linking Book-his eyes  grave. "See for yourself  if you do not  believe
me!"

*   *   *

Veovis stepped from  the boat onto  the bottom step,  then turned, looking  back
across the lake toward the sleeping city. Beneath him, dark as pitch, the  water
lapped softly against the stone. Above and to his right, beyond the stone lip of
the harbor wall, a  lamp burned steadily atop  its pole, reflected in  the water
farther out.

The great cavern was silent, as if empty of all other life. Only the faint, dull
air-rhythm of the great fans could be heard, distant like a heartbeat.

Veovis stretched and yawned.  He had much to  think about, yet he  was tired now
and experience had taught  him not to make  decisions while in the  grip of such
lassitude. He would sleep on the matter, and in the morning, fresh, reflect anew
upon the problem.

He climbed the  steps, up onto  the black stone  jetty. Lianis was  awaiting him
there, two servants with him. As Veovis emerged, one brought a cloak and wrapped
it about his shoulders, while another held up a lamp to light his way.

"Lianis," he said, greeting his advisor. "You did not have to wait up for me."

Lianis fell in beside  him as they walked  across the flags toward  the mansion.
"You have visitors, my Lord."

The news chilled Veovis. He glanced  at Lianis, then looked away, troubled.  Had
he been watched? Had someone witnessed his meetings with A'Gaeris? For if so  he
would be hard stretched to explain his comings and goings.

"Where are they?" he asked, stopping as they came beneath the arch.

"In your study, my Lord. I thought it best to keep this matter discreet."

"You  did well,"  Veovis answered,  touching his  arm briefly.  They walked  on,
through the great doors and down the broad, high corridor, the servant  hurrying
to keep up with them, his lamp  throwing their shadows on ahead of them  as they
approached the great staircase.

Coming to the  first step, Veovis  turned to Lianis  again. "I will  take things
from here, Lianis.  Send one of  the servants in  with wine in  a brief while. I
shall send for you if I need you."

"My Lord," Lianis bowed then backed away.

Veovis climbed the stairs alone. At the foot of the steps, the servant held  the
lamp high, lighting his way as best he could.

His study was  to the left.  As he stood  before the door,  Veovis tried to calm
himself and still his  swirling thoughts. Things looked  bad. He had met  with a
sworn enemy of the  D'ni state. And why?  To discredit an opponent.  It was that
simple, and no  end of sophistry  could cloud the  matter. Yet against  that was
what he now knew ofAitrus and the illicit Ages. Was that enough? Might he claim,
perhaps,  that  he   had  known  before   the  meetings-had  known   and  wanted
confirmation?

Perhaps.

He  grasped the  door handle  and turned  it, stepping  into the  room, a  smile
forming on his lips.

"Guildsmen ..."

The  smile froze.  Facing him,  rising from  a chair  beside his  desk, was  the
outsider woman, Ti'ana.  Cradled in her  arms was the  half-breed child. As  the
door clicked shut behind  Veovis, she took two  steps toward him, her  dark eyes
accusing him.

"Where is he, Veovis? Where is my husband?"

*   *   *

Aitrus sat in his study, the Linking  Book open on the desk before him.  If what
A'Gaeris said was true, he would find  the bodies of the two young guildsmen  on
the other side. But could he trust A'Gaeris?

Who knew what kind  of Age this really  linked to? For all  he knew it could  be
deadly, the air  poisonous. On the  other hand, it  was, in all  likelihood, the
only real  piece of  evidence he  had against  Veovis-(/"things were as A'Gaeris
claimed.

Aitrus reached out and closed the book. To  link was too risky. If he had had  a
breathing mask and  a second Linking  Book to bring  him back to  D'ni, he might
have gone ...

If. Besides, there were Anna and Gehn to think of now.

Taking a sheet of vellum  from the side, he took  his pen from the inkstand  and
began to write,  penning a note  to Grand Master  Jadans of the  Maintainers. He
would send him the Linking Book and  let him decide what should be done.  In the
meantime, he would take Anna and the child to Gemedet, away from things.

Aitrus signed the note then stood. He did not feel like sleep-his mind was  much
too filled  with things  for rest-yet  he felt  the need  to see  Anna and Gehn.
Walking through to the  bedroom he stopped in  the doorway, listening for  their
breathing in the darkness.

Nothing. There was nothing. Slowly  he tiptoed across, then crouched  beside the
bed, putting out his hand. The bed was empty.

He stood, then went across and lit the lamp. The bed was made. There was no sign
of them in the room.

For a moment or two he could not  think. When he had left, four hours ago,  they
had been here, asleep.

Aitrus went out, then knocked on the end door, waking his house steward.

"Were there any callers while I was gone?"

"A Messenger came," he answered, sitting up. "From the Guild House. He brought a
message for you from your father. The Mistress-Ti'ana-came down and took it from
me. She spoke to the man."

"Did you hear what she said?"

"No."

Aitrus thanked  him, then  went back  to his  study. There  was no  sign of  the
message, but whatever it was, he  knew exactly what Anna would have  thought. He
had told her he was going to the Guild Hall, and any message would have  reached
him there.

Unless he had not gone to the Guild Hall.

She would  have remembered  the anonymous  note, and,  piecing things  together,
would have gone after him.

Maybe. But  why take  Gehn? Why  not go  alone? Unless  she had  not gone to the
house.

Gemedet, then? But again, why, in the middle of the night? Why not wait for  him
to return?

No, only her fear for him would have  made her go out after him. But why  should
she be afraid? Unless she already knew-  knew at some deeper, instinctive  level
that Veovis was behind it all.

K'veer!

No sooner had the thought been spawned  than it became a certainty in his  mind.
K'veer! They had gone to K'veer!

Whirling about, he hastened across the room and out, then ran down the corridor,
not caring if he woke the house. His booted footsteps thudded on the stairs, yet
as he threw open  the door, it was  to be greeted by  the sight of men  carrying
lamps at his gate and, just  beyond them, a dark sedan, suspended  between eight
uniformed runners. Veovis himself stood beside the carriage, talking to  someone
within its shadowed interior.

A sudden anger boiled up in Aitrus. Striding down the path, he confronted Veovis
even as he turned.

"What Brecon doing here?"

Veovis stared back at him haughtily.

"Come!" Aitrus demanded. "What do you want?"

"Want?" Veovis's face hardened. "Nothing from you, Aitrus. I deal only with  men
of honor."

Aitrus bristled. "You dare to question my honor?"

"Say only that I know who D'ni's friends are, and who its , enemies."

Aitrus felt a flash of hatred ripple through him. He wanted to strike Veovis. To
break him as one might dash a  plate against the ground.

"You had best hold your tongue. Lord Veovis, before I rip it from your mouth!"

Veovis's eyes  flared. "It  is you  who should  be careful,  lest I  teach you a
lesson in manners!"

Aitrus clenched  his fist,  then, knowing  that violence  j would solve nothing,
forced himself  to be  calm. "I  know to  | whom  my loyalty  lies well  enough,
Veovis. Would that I could say the same of you."

"I give my loyalty to those who  deserve it," Veovis responded. "It is no  cheap
thing."

Aitrus frowned. If  that was a  jibe at him  he did not  understand it. What did
Veovis mean? Changing tack, he asked the i question he ought to have begun with.

"Where is my wife? Where is Ti'ana?"

Veovis's lips formed a  sneer. "Do you not  know. Master Aitrus? Surely  it is a
husband's duty to know where his wife is!"

Aitrus  took a  step closer,  so that   his face  was but  a hand's  width  from
Veovis's. He spoke quietly, threateningly.

"Do you have her?"

For a moment Veovis  simply stood there staring  back at him, his  eyes yielding
nothing, then he turned and, drawing  back the curtain of the sedan,  reached in
and, grasping her roughly by the hand, tugged Anna from her seat.

Anna glared at Veovis, then turned back, reaching in to take the sleeping  child
from the nurse within the sedan.

"A pretty pair you make!" Veovis said, a heavy sarcasm in his tone now. "Neither
knows where the other is!"

Aitrus looked to Anna, his eyes concerned, but she shook her head, as if at some
unspoken question. Cradling Gehn, she  moved past Aitrus, then turned,  standing
at his shoulder.

"Thank you," she  said, speaking to  Lord Veovis. "I  am sorry to  have troubled
you."

"No  trouble," he  answered, his  cold eyes  never leaving  Aitrus's face.   "No
trouble at all."

*   *   *

"Master Aitrus. Their Lordships will see you now."

Aitrus pulled himself up  off the bench, then  followed the guildsman along  the
corridor to where two guards stood before a pair of huge double doors.

For a week he had wrestled with  his conscience, not knowing what to do.  It was
A'Gaeris's role in things  that worried him most.  The man had no  love of D'ni,
and to bring down D'ni's favorite son, Veovis, would fit in well with any  plans
he had for vengeance. All well and good, yet Aitrus had seen the Book, and still
had the Linking Book in his  possession. That was Veovis's hand and  no mistake.
And A'Gaeris's indignation, that burning sense of injustice Aitrus had  glimpsed
the last time they had met, that, too, had seemed genuine.

Anna had begged him to go  straight to Master Jadaris and leave  the Maintainers
to deal with the  matter, but that would  have meant going behind  Lord Rakeri's
back, and that Aitrus would not do.

And so, eight days on, he had gone to see Lord Rakeri in his rooms in the  Halls
of the Guild of Miners. The old man had greeted him warmly. There, over a cup of
mulled wine, he had told the old man of his son's activities.

Aitrus could see how torn the old  man was. He had always treated Aitrus  like a
second  son, even  after the  breach in  Aitrus's friendship  with Veovis,   but
suddenly there was a coldness, a distance in his manner. The old man had  stared
long and hard at the Linking Book, and then he had nodded.

"Leave it with me, Master Aitrus," he said, his voice cold and formal, "I  shall
make sure that the matter is fully investigated."

A long  silence had  followed. But  now, a  full month  after that audience with
Rakeri, the matter was to be decided.

As the doors swung back, Aitrus looked about him. Beside the five Lords who  sat
behind the great  desk on the  far side of  the chamber, there  were six others,
seated  at desks  to either  side of  the room.  To his  left were  three  guild
scribes, to his  right two senior  guildsmen in the  Guild of Maintainers,  and,
slightly apart from them, their Grand Master, the elderly Jadaris.

There was no sign of Veovis.

Aitrus felt relief flood him. He had been feeling awkward enough about this, but
had Veovis been there in person it would have been far more difficult.

"Take a seat, Master Aitrus," Lord R'hira said, looking up from a document.

Aitrus sat, then glanced at Rakeri. The old man was looking down, distracted, it
seemed,  the fingers  of one  hand drumming  idly on  the leather  cover of   an
official-looking file. He did not look well these days, as if the cares of  this
inquiry had fallen heavily on his shoulders.

R'hira looked directly at Aitrus.  "In view of what you  told us, a unit of  the
City Guard was sent to the house  in J'Taeri District and a thorough search  was
made. Unfortunately, no trace of any of the papers you mentioned could be found.
This is not to say  that they do not exist  somewhere, but without them we  have
only your word. That in itself is no small thing, Guild Master Aitrus, yet it is
not evidence, as defined by D'ni law." He paused, then, "It comes down to  this.
After long consideration we have decided that we cannot possibly risk using  the
Linking Book. To  risk a third  life would be,  we felt, a  reckless chance, and
without the direct evidence  of which you speak-that  is, the bodies of  the two
guildsmen-then it is a matter of your word against that of Veovis."

Aitrus blinked, surprised.

"Forgive me. Lord R'hira, but I  find this situation intolerable. Either I  am a
liar or Lord Veovis is. If you will not send another guildsman, I am prepared to
go."

There was a moment's silence, then Lord R'hira nodded. "It shall be as you say."

Aitrus stood, then walked  across and, taking the  Book from Lord R'hira,  and a
Linking Book,  he opened  the Book  in question,  placing his  hand against  the
glowing panel.

There was silence in the room.  A few moments later Aitrus reappeared,  his face
ashen.

"It is true," he said. "There are bodies there."

*   *   *

That evening a warrant  for Veovis's arrest was  issued. Though the day  was now
advanced, K'veer  still blazed  with lights.  Every room  was lit, every lantern
burned brightly. Men from both the City Guard and the Guild of Maintainers  were
everywhere; in  every room  and every  corridor. It  was clear  that a  thorough
search of the island had been undertaken.

Climbing the great  stairway at the  heart of the  rock, Aitrus began  to wonder
just what he had set in motion. It was true what people said about the messenger
who brings ill news.

Passing the entrance to the Book Room, Aitrus saw how armed teams of  Maintainer
guards were waiting there, ready to link into the family Ages. That, as much  as
anything, told him that they had not yet taken Veovis.

So he is guilty, he thought, surprised  despite all, for some small part of  him
still held that this was all a  mistake and that an explanation would be  found.
But no. If Veovis was missing, then there could be but a single explanation.

Master Jadaris was waiting for him in Lord Rakeri's study, near the very top  of
the island  mansion. It  was a  regular cave  of a  room. There were no windows;
instead, huge, book-lined shelves filled every inch of the walls.

"Ah, Aitrus," Jadaris said,  looking up at him  from behind the great  desk. The
Linking Book lay before him, open,  the tiny panel glowing in the  half-light of
the room. "We have searched high and low, but there is no sign of Lord Veovis in
D'ni. In  the circumstances  I have  given the  order for  the family Ages to be
searched. That  will happen  now. But  there is  one other  matter we  must deal
with."

Jadaris waved a hand over the Linking Book. "A guildsman ventured in four  hours
back. He found  another Book at  the foot of  the slope. It  linked back to this
very room."

Aitrus nodded  soberly. There  was a  moment's silence  and then  Master Jadaris
stood.

"So, Aitrus. Will you link through with me?"

*   *   *

They linked to  a cave on  the eastern slope  of a large,  mountainous island. A
cluster ot smaller islands surrounded it, linked by suspended wooden bridges. It
was on one  of these that  they finally found  the two guildsmen,  lying side by
side in a  hut beside the  cliffs edge, their  hands and feet  bound tight. They
were long dead,  their cloaks stiff  with their own  dried blood, their  throats
slit from ear to ear. On the floor  nearby was the dagger that had been used  to
kill them, lying beside its sheath as if abandoned.

It was Veovis's weapon. One he had been seen to carry often.

Aitrus saw  how Jadaris  stared at  the dagger;  saw the  strange flicker in the
muscles of  his neck,  the sudden  change in  his eyes,  and knew  that this had
finally convinced him. These were his men who had been murdered-his young  boys.
To see them like this-trussed and butchered-had clearly shocked him deeply.

As a team of  Maintainers arranged to bring  the bodies back, Aitrus  and Master
Jadaris linked back to K'veer. There  they were greeted by the news  that Veovis
had been taken in Nidur Gemat and was being held in the Book Room down below.

They went down, Aitrus hanging back as Jadaris walked across to confront Veovis.

Veovis's  hands  were bound  behind  his back.  Two  guards-Maintainers-stood to
either side of him, yet Veovis seemed unrepentant. His head was raised defiantly
and his eyes burned with indignation.

Jadaris held the sheathed dagger out before him. "Is this yours, Master Veovis?"

"It is," Veovis said. "What of it?"

"You do not deny it, then?"

But Veovis seemed not to hear. He took a step toward Jadaris.

"What have  I done  to deserve  this treatment.  Master Jadaris?  Am I  a common
criminal to be bound and herded like an animal?"

"We found the bodies," Jadaris said.

But Veovis did not  seem to be listening.  "I am not normally  an impatient man,
but I warn you, Guildsman. Unbind me now or you shall answer to my father!"

A shiver went through Jadaris. "It was your father who ordered it."

Veovis fell silent; the  words had taken him  aback. "Impossible," he said.  "He
would never have given such an order."

"Never?"  Jadaris  seemed to  watch  Veovis a  moment,  then: "Do  you  deny the
charges?"

"Charges?" Veovis laughed coldly, then  tilted his head slightly. His  eyes were
hostile now. "I do  not understand you, Master  Jadaris. Of what precisely  am I
charged?"

"Of trading in illicit Ages. And of murder."

The look of shock in Veovis's face surprised Aitrus. For a moment Veovis  seemed
unable to speak, then  he shook his head.  "But this is ridiculous!  I have done
nothing."

"We have the proof," Jadaris said coldly.  "But I am not your judge, Veovis.  At
least, not alone."

Jadaris seemed to straighten, taking on his full authority, then spoke again.

"Guild Master Veovis, you will be taken from this place to the Guild Fortress of
Irrat where you will be held secure until a date is set for your trial."

"My trial?" Veovis's expression was one of sheer disbelief.

Jadaris nodded, yet he  seemed far from triumphant.  "This is a sad  day for the
guilds, Lord  Veovis. You  have brought  great shame  upon us,  and even greater
shame upon your father."

"But I have done nothing!"

Jadaris glared at him.  "Nothing? You will be  silent. Guild Master, or  I shall
have you gagged!"

Veovis blinked, astonished. His mouth opened, then snapped shut.

"Good," Jadaris said curtly. "Now take him from here. Before I am tempted to  do
to him what he did to those poor boys."

*   *   *

Aitrus returned home to find the blinds drawn, doctors hurrying to and fro.  His
mother, Tasera, greeted him in the  hallway, her face gaunt, her eyes  troubled.
Gehn had worsened, it seemed, and almost died. It was she who had finally called
in the Healers, when all else seemed hopeless.

Aitrus went through to the nursery,  fearing the worst. Anna was sitting  beside
the cot, clearly exhausted, staring down  at the feverish child as he  lay there
like a waxwork doll,  his eyes closed, his  breathing shallow. Nearby, a  doctor
spoke quietly,  urgently to  one of  his colleagues,  then, seeing  Aitrus, came
across.

"There's  little  we  can  do," he  said  sorrowfully.  "We  have tried  several
remedies, but the child seems unable to keep anything in his stomach. I fear  it
is up to the Maker now."

Aitrus thanked the man, then went  over and knelt beside Anna, resting  his hand
lightly on her knee.

"Ti'ana? ... Ti'ana? It's Aitrus. I'm back."

She turned her head slowly and looked down at him. "He's dying, Aitrus. Our  son
is dying."

The desolation in her face was unlike  anything he had ever seen. "No," he  said
softly. "He'll come through."

But she was  not to be  consoled. "You did  not hear him,  Aitrus. The sounds he
made. Such  awful, dreadful  sounds. And  the spasms.  Twice I  thought I'd lost
him."

"Maybe," he said, "but he's still here."

He took her hands and clenched them, looking up into her face. "Won't you  fight
for him, Ti'ana? Won't you help our son survive?"

Anna closed her eyes, pained by his words. "I've tried, Aitrus. The Maker  knows
I've tried my best. But I am so tired now. So very, very tired."

"Then rest, my love. It's my turn now."

Aitrus stood, then, bending down, lifted Gehn from the cot, holding him tightly,
securely  against  his shoulder.  The  child whimpered  a  little, then  settled
against him. He was so light now; there was so very little of him. The  lightest
breeze would carry him off.

Aitrus shuddered, filled with an ineffable tenderness for his infant son.  "Come
now, little one," he said  softly as he carried him  from the room. "Let us  see
what a little sunlight can do for you."

*   *   *

Veovis looked up from the summary  document and sighed. It was lies,  every word
of it, yet even he could see how convincing a case Aitrus had made against  him.
If  the Five  believed this-and  why should  they not?-then  he would  be  found
guilty, without a doubt.

Suahrnir. Suahrnir was the key, but Suahrnir could not be found.

Veovis's own statement lay  on the desk beside  his elbow- six pages  in his own
hand. At best it seemed  naive, at worst a tissue  of lies and excuses. He  knew
which his fellow guildsmen would think.

They had  let him  see the  evidence against  him; the  books and  documents and
letters, all of it written, or so it appeared, in his hand. Good forgeries  they
were-the  best he  had ever  seen-but forgeries  all the  same, for  he had  not
written a single word of what they had shown him.

He had pointed the finger  at Aitrus, but they had  expected that. It was to  be
expected, after all. To "humor" him, and perhaps to mollify his father, they had
even searched back in the guild records  to see whether there might not be  some
earlier instance of such  fraud, one that might  be attributable to Aitrus,  but
there was nothing.

Aitrus was a  clever one. None  cleverer. He played  the honest man.  But Veovis
knew better. He knew now what a snake Aitrus was.

He heard the cell door open behind him and turned to see a guard bring in a pile
of clean clothes and place it on the bed in the far corner of the room.  Another
guard stood in the door, blocking it. The sight of it almost made him laugh, for
it suggested that he might try to escape, and when did a D'ni Lord run from  his
fate?

Veovis turned back to the copy statement,  then pushed it away from him. It  was
no use. There was no way he could answer this. It was like grasping at phantoms.

He even understood it, now that he had had time to reflect upon it.

How long  had Aitrus  prepared this?  Since he  had refused  to countenance  the
wedding, no doubt.

Veovis stood and stretched.  Was that all Aitrus  wanted? To bring him  down? Or
was there more? Was there some further part he could not see?

Veovis crossed  the room  and sat  on the  edge of  the bed,  beside the pile of
clothes. He felt weary now and in need of sleep. Too much had happened much  too
quickly.

He reached out and picked up the pile of clothes, meaning to move it so that  he
could  stretch out  on the  bed, but  the pile  was heavier  than he   expected.
Strangely heavy, in  fact. He put  it down, then  began to sort  through it, his
brows knitted.

There! Halfway down  the pile his  fingers closed on  something hard. A  book! A
leather-covered Book!  He drew  it out  and stared  at it,  amazed. There was no
mistaking it-It was a Linking Book. He opened it. There, on the right-hand page,
the tiny panel glowed invitingly.

It was a trap. It had to be, or a test of some kind. He closed the Book and  set
it down.

A trap. Of course it was.

But what if it was not. What if this was his father's doing? Veovis stood,  then
closed his eyes, wracked by indecision. This was his chance to prove himself  an
honest man. If he handed in the Book ...

He groaned, then sat once more. Who  was he fooling? They would find him  guilty
whatever. The evidence was  too strong against him.  And what then? Two  hundred
years, he'd spend, trapped on some hideous, tiny island on a Prison Age, watched
every second of the day and night.

The thought was unbearable. Opening the  Book again, he placed his hand  against
the panel ... and linked.

*   *   *

Lord R'hira stepped into the empty  cell and looked about him. The  Linking Book
lay on the bed where Veovis had left  it only a moment before. He stared at  it,
then shook  his head.  A while  later he  heard a  shout from  farther down  the
hallway-a curse that turned into a groan.

So now you know, R'hira thought sadly.  And what will that knowledge do to  you,
Veovis?

The Book  had linked  to an  enclosed room  on a  different Age,  in which was a
table. On that  table was a  second Linking Book  and a tank  of acid. It  was a
classic escape maneuver, and Veovis, naturally, had seen exactly what to do.

But that second Book linked right back to D'ni-to the interrogation cell at  the
end of the hallway, wherein sat Master Jadaris and his guards.

R'hira sighed. Had  Veovis known it  was a test?  Or was this  simply some final
piece of arrogance on his part?

He turned. Rakeri was standing in the doorway, his eyes dark with the  knowledge
of what his son had done.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, but Rakeri shook his head.

"Do what you must," the old man said. "I wash my hands of him."

*   *   *

Aitrus woke, not knowing where he was.  It was bright, too bright to fully  open
his eyes.

Gemedet. I must be on Gemedet.

Squeezing his eyes  shut again, he  searched about him  with his hand  until his
fingers closed upon his glasses. He pulled them on, then slowly opened his  eyes
again. The filters in the glass made the brightness bearable.

It was morning. Or maybe afternoon. How long had he slept?

Then he remembered.

"Gehn!"

He sat up, looking  about him anxiously, then  relaxed. Gehn lay not  three feet
away from him, swaddled  in a blanket where  Aitrus had laid him  last night. He
lay there silently, his tiny glasses  shielding his eyes against the light  that
shone in a broad band through the window just above them.

Aitrus shuffled across, then picked up his baby son, cuddling him for a  moment,
then putting a hand lightly to his brow.

The fever had passed.

Gehn stared back at  him, curiously, his eyes  placid, calm. D'ni eyes,  for all
the doctors said.

"You came  through," Aitrus  said, smiling  at him,  proud suddenly  of his son.
"Look at you, there's nothing of you, Gehn, yet you came through. You lived!"

There was a noise  outside. Aitrus turned. Was  it some forest animal,  sniffing
about the camp? Then he heard the soft hum of Anna's voice and smiled.

He stood, carrying the child out to her. She was standing with her back to  him,
looking out across the valley and  the mist-wreathed waterfall. For a moment  he
simply stood there, watching her, conscious of how the sunlight formed a shining
wreath about her long, flowing hair, then he spoke.

"Ti'ana?"

She turned, smiling at him. "I wondered when you would wake."

"Look," he said, holding out Gehn to her. "The fever's gone."

"I know," she said, coming across and  taking Gehn from him. "I came in  earlier
and saw. I thought I'd let you both sleep."

He looked up at the  sky. The sun was sinking  toward the west. "It's late,"  he
said. "How long have we slept?"

"A full day  and more," she  said, smiling broadly  at him. "It  clearly did you
good."

"Yes," he  agreed. Then,  as if  suddenly recalling  something, he laughed. "You
know, I had a dream last night."

"A dream?" she looked at him, intrigued.  "What kind of dream? A pleasant one  I
hope."

He smiled. "Oh yes. I dreamed we walked the tunnels to the surface. You and I...
and Gehn. And  you took us  to all of  those places you  have told me  of in the
past, even to Tad) mar itself."

"And the Lodge?"

"Yes." He nodded, staring out past her  as if he really saw it. "I  dreamed that
we stayed there and that I sat there in the window with you, looking out  across
the desert. There was a  full moon above us and  the sky was full of  stars. And
Gehn ... I could hear Gehn sleeping in the room behind us."

"Maybe it will happen, one day."

"You think so?"

She was quiet a moment, then, "I heard what happened... with Veovis."

"Ah ..." He  nodded, then, "I  do not know  what to think,  Ti'ana. The Veovis I
knew would never have acted in such a fashion."

"Yet people change."

Aitrus looked directly at her. "Do they? I  am not so sure, my love. What a  man
is, he is. Though Veovis is no friend, I would yet trust him above many who call
themselves my friend. And do you forget ... he brought you home that time."

"It was but common courtesy."

"Was  it?  And  yet  that  same man  is  charged  with  callously  murdering two
guildsmen. Do you really think him capable of that?"

Anna looked down, troubled. "Of course ... you have not heard, have you?"

"Heard what?" Aitrus asked.

"The Five Lords  tested him. Secretly  gave him a  Linking Book, in  his cell on
Irrat. He took it and tried to escape. No honest man would do that, would they?"

Aitrus stared at her a moment, then looked down. "So it is true, after all."

"It seems so."

"And Lord Rakeri? How has he taken the news?"

"Badly," Anna said, rocking  Gehn gently. "It appears  he has taken to  his bed.
Some say he is dying."

Aitrus looked  down, touched  deeply by  the new?.  "Then it  is an  ill day for
D'ni," he said quietly. "An ill day indeed."

*   *   *

The narrow streets leading to the great Guild House were packed as the  carriage
carrying Veovis rattled through the gates, drawn by two great oxen.

After twenty  days of  evidence, the  Council was  to give  their verdict. Never
before had so  high a public  figure been on  trial, and never  for such heinous
crimes.

To trade in illicit  Books was bad enough,  but to kill one's  fellow guildsmen,
that  was unheard  of. And  that was  why they  crowded into  the narrow  spaces
between the great houses  of the upper city,  straining to get a  glimpse of the
villain of the piece, Veovis.

Some saw  him as  a greedy  man, for  whom great  riches had  never been enough.
Others commented on his hypocrisy and saw his protestations of innocence in  the
face of such a weight of fact as a sure sign of his mental instability.

This was the  atmosphere in which  Veovis stepped down  from the carriage,  and,
climbing the marble steps of the Guild House, crossed the outer room and entered
the great chamber to hear the verdict of his peers.

A temporary gallery had been built at one end of the chamber especially for  the
occasion-a temporary  affair that  seated those  few dozen  guests who  had been
invited by the Council to bear witness. Among these were the families of the two
dead guildsmen, A-'Gaeris, and Aitrus's wife, Ti'ana.

Anna was  now a  D'ni citizen.  In a  private ceremony,  a week earlier, she had
become by law what  blood nor marriage could  make her. It was  a precedent, but
one the Council approved.

But now the moment  had come. As Veovis  stepped out between the  great doors, a
silence fell over the great, circular  chamber. From their seats on the  various
levels, every member turned to look.

Veovis had had his hair  cut stubble short. He  wore a simple one-piece  of rust
red cloth. There were iron manacles  about his wrists, linked by a  short length
of chain, and manacles at both ankles, from which two fine steel chains led back
into the hands of a Maintainer guard; a big man, capable, it seemed, of  holding
back a team of horses.

Even so, Veovis stood there a moment  with his head high, his eyes as  proud, as
unbowed, as an eagle's, then he began to descend the steps, passing between  the
great pillars.

Below Veovis, in the center of the chamber, stood the five great thrones of  the
Five Lords of D'ni, but today only four of them were filled. As Veovis came to a
halt  in the  space before  them, the  great Lords  stared at  him like   living
statues, their dignity immense.

There was a moment's silence, tense, expectant, and then Lord R'hira spoke.

"Guildsmen. Have you decided?"

There was a resounding "Aye!" from all sides of the chamber.

"And your verdict?"

"Guilty!" 360 voices said as one.

It was done. Veovis seemed to tremble;  yet his head did not waver, nor  did his
eyes show even a flicker of regret* If anything he seemed even more defiant than
before.

R'hira looked to  him, his ancient  eyes cold, no  trace of compassion  in them.
"Before I come to your sentence, is there anything you would like to say,  Guild
Master Veovis?"

Veovis met the ancient's eyes, then shook his head.

"Very well. Then it is  the decision of this House  that you be stripped of  all
rank and that from henceforth your membership of the guild be annulled. Further,
you will be taken from here and on the seventeenth hour fifteen days hence  will
be transferred to a suitable Prison Age,  to be held there for the remainder  of
your natural life."

All eyes were  on Veovis. From  her seat in  the gallery Anna  saw how fine, how
dignified he looked in this his  final moment and felt the slightest  flicker of
doubt cross her  mind. Yet he  was guilty. She  had heard and  seen enough these
past twenty days to  know that much. Glancing  across, she saw how  A'Gaeris was
leaning forward.  What was  that gleam  in his  eyes? Delight  that justice  had
finally been done? Or was it simple gloating?

She looked down briefly, a shiver  of distaste running through her, then  looked
back, her eyes  seeking out Aitrus  where he sat  in the first  row, just behind
Veovis.

As Veovis turned, preparing to climb  the steps again and leave the  chamber, he
halted.briefly,  right in  front of  Aitrus, staring  down at  his  once-friend.
Something seemed to be said, then he walked on, his bare, manacled feet climbing
the stone, the big Maintainer trailing behind.

Anna waited, as the great Lords ended the session, then, as the members began to
stand, a great murmur  of talk rising in  the chamber, she hurried  quickly down
the steps.

Aitrus was  standing in  the midst  of a  tiny group  of other  members. As  she
stepped into their  circle they broke  off their animated  discussion, bowing to
her respectfully.

"What did he say?" she asked, looking anxiously to Aitrus.

He hesitated, conscious of the others listening. "Not here, Ti'ana."

She frowned. "Did he threaten you?"

Aitrus shook his head, but he was awkward now. Looking about him apologetically,
he stepped across the circle and, taking Anna's arm, led her away.

"Well?" she asked,  when they were  outside, out of  the hearing of  the others.
"What did he say?"

Aitrus  turned from  her, as  if he  could not  face her.  He seemed  pale  now,
discomfited. "He blames me."

"Is that what he said. That he blames you?"

Aitrus shook his head.

"Well, tell me, Aitrus. What did he say?"

Aitrus turned, looking directly at her.  '"You should have let me fall.'  That's
what he said."

"But you are not to blame."

"No? I wish I could believe that. At the end there, watching him-even after  all
that was said and shown-do you know  what I thought? I thought he was  innocent.
That is what I thought. And yet I said 'Aye* with all the rest. And sent him  to
his rock."

"Do you want to do something? To say something, perhaps, to the Five?"

He laughed  bitterly. "What  could I  say? No.  I must  live with  this, Ti'ana.
Knowing I might have been wrong. Yes, and knowing that I was the one who set the
wheels in motion Those great  wheels of the D'ni state  that can crush a man  as
easily as our great hammers pound the rock."

They stood there a moment, silent, staring at each other, and then Anna took his
arm and led him out.  Yet even as they stepped  out beneath the massive arch  at
the front of the Guild House, the great bell on Ae'Gura began to sound,  sending
its sonorous tones across the cavern.

Lord Raken was dead.



PART SIX
THE INK IN THE WELL

It was the  fourth anniversary of  Gehn's naming day  and a solemn  ceremony was
taking place in the family mansion in D'ni. Until today, Gehn had been a  child,
free to play  as a child  played, but from  this hour onward  he would take  the
first steps toward becoming a guildsman.

Looking on, Anna  felt deeply for  her son. Standing  amid the guild  officials,
little Gehn looked  terrified. His hair  had been cut  and he was  wearing guild
clothes-duplicates of those his father, Aitrus, and his grandfather Kahlis  wore
as they stood on either side of him. In front of them, behind a special  trestle
table that had  been set up  in the room,  stood Yteru, the  Grand Master of the
Guild of Books. It was to his guild that Gehn was to be apprenticed, and the boy
would join them in their halls two weeks from now.

Two days ago, knowing how much her son was dreading the occasion, Anna had  gone
to Aitrus in his study and asked him  if Gehn really did need to join the  guild
just then. He was sure to miss  home dreadfully, but Aitrus was adamant. It  was
the D'ni way, and if Gehn was to be considered D'ni and make his eventual way in
the world, then he must conform to the ways of the guilds.

And so she was to relinquish him, long before he was ready to be taken from her.
It would break  his heart and  hers, but maybe  Aitrus was right.  Maybe, in the
long run, it would be best for him. Yet she had her doubts.

As the Grand Master called the boy forward, she- found herself praying  silently
that he would remember the words she had taught him-the words of the guild oath.

Slowly, stumblingly, Gehn forced them  out. As he finished, Master  Yteru smiled
benevolently down at  the child, then,  in a slow,  sonorous drawl, uttered  the
words of acceptance.

And so it was done. Her son was now a guildsman.

Afterward, she held him,  telling him how proud  she was, but she  could see the
fear of separation in his eyes.

Aitrus had  been saying  his farewells  to the  guildsmen; now  he came back. He
stood in the doorway, looking in at her and Gehn. "Are you angry with me?"

She nodded.

He sighed, exasperated. "I am sorry,  Ti'ana, but you know how things  stand. It
is the D'ni way,  and we cannot  afford to act  differently. That would  be self
indulgent. You knew that when you became D'ni."

"I know," she said, as angry at herself as at him, "but I did not think it would
be so hard."

"No. But there is one thing we can do. Before Gehn goes, that is."

"You want to go to Gemedet?"

Aitrus shook his head. "I promised you once. Remember?"

At first she did not understand; then her eyes widened.

He nodded.

"Yes, Ti'ana. It's time our son saw where his mother came from."

*   *   *

The journey through the tunnels took two days. On the morning of the third  they
came to the cavern where the two great digging machines stood silently. As  Anna
and Gehn came up beside him, Aitrus turned to them and smiled.

"We are almost there." He pointed across  at the great red wedge of rock  facing
them. "There is the seal. The surface must be just above."

Anna nodded. "This is where I came in. I remember it vividly. The machines  ..."
She stared at them fondly, then smiled. "Do you know what I thought, Aitrus?"

"No, tell me."

"I thought I had discovered  the tomb of a great  king. And these ... I  thought
these were the remains of some  great civilization, a long-lost race of  giants,
perhaps, or ..." She laughed. "Little did I know."

Aitrus looked at her fondly. "I am glad you chose to look, Ti'ana. But for  that
curiosity of yours, I would have been lost."

Anna looked away,  a smile on  her lips. "Oh,  I am sure  some young D'ni maiden
would have found you."

He laughed. "Maybe. But let us press on now. I am impatient to see the surface."

Gehn, who had been  silent until that moment,  now spoke up. "Daddy?  Why did we
not link to the surface?"

Aitrus came back and, crouching before his son, began to explain. "If this  were
a different Age, then we might have linked to it, but the surface is in the same
Age as D'ni and one cannot link to a place in the same Age."

"What, never?" the boy asked, wide-eyed.

"Never," Aitrus said, smiling patiently.

Gehn frowned, considering that, then looked back up at his father. "But how will
we find our way back to D'ni?"

Aitrus took  his notebook  from his  pocket and  opened it.  Inside, between the
tanned leather covers, were page after page of maps and diagrams. Aitrus flicked
through it for a  while, then, coming to  the page, turned the  notebook so that
Gehn could see.

"Look, Gehn. Here is a map of the  tunnels. I have been making notes as we  went
along. We need only trace our way back."

It seemed to satisfy  the boy. He grinned,  then went across to  his mother, who
stood beneath one of the great machines. She put her arm about him, then  looked
back at Aitrus.

"When I first saw these, I was convinced that whoever had made them must be long
dead, for what kind of race  would make such wonderful machines then  leave them
in the rock?"

Aitrus smiled then walked across to her. "Was it this one that you climbed?"

She nodded.

"You  climbed it,  Mama?" Gehn  asked, looking  up at  his mother  in  wide-eyed
wonder.

"I did. And then I walked down into  D'ni. Only I did not know it was  D'ni. Not
until long after."

They went through the gap, Anna leading the way, Gehn close behind. Reaching the
pocket, Aitrus lit the  lantern again. He knew  what lay ahead-Anna had  already
told him-but  now they  were so  close, he  felt a  strange excitement. How many
years now had he waited for this?

Fifty years, at last.

Anna was first to climb down. At the bottom she turned, reaching up to take Gehn
as Aitrus let him down. Then they  were in the cavern, where it had  first begun
for Anna, all those years ago. She looked to him.

"It hasn't changed."

They went on,  climbing up into  the tunnel and  along, until the  three of them
stood before the rock fall.

Aitrus set the timer, then took them  back ro a safe distance. There was  a huge
bang. The whole tunnel shuddered. As the smoke cleared, Anna picked Gehn up and,
following Aitrus, walked through, stepping over the rubble.

It was night. A full moon rested like a shining disk of silver in the center  of
the blue-black  velvet sky.  Surrounding it,  a billion  flickering stars  shone
down.

Aitrus stood there at the entrance to the tunnel, staring up at the moon. Beside
him, Anna held Gehn against her side, her face close to his, and pointed.

"Look, Gehn. That's the moon."

"Moon," he said, snuggling in to her, tired now.

Anna smiled then turned her head, looking to Aitrus. He met her eyes and smiled.

"Come," he said, taking her hand, "let's find the Lodge."

*   *   *

They sat on the ledge of the  open window, looking out across the narrow  bridge
toward the desert. Gehn was asleep in the room behind them.

Anna listened a moment, then smiled. Aitrus sat just behind her, his arms  about
her, his chin resting on  the top of her head.  It had been her secret  dream to
bring him here and sit  with him like this, yet  now that it was real  it seemed
more dreamlike  than the  dream-a moment  wholly out  of time.  She pressed back
against him and felt his arms tighten about her.

"Do you still miss him?" he asked softly.

"Sometimes."

She half-turned her head, looking back at him. "He speaks to me sometimes. In my
head."

Aitrus smiled, but she could see he only half-believed her, or maybe thought she
meant that she thought  other father and remembered  his words. But it  was true
what she said.

She felt Aitrus sigh, a sigh  of pure contentment, and turned back,  letting her
eyes go to the descending moon once more, the smile lingering at the corners  of
her mouth.

"Ti'ana?"

"Hmm?" she answered lazily.

"I know how  much you loved  your father, and  how much you  owed to him, but...
well, what of your mother? You never speak of her."

"No."

Even the thought of it brought back the pain.

"Ti'ana?" Aitrus sat forward.

"It's all right," she said.

She  began  again,  hunching  forward  as  she  spoke,  letting  the  words come
haltingly. "It was an accident. We were climbing. In the mountains to the  south
of here. My father had gone up the cliff face first, and I had followed.  Mother
was last, all three of us tied on  the same rope. Father had walked on a  little
way, to  inspect the  cliffs we  had glimpsed  from below.  That was why we were
there, you see. We were always exploring."

Anna stopped,  catching her  breath. Again  she saw  it, vividly,  as if  it had
happened not  thirty-five years  ago but  yesterday-the staring  eyes, the mouth
open in surprise.

Anna collected herself, then  carried on. "The difficult  part of the climb  was
behind her and she was only six or eight feet from the edge. I could almost have
put out a hand and hauled her up. She was smiling. And then her foot slipped. It
ought not to have mattered. The rope ought to have held her. I felt a  momentary
tension on it, then it went, like a rotten vine. And next thing she was falling.
And not a sound-just her eyes looking back at me, her mouth open in surprise.

"Father blamed  himself, of  course. He  should have  checked the  rope, he kept
saying, but I could see that he was devastated."

Aitrus was silent  a while. "I  am sorry, Ti'ana,  I did not  know. I should not
have asked."

She turned to face him, kneeling on the ledge. Her face was screaked with tears,
but she was smiling tenderly now. She reached out, her hands gently holding  his
cheeks. "No,  Aitrus. You  of all  people should  have known.  We should have no
secrets, you and I."

She kissed him then; softly, tenderly, her eyes shining in the moonlight. And as
they broke from the kiss, his eyes were wide with wonder.

*   *   *

Gehn woke him, shaking him awake. Sunlight blazed in from the room at the  front
of the Lodge, so strong it stabbed  into his pupils, making him shield his  eyes
then feel about him for his glasses.

"Mama's gone!" Gehn was saying. "Mama's gone!"

Aitrus pulled  on the  glasses, then  sat up,  putting out  his arms to hold the
frightened boy. "No, Gehn. She will be back. I promise you."

But Gehn was sobbing uncontrollably at the thought that he had lost his  mother.
Aitrus held Gehn  tightly until the  crying subsided, then,  picking him up,  he
carried him out, through the room at the front until they stood in the  doorway,
looking out over the valley.

The heat  surprised him.  It could  not be  more than  an hour  since dawn,  yet
already it was far hotter than the hottest day on Gemedet or Ko'ah. He  recalled
what Anna had said about the heat; how it was the single factor that  determined
life here. It was not something he would have written into an Age, but  someone,
the Grand  Master who  had written  the Book  of Earth,  had thought  of it, and
created the conditions for such extremes of cold and heat.

Gehn had fallen silent, yet he still  clung to his father's neck as if  his life
depended on it. Aitrus looked at him and smiled.

"You want a drink, Gehn?"

Gehn nodded.

Aitrus took him back inside, setting  him gently down on the window  ledge while
he poured him  a goblet of  cool, clear water  from the jug  Anna had filled the
night before.

Turning, he saw how Gehn was staring about him. "Where are we?" he asked, taking
the water gratefully.

"This is  where your  mother lived  when she  was young,"  he answered. "This is
where she grew up, with her father."

"Here?" Gehn seemed astonished. "But where are the Books?"

Airrus laughed. "These people are human. They are not like the D'ni. They do not
have Books and Ages. This is all they have."

Gehn wiped his mouth with the back  of his hand, then looked up at  Aitrus. "But
how could they live with just this?"

Airrus  looked about  him. To  be honest,  he had  asked himself  the very  same
question. Now that he had seen the Lodge, he wondered how Anna had survived  out
here.

"They made do,"  he answered, finally.  Yet even as  he said it  he heard Anna's
voice. She was singing. A song he had never heard before, in a tongue he did not
know.

Quickly he joined Gehn at the window, in time to see Anna come over the crest of
the hill, a small cart pushed before her. She was wearing a black cloak  trimmed
with red, the hood of which was  up over her head. Seeing them, she  waved, then
came on again, finishing her song.

Aitrus went out onto  the bridge, Gehn beside  him. The heat was  fierce but not
yet overpowering.  As Anna  came up  onto the  bridge, she  smiled and  held out
something  for Gehn  to take.  He ran  to her  and took  the strange  box,  then
scuttled back inside, into the shade.  Anna pulled, back her hood, then  stepped
up to Aitrus.

"You should  wear something  on your  head," she  said, touching  his brow. "Ten
minutes in this and you will get sunstroke."

"Sunstroke?" He did not understand her.

"The heat," she said. "It will affect your brain. You will collapse and be ill."

"You are jesting with me," he said, smiling, as if he understood she was joking,
but she was not smiling.

"It is very dangerous out here," she  said simply. "Both you and Gehn must  keep
covered up as much as possible. The desert sun is unforgiving."

He nodded, then, "Where have you been? And that cart..."

Anna half-turned, looking across at the cart, then she turned back to Aitrus. "I
went to  get it.  It had  all my  books and  journals on  it. And  other things.
Fortunately I hid it well, and the desert did the rest. It was untouched, as  if
I'd left it yesterday."

"And that song. What was that?"

Anna smiled. "Did  you like it?"  She quickly sang  a verse. "It's  something my
mother taught me.  I could not  sing it before.  But now ..."  Again she smiled,
then took his arm, leading him back into the shadows of the Lodge.

As they came into the main room, Gehn looked up at them, his eyes wide. "What is
this game?"  he asked,  pointing to  the checkered  board, the  black and  white
pieces that were laid out beside it.

"It is called chess," she said,  squatting beside him. "My father taught  me how
to play, and I shall teach you."

Gehn beamed. "So I am not going to go to the Guild Hall after all?"

Anna looked down. "No, Gehn. You must go.  But not yet. We will stay here for  a
few days, yes? Just you and I and Father."

Gehn looked away  a moment, struggling  with his disappointment,  then he nodded
and, turning back to Anna, picked up the white queen. "So what is this piece and
what does it do?"

*   *   *

"Thinblood ..."

"Who-man..."

"No-dunny ..."

The whispers surrounded Gehn in the darkness of the dormitory; endless, taunting
whispers that filled the  lonely nights. Gehn lay  there, facing the bare  stone
wall, the knuckles of his right hand  pressed into his mouth, trying to shut  it
all out, but still the whispers came.

The mattress  was too  thin beneath  him, the  blankets rough  and scratchy. But
worst of all was  the sense of abandonment  that came each evening  as the great
door to the dormitory was closed and absolute darkness fell.

It was awful. More awful than he  had ever thought possible. They had heard  him
crying the first few nights and had laughed at him for it. And then the whispers
had begun, playing upon his fears and insecurity, making his life even more of a
misery than it already was.

At home he was used to his own room, his own smooth sheets and blankets.  There,
a night-light rested in  the corner, warm and  reassuring. And he knew  that his
mother was always there,  next door, in case  bad dreams came and  disturbed his
sleep. But  here there  was nothing.  Nothing but  the darkness  and the endless
hurtful whispers.

Why had  they done  this to  him? Why?  Had he  been bad?  If so,  he could  not
remember what it was that  he had done. Or did  they no longer love him?  For to
leave  him here,  among these  awful, spiteful  boys, was  surely some  kind  of
punishment.

He could remember his father's face,  unnaturally stern, as he spoke to  him the
night before he had come here.

"You must be brave, Gehn. It is the  D'ni way. It might seem hard at first,  but
you will get used to it, I promise you."

So much for promises. But the worst had been the parting from his mother. He had
kicked and screamed, refusing to go  with them, so that eventually they  had had
to pick him up and carry him to the waiting carriage.

That had  been two  weeks ago  now. Two  weeks of  endless homesickness, and the
torment of the nights.

Yet even as the whispers multiplied,  Gehn found himself thinking of the  lesson
earlier that day.  He had begun  to think himself  a fool; had  begun to believe
that the boys were right when they called him "No-dunny" and said he had sand in
his head instead  of brains. But  today he had  begun to understand  what he was
doing here, for today he had seen Master Urren.

Gehn  was taught  in a  group of  eight, the  eldest aged  seven, the   youngest
himself. Most of it was basic, the kind of stuff his mother had taught him  back
at home, but some was specific  stuff about ink and writing; today's  lecture in
particular.

Master  Urren, the  visiting tutor  from the  Guild of  Ink-Makers, was  a  big,
ungainly, birdlike  man, with  a long,  thin face  and huge  bushy eyebrows that
seemed to  form a  continuous line  across his  upper face.  He had the habit of
staring into the air as  he spoke, as if in  a trance, then looking directly  at
one or other of his  pupils, startling them. But it  was not this habit but  his
words that had woken Gehn this morning.

With his eyes closed, Gehn could  see Master Urren now, his right  hand clenched
into a fist as he spoke the Ink-Maker's litany.

"What binds the Word to the World? The Ink!

"What burns the bridge between the Ages? The Ink!

"What forms the living darkness between two lights? The Ink!"

Then, to the astonishment  of them all,  he had brought  out a great  tub of ink
lifting a handful of the fine dark granules so that they could see.

"The manufacture of this  is a secret. A  very grave and great  secret, like the
secret of the paper, which  in time each of you  will learn. But you must  first
prove yourself worthy to be trusted with such a secret, for the making of  these
two things is the key to immense power-the power to make worlds!"

And there was more,  the words issuing thunderously  from Urren's lips, so  that
Gehn had found himself staring at the guildsman openmouthed, amazed by the power
of the words.  This, he realized,  was what his  father had been  talking about.
This was what it meant to be a guildsman. Until that moment he had thought it  a
senseless thing to want to be,  but suddenly, in one single, blazing  moment, he
understood.

Gehn turned and  lay upon his  back, letting his  hand fall onto  his chest. The
whispers had stopped now. Soft snoring filled the silent darkness of the  narrow
room.

Secrets. He was to be the heir to great and wo'nderful secrets. Twenty years  it
might take, but  then he would  know, as Master  Urren knew, and  maybe then his
eyes would burn with that same ferocious knowledge, that same certainty.

Gehn shivered, then, wiping his hand across his face, formed the words  silently
in the darkness.

It is the D'ni way.

*   *   *

The ink-works were burning. Great  flames curled up into the  darkness, lighting
the roof of the  cavern almost a mile  overhead. Gehn stood on  the stone ledge,
staring out the window across the  rooftops of the upper city. Surrounding  him,
his fellow students jostled to see, but  he stood at the very front, both  hands
tightly grasping  the great  central bar  of the  pane-less window,  looking out
across the dark toward the massive blaze.

They had heard the explosion twenty minutes  back, but at the time they had  not
understood just what was happening. Now they knew. Someone had placed a bomb  in
the very middle of the Ink-Works. Many were dead. Many more were missing.

For the past  eight weeks there  had been incidents.  Senior guildsmen had  been
mysteriously  attacked.  Offices  had  been  ransacked.  In  the  worst  of  the
incidents, three Kortee'nea-  blank Books-had gone  missing, along with  a whole
stock of  smaller Linking  Books. The  Maintainers had  been placed  on constant
alert; no one knew yet who was behind the outbreak.

And now this.

There was  a shout  in the  corridor behind  them. Gehn  turned, along  with the
others, to see the Duty Master hurrying down the corridor toward them, his hands
waving madly.

"Boys! Boys! Get down from there at once!"

They climbed  down, obedient  to their  Guild Master,  yet as  Gehn went to walk
away, he saw how the Master hung  back at the window, staring out at  the blaze,
the glowing orange light reflected in his pale eyes, a look of pure fear  etched
in his face.

*   *   *

Aitrus did not wait to be summoned but went straight to the Guild House. All but
two or three of  the Emergency Council were  already there, the others  arriving
very shortly after Aitrus. As Lord R'hira called the meeting to order, a  Master
from the Guild  of Maintainers hurried  in and, bowing  to R'hira, gave  him the
latest report from the Ink-Works.

Fifteen had  died. Another  eight were  missing. It  was too  early to  know for
certain, but it seemed that a large stock of ink had been taken.

"But how was this possible?" Master Jadaris asked, when his man had finished.

"Someone is  linking to  places throughout  D'ni," Guild  Master Jerahl answered
him. "Someone with special knowledge of the guilds."

"Someone?"  R'hira  queried, looking  about  the table.  "Or  are there  several
miscreants? Look at the pattern of the attacks. Not one but six separate  guilds
have now  been targeted.  And who  knows where  they will  strike next? The only
thing these incidents have in common is that they know the intimate workings  of
the guilds.  They know  where we  are vulnerable.  They know  precisely where to
attack and when."

"Veovis?"

All eyes turned to Aitrus, who had spoken the name.

"Impossible," Jadaris said, after a moment. "He is more than safe where we  have
put him."

"Is he?" Lord R'hira asked, leaning toward the Grand Master. "When did you  last
check on him?"

"Three weeks ago. After the first of these incidents."

"But before the remainder, yes?"

Jadaris nodded. Then, shaking his head. "No.  I refuse to believe it. But if  my
fellow guildsmen would like me to check?"

"Do so, Master Jadaris," R'hira said. "And let us know what you discover."

Jadaris bowed to R'hira and left.

R'hira looked  about the  table. "Whoever  this is-and  we must  not leap to any
assumptions without full  and proper knowledge-they  aim to create  a climate of
fear, and what better  way than to engage  in a meaningless sequence  of violent
events?"

"Do you think that is what's happening here?" Master Jerahl asked.

"I do. But there  is something none of  you know about. Something  that has been
kept a secret among the Five. In  view of this latest outrage, however, we  feel
you ought to know of it." R'hira paused significantly, then, looking down at his
hands, said, "One of  the Five great Books  has been desecrated. That  of Master
Talashar. In fact, the structure of  the text was so damaged and  distorted that
the Age has become unstable and we fear it will shortly self-destruct."

There was horror about the table.  This was one of their worst  fears-that their
Ages would be tampered with and destroyed.  And here was news that such a  thing
had happened, and not just to any  Age but to one of the five  "Classics," those
ancient, beautiful Ages made by the greatest of D'ni's Writers.

"Who  would  do  such a  thing?"  Hajihr  of the  Stone-Masons  asked,  his face
mirroring the shock everyone felt at that moment.

"I do not  know for certain,"  R'hira answered, "but  I am beginning  to have my
suspicions. If it is Veovis, then I'd judge he is not acting alone. And there is
one  other thing.  The new  entries were  in the  same hand  as that  of  Master
Talashar."

"But  he  died more  than  six thousand  years  ago," Jerahl  said,  voicing the
thoughts of all.

"That is so," R'hira said. "Yet the ink on the page was barely three weeks old."

There was a stunned  silence, then Aitrus spoke  again. "I think we  should find
A'Gaeris and hold him, until his part in this is fully known."

"You think he is involved, then?" Hajihr asked.

Aitrus shrugged. "He may be innocent, but I think not. I begin to share my  Lord
R'hira's doubts."

"And Veovis?" Jerahl asked, looking across at Aitrus.

"Perhaps Lord Veovis was innocent after all."

*   *   *

Guild Master Jadaris paused at the outer gate, waiting as the Master of the Keys
unlocked the ancient door that led down into the earth.

No part of D'ni lay deeper in the  rock than this, no part of the great  city in
the rock was more secure. A sloping  tunnel led from the inner gate down  to the
Gate of  Traitors, ten  spans into  the rock.  There, in  a cavern that had been
hollowed more than three thousand years before, lay the Cells of Entry.

Jadaris walked down the long passage between the cells. All but one were  empty.
So it was. For though there were  fifteen cells beyond the inner gate, few  were
ever  used, for  D'ni was  an orderly  society and  transgressions that  merited
incarceration on a Prison Age were rare indeed.

"He must be there," he muttered  to himself as, standing before the  solid stone
door ofVeovis's cell, he waited for the Master of the Keys to unlock.

But R'hira's words had rattled him. Lord R'hira did not act on whim. If he had a
suspicion, then like as not it was the truth. Even so, he could not believe that
Veovis was not in the Age.

As the door swung back, he pushed past his Key Master almost rudely, so  anxious
was he for confirmation one way or another.

The cell was bare, the walls plain rock. A single wooden chair and a table  were
the only furnishings.

The book, allowing  one to monitor  the Prison Age,  lay on the  desk, open, its
glowing panel visible.

Jadaris leaned over it. The  panel showed no sign of  Veovis at his desk in  the
Prison Age.

He turned, looking back at the squad of guards who had followed him and nodded.

"We go in."

*   *   *

Master Jadaris appeared in a room of metal. The floor of the linking chamber was
slatted  black metal,  the six  walls a  metallic blue  that was  almost  black,
undecorated and windowless,  featureless almost, except  for one large  panel on
the far wall  facing him. Dim  lighting panels in  the ceiling gave  the room an
underwater feel..In the center of the  floor was a hexagonal pedestal, on  which
rested the Linking Book. It appeared untouched.

More men were linking into the room now. Armed Maintainers, wearing sealed masks
and carrying air tanks on their backs, ready for any sort of trouble.

As Jadaris stood, the armed men positioned themselves along the walls to  either
side of him. At  Jadaris's signal, his first  assistant stepped up to  the panel
and placed a flat "locking square"  against the faint indentation in the  panel,
then stepped back.

There was  a heavy  thunk! as  all six  of the  steel locking bolts retracted at
once. With a hiss the door slid slowly into the floor.

Cold air  flooded the  room. Beyond  the door  a metal  walkway ran  on. Jadaris
sniffed again, an expression of acute  distaste in his face, then walked  toward
the doorway.

Stepping out onto the  walkway he looked up.  The sky was dark  and glowering, a
wintry sun obscured behind heavy cloud.

Facing him  was the  island. Jadaris  stared at  it, wortdering  what Veovis had
thought the first  time he had  seen it, knowing  that this was  to be his  home
henceforth, until he died.

The island was a great block of black volcanic rock, its tapered shape thrusting
up from a black and oily sea. Standing on top of that desolate rock was a  black
tower, its walls smooth and windowless. The walkway was an unsupported length of
metal some five or  six feet above the  surface, joining the linking  chamber to
the island. A set  of steps cut from  the rock lead up  from the walkway to  the
great door of the tower.

A cold, bleak wind blew from  Jadaris's left, whipping the surface of  the water
and making him pull his cloak tighter about him.

"Come," he said, half-turning to his men, "let us see what is to be seen."

The great door was locked.  As his Chief Jailer took  the key from his belt  and
stepped up to fit it to the  lock, Jadaris shook his head. It was  not possible.
It simply was not possible. Yet as they went from room to room in the tower, his
certainty dissolved. In the top  room was a table. On  it they found a meal  set
out. Yet the meal had been abandoned weeks ago and lay there rotting. Beside  it
lay three Linking Books.

Jadaris took the first of the three Books and stared at it. He did not know  how
it had been done, but Veovis had been sprung.

He shivered.  This whole  business filled  him with  profound misgivings. It was
hard to know just who to trust.

He opened the Linking Book and read a line or two. This one led straight back to
D'ni. Or so it seemed. It would be easy to check-he could send one of his guards
through-but that  was not  the way  they normally  did things.  It was not guild
practice to send  a man through  to any Age  without a Linking  Book to get them
back.

Jadaris  sat  there a  moment,  staring at  the  words, his  eyes  unseeing, his
thoughts elsewhere, then suddenly he  stood. Sweeping the rotting meal  onto the
floor, he lay the Book down in its place and opened it to the descriptive panel.
Then, looking  about him  at his  men, Jadaris  smiled and  placed his hand down
firmly on the panel.

*   *   *

There was the  acrid taste of  smoke in the  air as Veovis,  cloaked and hooded,
made his way along the alleyway toward the gate. The narrow streets of the lower
city were strangely crowded  for this late hour,  as people stood outside  their
houses to watch  the guildsmen fight  the great blaze  farther up the  city. The
light from that blaze flickered moistly in Veovis's eyes as he walked along, but
no one noticed a single figure  passing among them. Great events were  happening
in  the  cavern. They  had  all heard  the  explosion, and  rumor  was even  now
filtering down from the upper city. Guildsmen were dead. Some said as many as  a
hundred.

Stepping out from under the gate, Veovis  glanced up at the blaze. It was  still
some way above  him and to  his left. A  muscle twitched at  his cheek, then lay
still.  The guard  at the  gate had  barely glanced  at him  as he  passed,  his
attention drawn to the fire at the great Ink-Works. And so he walked on, passing
like a shadow among that preoccupied crowd.

The gate to the upper city lay just ahead.

*   *   *

Anna pulled on her  boots, then stood, looking  about her at the  room. A cloak.
Yes. She would need to take a cloak for him.

Going over  to the  linen cupboard,  she took  down one  of Gehn's cloaks. Then,
knowing that if  she thought too  long about it  she might change  her mind, she
quickly left the room, hurrying down the hallway and out the front door.

Outside Anna paused, her eyes going straight to the blaze. It was below her  and
slightly to the  left of where  she stood. What  it meant for  D'ni she did  not
know, but the sight of it had finally  made up her mind. She was going to  bring
Gehn home, whether Aitrus liked it or not. This had gone on far too long.

She hurried through the streets, yet as  she came into the lane that led  to the
Guild Hall, she found it barricaded, a squad ofMaintainers keeping back a  small
crowd of bystanders. Even  so, she went across,  begging to be allowed  to pass,
but the guards would not let her and eventually she turned, making her way  back
along the  street, wondering  if there  might not  be another  way to get to the
Hall.

Down. If she went down to the gate  and then across, she might come at the  Hall
by a different way.

She walked on, making for the gate, yet as she did, a man strode toward her.  He
was cloaked  and hooded  and kept  his head  down as  he walked,  as if  heavily
preoccupied. There was something strange about that, and as he brushed past her,
she caught a glimpse of his eyes beneath the hood.

She turned, astonished.

Veovis! It had been Veovis!

No. It could not be.

Anna swallowed, then, taking two steps, called out to the man. "Sir?"

But the man did  not stop. He went  on, hastening his pace,  disappearing into a
side street.

Anna hesitated a moment, then hurried after.

Turning the corner, she thought for a moment she had lost him; then she glimpsed
a shadowy figure at the end of the narrow lane, slipping into the side gate of a
darkened mansion.

Anna stopped, looking about her, but the lane was empty. If she was to find  out
what was happening she would have to do it herself.

Slowly, almost tentatively, she approached the  gate. The blaze was at her  back
now. In  its light  everything was  cast in  vivid shadows  of orange and black.
There was a  padlock on the  gate, but it  had been snapped  and now hung loose.
Anna leaned her weight gently on the door and pushed.

Inside was a tiny yard, enclosed by walls. A door on the far side was open. Anna
went across and stood in the  doorway, listening. Again she could hear  nothing.
She  slipped  inside, into  what  was clearly  a  kitchen. The  house  was dark,
abandoned, or, more likely,  boarded up. Only the  glow of the distant  fire lit
the room, giving each covered shape a wavering insubstantiality.

She crossed the room,  her footsteps barely audible.  A door led onto  the great
hallway of the mansion. The body dfthe hall was dark, but on the far side was  a
huge staircase, leading up to the next floor. A great window on the landing  let
in the pale red glow of the blaze.

Anna listened a moment,  then frowned. Perhaps she  had imagined it. Perhaps  he
had not come in here at all. After all, it was dark, and she had been quite some
distance off.

Briefly she wondered whose house this  was and why it was abandoned.  There were
portraits on the walls, but most were in heavy shadow, all detail obscured. Only
one, on the landing wall right next to the great window, could be discerned with
any  clarity, yet  even that,  in the  wavering glow,  seemed just  a head   and
shoulders. It could have been anyone. Anyone at all.

Across from her, on  the far side of  the hallway, were more  rooms. She quickly
went across and peered inside, into  the intense darkness, listening as much  as
looking. Again there was nothing.

She was about to go, to give up her fruitless search, when there was a  distinct
noise from the room overhead; a thump of something being put down; a heavy noise
of metal and wood.

Anna felt her heartbeat quicken. She  should not be here. Not alone,  anyway. If
it was Veovis, then he had escaped. And if he had escaped ...

She was in danger-she knew that for a certainty-but she could not stop  herself.
Not now. The spirit of  exploration was upon her. She  had to know if it  really
was him, and if so, what he was doing.

She went to the foot of the stairs, staring up past the turn. Was there a  faint
light up there or was she imagining it?

Slowly Anna began to climb the stairs, ready at any moment to rush down and  out
of the great  house. There were  more noises now;  the sounds of  someone taking
things and stowing them-in a sack, perhaps, or a bag. At the turn of the  stairs
she stopped,  glancing up  at the  portrait. She  was about  to go  on, when she
looked again at the painting, sudden understanding coming to her.

It was A'Gaeris, or one of his  ancestors so like him as to make  no difference.
The  figure  had  the same  querulous  eyes,  the same  long  brow  and receding
hairline, the same swept-back hair.

So this was your mansion once, Philosopher. Before you fell.

The knowledge was  a key. She  knew now that  it was Veovis  up above, and  that
A'Gaeris had somehow helped  him to escape. How  she did not know  just yet, but
perhaps she would discover that. given time.

Anna  climbed the  last few  stairs, then  stopped, her  hand on  the top  rail,
listening once more. The noises  were coming from a room  at the far end of  the
hallway-to her left  as she stood.  All the doors  to the right  of the corridor
were shut, so  it was not  the light of  the blaze she  had seen from  below. It
came, in fact, from a room just up the corridor and to the left.

Anna took a long, calming breath then began to walk toward it. But she had  only
gone two paces when Veovis stepped from the room at the far end of the  corridor
and  placed a  backpack down  on the  floor of  the hallway.  She stopped  dead,
certain he would see her,  but he did not even  glance her way. With a  sniff he
turned and went back inside.

She quietly let out a breath, then walked on.

In the doorway to  the first room she  stopped, staring down the  hallway to the
door of the end room, certam that he would step out at that moment and see  her,
but then she heard  him, whistling softly to  himself, his footsteps clearly  on
the far side of the room

She turned and looked inside It  was a study. Book-filled shelves were  on every
wall and a huge desk sat  in the far corner. On it  was a tiny lamp with a  pale
rose bulb of glass, lit by a  fire-marble In its glow she could see  the outline
of a Linking Book, the descriptive panel shining brightly.

For a moment she hesitated, then, walking across, she stood beside the desk and,
putting out her hand, placed it on the panel.

*   *   *

Veovis crouched, tying the  neck of the sack,  then carried it outside.  Lifting
the backpack, he slung it over his  shoulder then went along the hallway to  the
study

All was as he had  left it He glanced about  the study, then reached across  and
slid the catch back on the  lamp, dousing the fire-marble Slowly its  glow faded
As the room darkened, the brightness of the panel in the Linking Book seemed  to
intensify, until he seemed to be looking through a tiny window

Reaching out, Veovis covered that brightness with his hand, as if to  extinguish
it. For  a moment  the room  was dark;  then, slowly,  the vivid square of light
reappeared through the melting shape of his hand.

There was silence in the empty room.

*   *   *

Anna stood at the window, looking out at  a view that was as strange as any  she
had ever seen It was not simply that the sky had a heavy purplish hue, nor  that
the dark green sea seemed to move slowly, viscously, like oil in a bowl, it  was
the smell of this Age-an awful musty smell that seemed to underlie everything.

The chamber into which she had linked had been cut into the base of the  island,
forming a  kind of  cellar beneath  it. Knowing  that Veovis  was likely to link
after her, she had quickly left the room, hurrying up a flight of twisting metal
stairs and into  a gallery that  looked out through  strong glass windows  on an
underwater seascape filled with strange, sluggish creatures, dark-skinned,  with
pale red eyes and stunted fins.

Halfway along  this gallery,  facing the  windows, was  a large,  circular metal
hatch-wheel-operated, as on a ship. Anna glanced at it, then went on.

A second set of steps led up from the gallery into a spacious nest of rooms,  at
the center  of which  was a  six-sided chamber-a  study of  some kind Two of the
walls were filled floor  to ceiling with shelves,  on which were books.  Further
piles of ancient, leather-covered books were scattered here and there across the
wooden floor, as if dumped there carelessly A dozen or so large, unmarked crates
were stacked against the bare stone wall  on one side, next to one of  the three
doors that led  from the room  Two large desks  had been pushed  together at the
center These were covered with all manner of clutter, including several detailed
maps of D'ni-street plans  and diagrams of the  sewers and service runs.  In the
far  corner of  the room  a golden  cage hung  by a  strong chain  from the  low
ceiling. In it was a cruel-looking  hunting bird. Seeing Anna it had  lifted its
night-black, glossy wings as if to launch itself at her, then settled again, its
fierce eyes blinking from time to time as it studied her watchfully.

A long, dark  corridor led from  the nest of  rooms to the  chamber in which she
stood, which lay  at a corner  of the island.  It was a  strange room, its outer
walls  and sloping  ceiling made  entirely of  glass panels.  Through the  glass
overhead she could see even more rooms and balconies, climbing the island,  tier
after tier.

Like K'veer, she thought, wondering if Veovis had had a hand in its design.

At the very top of the island, or, rather, level with it, she could glimpse  the
pinnacle of a tower, poking up out of the very center of the rock.

Anna turned from  the window. Behind  her were three  doors. The first  led to a
continuation of the corridor; the second opened upon a tiny storeroom; the third
went directly into the rock-perhaps to the tower itself.

She went across, opening the last  of the doors. A twisting stone  stairwell led
up into the rock. She was about to venture up it when there was a noise from the
rooms to her right. There was a  thud as something heavy was put down,  then the
unmistakable  sound of  Veovis whistling  to himself.  That whistling  now  grew
louder.

Anna closed  the door  quietly and  hurried over  to the  middle door. She could
explore the stairwell later. Right now it mattered only that Veovis not find her
there.

Slipping into  the storeroom,  she pulled  the door  closed behind  her, even as
Veovis's footsteps came  along the final  stretch of the  corridor and into  the
room beside where she hid.

*   *   *

Aitrus took off his cloak, then turned to face his mother.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It is Ti'ana," she answered.  "I do not know where  she is, Aitrus. One of  the
servants saw her leave an hour back."

"She went out? With things as they are?"

Tasera nodded. "I would have sent a man  out after her, if I had known. But  she
left no message."

Aitrus frowned. "Wait here," he said, "I think I know where she might be."

"You know?"

"Not for certain,  but Ti'ana has  been unhappy these  past few months.  She has
missed Gehn badly."

"We have all missed him."

"Yes, but Ti'ana has missed him more  than anyone. Last week she asked me  if he
could come home. I think she may have gone to fetch him."

"They would not let her."

"Do you think that would stop Ti'ana if she were determined on it?"

Tasera shook her head.

"Well, I will go and see. Wait here.  Mother. If she is not at the Guild  Hall I
shall return at once. But do not worry. I am sure she is all right."

*   *   *

One of the guards on the barricade remembered her.

"She was most persistent," he said, "but we had strict orders. We were to let no
one pass, not even guildsmen,  without special notification. She left  here, oh,
more than an hour ago now."

"Did you notice where she went?"

The young guard  nodded, then pointed  up the lane.  "She went back  the way she
came, then turned left, under the arch. It looked as if she was heading for  the
western sector."

Aitrus thanked  the guard  then turned  away. If  Anna had  been going home, she
would have walked straight on and cut through farther up. Unless, of course, she
was trying to get through to the Guild Hall by another route.

"Home,"  he told  himself. He  would check  home first,  just in  case she   had
returned. Then, if  she was not  there, he would  go to the  Guild House and ask
there.

*   *   *

Anna crouched against the wall, trying not to make a sound.

Veovis was just beyond the door. She had heard him stop and sniff the air.

"Strange," she heard him say. "Very strange."

She closed  her eyes.  At any  moment he  would pull  back the  door and see her
there. And then ...

His footsteps went on. She heard the door to the corridor creak open, then close
behind him, his footsteps receding.

Anna took a  long breath, then  pushed the door  aiar. The outer  room was empty
now, filled with  the strange mauve  light from the  sky. She was  about to step
outside again when she glimpsed, lust  to her right, two shelves, cut  deep into
the wall. She had not noticed them before, but now she stepped across, amazed by
what was on them.

Books! Linking Books! Dozens of them!  She took one down and examined  it. D'ni!
This linked to D'ni! Quickly she  examined another. That, too, appeared to  link
to D'ni. One after another she flicked through them.

All of them on the top shelf-every last one-seemed to link back to D'ni; each at
a separate location: in a specific room in  a Guild Hall, or in the cellar of  a
house; in storerooms and servants'  quarters; and one, audaciously, direct  into
the great Council chamber of the Guild House.

So this was how they did it! Veovis was behind the spate of incidents these past
tew weeks.

Veovis, yes ... and A'Gaeris.

The Books on the bottom shelf were blanks, waiting to be used. She counted them.
There were forty-eight.

Anna stared  at them,  perplexed. How  had they  managed to  get hold of so many
blank  Books?  Had  Suahrnir  provided  them?  And  what  of  Suahrnir?  He  had
disappeared five years ago, presumed dead, but was he here, too?

When she had linked through she had not been quite sure what she meant to do. To
take a peek and then get back? But now that she had seen the Books ...

I have to stop this, she thought. Fifteen dead. That's what the guard said.  And
more will die, for certain, unless I act. Unless I stop this now.

But how?

Anna stared at the  Books, then nodded to  herself, a plan beginning  to form in
her head.

*   *   *

Veovis stood at the end of the stone jetty, his left hand resting lightly on the
plinth as he looked  out over the glutinously  bright green sea toward  a nearby
rock that  jutted, purest  white like  an enameled  tooth, from  its surface.  A
circular platform rested on  that rock, as if  fused onto its jagged  crown, its
gray-blue surface level with where Veovis stood.

Veovis glanced at the  timer on his wrist,  then slowly turned the  dial beneath
his fingers, clockwise, then counterclockwise, then clockwise again. He waited a
moment, listening as  the massive cogs  fell into place  beneath his feet,  then
pressed down on the dial.

Slowly a metal walkway slid from the stone beneath his feet, bridging the narrow
channel, linking the jetty to the platform. There was a resounding chunk! as  it
locked in place.

Veovis waited, tense now, resisting the temptation to glance at his timer again.
Then, shimmering into view,  a figure formed in  the air above the  platform. It
was A'Gaeris.

The Philosopher  blinked and  glanced up  at the  sky, as  if disoriented,  then
looked across at Veovis and grinned, holding up the Linking Book that both  Anna
and Veovis had used; that, until five minutes ago, had rested in the study  back
in the boarded-up house in D'ni.

The two  men met  in the  middle of  the walkway,  clasping each other about the
shoulders  like  the  dearest  of friends,  while  behind  them  a third  figure
shimmered into being on the platform.

It was Suahrnir.

*   *   *

High above them,  from where she  stood at the  north window of  the tower, Anna
looked on, watching the three men greet each other then turn and walk back along
the jetty, Veovis and  A'Gaeris side by side,  Suahrnir following a pace  or two
behind.

She had been thinking all along of the Linking Book back on D'ni-asking  herself
why they should  leave the back  door to this  Age open like  that. But now  she
understood. A'Gaeris had come along behind Veovis and gathered up the Book, then
used a  second Linking  Book, hidden  elsewhere, no  doubt, to  link back to the
rock.

The walkway had been retracted. If anyone now tried to link through to this  Age
they would be trapped on the rock, unable to get across to the island.

She stepped back, away from the window, then turned, looking about her. The  big
circular room seemed to be used as a laboratory of some kind. Three long  wooden
benches were  formed into  an H  at the  center, their  surfaces scattered  with
gleaming brass  equipment. Broad  shelves on  the long,  curving walls contained
endless glass bottles  and stoppered jars  of chemicals and  powders, and, on  a
separate  set of  shelves, Books.  Guild Books,  she realized,  stolen from  the
libraries of D'ni.

Anna walked across, picking things up  and examining them. Coming to the  window
on the south side of the room, she looked out. The sea went flat to the horizon,
its dark green shading into  black, so that at the  point where the sea met  the
pale mauve sky there seemed to be a gap in reality.

Just below the tower, the land dipped  steeply away to meet the sea, but  in one
place it had been  built up slightly so  that a buttress of  dark, polished rock
thrust out into the sea. A kind of tunnel extended a little way from the end  of
that buttress, at  the end of  which was a  cage; a big,  man-sized cage, partly
submerged.

Looking at it, Anna frowned.

She turned, looking back  across the room. There  was only one doorway  into the
room, only one stairway down. The strong wooden door had a single bolt, high up,
which could be drawn from inside.

"Perfect," she said quietly, smiling to herself. "Absolutely perfect."

*   *   *

Back inside the study,  Veovis shut the door,  then walked across. A'Gaeris  and
Suahrnir were already deep in conversation, pointing to locations on the map and
debating which to strike at next.

Veovis stared at them a moment, then  walked around past them and picked up  one
of the two bags he had brought with him from D'ni.

"Here," he said, handing it to A'Gaeris,  "I brought you a few things back  this
time."

A'Gaeris looked inside the bag, then  laughed. Taking out the cloak, he  held it
up. It was a guild cloak, edged in the dark red of the Guild of Writers.

"To think I once valued this above all else!"

A'Gaeris shook his head, making a  noise of disgust, then threw the  cloak about
his shoulders  casually, preening  himself in  a mocking  fashion and looking to
Veovis as he did.

"So how an things in D'ni?"

Veovis smiled. "You  were right. Philosopher.  The destruction of  the Ink-Works
has unnerved them. Before  now they were able  to keep things close.  Now all of
D'ni knows there is a problem."

"That may be so,"  Suahrnir said, "but there  is another problem: They  now know
that you are no longer on the prison Age."

Veovis turned to him. "They know?"

Suahrnir  nodded.  "I overheard  two  guards talking.  It  seems Master  Jadaris
himself took an expedition  in to check that  you were still there.  Finding you
gone, they will know that someone had to have sprung you." He turned to A'Gaeris
and grinned. "And they will not have far to look, will they?"

A'Gaeris turned back to Veovis, concerned. "Then we must escalate our  campaign.
Until now we have had the advantage of surprise, but they will be vigilant  from
here on. We must identify our prime targets and hit them."

"Lord R'hira," Suahrnir suggested.

"Naturally," Veovis  agreed. "But  not first.  First we  deal with my meddlesome
friend."

"Your friend?" A'Gaeris looked puzzled.

"My ex-friend, then. Guild Master Aitrus."

"Aitrus?" Suahrnir frowned. "But surely we can deal with him later?"

"No," A'Gaeris said. "What Veovis suggests makes sense. Cut off the head and the
body cannot fight on. And who are the men whom we might call the 'head' of D'ni?
Why, the Emergency Council, of  course! Aitrus, Jadans, YfJerrej, R'hira.  These
are the four who are  really running things right now,  and so they must be  our
primary targets. Thus far we have  unnerved the guilds. Now we must  destabilize
them."

"I agree," Veovis said. "But you will leave Aitrus to me."

A'Gaeris smiled. "If you want him, he is yours, my friend. But make no mistakes.
And show no ptty. Remember that he showed you none."

Veovis nodded. "I will  not forget that easily.  But come, let us  formulate our
plans."

*   *   *

Anna tiptoed partway along the corridor, then stopped. She could hear the  faint
murmur of their voices through the door. There was brief laughter, and then  the
talk went on.

Good. While they were occupied, she would move the Linking Books.

Returning to  the room,  she gathered  up all  she could  carry at  one go, then
hurried up the tower steps. Three trips saw all of the Books removed to the  big
room at the top of the tower. Satisfied, Anna cleared the surface of one of  the
benches, then began to pile the Books up in a heap, leaving only one aside.

That done, Anna picked up the Book she had set aside and returned to the door.

The easiest and  quickest way was  to burn the  Books-to set fire  to them, then
link straight back to D'ni-but the easiest  was not always the best. If she  was
to be sure of  damaging their plans, she  would need to make  certain that there
were no more Linking Books elsewhere on the island.

Anna listened a  moment, then, satisfied  that there was  no one on  the stairs,
slipped out and hurried down. She had been depending on surprise so far, but she
would need luck now, too, if she was to succeed.

Her luck  held. They  were still  there inside  the study.  She could hear their
voices murmuring behind the door.

"All right," a voice, Suahrnir's, said angrily. "But I do not know why we cannot
just kill him and be done with it!"

Anna  stepped  back.  At  any  moment the  door  might  open  and  she would  be
discovered, yet she stayed there, listening.

"I'll  go  right  now,"  Veovis  said  clearly.  "Unless  you  have  any further
objections?"

"Not I," A'Gaeris said. "But hurry back. There's much to do before the morning."

"Do not  worry," Veovis  answered sardonically.  "I know  how best  to hook  our
friend. I shall take no longer than I must."

*   *   *

Aitrus sat at his desk in his rooms  at the Guild Hall, in despair, his head  in
his hands. There was no sign of Anna.  A search of the upper city had not  found
her. All inquiries had  drawn a blank. And  though Master Jadaris had  agreed to
make a more thorough  search, Aitrus knew that  they would not find  her. Not in
D'ni, anyway.

No. Veovis was somehow  behind this. He had  to be. And this  was his revenge-to
take Anna.

But what had he done with her?

Aitrus looked up, staring into the air, trying to think.

If he were  Veovis, what would  he want? Justice?  No. It was  far too late  for
justice. Vengeance?  Yes, but  not simply  vengeance; at  least, not  the blind,
uncaring kind that madmen seek, unless the isolation of the prison rock had sent
Veovis mad.

No. He could not believe that. Veovis was stronger than that.

Perhaps, but what  of A'Gaeris? What  was his role  in all this?  And how had he
persuaded Veovis to ally with him against the Guilds?

Betrayal. That was the seed A'Gaeris had planted in Veovis's mind. Betrayal. The
guilds had  betrayed Veovis,  as they  had once  betrayed A'Gaeris.  And now the
guilds had to be punished.

Punished ... or destroyed?

Aitrus stood, realizing that there was only one thing to do. They would have  to
search every inch of D'ni for Linking Books.

"If we can find out where he is linking back to ..."

Aitrus looked up. Footsteps. There were footsteps farther down the hall.

He went out into the hallway.

"Ti'ana? ... Ti'ana, is that you?"

Aitrus had barely gone two  or three steps when the  door at the far end  of the
hall swung open. He stopped dead.

"Veovis?"

Veovis stood there, smiling, a Linking Book held open in one hand.

"Yes, Aitrus, dearest friend.  I have your wife.  If you want her  back, you had
better follow me. And no tricks, or Ti'ana will die."

"No! Wait!"

Aitrus started toward  him, yet even  as he did,  Veovis brought his  other hand
across, touching the glowing panel.

"Veovis!"

The Book fell to the floor.

So it was  true. His darkest  thoughts were thus  confirmed. Walking across,  he
bent down and picked up the Book.

Help. Common sense told him he ought to get help.

But what if Veovis meant what he said?

Then common sense would kill his beloved wife.

"No choice," he said, as if to excuse himself. Then, sensing that only ill could
come of it, he lay his hand upon the panel and linked.

*   *   *

Downstairs the door slammed shut. There  were footsteps on the stairs. A  moment
later A'Gaeris appeared at the top of the stairs, looking about him. Seeing  the
Linking Book  he smiled,  then he  went across  and bent,  picking it  up. For a
moment he studied the glowing  panel, his smile broadening; pocketing  the Book,
he turned and went back down the stairs.

It was time to link back to the island.

*   *   *

Anna slipped through  the open doorway  and into the  dimly lit chamber.  To her
right was  the study.  Through its  thin, wooden  walls she  could hear  the low
murmur of two voices-those of A'Gaeris and Suahrnir.

She sighed. It looked as if she was never going to get the chance to search  the
study.

Anna turned,  looking about  her. There  was a  narrow bed  in one corner of the
room. Beside it, against the back wall, were a small desk and chair. A worn silk
coverlet lay over the bed. On the  desk were a number of thin, coverless  books,
like child's  exercise books.  She picked  one up  and opened  it. It was one of
A'Gaeris's pamphlets-one of his endless ranting tirades against the guilds  that
had won him notoriety, mainly in the lower city.

Putting the pamphlet aside, Anna quickly examined what else was on the  surface.
There was a small notebook, locked, she noted, with a tiny silver clasp. A  D'ni
symbol-a simplification of  A'Gaeris's name-was burned  into the leather  of the
cover. She picked it up and pocketed it. Beneath it, to her surprise, was a tiny
picture in a gilded frame. It showed a young woman, barely Anna's own age by the
look other, her dark hair swept back from a stunningly beautiful face.

That, too, she pocketed.

Anna turned, looking about her once more,  checking that there was nothing  else
no hidden panels and no hatches in the floor. Satisfied, she hurried back across
the room again, meaning to make her way back to the tower.

She had  delayed too  long. Every  moment now  increased the  chance other being
discovered. Best, then, to cut her losses: to go back to the room at the top  of
the tower and burn the Linking Books she had.

It would be a start. Besides, she knew much now about their plans. If she  could
reach Master Jadaris with that knowledge ...

There was a  sudden noise behind  her, a buzz  of voices from  the central room.
Veovis had returned. She heard his  voice giving hasty orders. Then there  was a
strange grunt and the thud of a body falling to the floor.

There were other  noises-scraping and scratching  noises that she  could make no
sense of-and then Veovis spoke again, much louder this time:

"Take him down into the cellar. We 11 put him in the cage. I'll use him as  bait
for another, much more tasty fish."

There was laughter,  unwholesome laughter, and  then the sound  of a body  being
dragged across the room.

So they had taken another guildsman.

The corridor that led to  the cellar was on the  other side. For the moment  she
was in no danger of discovery. But time was running out. It was time to  prepare
things. Time to bait her own trap.

*   *   *

Back in the top room  of the tower, Anna began  to search the shelves. She  knew
what she  wanted: potassium  nitrate, sulphur,  carbon; some  liquid paraffin, a
length of wick; a tinderbox.

The bottles were labeled, each with  a handwritten D'ni symbol, but she  glanced
at these  only to  confirm what  her eyes  already told  her. She  took the tiny
bottles down, one after another, setting them side by side on the worktop,  then
took a mixing dish and a metal spoon from the side.

There were wicks in a drawer, and a polished silver tinderbox.

"What else?" she asked, her heart pumping quickly in her chest.

One bottle, set aside from all the others on the worktop, had no label. She  had
noticed it earlier.  Its contents were  clear, with a  faint bluish tinge.  Now,
curious, she picked it up and unstoppered it, sniffing its contents.

Sputtering,  Anna  jerked her  head  back and  replaced  the stopper,  her  eyes
watering. It was a horrible, noxious mixture; clearly a sleeping draught of some
kind. Even a small sniff of it had taken her breath and made her head go woozy.

Anna shivered, then slipped it into her left-hand pocket, knowing that it  might
have a use.

A heavy iron file lay on one of the trays nearby. She took that too, tucking  it
into her belt. It would be useful to have a weapon of some kind.

Just in case...

Anna returned to the  desk and picked up  one of the jars,  unstoppering it; yet
even as she did, she heard noises from below-a single cry and a splash.

Hurrying to the south window, she looked out. Far below, at the end of the great
stone buttress, the cage was now occupied. A man was struggling, spluttering  in
the water momentarily; then he went still, looking about him, as if coming to  a
sudden realization of his fate.

As he turned toward her, Anna caught her breath, horrified.

It was Aitrus.

*   *   *

Veovis glanced at A'Gaeris and smiled.

"Did you hide the Book?"

A'Gaeris pulled the Linking Book from his pocket. "You mean this?"

The two men were halfway along the tunnel that led from the cage. They had  left
Suahrnir on the platform, overlooking the cage. Now it was time to carry out the
next part of their scheme.

"Are you sure she will come?" A'Gaeris asked, his eyes half-hooded.

"I am certain of it," Veovis said.

They walked on. Turning a corner, they  came to the narrow steps that led  up to
the gallery. Here they had to go single file.

"Can I ask you something?" A'Gaeris said, as he followed Veovis up.

"Ask," Veovis said, glancing  back over his shoulder  as he climbed out  through
the hatch.

"Why do you want her? I mean, she will never love you. Not while you keep Aitrus
prisoner. And if you kill him..."

"Vengeance," Veovis said, as A'Gaeris ducked out under the rim of the hatch  and
joined him in the strangely lit gallery.

"Why not simply kill them both?"

"Because I want them to suffer the way I suffered." Veovis's face was hard  now,
much harder than A'Gaeris had ever seen it. "I dreamed of it, when I was on  the
Prison  Age, night  after night.  I want  them to  be tormented  the way  I  was
tormented. I want them to feel betrayed the way I felt betrayed."

Behind  the  thick glass  of  the gallery  windows,  strange fish  swam  slowly,
menacingly, their pale red eyes unblinking.

A'Gaeris nodded. "I understand."

"Do you?"

"Yes, friend.  It was  not just  my guild  membership I  lost. I  was betrothed.
Betrothed to the most beautiful young woman you have ever seen."

"Ah ..." Veovis had been about to move on, to return straight to the study,  but
now he changed his mind. "What do you want, A'Gaeris? I mean, what do you really
want?"

A'Gaeris did not hesitate. "To destroy it all. That is my dream."

"Then the Guilds ... ?"

"Are only the start. I want to  destroy D'ni the way D'ni tried to  destroy me."
A'Gaeris's whole  frame seemed  to shudder  with indignation.  "There! Does that
frighten you, Veovis?"

Veovis shook his head. "No. I know now how you feel."

"You do?"

"Yes. Come ..."

*   *   *

A'Gaeris had thought it  was a storage cupboard  of some kind, but  inside was a
long, high-ceilinged  room, and  lining the  walls of  that long  room were rack
after rack of guns and swords. Enough to start a small war.

Veovis turned, staring at the Philosopher thoughtfully. "You once wrote that  it
is fortunate that the  common people are unarmed,  for if they were  armed, D'ni
would fall overnight. Do you still believe that?"

A'Gaeris reached out, taking down one of the swords and examining it. He nodded,
impressed. "I do," he said finally, looking to Veovis with a smile.

"Then will this do?"

A'Gaeris grinned. "I see I badly misjudged you. Lord Veovis."

*   *   *

Anna stood  at the  door, listening,  then opened  it and  slipped out, into the
adjacent room. There were voices coming  from just down the corridor. Was  there
another chamber down there; one she had not noticed?

It seemed so. Recessed into the wall, partway along, was a door. It was open the
slightest crack and she could hear Veovis and A'Gaeris talking within. Realizing
that she might have only one chance,  she hurried past and on into the  gallery.
To her surprise the hatch halfway down on her left was wide open. She edged over
to it and listened, then peeked her head around. A flight of steps went down.

She went  inside, hastening  down the  steps, then  stopped. Ahead  of her, just
around a turn, she could hear Suahrnir murmuring something.

The bottle containing  the sleeping draught  was still in  her pocket, the  iron
file  in her  right hand.  Taking a  cloth handkerchief  from her  pocket,  Anna
wrapped it about her mouth, then took the bottle from her pocket.

With more confidence than she felt, she stepped out around the corner.  Suahrnir
was sitting on a platform at the end of the tunnel, overlooking the cage. He had
his back to her. Calming herself, she walked on, trying not to make any noise.

She was right beneath Suahrnir when he turned, realizing that she was there. Yet
even  as he  turned, Anna  hit him  hard over  the head  with the  file. As   he
collapsed, she pulled the cloth up  over her nose and, unstoppering the  bottle,
poured its contents over his face.

A cloud of thick, white fumes rose from the platform.

Anna blinked, her eyes stinging  furiously, then, closing them tight,  she edged
around Suahrnir and climbed up onto the cage, not daring to take a breath.

The cage swayed from side to side as she moved around the outside of it, as  far
as she could get from the stinging white cloud. As the cage steadied, she leaned
out and raised the silk, taking in a lungful of air.

"Ti'ana? Is that you?"

Aitrus was just beneath her, blinking up at her as if only half conscious.  Only
his head and shoulders were above the surface of the vile, dark green liquid and
she could see that there was a  large, dark bruise on the side of  his forehead.
Seeing him thus, Anna winced, her love for him making her forget her own danger.
His hands were tightly bound. They  had hooked them over the massive  padlock to
keep  him from  sinking down  into the  water. It  was cruel,  but it  had  also
probably saved his life.

"It's all right, my love," she said  gently. "I'll get you out. But you  must be
quiet. We must not alert the others."

"I was stupid,"  he said, his  eyes flickering closed,  as if he  could not keep
them open. His voice was faint and  fading. "Veovis said he had you prisoner.  I
should have known. I should have brought help."

"No," Anna said, pained by the way he blamed himself for this. She took the file
from her waist  and, leaning across,  began to try  to force the  lock. "You did
what you thought best."

Aitrus  coughed. Some  of the  sleeping gas  was now  drifting across  from  the
tunnel. Anna could  sense its stinging  presence in the  air. She grimaced  then
leaned back on the file once more, heaving at it, trying to force the lock,  but
it would  not budge.  She needed  a longer  piece of  metal, something with more
leverage.

A sudden gust  of wind, coming  in off the  surface of the  sea, swept back  the
drift of noxious white gas.

"Aitrus," she said,  reaching through the  bars, trying to  touch his brow,  her
fingers brushing air. "Aitrus ... I shall not be long, I promise. I'll come back
for you. So hold on."

But he could not hear her. His eyes  were closed, and whether it was the gas  or
whether he had slumped back into unconsciousness she could not tell.

Time. Time was against her now.

Taking a huge gulp of air, she pulled the cloth down over her mouth again,  then
turned and, scrambling back around the cage, ducked back inside the tunnel,  her
eyes tightly shut as she stumbled through the choking whiteness.

*   *   *

Veovis was  sitting at  a table  at the  end of  the armory, fitting together an
incendiary device. Five completed bombs lay in a row just by his elbow; long red
tubes with bulbous silver ends filled with explosive chemicals. Nearby, A'Gaeris
was still working his  way through the racks,  looking for the ideal  weapon for
himself.

"We should only use guns when we need to," Veovis said, looking up at him.  "For
what we plan, a poisoned dart is best."

"And the  incendiaries?" A'Gaeris  looked down  the barrel  of a  hunting gun at
Veovis, then set the gun aside. "I  would have thought they would notice one  of
those going off."

Veovis continued to fit the device together. "These are not for use as  weapons,
my friend, these are to destroy the Linking Books after we have used them."

A'Gaeris stared at him. "And the Hidden Linking Books? The ones we already  have
in place? Did I take those risks for nothing, Veovis?"

"No,  but it  might be  difficult to  use them,  now that  the guilds  are  more
vigilant. Besides, we have a whole store of Books we can use. If time were  less
pressing I would be less profligate, but as things are ... "

A'Gaeris nodded. "You are quite right. And  it will, at least, allow us to  slip
in and slip out at will." His eyes gleamed. "Think of it, Veovis! They will  not
know what has hit them!"

Veovis smiled and nodded, then set the sixth bomb aside, next to the others. "We
shall be like shadows," he said, reaching out to take another of the  incomplete
incendiaries from  the rack  by his  feet. As  he set  it down  on the  desk, he
glanced across at A'Gaeris again. "Bring the map from the study. We can  discuss
things while we work."

*   *   *

As A'Gaeris stepped into the room, he saw her. Ti'ana, Aitrus's wife. She was at
the center of the room, beside the table, hunched forward slightly, her back  to
him. She was very still, as if concentrating on something: reading, perhaps,  or
studying something.

The map of D'ni...

Smiling, A'Gaeris drew his dagger and tiptoed across until he was no more than a
couple of feet from her.

"Do not move, Ti'ana," he said, a quiet menace in his voice. "I have a knife and
I will not hesitate to use it."

She froze, her shoulders tensed.

"Turn slowly," he said. "Very slowly. Make no sudden movements."

She began to turn, slowly at first, very slowly; then, in a sudden rush her arms
came up.

And something else.  Something heavy and  black that seemed  to expand into  his
face, screeching as it did, it$ sharp claws digging in deeply.

*   *   *

Veovis stood, turning toward  the door. The first  scream had made him  drop the
incendiary; the second startled him into action.

He ran, out of the room and along the corridor, bursting through the first  room
and into the study. The screaming  was louder here, mixed with the  bird's high,
screeching call.

A'Gaeris was on the far side of  the room, struggling to fend off the  ferocious
assault of the bird. Blood ran down  his face and upper arms. Nearby the  golden
cage lay on the floor, the chain snapped, the door forced open.

Intruders ...

"Help me!" A'Gaeris pleaded, putting an  arm out toward Veovis. "In the  Maker's
name, help me!"

Veovis stared at  his ally a  moment, then, drawing  the old, long-barreled  gun
from his belt, crossed the room quickly, ignoring A'Gaeris and vanishing through
the far door, heading for the far room and the corridor beyond.

*   *   *

Anna slammed  the door  behind her  then reached  up and  slipped the  bolt into
place. Hurrying over to the bench,  she took the stoppers from bottles  and jars
then began to pour things into various containers.

She could hear A'Gaeris's screams, even where she was, through the thickness  of
stone and wood, and knew that Veovis would be coming after her.

Taking her  concoction, Anna  poured some  of the  clear, thick  liquid over the
door, soaking the wood with it, then laid  a trail of it across to the far  side
of the room, where the Linking Books were piled up. That done, she put the  bowl
aside and went back  to the door, sliding  the bolt back once  again and pulling
the door slightly ajar.

She could hear footsteps now, hurrying up the twist of steps.

Anna scrambled back across the room, setting the Linking Book she was to use  to
return to  D'ni down  on the  desk to  one side,  open to the descriptive panel.
Then, taking the  length of^ wick,  she lit it  from the tinder,  blowing on the
smoldering end of it until it glowed.

The footsteps came to  the head of the  steps and stopped. There  was a moment's
hesitation and then the door on the far side of the room was kicked open. Veovis
stepped inside, the cocked gun raised, its dark mouth pointed directly at her.

Seeing her, Veovis gave a surprised  laugh. "Ti'ana! You were the last  person I
expected."

Anna stared  back at  him defiantly,  her left  hand hovering  over the  glowing
panel, her right holding the smoldering wick.

Noticing the Books, he blinked, reassessing the situation. "What are you doing?"
'

"I am putting a stop to this. Before things get out of hand."

His face grew hard. "Give me the book,  Ti'ana. Give it to me and I shall  spare
you. You and your son  both. The rest will die.  They have to. But you  and Gehn
can live ... if you give me the Book."

Anna smiled and dropped the wick onto the pile of Linking Books, igniting it, at
the same moment placing her other hand against the linking panel.

As the Books  went up in  a great rush  of flame, Veovis  roared and pulled  the
trigger. The  sound of  the detonation  filled the  room as  the bullet  hurtled
toward her disappearing shape. At the same moment, the trail of liquid chemicals
flared, the flame  running along it  like a trail  of magma searing  through the
rock.

There was  a great  hiss and  then the  door behind  Veovis exploded into flame,
throwing him forward, his hair and cloak on fire.

But Anna did not see it. Anna had already gone.

*   *   *

The great chamber was almost dark. Only at its very center, where the five great
thrones were, was there  a small pool of  light, where a single  flame flickered
between the pillars. Beneath its scant illumination the five great Lords ot D'ni
sat, their ancient faces etched with deep concern.

"We must  search the  city from  end to  end," R'hira  said, echoing what Master
Jadaris had said  to him not  an hour before.  "Every room, and  every drawer of
every desk. We must find these Linking Books and destroy them, else no one  here
is safe."

"Is it possible?"  another of them  asked. "Have we  the time or  the numbers to
make such a search?"

"No," R'hira admitted, "yet we must make the attempt. Unless we do ..."

He stopped dead, staring in astonishment  as a figure materialized in the  space
before the thrones.

"What in the Maker's name ..."

"Ti'ana!" R'hira cried, standing and stepping down from his throne.

Anna looked up, her  face pale, then slumped  down onto the floor.  Blood poured
from a wound in her shoulder.

"Bring help!"  R'hira cried,  speaking to  one of  the guards  who stood  in the
shadow surrounding them. "Quick now, Guildsman! Ti'ana is badly hurt!"

Yet even as he stooped to try  to help her, another figure shimmered into  being
right beside her.

The man's  face was  blackened. His  hair was  aflame. Smoke  curled up from his
burning clothes. He was doubled up, almost choking for breath, but even in  that
state R'hira recognized him at once.

"Veovis!"



PART SEVEN
LAST DAYS

It was over. The evidence had been heard, the verdict of the Council unanimously
given. It remained now only for the Five Lords to announce the sentence.

The great chamber was hushed as Lord  R'hira got to his feet and, stepping  from
his throne, stood over the kneeling Veovis.

Veovis was chained  at hand and  foot. His head  had been shaved  and he wore  a
simple prison gown of  rust red, which showed  his bare arms and  calves. Seated
just behind the kneeling prisoner,  looking on attentively, were Aitrus  and his
wife, Ti'ana, who, because other part in things, had been allowed to attend this
final ceremony.

It was only two  weeks since that moment  when, to the astonishment  of the five
great  Lords, both  Ti'ana and  Veovis had  linked through  into this  self-same
chamber. Both  Aicrus and  his wife  were now  much improved  from their wounds.
Aitrus sat there with  his head bound, Ti'ana  with a bandage about  her wounded
shoulder.

There was  a silent  tension in  the chamber  as R'hira  looked about him at the
seated ranks ot guildsmen.

"Veovis," R'hira said quietly. "You have betrayed the trust of this Council. You
have  deceived us  and stolen  from us,  destroyed our  property, and  ...  yes,
murdered our  fellow guilds-men.  Such behavior  is without  parallel in all our
long  history,  and it  is  felt that  our  sentence ought  to  reflect that.  I
therefore declare that you, Veovis, son of Rakeri, Lord of D'ni, shall be  taken
from here to the steps of the Library and there, at the seventeenth hour, before
witnesses, be beheaded for your treachery."

There was a sharp intake of breath. Beheaded! It was unheard of. But Lord R'hira
seemed as hard as granite as he looked about him.

"Such is the decision of the Five Lords. Will anybody speak for the accused?"

It  was  a  traditional  request  at such  moments,  when  a  prisoner  had been
sentenced, and though  this sentence was  without recent parallel,  it was clear
that none among the Five expected anyone to speak.

Anna stood.

"Forgive me, Lord R'hira. I know I am here as a guest of the Council and as such
have no right to voice my feelings; even  so, I would like to speak in favor  of
the prisoner."

R'hira turned, looking to his fellows.  There was a moment of eye  contact among
the ancients and then R'hira turned back.

"If anyone  deserves the  chance to  speak, it  is you,  Ti'ana, though  why you
should wish  to utter  a word  in favor  of this  miscreant is  quite beyond  my
imagining. Step forward."

At that moment Veovis  screamed, "That barbaric animal  is going to speak  on my
behalf?! Never! I won't allow it!"

"Silence," R'hira shouted with the pounding of his hand.

Veovis continued in his rage. "She's a traitor, not one of us! She has  breached
the sanctity of the D'ni blood! Don't you see!?"

"Guards, remove him!" R'hira shouted. "Now!"

They dragged the screaming man from the room. Calm returned to the chamber.

Anna stepped  out. She  bowed to  each of  the Five  in tutn, then turned about,
facing the ranks of guildsmen.

"My Lords ... Guildsmen. I  do not wish to play  down the severity of what  your
once-fellow Veovis has been found guilty of. Nor have I reason to feel  anything
but hatred for the man who tried to kill my husband and, but for a poorly  aimed
shot, would undoubtedly have  killed me. Yet as  an outsider, a newcomer  to the
great empire of D'ni, let me make an observation.

"This great cavern is an island of reason, of rational, considered behavior. You
D'ni have developed codes of behavior, ways of dealing with situations, that are
the result  of thousands  of years  of experience.  The most  important of those
codes,  and the  wisest of  all, perhaps,  is that  which deals  with those  who
transgress and  step outside  the codes.  Until now,  the D'ni  have only rarely
taken a life for a life. Until now, you have chosen the path of segregation,  of
cutting out the bad from your midst and isolating it, as a surgeon might isolate
a virus. That, I would argue, is the path of sanity, whereas this ..."

Anna paused, as if she could read the objection that was in most of their minds.

"I know what you are thinking. He escaped once. He might well escape again.  And
the so-called  Philosopher, A'Gaeris,  is still  at large.  Such factors must, I
agree, come into your thinking. But  there is one important factor that  has not
been considered, and that is precisely why Veovis behaved as he did."

Anna took something from  her pocket and held'it  up. It was a  notebook of some
kind.

"I have here a journal-A'Gaeris's private journal-which I took from his room  in
the Age from which they launched their attacks on D'ni. Had I not been ill these
past few weeks, I might have read it sooner-and then could have laid this before
the  Council as  evidence in  Lord Veovis's  favor, for  its contents  are  most
revelatory. As it is, I offer it to you now as a plea for clemency."

Lord R'hira, who had been listening in silence until this moment, now spoke up.

"Forgive me, Ti'ana, but what might  that villain A'Gaeris possibly have to  say
that would excuse the prisoner's behavior?"

Anna turned, facing him. "It is all here, my Lord, every last part of it,  fully
documented in A'Gaeris's own hand. How he planned things; how he forged  papers;
how  he  worked through  Guildsman  Suahrnir to  ensnare  Lord Veovis  into  his
perverse schemes; even how he manipulated my husband into going to Master Jadans
with what he 'knew.'

"Whatever he has done since, that first great wrong cannot be denied. Veovis was
an innocent  man. Think,  then, of  the bitterness  he must  have felt  in being
stripped of  all title  and incarcerated  upon that  prison rock.  Oh, it  is no
excuse for what he subsequently did, yet I offer it as explanation."

Lord R'hira took the book from Anna  and read a page or two, blinking  from time
to time. Then he looked up.

"We must have time to study this, Ti'ana."

"Of course," she said, giving him a grateful bow. "But as you study it, my Lord,
consider the balance of good and ill that exists in all men, and try to  imagine
in what circumstances that balance could be tilted either way-toward great good,
or toward the kind of behavior Veovis displayed toward the society that  spurned
him."

R'hira gave  a tiny  nod, his  eyes smiling  at Anna,  then he  turned, his eyes
quickly gauging the response of his fellow Lords. There were nods.

"Very well,"  he said,  turning back.  "The sentence  of this  Council is set in
abeyance until this matter can be fully considered. Until then the prisoner will
be placed under constant guard."

As the meeting broke up and guildsmen began to drift out of the chamber and into
the nearby rooms, R'hira came over to Anna.

"I am grateful for your intercession, Ti'ana, yet one thing bothers me. You  may
be right. Veovis may once have been innocent. Yet that is in the past. If we  do
not end his life for what he subsequently did, then we have but a single  course
before us, and that is to incarcerate him for the rest of his natural life. Such
a course we tried before ... and failed with. What if we fail a second time?"

"Then make sure  you do not.  Lord R'hira. Make  a new and  special Age for him,
then, once he is safe within that place,  burn the book so that no one can  help
him escape. Vigilance, not vengeance should be your byword."

R'hira bowed his head, impressed by her words. "Well spoken, Ti'ana."

She gave a little bow.

"Oh, and  Ti'ana ...  do not  worry. Whatever  we decide,  Veovis will  never be
allowed his freedom."

*   *   *

A'Gaeris sat at his desk, studying the notebook. The wooden door of the hut  was
closed, the blinds drawn against the sunlight. From outside came the busy  sound
of sawing and hammering.

He closed the book then nodded to himself. Standing, he yawned and stretched. He
was wearing a simple rust-red gown that  fitted tightly at the waist. A pair  of
D'ni glasses rested atop his freshly  shaven head. Walking over to the  door, he
pulled them down over his eyes, then stepped outside.

Just below the hillock on which the hut stood, in a clearing between the  trees,
his slaves  were hard  at work.  Already the  basic frame  of the  room had been
constructed. Now they were building the seats and shelves and, at the center  of
it all, the podium.

He walked down, stopping  at the edge of  the clearing to take  out the notebook
once again, turning to the page he  had been looking at a moment earlier.  For a
moment he compared Suahrnir's sketches to the room that was being constructed in
the clearing, then he slipped the book away once more. There was no doubting it,
Suahrnir had had a good eye. No detail had evaded him. Everything he needed  was
here. Every measurement.

He began to laugh; a deep, hearty laughter that rolled from his corpulent frame,
making the natives glance up at him fearfully before returning to their work.

"But we shall change all that," he said, as his laughter subsided. "No rules. No
guidelines. Nothing but what I want."

The thought of it sent a tiny shiver up his spine.

"Nothing ... but what I want."

*   *   *

The preparations were meticulous.

Four of the guild's finest Writers were assigned the task of making the new Age;
each  of  them allocated  one  specific strand  of  the whole.  Working  to Lord
R'hira's brief, in copy books that had no power to link, they patiently produced
their words, passing on  their finished creations to  the Grand Master of  their
Guild, Ja'ir, who, in coordination with Grand Master Jadaris of the Maintainers,
compared the texts and made his subtle corrections, ensuring that the  resultant
Age was consistent and thus stable.

In all a hundred days passed in this fashion. But then it was finally done  and,
after consultation with  Lord R'hira, a  blank Book-a Kortee'nea-was  taken from
the Guild's Book Room and placed on a  desk in a cell at the center of  the Hall
of the Maintainers. There it was guarded  day and night, its pages never out  of
sight for a  single instant as,  one by one,  the four Writers  returned to copy
their work into the Book.

By this means the privacy of the  Book was maintained, for none of the  four had
any knowledge of what  the other three had  written. Only Jadaris and  Ja'ir and
R'hira, three of the most trustworthy men in the entire empire, knew that.

Meanwhile, in a cell just down the passageway, they placed Veovis, shackled hand
and foot, two  members of the  City Guard with  him every moment  of the day and
night, linked to him by chains of nara, waking and sleeping.

And so the days passed, until the Prison Book was done.

*   *   *

At the seventeenth hour  on the day of  judgment the great bronze  bell rang out
from the tower  above the Hall  of the Guild  of Maintainers. Far  below, in the
lowest level of  that great labyrinthine  building, in the  deep shadows of  the
Room of  Punishment, the  Great Lords  and Grand  Masters of  D'ni looked  on as
Veovis, his  head unbowed,  the cords  that had  bound his  hands and  feet cut,
stepped over to the podium and faced the open Book.

As the bell  rang, Veovis looked  about him, no  flicker of fear  in those pale,
intelligent eyes, only, at this final moment, a sense of great dignity. Then, as
the final stroke rang out, he placed his hand upon the glowing panel and linked.

As he vanished, a sighing breath seemed to pass through the watching  guildsmen.
Heads turned, looking to Lord R'hira.

"It is done," he said quietly. "Master  Jadaris ... take the Book away and  burn
it."

Yet even as he spoke the words  there was a faint disturbance of the  air before
the  Book,  the faintest  blur.  For the  briefest  instant, R'hira  thought  he
glimpsed a figure in a rust-red prison gown, his head shaved bare.

R'hira looked about him,  'surprised. Was he the  only one to have  seen it? And
what precisely had he seen? An afterimage?

Or was this some flaw in the Book  itself? After all, it was rare for a  Book to
be made by four separate writers, and it was possible that some minor errors had
crept into the text.

He frowned, then set the matter from his mind. It was of no importance. All that
mattered was that they burned the Book. Then D'ni would be safe.

Master  Jadaris  stepped up  to  the podium  and,  closing the  Book,  lifted it
ceremonially in both hands, then carried it from the room.

They followed, along a passageway and through into the furnace room. Here, since
time  immemorial,  they  had  burned  faulty  Books,  destroying  their   failed
experiments and shoddy work.

But this was different. This was a world that functioned perfectly.

And so we break our  own rules, R'hira thought. And  even if it were for  a good
cause, he still felt the breach as a kind of failure.

This is not the D'ni way. We do not destroy what is healthy.

Yet Ti'ana was right. It was either  this or put Veovis to death. And  there was
no doubt about it now: Veovis had been an innocent man when first they found him
guilty and incarcerated him.

R'hira watched as the great oven door was opened and the Book slid in. There was
a transparent panel in the door. Through it he could see the gray-blue cover  of
the Prison Book clearly. R'hira bent slightly, looking on as the oven fired  and
the flames began to lick the cover of the Book.

*   *   *

The months  passed swiftly.  Things quickly  returned to  normal. For young Gehn
these were strangely happy  times- strange, because he  had never dared hope  to
thrive away from his mother's side.

In his eighth year, on the last day of his first term at the Guild College,  his
father and mother  visited him. It  was an Open  Day, and most  of the students'
parents were to be there,  but for Gehn it was  a very special occasion, for  he
had been chosen to represent the College  and read out a passage from the  great
history of his guild that spoke of the long tradition of the Guild of Books.

The days of  illness, of bullying  in the night,  and tearful homesickness  were
long behind Gehn. He had become  a strong child, surprisingly tall for  his age,
and confident in all  he did, if never  outspoken. Yet he was  strangely distant
with his mother, as if some part of him had never quite forgiven her for sending
him away. It was thus that he greeted her on this special day, with a respectful
distance that might have been expected from any other student meeting the  great
Ti'ana, but not, perhaps, from her only son.

He bowed formally. "Mother. I am glad you came."

Anna smiled and briefly held him,  but she, too, sensed how things  were between
them. As she stepped back, Aitrus embraced Gehn.

"Well done, Gehn!" he said, grinning down  at his son. "I hear nothing but  good
from your Guild Masters! I am very proud of you boy. We both are!"

Gehn glanced at his mother. He could  see that she was indeed proud of  him, yet
strangely that mattered very little beside the praise of his father. After  all,
his father was D'ni-of the blood-and  a Council member, too. To have  his praise
was something. Yet he did not say this openly.

"I try to  do my best,"  he said, lowering  his head with  the modesty that  was
drilled into all students.

"Guild Master Rijahna says  you have a promising  future, Gehn," Anna said,  her
smile more guarded than his father's.  "Indeed, he has talked to your  father of
private tuition."

This was the first Gehn had heard of this. He looked to his father wide-eyed.

"Is that true?"

Aitrus nodded. "If you want it."

Gehn beamed. "Of course I  want it! Who would not?  Oh, I ache to be  like them,
Father! Like the Masters, I mean. To know what they know. To be as they are!"

Aitrus laughed. "I understand that feeling, Gehn, but you must be patient, too."

Gehn lowered his head again. "Of course." He calmed, matching his demeanor to  a
more somber mood. "Thank you. Thank you both. I shall make you proud of me."

Anna smiled and reached  out, ruffling his hair.  "We are already proud  of you,
Gehn. More proud than you could ever imagine."

*   *   *

As Gehn finished the oration, Anna felt the tightness in her stomach vanish, her
anxiety replaced by a great uprush of pride. To think he had nearly died-and not
once but several  times! And now  here he was,  standing confidently before  his
peers and  Masters-yes, and  before a  great hall  full of parents/too- speaking
with real feeling and pride of the great tradition into which he had been born.

She glanced at Aitrus and  saw the great beam of  a smile on her husband's  face
and knew he shared all she felt.

My son.

Oh, it was difficult sometimes. Gehn could be cold and distant, but she put that
down to his age, yes, and to other things. It had not been easy for him being of
mixed blood. Yet he had come through it all triumphantly.

As Guild Master Rijahna stepped up to the podium, he gave a little bow to  Gehn.
There was the faintest trace of a smile on his lips, a trace that vanished as he
turned to face the audience.

"And now, guildsmen, ladies, if you would like to come through to the  refectory
..."

But Master Rijahna had barely formed the word when the whole building shook.  He
looked up,  surprised, as  if he  had imagined  it, but  from the  murmur in the
audience, from the way a number of  the guildsmen and their ladies had risen  to
their feet, he was not alone in experiencing that tremor.

It came again, stronger this time, and  with it a low rumbling noise. Dust  fell
from overhead.

Outside, the great bell of D'ni was sounding.

And there were only two reasons for that bell to sound: the death of one of  the
Five, or a threat to D'ni itself.

Rijahna swallowed back his momentary fear and leaned upon the podium.

"Ladies, guildsmen. Please remain calm."

He turned, looking  to his fellow  Masters and to  the young pupils,  who stared
back at him, silent yet clearly afraid.

"It will be all right," he  said quietly, his voice offering them  a reassurance
he did not feel. "Be calm and follow me outside and all will be well, I  promise
you. All will be well..."

*   *   *

Anna saw it at once as she emerged from the Guild Hall, there on the far side of
the great cavern. A great crack had opened in the wall of the cave, and from  it
spewed a dark cloud of gas.

She looked to Aitrus, as if he might explain it, but from the expression on  his
face he seemed as dumbfounded as anyone.

"What is it?" she asked,  trying not to succumb to  the panic that seemed to  be
spreading among the people all about her. At the sight of the dark cloud some of
the women had started screaming and wailing.

"I do not know," he said, unable to tear his eyes from it, "but it might be best
to link away from here, until more is known."

"But you will be needed, Aitrus ..."

He looked to  her. "I did  not mean myself.  You and Gehn.  You should take  him
home, to the mansion, then go to Gemedet. At once. There are provisions there."

"And you?" she asked, fearing for him suddenly.

He smiled,  then kissed  her. "I  shall come  when I  can, Ti'ana. But take Gehn
straightaway. And look after him."

"All right. But take care, my love. And come when you can."

"I shall," he said, then, turning, he hastened aww, heading for the Guild House.

Anna hesitated a moment, watching Aitrus go. an awful feeling filling her at the
sight of him making his way through the crowd; then, determined to do as he  had
asked, she turned, beginning to make her way back up the steps, anxious to  find
Gehn.

*   *   *

Slowly the dark cloud spread, like a mighty veil being drawn across the far side
of the cavern. Inch  by inch it crept  across the lake, edging  toward D'ni, and
where  it  touched  the  surface  of the  lake,  the  light  from  the lake  was
extinguished.

The light-giving algae were  dying, by the look  of it; poisoned by  the noxious
fumes of the cloud.

And if that cloud were to reach out its fingers to D'ni city?

Then they would also die.

The  city  below was  in  turmoil. The  shrieks  of terror  and  wailing of  the
desperate were  dreadful to  hear. There  were great  queues now  at all  of the
Common Libraries, as people made their way to the safety of the common Ages.

Anna stared across the cavern for  a moment longer, horrified, then hurried  on,
taking Gehn's hand and pulling him along behind her. There was not far to go now
and she was beginning to think about  what she would need to pack- journals  and
books and the like-when the third tremor struck.

It was by far the  largest of the three tremors  and threw them both from  their
feet, showering them with dust and debris.

Walls were crumbling now. Buildings were  crashing to the ground. Just up  ahead
of  them,  the  front of  one  of  their neighbors'  mansions  tumbled  into the
alleyway, throwing up a great cloud of dust.

As the tremor  faded, Anna lifted  herself onto her  hands and knees  and turned
anxiously. But Gehn was fine: he had a small cut on his brow, but it was  almost
nothing.

"Come on," she said, getting to her feet then taking his hand again, "before the
next one hits."

But they had barely gone a dozen  paces when the whole cavern seemed to  resound
like a struck gong.

They clung to each other, waiting for^the great ceiling to come down on them  or
the  earth to  open up  beneath them,  but despite  the mighty  roar of  falling
masonry and cracking walls, they came through untouched.

Indoors, Tasera was waiting for them anxiously.

"Thank the Maker  you are here,"  she said, relieved  to see at  least two other
family home safe. "But where is Aitrus?"

"He has gone to the Guild House," Anna said, more calmly than she felt. "He will
come when he can."

Tasera gave a nod of resignation. "Kahlis went, too, as soon as the first tremor
struck. No doubt they will return together."

Anna nodded, then said, "I  need to get one or  two things from the study.  Take
Gehn and link through. I will follow you  just as soon as I can. Aitrus said  we
were to link to Gemedet."

"Gemedet? But surely Ko'ah would be safer?"

"It is what he said."

Tasera bowed  her head,  for once  giving in  to her  datighter-in-law. "Then go
quickly, Ti'ana. I shall see you in Gemedet."

*   *   *

Anna slipped the knapsack onto her  back, then went out into the  corridor. Time
was pressing now,  but she could  not go until  she had taken  one final look at
things. Climbing the stairs, she emerged  onto the balcony then hurried over  to
the rail.

The great city  was stretched out  below where she  stood, layer after  layer of
ancient stone  streets and  houses, reaching  down to  the great  circle of  the
harbor and Kerath's massive  arch. Though it was  day, lights burned in  most of
the houses,  for a  strange twilight  was falling  over D'ni  as the great cloud
spread, its poisonous fumes dousing the lake's soft glow.

The dark cloud now filled almost  half of the cavern, its color  now discernible
as a filthy brown. The edges of it drifted slowly, in a dreamlike fashion,  more
like a sluggish liquid than a gas. Even as she watched, wispy brown tendrils  of
the gas extended about Kerath's Arch and slowly curled across the surface of the
harbor.

And  where  the  gas  touched,  the algae  faded,  the  bright  glow  dying like
sputtering embers.

The sight of it chilled her.

Where are you, Aitrus? she wondered, looking across to the left, where the Guild
House stood, its massive, tiered roof dominating the surrounding Halls. Are  you
safe, my love?

As if voicing the fear she felt at that moment, a great noise of wailing drifted
up from the lower city. Many were safe now, but there were still  some-hundreds,
maybe more-who had  not made it  to the Common  Libraries and the  safety ot the
Ages. It  was they  who now  faced the  coming of  the great  cloud as it slowly
filled the harbor with its rolling darkness, then spilled into the narrow  lanes
and alleyways that led up from the waterfront.

The Maker help them ...

Yet  even as  she thought  it, she  caught a  glimpse of  a guildsman  hurriedly
ascending the main street that led between the gates, his cloak streaming behind
him as he  ran. He was  carrying something odd,  some kind of  cylinder, yet she
knew at once who it was.

"Aitrus!" she yelled, waving frantically at him.

He slowed, his head turning, and then  he waved back at her, hurrying on  again,
disappearing briefly  behind a  row of  houses, while  far below  him, like  the
breath of fate itself,  the dark gas slowly  climbed the levels, destroying  any
living thing it touched.

*   *   *

It was raining in Gemedet, a fresh,  pure rain that, after the nightmare of  the
cavern, seemed to wash all stain of  it from them as they walked down  the slope
toward the encampment.

Seeing them  step out  from among  the trees,  Gehn stood  then ran toward them,
hugging  his father  fiercely. The  boy's hair  was slicked  back, his   clothes
soaked, but he seemed not to mind.

Picking him  up, Aitrus  carried Gehn  down the  rest of  the slope and into the
shelter of the cabin. Tasera looked up as they entered, a great beam of a  smile
lighting her face at  the sight of Aitrus.  Then, seeing only Anna  enter behind
him, she frowned.

"Where is your father, Aitrus?"

"In D'ni,"  Aitrus answered  somberly, slipping  the cylinder  from his back and
balancing it in the corner.

"He stayed?"

"He agreed to. Along with the Five and all the other Grand Masters. It was their
plan to go to one of the Guild worlds and there to debate things further."

"Then he is safe," she said, relieved.

"For a time," Aitrus answered, taking the mask from his cloak pocket and placing
it on top of the cylinder, the end of it dangling from the great silver nozzle.

"What do you mean?"

Aitrus shrugged. "I mean only that none of us knows yet what has really happened
or where the gas is coming from.  As for the tremors, there were no  early signs
in the rock, nor is there any history of such local disturbances."

"So what are we to do? Stay here?"

"For a time, yes. Until things blow over. I have been ordered to remain here for
ten days.  At the  end of  that I  am to  return to  D'ni, wearing  the mask and
cylinder. Others will return  at the same time.  If all is well,  we shall bring
the people back to D'ni."

"And if it is not?" Tasera asked, her face gaunt.

Aitrus sighed. "Then we stay here ... for a time. Until we can make things  well
again in D'ni."

*   *   *

The air  was a  horrible, sickly  yellow-brown, choking  the ancient streets and
alleyways, as though a  wintry fog had descended  upon the great tiered  city in
the cave. Silent it was, and dark, though not as dark now as at first.

Here and there,  at crossroads and  at gates, lamps  had been set  on the top of
poles. Huge fire-marbles the size of fists glowed red, or blue, or green  behind
the thick glass  panes of the  lamps; yet their  lights burned dimly,  as though
through depths of dark and murky water.

Silent it was, yet in  that silence the creaking of  a cart could now be  heard,
along  with  the  shuffle  of  two  men,  making  their  slow  way  through that
subterranean place.

As they came  into a pool  of dark red  light, one could  see the airtight masks
that encased  their heads,  linked by  strong hoses  to the  air tanks  on their
backs. They  wore long  leather boots  and thick  gloves that  reached to  their
elbows.

Their cart  was loaded  high, pale  hands and  feet jutting  lifelessly from the
midst of that macabre bundle of rags and bones. Leaning forward, they pushed  in
silence, sharing the weight without complaint. Ahead, just beyond the lamp,  was
their destination.

Coming to the  foot of the  steps, they set  the handles of  the cart down, then
began to unload, taking  each body by its  wrists and ankles and  carrying it up
into the semi-darkness of the entrance hall.

Here, too, they had placed lamps, lighting the way into the great Book Room.

It was not their first journey, nor would it be their last. For a full week  now
they had gone about their task, patiently, unendingly, collecting in the harvest
of their sowing.

So many bodies,  there were. So  much illness and  death. It was  hard to credit
that the gas had undone so many. And then the quakes.

While one held the body propped against the podium, the other took its hand  and
placed it over the glowing  panel of the Book, moving  his own hand back as  the
link wfe made.

The body shimmered for an instant and was gone.

And so  on, endlessly,  it seemed.  A thousand  corpses, maybe  more: their dead
hands, filled yet with living cells, linking into the Ages; their bodies wracked
with illness; rife with the contagion that had swept these mortuary streets.

Looking through their masks at one another, the two men smiled grimly.

"Another, Philosopher?"

"Oh, another, my Lord. Most certainly another."

The two  men laughed;  a dark  and bitter  laughter. And  then they returned, to
bring another body from  the cart. To send  another of their dark  seeds through
into the Ages. Destroying the sanctuaries one at a time: finishing the work they
had begun.

*   *   *

It was the evening  of the ninth day.  Tomorrow Aitrus would return  to D'ni. As
the day ended, they sat  on a platform of rock  just above the falls, just  Anna
and Aitrus, looking out over the little world they had made.

The sun,  behind them,  cast their  shadows long  across the  lush greens of the
valley. For a long time they were silent, then Anna spoke.

"What do you think you will find?"

Aitrus plucked a stem of grass and put it to his mouth. Now chat it was evening,
he had pushed  his glasses up  onto his brow,  but where they  had sat about his
eyes, his pale flesh was marked with thin red furrows. He shrugged. "Who  knows?
Yet I fear the worst. I had  hoped some message would have come through  earlier
than this. Or my father ..."

Anna reached out,  laying her hand  softly against his  neck. He feared  for his
father, more  than for  himself. So  it was  with Aitrus.  It was  always others
before  himself.  And  that  was  why,  ultimately,  she  loved  him;  for  that
selflessness in him.

"How long will you be?"

Aicrus turned slightly, looking at her. "As long as I am needed."

"And if you do not return?"

"Then you will stay here."

She began to shake her head, but he was insistent. "No, Ti'ana. You must do this
for me. For me, and for Gehn."

The mention of  Gehn stilled her  objections. Aitrus was  right. Gehn was  still
only eight. Losing one parent would be bad enough, but to lose both could  prove
devastating, even though Tasera would still be here.

She gave the barest nod.

"Good," Aitrus  said, "then  let us  go back  to the  encampment. I have much to
prepare before I leave."

*   *   *

It was  early when  Aitrus set  off. All  farewells had  been said; now, as Anna
looked on, Gehn cuddled against her,  Aitrus Dulled on the cylinder, checked  it
was working properly, then slipped the airtight mask down over his head.

Seeing him thus, Anna felt her stomach tighten with anxiety.

Aitrus turned, waved  to them, then  turned back, placing  his hand against  the
open Linking Book.

The air about his figure swirled as  if it had been transformed into some  other
substance, then cleared. Aitrus was gone.

Anna shivered. Words  could not say  the fear she  felt at that  moment: a dark,
instinctive fear for him.

"Be brave, my darling," she said,  looking down at Gehn. "Your father  will come
back. I promise he will."

*   *   *

Aitrus could hear his own breathing loud  within the mask as he linked into  the
study. He took out the lamp he had brought and, striking the fire-marble, lit it
and held it up, looking about him.

Nothing had been disturbed, yet all had been transformed. The gas had gone,  but
where it had been it had left its residue, coating everything with a thin  layer
of yellow-brown paste.

The sight of it sickened him to his stomach. Was it all like this, everywhere in
D'ni? Had nothing survived untouched?

Outside in the corridor it was all  the same, as though some host of  demons had
repainted everything the same hellish shade. Where his booted feet trod he  left
long smearing marks upon the floor.

Aitrus swallowed. The air he breathed was clean and pure, yet it seemed  tainted
somehow by what he saw.

He went down the stairs, into the lower level of the house. Here some of the gas
remained, pooled  in the  corners of  rooms. Faint  wisps of  it drifted  slowly
through open doorways.

Aitrus watched  it a  moment. It  seemed alive,  almost; hideously,  maliciously
alive.

No sooner had  he had the  thought, than a  second followed. This  was no simple
chemical mix. He should have known that by the way it had reacted with the algae
in the lake. This was biological. It was alive.

He went out again, heading for  the front door, then stopped, deciding  to douse
the lantern, just in case. He did so, letting the darkness embrace him, then  he
stepped up to the door, finding his way blindly.

Outside it was somewhat lighter, but  only comparatively so. Most of the  cavern
was dark-darker than  Aitrus had ever  imagined possible-but there  were lights,
down  below  him  and to  his  left,  not far  off  if  he estimated  correctly;
approximately where the great Halls of the guilds had once stood.

Had stood. For even in the darkness he could see evidence of the great ruin that
had fallen upon D'ni. Between him and the lights, silhouetted against them,  was
a landscape of fallen houses and toppled  walls, as if a giant had trampled  his
way carelessly across the rooftops.

Aitrus sighed, then began to make  his way towarcf those lights. There  would be
guildsmen there, he was certain of it. Maybe even his father, Kahlis. They would
have news, yes, and schemes to set things right again.

The thought of that cheered him. He was D'ni, after all!

Aitrus stopped and, taking  out the lantern, lit  it again. Then, holding  it up
before him, he began to make his way through the ruin of the streets and  lanes,
heading for the Guild House.

*   *   *

The Guild House was empty, its great doors, which had once been proudly guarded,
were now wide open. It had been built well and had withstood the ravages of  the
great  quakes  that had  struck  the city,  yet  all about  it  was a  scene  of
devastation that had taken Aitrus's breath. There was barely a building that had
not been damaged.

And everywhere the sickly yellow-brown residue of the gas.

Aitrus stood in the great Council chamber, facing the five thrones, his  lantern
held up before him. It  was here that he had  left his father. Here that  he had
made his promise to return  on the tenth day. So  where were they all? Had  they
been and gone? Or had they never come?

There was one sure and certain way to find out.

He walked through, into one of the tiny rooms that lay behind the great chamber.
There, open on the desk,  was a Linking Book. As  all else, it was covered  with
the pastelike  residue, yet  the glow  of the  linking panel  could be glimpsed.
Though a thin  layer of the  paste covered the  glowing rectangle, a  hand print
could be clearly seen upon it.

Someone had linked after the gas had settled.

Aitrus went across and, using the sleeve of his cloak, wiped the right-hand page
clean. At  once the  glow came  clear. If  the Five  Lords and  his father  were
anywhere, they were there, in that Age.

He doused the  lantern and stowed  it, then placed  his hand upon  the panel. He
linked.

At  once Aitrus  found himself  in a  low cave.  Sunlight filtered  in from   an
entrance just above him. He could hear birdsong and the lulling noise of the sea
washing against the shoreline.

He sighed, relieved. All was well.

Releasing the clamp at the side of his mask, he eased it up, taking a deep  gulp
of the refreshing air, then, reaching  behind him, switched off the air  supply.
He would need it when he returned to D'ni.

Quickly he climbed  the twist of  steps that had  been cut into  the side of the
cave wall,  pausing only  to take  out his  glasses and  slip them on. Then, his
spirits raised, he stepped out, into the sunlight.

The buildings  were just  below him,  at the  end of  a long  grassy slope. They
blazed white in the sunlight, their  perfect domes and arches blending with  the
green  of  the  surrounding wood,  the  deep  blue of  the  shimmering  sea that
surrounded the island.

They would be inside the Great Library, of course, debating what to do. That was
why they were delayed, why they had not come. Even so, Aitrus was surprised that
they had not set a guard by the Linking Book.

He stopped dead, blinking, taking that in.

There would have been a guard. There  always was a guard. In fact, he  had never
come here, before now, without there being a guard in the cave.

Something was wrong.

Aitrus drew his dagger  then walked on, listening  for any sound. Coming  around
the side  of the  library, he  slowed. The  silence was  strange, unnatural. The
great wooden door was open. Inside the room was shadowy dark.

The elders of D'ni sat in their seats about the chamber, thirty" maybe forty  in
all. In the darkness they seemed to be resting, yet their stillness was not  the
stillness of sleep.

Slipping his dagger back into its sheath,  Aitrus took ou( his lamp and lit  it,
then stepped into the chamber.

In the glow of the lantern he could see the dreadful truti of things. They  were
dead, every last one of them, dead, theil faces pulled back, the chins  slightly
raised, as if in some fina exhalation.

Aitrus shuddered, then turned.

"Father ..."

Kahlis sat in a chair  close by the door, his  back to the sunlight spilling  in
from outside.  His hands  rested on  the arms  of the  chair, almost casually it
seemed, yet  the fingers  gripped the  wood tightly  and the  face had that same
stiffness  in it  that all  the other  faces had,  as if  they had  been  caught
suddenly and unawares by some invisible enemy.

Aitrus groaned and sank down to  his knees, his head lowered before  his father.
For a long while he remained so. Then, slowly, he raised his head again.

"What in the Maker's name has happened here?"

Aitrus turned,  looking up  into the  masked face  of the  newcomer. The man was
standing in  the doorway,  the sunlight  behind him.  He was  wearing the purple
cloak of the  Guild of Ink-Makers,  but Aitrus could  not make out  his features
clearly in the gloom.

"It's some kind of virus," he began, then, seeing that the other made to  unmask
himself, shook his head. "No! Keep that on!"

The guildsman let his hand fall away from the strap, then looked about him. "Are
they all dead?" he asked, a note of hopelessness entering his voice.

"Yes," Aitrus answered bleakly. "Or so it seems."

*   *   *

The grave was new,  the earth freshly turned.  Nearby, as if surprised,  a guard
lay on his back, dead, his hands gripping each other as if they fought, his jaws
tightly clenched.

Aitrus stared  at the  guard a  moment, then,  looking to  his fellow guildsman,
Jiladis, he picked up the spade once  more and began to dig, shoveling the  last
of the dark earth  back into the hole.  They really were all  dead-guildsmen and
guards, servants and natives. Not one had survived the plague, if plague it was.

And himself? Was he now infected with it?

The last book of commentary told the tale.  They had found it open on a desk  in
one of the other buildings, its scribe, an ancient of two hundred years or more,
slumped over it. The body had come  through a week ago, only two days  after the
evacuation of D'ni. They had burned it, naturally, but the damage had been done.

"What will you  do?" Jiladis asked,  his voice muted  through the mask  he still
wore.

"I suppose I will go back," Aitrus answered. "To D'ni, anyway."

And there was the problem. If he was infected, he could not go back to  Gemedet,
for he could not risk  infecting Gehn and Anna and  his mother. Yet was it  fair
not to let them know what had happened here?

Besides which, he needed to get back,  now that he knew what was happening,  for
he had to return to the mansion and get the Linking Book. Gemedet at least would
then be safe.

If he was not already too late.

"I shall come with you," Jiladis said finally. "There's nothing here."

Aitrus nodded, then looked  up at the open  sky and at the  sun winking fiercely
down at him.

The surface. He could always make his way to the surface.

Yes. But what about any others who had survived? Could he persuade Jitadis,  for
instance, that his future lay on the surface?

Aitrus set the spade aside, then knelt, murmuring the D'ni words of parting over
the grave. Then, standing again, he made his own, more informal farewell.

"Goodbye, my  father. May  you find  peace in  the next  Age, and  may Yavo, the
Maker, receive your soul."

Aitrus lingered awhile, his eyes closed as he remembered the best of his father.
Then he turned and slowly walked away, making his way back to the linking  cave,
Jiladis following slowly after.

*   *   *

The door to the family Book Room had been smashed open, the shelves of the  room
ransacked. On the podium the Book of Ko'ah lay open, its pages smeared, a  clear
handprint over the panel.

Aitrus stared at it in shock.

Signs of desecration were everywhere-smeared  footprints in the hallways and  in
almost every room-but had they gone upstairs.

His heart almost in his mouth, Aitrus slipped and skid-ded up the stairs in  his
haste.

His  workroom was  at the  far end  of the  corridor. Footsteps  led along   the
corridor toward it. Aitrus stopped dead, staring at them in horror.

So they had been here, too.

In the doorway he paused, looking about him. A circle of footprints went halfway
into the room then came away.

He frowned, not understanding, then rushed across the room. The Book of  Gemedet
was where he had left it on the desk. The open pages were undisturbed, the  thin
layer of pasty residue untouched.

Aitrus sighed with relief.  Taking a clean cloth  from a drawer, he  cleaned the
cover carefully, then tucked It into the knapsack beside the other things he had
packed for the journey.

He had taken extra cylinders from the Hall of the Guild of Miners and food  from
the sealed vaults in the Hall of the Caterers-enough for an eight-day journey.

If he had eight days.

And Anna? Would she keep her word? Would she stay in Gemedet and not try to come
after him? He hoped so. For if  she linked here, there would be no  linking back
for her. Not  to Gemedet, anyway,  for the book  would be with  him, and he  was
going to the surface.

Aitrus went to the front door and looked out across the darkness of the cavern.

He had  seen them,  yesterday, on  his return,  or thought  he did:  the ghostly
figures ofA'Gaeris and Veovis, pushing their cart of death. And, seeing them, he
had known that nowhere was  safe from them: not in  D'ni, anyway, nor in any  of
the linked Ages.

If he and Anna and the boy were to have any kind of life, it would have to be up
there, on the surface. But were the tunnels still open? Or had the great  quakes
that had flattened so much in D'ni destroyed them also?

He would have to go and see for himself. If he lived that long. If sickness  did
not take him on the journey.

*   *   *

It  was the  evening of  the sixteenth  day, and  Anna sat  at Gehn's   bedside,
listening to his gentle snores in the shadows of the room. A book of D'ni  tales
lay beside her, facedown where she had put  it. Worn out by a day of playing  in
the woods, Gehn had fallen asleep even as she read to him. Not that she  minded.
Anything that took his mind off his father's prolonged absence was welcome,  and
it was good to see him sleep so deeply and peacefully.

Leaning across, she kissed his brow, then stood and went outside. The stars were
out  now,  bright  against  the  sable backdrop  of  the  sky.  Anna  yawned and
stretched. She had barely slept this past week. Each day she expected him  back,
and each day, when he did not come, she feared the very worst.

Tasera, she knew, felt it almost as  keenly as she did; maybe more so,  for she,
after all, had both a  husband and a son who  were missing; yet Tasera found  it
much easier to cope with  than she did, for she  was D'ni and had that  rocklike
D'ni stoicism.  Had it  been a  thousand days,  Tasera would  have waited still,
patient to the last.

Am I so  impatient, then? Anna  asked herself, walking  over to the  rock at the
head of the valley.

She smiled, knowing what Aitrus would have said. It was the difference in  their
life expectancy, or so he argued. She was a short fuse and burned fast, while he
...

Come  back,  she  pleaded  silently, looking  out  into  the  star-filled night.
Wherever you are-whenever you are-come hack to me, Aitrus.

If they had to spend the rest  of their years on Gemedet, she would  be content,
if only she could be with him.

And if that is not your fate?

It was her father's voice. It was  a long time since she had heard  that voice-a
long, long time since she had needed the comfort of it.

He has been a good man to you, Anna.

"Yes," she said  quietly, speaking to  the air. "I  could not have  wished for a
better partner."

But now you must leam to he alone.

She blinked. There  was such certainty  in that voice.  "No," she said,  after a
moment. "He will come back. He promised, and he always keeps his promises."

The voice was silent.

"Ti'ana?"

Anna started,  then turned.  Tasera was  standing not  ten paces  from her, just
below her on the  slope. She must have  been walking down by  the stream. Coming
closer, Tasera looked at her and frowned.

"Who were you talking to?"

Anna looked aside, then answered her honestly. "I was speaking to my father."

"Ah ..." Tasera stepped closer, so that  Anna could see her eyes clearly in  the
half-light. "And what did he say?"

"He said I must learn to be alone."

Tasera watched her a moment, then nodded. "I fear it might be so."

"But I thought..."

"Kahlis is  not there.  I cannot  feel him  anymore. No  matter where he was, no
matter when, he was always there, with me.  So it is when you have lived with  a
man a century and more. But suddenly there is a gap-an absence, if you like.  He
is not there anymore. Something has happened to him."

Tasera fell silent.

"I did not know.  I thought ..." Anna  frowned. What had she  thought? That only
sbt felt like  that? That only  she and he  were related to  each other in  that
strange,  nonphysical manner?  No. For  how could  that possibly  be? Even   so,
sometimes it  felt as  if they  were the  books of  each other-to which each one
linked. And when  one of those  books was destroyed,  what then? Would  there no
longer be a connection? Would there only be a gap, an awful, yawning abyss?

The thought of it terrified her. To be that alone.

"I am sorry, Tasera," Anna said finally. "I do hope you are wrong."

"And I," Tasera said, reaching out to take her hands. "And I."

*   *   *

Aitrus woke. The darkness  in his head was  matched by the darkness  in which he
lay. It was damp and cold and his whole body ached, yet the air was fresher than
he remembered it.

He put his hand up to his face, surprised. The mask ...

And then he remembered. The air had given  out. He had had to take off the  mask
or suffocate. And that was when he had linked-linked back to Gemedet.

Aitrus lay there a  while, letting his eyes  grow accustomed to the  darkness of
the cave. It had to be night outside, for not a trace of sunlight filtered  down
from above. He listened, straining to hear  some sound, but it was hard to  know
whether he was imagining it or not. For eight days now he had known nothing  but
silence. The awful, echoing silence of the rock.

All of his life, he realized now, there had been noises all about him-the  faint
murmur of  the great  fans that  brought the  air into  the caverns, or the dull
concussion from a  mining rig, busy  excavating in the  deep; the noises  of the
city itself, or of boats out on  the lake; the bells that sounded out  each hour
of every day, and the normal noises of the household all about him. Such  sounds
had formed the continuum of his existence, ceaseless and unnoticed. Until now.

Now death had  come to D'ni.  Yes, and to  every part of  its once great empire.
Even in the tunnels he had found the dead-Miners at their work, or  Maintainers,
whose job it was to patrol the great perimeter.

Yes, and  he had  even found  the source  of death:  the great  machine that had
proved D'ni's bane. In one  of the lower caverns he  had come upon it, its  huge
canisters empty now. They had used  such machines in the Guild of  Surveyors, to
provide air for tricky excavations, or  before a regular supply could be  pumped
up from  D'ni itself.  But Veovis  had used  it to  pump poisons back into D'ni,
letting D'ni's own circulatory system distribute it to every tiny niche.

Even had they switched the great fans down, which eventually they did, it  would
have  proved a  bleak choice:  to suffocate  from lack  of air,  or die  of  the
poisonous bacteria that that same air carried.

It was not until he saw the machine  that he knew for sure; not until then  that
he knew Anna had been wrong to intercede.

It is not her fault,  he kept telling himself; she  was not to know. Yet  it was
hard to  see it  otherwise. All  of this  death, all  of this vast suffering and
misery, was  down to  a single  man, Veovis.  For all  that A'Gaeris  had been a
willing partner, it was Vcovis's  bitterness, his anger and desire  for revenge,
that had been behind this final, futile act. And if he had been dead?

Then my  father would  yet be  alive. And  Lord R'hira.  And Master Jadaris. And
Jerahl...

Aitrus sat up, shaking his head, but the darkness kept coming back. Ti'ana is to
blame. My darling wife, Ti'ana.

"No!"

Outside a bird flapped away between the trees.

It was the first natural sound he had heard in days.

Aitrus sniffed the air. It smelled sweet. He could still smell the rubber of the
mask upon his face, but this  air was different. It lacked the  strange metallic
taste of the air he had grown accustomed to.

Slowly, almost stumblingly, he  climbed up, until he  stood at the mouth  of the
cave, looking  down through  the trees  toward the  encampment. It seemed empty,
deserted, but then it was late.

He sighed. I  ought to wash,  he thought. More  than that, I  ought to bum these
clothes, or bury them. Just in case...

In truth, he ought not to have come. Indeed, he would not have come but for  the
fact that lack of air  had addled his brain. But  now that he was back  he would
make the best of things.

At least  the Linking  Book was  relatively safe;  though who  knew how thorough
Veovis would be? If he chose to search the tunnels, then he might come upon  it,
lying there, and then even Gemedet would not be safe.

The thought of it petrified him.

He had the urge to cough. Stifling it, he turned, looking up beyond the cave. If
he remembered correctly, there was a path  that led up and to the left,  curving
across to the head  of the falls. He  would find a place  up there and bury  the
sun:, then wash himself.

And then he  would come back  here, naked, the  bearer of ill  news, to face his
mother and his wife.

*   *   *

They had found Aitrus up by the  pool, beside the waterfall, his body bathed  in
sweat, his eyes staring. Getting two servants to carry him, they had brought him
back to the encampment and laid him  on the bed. Then, for the next  three days,
Tasera and Anna took turns tending  him, bathing his brow, and holding  his hand
while the fever raged on.

On the morning of the fourth day he finally woke. Anna had been sleeping in  the
tent nearby when Gehn came and shook her.

"Mother! Mother! Father is awake!"

She hurried across to the cabin to find Aitrus awake, his eyes clear and  lucid.
Tasera sat beside him, smiling and holding his hand. He looked weak, but he  was
alive, and seeing Anna, a faint smile came to his lips.

"Ti'ana ..."

His voice was little more than a breath.

"Do not talk," she said, going over to kneel beside the bed and take his hand.

"I must," he said, the words the faintest whisper.

"No," she said. "You must rest. You must get back your strength."

But Aitrus shook his head. "I am dying, Ti'ana. I know it. But I have been given
this moment and I must use it."

He paused, coughing a little, then continued, his voice wavering a little.

"They are dead. Everyone ... dead. My father ... I buried him. And D'ni ... D'ni
is ended. But there is a way out. Through the tunnels. I mapped it. My  notebook
..."

"Yes, yes," Anna said, impatiently. "But you must rest now, Aitrus, please."

For a moment his eyes blinked closed.  With an effort he opened them again,  his
eyes looking to Anna  pleadingly. "You must go,  Ti'ana. Please. Promise me  you
will go. You are not safe here ..."

"Why? Why aren't we safe here?"

But  Aitrus had  drifted into  sleep again.  His head  had fallen  back and  his
breathing was shallow.

"Let him sleep," Tasera said, looking to Anna, as if concern for her boy was the
only thing in the  universe; yet Anna could  see that Aitrus's news  had shocked
her. Indeed, it had shocked them both. Then, suddenly, she remembered Gehn.

She whirled about. Gehn was standing in the doorway, staring, his face aghast.

"It isn't true," he said, his voice tiny. "Tell me it isn't true!"

But she could not lie,  and as he saw it  in her face, so that  look returned: a
look of purest horror. Turning, he fled.

"Gehn!" she cried, going to the doorway. "Gehn! Come back!"

But Gehn was already at the edge  of the wood. With the barest glance  .back, he
disappeared among the trees.

Anna turned back, looking to Tasera,  but Tasera was not there. Her  eyes seemed
distant and hollow now and her  shoulders sagged, as if her son's  soft words-so
quiet, so  insubstantial-had broken  her. Even  as Anna  looked, a tear trickled
down Tasera's cheek and fell.

Gone. All of it gone. But how was that possible? Surly some had survived?

She stared at Aitrus, wondering what else he had not told her. Why was this  Age
not safe? Why?

"Tell me, Aitrus," she said quietly. "Please tell me."

But Aitrus did not answer her.

*   *   *

That afternoon Tasera took to her bed, complaining of a migraine. Anna, thinking
it had to do with Kahlis's death, decided it was best to leave her be to grieve.
Having made certain Tasera  was comfortable, she went  to see if she  could find
where Gehn had got to. There was no sign of him. But when she returned two hours
later it was to find that Tasera had worsened considerably.

Not only that, but  the two servants who  had helped carry Aitrus  down from the
pool were now  displaying the exact  same symptoms he  had shown. They  had been
suffering from minor stomach pains for days, but now both of them had gone  down
with a full-blown fever.

As the afternoon became evening, Anna began to grow worried. Aitrus still showed
no sign of  waking, yet it  was f"s Tasera  she was most  concerned, for she had
slipped into a fretful,  fevered sleep. Then, just  after sundown, Anna went  to
check on the two servants, whom she  had placed nearby in the storage tent,  and
found that one of them had died.

She was standing there, outside the tent, when Gehn wandered back into the camp.

"Gehn?"

Gehn did not even glance at her, but walked on past her, going inside the cabin.

Anna walked across. Gehn  was sitting in a  corner, in the darkness,  staring at
his father's reclining form.  She watched him a  moment, her heart going  out to
him. Then, taking the lantern from the side, she struck the fire-marble,  closed
the plate, and hung it on the hook overhead.

In its sudden glow she could see that Gehn had been crying.

"Gehn? Are you all right?"

He turned his head and looked at her, coldly, sullenly, then looked away.

"Two of the servants are ill," she said quietly.

Gehn made no gesture, no response. He simply stared at his father.

"Gehn ... we must think of leaving here."

But Gehn was like a statue, his child's  face hard and cold as it stared at  his
dying father.

*  *   *

That night the rest of the servants ran away. While Gehn slept, Anna sat  beside
Tasera,  bathing her  face and  holding her  hand. Yet  in the  early hours   of
morning, Aitrus's mother convulsed and died.

Anna sat there for a long time afterward, staring into space. Gehn was asleep in
the corner. Aitrus lay nearby, his shallow breathing barely audible. In this one
room was  her whole  world-all that  mattered to  her, anyway-and  it was slowly
falling apart about her.

Just as before, she thought, real despair touching her for the first time.

She stood  up abruptly  then crossed  the room,  picking up  the bag  Aitrus had
brought back with him  from D'ni. She had  been busy until now  even to remember
it, but now she sat down and rummaged through it.

Here was his journal, that he kept with him at all times.

Lighting a lamp, she opened the notebook and began to leaf through it,  stopping
finally at a series of maps and diagrams Aitrus had made. The first were of  the
tunnels leading to the  cavern where the machines  were and, beyond it,  several
miles distant, the Lodge. Aitrus had added to this map, drawing thick dark lines
across a number  of the tunnels.  It was clear  that they were  blocked. Indeed,
looking at the  map, she saw  that there was  no access to  the surface by  this
route. On the  next page was  another map, but  this one ended  in dead-ends and
white, unfilled space.

Anna looked up,  understanding. Aitrus had  spent the last  week or so  tramping
through the  tunnels, trying  to find  a route  for their  escape, spending  his
precious energies so that they might find a safe way to the surface.

Aitrus was dying, she knew  that now for certain. Yet  ^ even at the end  he had
been true. Even at the end he had thought of others before himself. Of her,  and
Gehn.

She looked back  at the journal.  The next map  was different-much more  complex
than the others. It extended over several pages.

Anna  smiled,  appreciating  what  he  had  done  here.  Elevations, rock-types,
physical details-all were noted  down. It was a  real labyrinth, but Aitrus  had
done his best to make each twist and  turn as clear as he could. She traced  the
zigzag line of it with her  finger over several pages, then looked  up, laughing
softly.

The volcano! It came out at the old dormant volcano where her father and she had
used to stop on their way to Tadjinar.

She smiled and spoke softly to the air. "You did well, my love."

"Did I?"

His voice,  so unexpected,  startled her.  She turned  to find  him sitting  up,
watching her.

"Aitrus?"

"We have to go."

Anna blinked. You are dying, she thought. You are not going anywhere. But he was
insistent.

"You must pack, Ti'ana. Now, while there is still time."

"Time for what?"

"I am coming with you,"  he said, then coughed. "Back  to D'ni. I will help  you
find the way."

"But you are ill, Aitrus."

In answer he threw back the  sheet and, steadying himself against the  wall with
one hand, slowly  stood. His eyes  looked to her  imploringly. "I must  do this,
Ti'ana. Do you understand that?"

She stared at him, her fear and love for him mixed violently at that moment, and
then she nodded. "I understand."

*   *   *

Packing the last few things into the bag, she slipped it onto her back and  went
outside, into the sunlight. Gehn was just below her, standing beside his father,
supporting him, as they looked down at Tasera's grave.

Anna sighed, then walked across. Gehn was wearing the suit she had made for  him
and the mask lay loose about his neck. His own knapsack was on his back.

"Are you ready?"

Both Gehn and Aitrus looked to her  and nodded. Then, on impulse, Gehn ran  down
the slope and, bending, leaned out over the edge.

Anna looked to Aitrus and frowned, wondering what he was doing, but in a  moment
Gehn was back, holding out a tiny  sheath of white flowers for her to  take. Two
other bunches were in his other hand.

She took them from  him, then, knowing what  he intended, cast the  flowers onto
Tasera's grave and stepped back, allowing Gehn and Aitrus to do the same.

"Farewell, dear Mother," Aitrus said, looking  out past the mound at the  beauty
of the valley. "You will be with me always."

Gehn stood there a moment, then, bowing his head, scattered the flowers and said
his own farewell: "Goodbye, Grandmother. May we meet again in the next Age."

Anna blinked,  surprised. He  seemed to  have grown  up so  much these  past few
weeks. She put out her hand to him.

"Come, Gehn. We must go now.

Gehn hesitated a moment, then, with a glance at his father, reached out and took
her hand. Anna gave it a little squeeze, then, turning from the grave, began  to
climb the slope, heading for the linking cave, Aitrus following behind.

*   *   *

It was the twenty-second day after the fall.

Anna stood beside Aitrus  on the balcony of  the mansion, Gehn in  front of her,
her arms about his shoulders as they  looked out over the ruins of D'ni.  To her
surprise the air had proved clean, and after several tests in the workroom, they
had decided to remove their  masks. There was no trace  now of the gas that  had
wreaked  such  havoc, though  its  residue remained,  like  a dried  crust  over
everything. Moreover, someone  had reac-"  tivated  the great fans  that brought
the air into the cavern, and the algae of the lake had recovered enough to  give
off a faint, almost twilight glow. In that faint illumination they could see the
extent of the devastation.

The sight was desolate beyond all words. What had once been the most magnificent
of cities was now a mausoleum, an empty, echoing shell of its former glory.

She could feel Gehn trembling and knew  that he was close to tears. All  that he
had ever  known lay  within the  compass of  his sight.  His shattered hopes and
dreams were  here displayed,  naked to  the eye.  Why, even  the great rock that
stood in the very midst of the lake had split, like wood before the axe.

"Come," she said gently, meeting Aitrus's eyes. "Let us go from here."

Walking down through the dead streets, their sense of desolation grew. Barely  a
house stood without great  cracks in its walls;  barely a wall or  gate remained
undamaged. From time  to time the  rubble of a  house would block  their way and
they were  forced to  backtrack, but  eventually they  came out  by the harbor's
edge.

The great statues that  had once lined the  harbor wall were cracked  or fallen.
The great merchant fleet that once had anchored here now rested on the  harbor's
floor. They could see their long shadows thirty, forty feet below the surface.

Anna turned, looking about her. There was  no sign anywhere of a boat, and  they
needed a boat. Without one there was no chance of getting across the lake.

"There are  boathouses to  the east  of the  harbor," Aitrus  said, "down by the
lake's edge. There will be barges there."

But the boathouses were burned, the  barges smashed. Someone had made sure  they
could  not get  across. Aitrus  sighed and  sat, his  remaining strength  almost
spent.

"I'll go and  look," Anna said,  gesturing to Gehn  that he should  sit with his
father and take care of him. "There must be something."

In a moment she was back, her  eyes shining. "There is!" she said. "One  boat. A
small thing, but big enough for us three."

Aitrus's eyes came up, suspicion in them. "Was it tied up?"

She nodded, then frowned. "What is it?"

But Aitrus merely shook his head. "Nothing. Let us go at once."

Gehn helped his father stand, then  supported him as they made their  way toward
where the boat was moored. They were not halfway across when a fearful cry  rang
out from the lower city at their backs.

All three of them turned, shocked by the sudden sound.

It came again.

Aitrus looked to his wife. "Go to the boat, Ti'ana. Take Gehn and wait there for
me. It might be Jiladis."

"But Aitrus ..."

"Go to the boat. I'll join you in a while."

Anna hesitated, reluctant to  let him go, yet  she knew that this,  too, was his
duty-to help his  fellow guildsmen if  in need. Taking  Gehn's hand she  led him
away, but all the while she kept glancing back at Aitrus, watching as he  slowly
crossed  the  open  harbor  front,  then  disappeared  into  one  of  the narrow
alleyways.

"Come, Gehn," she said. "Let us secure the boat for when your father returns."

*   *   *

Aitrus leaned against the wall, doubled up, getting his breath. The pain in  his
limbs and in his stomach was growing worse and he felt close now to  exhaustion.
Moreover, he was lost. Or,  at least, he had no  idea just where the sounds  had
come from. He had thought it was  from somewhere in this locality, but now  that
he was here there was nothing. The deserted streets were silent.

Across from him a sign  hung over the shadowed door  of a tavern. There were  no
words, but the picture conid be  glimpsed, even through the layer of  gray-brown
residue. It showed a white, segmented worm, burrowing blindly through the  rock.
The sight of it made him frown, as if at some vague, vestigial memory. The Blind
Worm. Where had he heard mention of that before?

Aitrus straightened, looking up. The windows  of the upper story were open,  the
shutters thrown back.

Even as he looked, there came a loud, distinctive groan.

So he had not  been wrong. Whoever  it was, they  were up there,  in that second
floor room.

Aitrus crossed the street then slowly pushed the door open, listening. The groan
came again. A set of narrow stairs led up to his right. They were smeared, as if
many feet had used them. Cautiously, looking about him all the while, he slipped
inside and began to climb them, careful to make no noise.

He was almost at the top when, from the room above came a grunt and then another
pained groan. Something creaked.

Aitrus stopped  then turned  his head,  looking up  into the  open doorway  just
behind him, beyond the turn in the stairs.

A soft, scraping noise came  from the room, and then  a tiny gasp of pain.  That
sound released Aitrus. Finding new reserves  of energy, he hurried up the  final
steps.

Standing in the doorway, he gasped, astonished by the sight that met his eyes.

It was a long, low-ceilinged room,  with windows overlooking the harbor. In  the
center of the room  a table was overturned  and all three chairs.  Blood smeared
the floor surrounding  them, trailing away  across the room.  And at the  end of
that trail of blood,  attempting to pull himself  up onto the window  ledge, was
Veovis, the broad blade of a butcher's cleaver buried deep in his upper back.

"Veovis!"

But Veovis seemed  unaware of his  presence. His fingers  clutched at the  stone
ledge as his  feet tried to  push himself up,  his face set  in an expression of
grim determination.

Horrified, Aitrus rushed  halfway across the  room, yet even  as he did,  Veovis
collapsed and fell back, groaning.

Aitrus knelt over him.

"Veovis ... Veovis, it is Aitrus. What happened here?"

There was a movement  in Veovis's face. His  eyes blinked and then  he seemed to
focus on Aitrus's face. And with that came recognition.

"What happened?"

Veovis laughed, then coughed. Blood was  on his lips. His voice, when  he spoke,
came raggedly, between pained breaths.

"My colleague and I... we had a little ... disagreement."

The ironic smile was pained.

"A'Gaeris?"

Veovis closed his eyes then gave the faintest nod.

"And you fought?"

Veovis's  eyes flickered  open. "It  was no  fight... He  ..." Veovis  swallowed
painfully. "He stabbed me ... when my back was turned."

Veovis grimaced, fighting for  his breath. Aitrus thought  he was going to  die,
right there  and then,  but slowly  Veovis's breathing  normalized again and his
eyes focused on Aitrus once more.

"I would not do it."

"What? What wouldn't you do?"

"The Age he wanted...  I would not write  it." A tiny spasm  ran through Veovis.
Aitrus gripped him.

"Tell me," he said. "I need to know."

Veovis almost smiled. "And I need to tell you."

He swallowed again, then, "He wanted a special place ... a place where we  could
be gods."

"Gods?"

Veovis nodded.

It was the  ultimate heresy, the  ultimate misuse of  the great Art:  to mistake
Writing, the ability to link with preexistent worlds, with true creation. And at
the end, Veovis, it seemed, had refused to step over that final line. He  looked
up at Aitrus now.

Aitrus blinked. Suddenly,  the image of  his workroom had  come to his  mind-the
trail of footprints leading halfway to the Book but no farther.

"Was that you?" he asked softly. "In my workroom, I mean."

Veovis took two long breaths, then nodded.

"But why? After all you did, why let us live?"

"Because she spoke out for me. Because ... she said there was good in me ... And
she was right... even at the end."

Veovis  closed  his  eyes  momentarily,  the  pain  overwhelming  him,  then  he
continued, struggling now to get the words out before there were no more words.

"It was as if there was a dark  cloud in my head, poisoning my thoughts. I  felt
..." Veovis  groaned, "nothing.  Nothing but  hatred, anyway.  Blind hatred.  Of
everything and everyone."

There was a shout,  from outside. Carefully laying  Veovis down, he went  to the
window and looked out, what he saw filling him with dismay.

"What is it?" Veovis asked from below him.

Out  on the  lake a  single boat  was heading  out toward  the distant  islands.
Standing at its stern, steering  it, was the distinctive figure  ofA'Gaeris. And
before him in the boat, laying on  the bare planks, their hands and feet  bound,
were Anna and Gehn.

"It's A'Gaeris," he said quietly. "He has Ti'ana and my son."

"Then you must save her, Aitrus."

Aitrus gave a bleak cry. "How? A'Gaeris has the only boat, and I am too weak  to
swim."

"Then link there."

Aitrus turned and looked down at the dying man. "Where is he taking them?"

Veovis looked up  at him, his  eyes clear now,  as if he  had passed beyond  all
pain. "To K'veer. That's where we are based. That's where all the Books are now.
We've been collecting  them. Hundreds of  them. Some are  in the Book  Room, but
most are on the Age I made for  him. They are in the cabin on the  south island.
That's where you link to. The Book of that Age is in my study."

Aitrus knelt over Veovis again. "I understand. But how does that help me? That's
in K'veer. How do I get there?"

In answer,  Veovis gestured  toward his  left breast.  There was  a deep  pocket
there, and something in it. Aitrus reached inside and took out a slender book.

"He did  not know  I had  this," Veovis  said, smiling  now. "It  links to Nidur
Gemat. There is a Book there that links directly to my study on K'veer. You  can
use them to get to the island before he does."

Aitrus stared at the Book a moment, then looked back at Veovis.

Veovis met his eyes. "Do you still not trust me, Aitrus! Then listen. The Book I
mentioned. It has a green  cover. It is there that  A'Gaeris plans to go. It  is
there that you might trap him. You understand?"

Aitrus hesitated a moment,  then, "I will trust  you, for I have  no choice, and
perhaps there is some good in you at the last."

*   *   *

The city  was receding  now. In  an hour  he would  be back  in K'veer. A'Gaeris
turned from  the sight  and looked  back at  his captives  where they lay at the
bottom of the boat.

He would  have killed  them there  and then,  at the  harbor's edge, and thought
nothing of it, but  the woman had betrayed  the fact that her  husband was still
abroad.

And so, he would use them as his bait. And once he had Aitrus, he would  destroy
all three of  them, for he  had not the  sentimental streak that  had ruined his
once-companion, Veovis.

"He will not come for us, you know."

A'Gaeris looked down at the woman disdainfully. "Of course he'll come. The man's
a sentimental fool. He came before, didn't he?"

"But not this time. He'll wait for you. In D'ni."

"While you and your son are my captives?" A'Gaeris laughed. "Why, he will be out
of his mind with worry, don't you think?"

He saw how that silenced her. Yes, with the two of them safe in a cell on K'veer
he could go back and settle things with Guildsman Aitrus once and for all.

For there was only one boat in all of D'ni now, and he had it.

"No," he said  finally. "He'lHvait there  at the harbor  until I bring  the boat
back. And then I'll have him. Oh yes, Ti'ana. You can be certain of it!"

*   *   *

The first  book had  linked him  to a  room in  the great  house on Nidur Gemat,
filled with Veovis's things.  There, after a brief  search, he found the  second
Book that linked to this, more familiar room on the island of K'veer, a place he
had often come in better times.

Aitrus  stood there  a moment,  leaning heavily  against the  desk, a  bone-deep
weariness making his head spin. Then, knowing  he had less than an hour to  make
his preparations, he looked about him.

The Book with the emerald  green cover was on a  table in the far corner  of the
room, beside a stack of other, older Books. Going across to them, Aitrus felt  a
sudden despair, thinking of what had  been done here. So much endeavor  had come
to naught,  here in  this room.  And for  what reason?  Envy? Revenge? Or was it
simple malice?

Was A'Gaeris mad?

Aitrus groaned, thinking of the end  to which Veovis had come. Then,  determined
to make one  final, meaningful effort,  he lifted the  Book and carried  it back
over to the desk.

There he sat, opening the Book and reading through the first few pages. After  a
while he lifted his  head, nodding to himself.  Here it was, nakedly  displayed:
what Veovis might, in time, have become; a great Master among Masters, as great,
perhaps, as the legendary Ri'Neref.

He began to cough,  a hacking, debilitating cough,  then put his fingers  to his
lips. There was blood there now. He, too, was dying.

Taking a cloth from his pocket,  Aitrus wiped his mouth and then  began, dipping
the pen and scoring out essential phrases and adding in others at the end of the
book. Trimming and pruning this most perfect of Ages. Preparing it.

And all the while he thought of Anna and of Gehn, and prayed silently that  they
would be all right.

*   *   *

A'Gaeris climbed the  steps of the  harbor at K'veer,  Anna and the  boy just in
front of him, goaded on by the point of his knife.

At the top he paused  and, grasping the loose ends  of the ropes by which  their
hands were bound, wrapped  them tightly about his  left hand. Then, leading  the
two behind him like a pair of hounds, he went inside the mansion.

K'veer  had not  been untouched  by the  tremors, and  parts of  its  impressive
architecture had cracked and fallen  away into the surrounding lake,  yet enough
of it remained for it to be recognizable. Anna, who had wondered where they were
going, now felt a sense of resignation descend on her.

If Veovis was here then there was nothirit Aitrus could do.

Anna glanced at  her son. Gehn's  face was closed,  his eyes sullen,  as if this
latest twist were no more than could be expected. Yet he was bearing up, for all
his trials, and she felt a strange twinge of pride in him for that.

She was about  to speak, when  she caught the  scent of burning.  A'Gaeris, too,
must have noticed it at the same moment, for he stopped suddenly and frowned.

For a  moment he  sniffed the  air, as  if he  had been  mistaken, then,  with a
bellow, he began to hurriedly climb the stairs, dragging them along after him.

As they approached the Book Room the smell of burning grew and grew until, at  a
turn in the  stairs, they could  see the flickering  glow of a  fire up ahead of
them.

A'Gaeris roared. "My Books!"

For a  moment, as  he tugged  at the  rope, Anna  almost fell,  but she kept her
footing. Gehn did, however. She heard his  cry and saw that A'Gaeris had let  go
of the rope that held him. But there was no time to see if he was all right. The
next instant she found herself behind A'Gaeris in the doorway to the Book  Room.
Beyond him the room was brilliantly lit. Smoke bellowed from a stack of  burning
Books. And just to one  side of the flaming pile-a  Book in one hand, a  flaming
torch in the other-stood Aitrus.

A'Gaeris slammed the great door shut behind him, then took a step toward Aitrus,
yet even as he did, Aitrus raised the torch and called to him:

"Come any closer and  I'll burn the rest  of your Books, A'Gaeris!  I know where
they are. I've seen them.  In the cabin on the  south island. I linked there.  I
can link there now, unless..."

Anna felt A'Gaeris's hand reach out and grasp her roughly, and then his arm  was
about her neck, the dagger raised, its point beneath her neck.

"I have your wife, Aitrus. Go near those Books and I shall kill her."

"Kill her and I shall destroy your Books. I'll link through and put them to  the
torch. And what will  you have then. Master  Philosopher? Nothing. Not now  that
you've killed Veovis."

Anna could feel A'Gaeris trembling with  anger. Any false move and she  would be
dead.

"Give me that Book," he said once more in a low growl. "Give it to me, or Ti'ana
dies."

Aitrus was smiling now<He lifted the Book slightly. "This is a masterful work. I
know Veovis was proud of it."

A'Gaeris stared at Aitrus. "It was called Ederat."

"No," Aitrus said, his eyes meeting Anna's. "Veovis had another name for it.  He
called it Be-el-ze-bub."

Anna caught her breath. She stared at him, loving him more in that instant  than
she had ever loved him.

I love you, she mouthed.

Aitrus answered her with his eyes.

"Well?" he asked, returning his attention  to A'Gaeris. "Do we have a  deal? The
Book-and all those Books within-for my wife?"

But A'Gaeris simply laughed.

Aitrus lowered the torch. His eyes went  to the cover of the Book, then,  with a
final loving look at Anna, he placed  the hand that held the burning torch  upon
the glowing panel.

A'Gaeris howled. Thrusting Anna away from him he ran across the room.

"Aitrus I" she yelled as his figure shimmered and vanished. "Aitrus!"

But he was gone. The great Book fell with a thud to the floor beside the burning
stack.

A'Gaeris threw himself  at it in  unseemly haste and  almost wrenched the  cover
from the spine forcing it open.

Anna watched, her  heart in her  throat as, his  chest heaving, A'Gaeris  looked
across at her and, with a smile that was half snarl, placed his hand against the
descriptive panel and linked.

*   *   *

Even as he linked into the cave, A'Gaeris stumbled, doubling up in pain. The air
was burning, the  reek of sulphur  choking. The first  breath seared his  lungs.
Putting  out an  arm, A'Gaeris  staggered forward,  howling, looking  about  him
desperately for the Linking Book back to D'ni. Yet even as he did, a great crack
appeared in the floor of the  cavern. The heat intensified. There was  a glimpse
of brilliant orange-redness, one stark moment of realization, and then the  rock
slab on which he stood tilted forward, A'Gaeris's shrill cry of surprise cut off
as he tumbled into the molten flow.

And then silence. The primal, unheard silence of the great cauldron of creation.

*   *   *

Anna  cried quietly,  crouching over  the green-covered  Book and  studying  the
glowing image there.

For a moment or two there was the temptation to follow him: to end it all,  just
as Aitrus had. Then someone hammered on the Book Room door.

It brought her back to herself. Gehn.

Anna turned to face the smoldering pile of ashes that had once been D'ni  Books,
then dropped the green-covered Book upon the rest. Sparks scattered. A cloud  of
smoke wafted up toward the high ceding of the room. A moment later, flames began
to lick the burnished leather of the cover.

For a moment she simply stared, feeling  the gap there now where the other  book
other life had been, just as Tasera had described it. Then, getting to her  feet
again, she turned, even as the knocking came again, more urgently this time, and
began to walk across.



EPILOGUE

The sun was edging above the mountains far to the east as the figure of a  woman
emerged from the lip of the volcano, cradling a sleeping child. The desert floor
was still in deep shadow. It lay like a dark sea about the bright, black-mouthed
circle of the caldera. The woman  paused, lifting her chin, slowly scanning  the
surrounding desert, then  began to descend  the rock-littered slope,  her shadow
stretched out long and thin behind her, black against the dawn's red.

As she came closer to  the cleft, a light wind  began to blow, lifting the  dark
strands of her hair  behind her. Sand danced  across the rock then  settled. The
woman seemed gaunt and  wraithlike, and the child  in her arms was  but skin and
bone, yet there was a light in her eyes, a vitality, that was like the fire from
the deep earth.

Seeing the cleft, she slowed, looking about her once more, then went across  and
knelt, laying the child  down gently on a  narrow ledge of rock.  Taking the two
packs from her shoulders, she set them  down. Then, using her hands and feet  to
find her way, she ducked down into the dark gash of the cleft.

There was a pool down there at the foot of the cleft. In the predawn darkness it
was filled with stars, reflected from  the sky far overhead. Like a  shadow, she
knelt beside  it, scooping  up a  handful of  the pure,  cool water,  and drank.
Refreshed, she turned, still  kneeling, and looked about  her. It was cool  down
here, and there was water. With a little work it could be more.

Anna nodded, then stood, wiping her  hands against her shirt. "Here," she  said.
"We'll begin again here."
