Chapter Twelve

"WE STUDIED THE TAL TAHIR IN SCHOOL," THE

girl said. "But nobody there remembers them the way you do. What were they really like?"

"They were a lot different from us," the old man said. "In the sciences, they were well beyond us in many ways. But they didn't put as much emphasis on technology as we did. They knew a lot about medicine, for example, and they had nuclear fission for energy. But they didn 't have stream drive, or even space drive, from what we could see. No air transportation at all, for that matter."

"Maybe they didn't want to leave their planet." The old man nodded. "I think you're right. They didn 'tfeel the same urge as humans to extend their reach so far. Everything they needed was on Clarion. " The fartalker rattled with static. The discussion between Karyn and Sabastian was brief. She told him what Paul and Dorland had seen inside the temple, and of Dorland's recollection of the building near the river. Sabastian agreed immediately 127

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that they should alter their plans to search for that building.

After putting away the fartalker, Karyn led them back the way they had come to the intersection of David and Tube Four. Karyn admitted that she had never gone out that far, but she was fairly certain Tube Four was intact nearly all the way to the river. They traveled along the tube for an hour before they reached the access port at the intersection of Tube Four and Fara's Tube.

"This is as close as we'll get," Karyn said. "Let's spend the night here. We'll start looking for the building at dawn."

They hadn't brought sleeping mats, so they were forced to clear away an area on the tube floor and use their packs as pillows. Paul knew he wouldn't be able to sleep right away, so he volunteered for the first watch. He stationed himself fifty meters from where the others had bedded down and got as comfortable as he could. From there he could see far down the tube in both directions. If unwanted visitors came up through an access port, he should be able to see their lights in plenty of time to get out a warning to the others.

He needed time to think, and he was grateful for the silence. Somehow, he and Dorland had been linked into a single consciousness inside the chamber. Paul had tried without success to convince himself that he'd imagined it all. Diana and Shari had been there in the chamber, too, and that made even less sense. Whatever had happened, Paul was convinced that the creature High Elder Brill called forth as Lord Tern was responsible.

His eyes went to the others, who lay sleeping on the floor of the tube, and he thought about the larger group that made up the population of this strange planet; To Paul, it was a nameless and faceless group consisting of those who were with him now and a few figures he'd seen through Selmer Ogram's binoculars. Selmer had told him the people of Fairhope feared the Holy Order—

and Paul could understand that well enough. But Selmer had also said they were enchanted by High Elder Brill and the power he shared with Lord Tern. Whether that power was real or imagined was a question that remained to be answered—but it had held this planet in its grip for two hundred years. There were other problems to be faced as well. How will Clarion ever fit into UNSA7

With both Parke Sabre and Hans Maiar of the Fringe Alliance looking for the planet, Paul knew this issue would have to be dealt with sooner or later. Besides the Holy Order and the Sons of God and the other obstacles that would interfere with outside relationships, the fact was that Clarion was even more backward than Giant Forest. It had no modem industrial base for trade, and the people of Clarion would not have the slightest notion of how to function within the UNSA environment.

And if Hans Maiar found the planet first. . . Paul didn't even want to think about that.

The questions were still whirling around in his brain when Karyn came to relieve him two hours later.

"You'd better get some sleep," she suggested.

"We'll have a big day tomorrow."

He started to push himself to his feet, then changed his mind and sat back down on the hard metal floor. Maybe she could help him sort out some of the questions he had about the Tal Tahir.

"Selmer spoke of Lord Tern as the High Elder's personal god," he said. "I assumed Lord Tern was the only Tal Tahir god."

She settled down beside him and slung her pouch at her feet. "There's only one at a time, but each High Elder chooses his own god. Lord Tern was 130

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Brill's choice when he accepted the position of High Elder."

"His . . . choice?"

She nodded. "When a High Elder dies, his personal god dies with him—something about the Tal Tahir god and the human merging as one being in death. Then the other elders elect a new High Elder. They have a big ceremony in the temple, and that's when the new High Elder selects his god." Something about that didn't fit basic logic. "High Elder Brill chose Lord Tern, but Lord Tern is the one who knows all and sees all. Doesn't that strike you as self-contradictory?"

She shrugged. "Debate it with High Elder Brill. I'm just telling you how it works."

Paul remembered something Selmer had said

earlier. "The rules you live under change each time you get a new High Elder and a new Tal Tahir god."

"Yes, and never for the better. The Tal Tahir god sets the rules, and the High Elder brings them to the people—and that sets the tone for the way of life for everyone on Clarion." She moved the pack and stretched out her legs. "Based on what I've read, things weren't so bad for a hundred years or so after Captain Anson died. The Holy Order tried to offer the people some hope and security. But it's clear that over time the Holy Order changed. The High Elders became dictators, and the deacons turned into executioners and assassins. Alban Brill was elected ten years ago, and he chose Lord Tern to be the ruling Tal Tahir god. None of the others were as bad as those two."

It was a grim concept: Alban Brill and the High Elders that had come before him piously carrying out the orders of alien gods while their people lived in fear and the ancient city slowly crumbled into dust around, them.

"Now it's your turn," Karyn said. He looked up in surprise.

"Selmer told me about Dorland's show," she said. "Has he been a psi-player ever since he left Clarion?"

Paul shook his head. "He was a storyteller out on the Fringe when I met him."

"A storyteller?"

"There aren't many around anymore. A storyteller is like a player in a lot of ways, but he doesn't use lights and music. Instead, he simply tells a story."

"People pay to hear someone tell a story?"

"Well . . . it's a little more complicated than that." He settled into a more comfortable position and pulled his jacket around him. "The storyteller starts out with a general idea—maybe a love story, or a story about somebody overcoming obstacles to win a personal victory. He creates a few characters and starts telling his story around them. Then he begins to blend in people from the audience."

"He—" She stopped, thought about it. "How does he blend them in?"

"I'll give you an example. If there's a man in the audience who's having money problems, the storyteller might give the same problem to one of the characters in his story. That may not be the main point of the story—usually isn't, in fact. But the problem will be part of the story, and the story will unfold and reach a conclusion in a way that helps the man in the audience see how to solve his own problem."

"This would be someone the storyteller has never met before?"

"Most likely."

"How can he tell a story about somebody he doesn't even know?" Then she looked thoughtful.

"Actually, it sounds almost like High Elder Brill's Godsday service."

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