Shrouded Planet

I

They were having something of a ceremony. Out on the lawn in front of the main building of the Bel-rogas School of Divine Law, they were celebrating the School's anniversary. On this date, sixty-one years before, the Earthmen had come down from the sky to help bring the Law to the people of Nidor. Elder Grandfather Kinis peCharnok Yorgen had officiated at the dedication of the ground; the Earthman Jones had descended from the sky in a shining ship.

Sindi geKiv Brajjyd, who was in her first year of study at the School, stood in the shadows of the stable behind the great building and watched the multitude out front. All she could think of was the way they were crushing the grass on the lawn. It seemed a silly and overly sentimental thing to her, all this speech-making.

She patted the smooth flank of her deest. "There, boy," she said soothingly. "I'm bored too."

The graceful animal snorted and nosed up against the hitching post as if he were anxious to be almost anywhere but where he was.

That was the way Sindi felt too, she decided, as her sharp eyes picked out the earnest face of her father. He was seated out front. Kiv, like a good alumnus and responsible leader of Nidorian society, had, of course, come to Bel-rogas to take in the festivities. Right now he was watching the speaker as if he were the Great Light Himself.

As a matter of fact, the speaker actually was Grandfather Drel peNibro Brajjyd, the current Brajjyd representative on the Council of Elders. Grandfather Drel peNibro had succeeded to the ruling body some ten years earlier, on the death of the venerable Bor peDrogh Brajjyd. Sindi was still able to remember the gnarled, silvered old man who had headed their clan in the years before the accession of Drel peNibro.

She had seen Grandfather Bor peDrogh preside over the Feast of the Sixteen Clans only a few weeks before his death. That had been when she was seven.

Grandfather Drel peNibro was a pompous, somewhat self-important old man who loved making speeches at ceremonial occasions. Sindi was aware of her father's private opinion of him—that he was a tradition-bound, unintelligent old man who had succeeded to the Council solely because he had outlasted all the deserving contenders.

Kiv, who was a priest in Drel peNibro's entourage, had let that opinion drop once in Sindi's hearing, and had done his best to cover for it. But Sindi had noticed it, and it formed part of her mental approach toward the Nidorian Grandfatherhood that constituted the Council.

Sindi watched Drel peNibro from the shelter of the deest-stable. He was wearing the full formal regalia of a Council member, a flamboyant outfit which seemed to

Sindi a fairly silly affair and yet somehow still terribly impressive. His voice floated to her through the quiet air of the Nidorian mid-afternoon.

"... this noble day ..." he was saying, and then his voice drifted out of the range of her hearing. In the distance Sindi heard the chuffing of the Central Railway Extension that ran the five miles from the Holy City of Gelusar to the Bel-rogas School.

Then his voice became audible again. Sindi managed to catch his words as he said, "...is our duty to express gratitude toward our benefactors. And yet we cannot do it directly. For whatever benefits the Earthmen have brought us, these sixty-one years, are creditable, not to them—let me make that clear, not to them—but to the Agent of their arrival on our soil."

The Elder Grandfather looked upward. The multitude assembled followed suit, and Sindi found herself doing the same. She stared at the iron-gray cloud layer which partially obscured the Great Light without hiding His effulgence completely from view.

Then Grandfather Drel peNibro went on. "The Bel-rogas School, in its sixty-one years of bringing the Law to the young people of Nidor, has served as an incalculably valuable—"

Sindi strained to catch the Elder's words, which were competing with the harsh breathing-sounds of the deest and the distant drone of the railway. As she leaned forward to hear better—because, though she was too independent a girl to take part willingly in any such foolishness as the anniversary ceremony, she was far too curious about everything to let a word of it escape her ears—as she leaned forward, a new voice came from directly behind her, startling her.

"Sindi? What are you doing here?"

She whirled and saw a tall, grave-looking man dis-mounting from a deest and reaching for a hitching-rope. He was pale-skinned, dark-eyed, and bearded—the Earthman, Smith.

"Hello," Sindi said, uncertainly.

Smith drew a cloth from his pocket and wiped his face. He was sweating heavily, as most of the Earthmen did in Nidor's moist air. Sindi saw that his deest was near the point of exhaustion. Obviously, Smith had had a long, hard ride from somewhere.

"Why aren't you out there listening to the Grandfather?" Smith asked. His voice was kind and gentle, like those of all the other Earthmen. "All of the students belong out there, you know. You should be with them."

Sindi nodded absently. "My father's out there too,'' she said.

Suddenly Smith moved very close to her, and she became conscious of his curious Earthman odor. His eyes were weary-looking; his beard needed combing. He looked at her for a long time without speaking.

"Tell me," he finally said. "Why aren't you out there with everyone else? Why aren't you with them?"

Sindi slowly rubbed her hand back and forth over her deest's flank. "Because," she said thoughtfully, not wanting to get into any additional trouble. "Just— because."

"That's not enough of a reason."

Suddenly Sindi felt terribly small and young. "It bored me," she said. "I just didn't want to have to sit out there all day and listen to—" she paused, horrified at herself.

"—and listen to the Elder Brajjyd," Smith completed. He smiled. "Ah, Sindi, how your father would like to hear you say that!"

She shot a panicky glance at him. "You wouldn't tell him, would you? I didn't mean anything by it! Smith—Smith—"

"Don't worry." He reached out and patted her shoulder, caressing the soft golden fuzz that covered it. "Suppose you go over now and take part in the rest of the ceremony, and let me worry about keeping secrets."

"Thanks, Smith," she said, all fear gone. "I'll go out and hear what the Elder has to say, I guess." She thumped her deest fondly, smiled at the Earthman, and walked toward the crowd.

Very carefully she tiptoed across the lawn and melted into the audience. The Elder Brajjyd was still speaking. His powerful voice rang out clearly and well.

"You see the products of this school around you," the Elder said. "The most valuable members of our priesthood; the leaders of our society; our most brilliant minds—we may trace them all to the Bel-rogas School of Divine Law. I regret," said the Elder sadly, "that I, myself, was unable to attend the School. But before many years elapse, I think it is fairly safe to say, the Council of Elders will be constituted almost totally of graduates of the Bel-rogas School.

"I see among you today, in this very gathering, men who will undoubtedly hold Council seats one day. From my own clan alone I see several—there is that brilliant Bel-rogas alumnus, Grandfather Kiv peGanz Brajjyd, now one of the most valued members of my staff, and there are others here as well. And to whom do we owe this? To whom—"

The Elder's voice grew louder and more impassioned.

Sindi threaded her way through the close-packed listeners searching for her father. She tried to remember where he had been sitting when she saw him from the stable, and headed in that general direction. The assembled Nidorians were sitting quietly and soaking in the Elder's words. He launched into a long quotation from the Scripture, which Sindi, almost as a reflex, recognized as being from the Eighteenth Section. As the Elder began to unfold the complexities of the quotation, Sindi caught sight of Kiv again. There was an empty seat at his left,, No doubt she had been expected to be sitting there.

She edged through the narrow aisle and slid into the seat. Kiv nodded a rather cold welcome to her as she sat down.

"Thus, as it is said in the Scripture,'' the Elder went on, " 'Those beloved of the Great Light shall hold tomorrow in their hands.' We must never forget this, my friends. May the Great Light illumine your minds as He does the world."

Drel peNibro stepped down from the rostrum and took his seat. The assembly relaxed, easing the long tension built up while the Elder was speaking. Kiv leaned over to whisper to Sindi.

"Where have you been?" he asked harshly. "I've been expecting you all afternoon. You said you'd meet me for midmeal!"

"I'm sorry, Kiv," she told him. "I was busy in the labs and couldn't get free till just now."

"In the labs? On Commemoration Day? Sindi, if you're—"

"Please, Kiv", she said in annoyance. "I came as quickly as I could. Have I missed much?"

"Only the Elder Brajjyd's speech," Kiv said in a tone of heavy sarcasm. "He mentioned me. Apparently I'm back in his good graces for a while, no thanks to you."

"Father! You know I didn't mean to seem disrespectful, that day I didn't give the Grandfather the proper salute. It was only that I was late for classes, and—"

"Forget it, Sindi. The Elder seemed quite upset about it at the time, but perhaps he's forgotten it. Meanwhile, I've brought someone I'd like you to meet."

Kiv gestured to a strange man sitting at his left. "This is Yorgen peBor Yorgen," Kiv said. "Yorgen peBor, this is my daughter, Sindi geKiv."

"Pleased, I'm sure," Yorgen peBor said, in a not-very-enthusiastic tone. Sindi returned his greeting with a similar sentiment.

"You may know Yorgen peBor's father," Kiv continued. "The Grandfather Bor peYorgen Yorgen. And you're aware who his father is, aren't you?"

Kiv's tone of voice left little doubt.

"The Elder Grandfather Yorgen pe Yorgen Yorgen, of course."

"Yorgen peBor here is his son's son. I'd—I'd like you two to get to know each other well, Sindi." Kiv smiled. What was on his mind was perfectly plain.

Rahn, Sindi thought, half-despairingly. Rahn—1 won't forget you, anyway.

"Certainly, Father," she said aloud, concealing her distress. "I'm sure Yorgen peBor and I will get along splendidly together."

"I'm sure also," Kiv said. He gestured toward the speaker's platform. "That's not Grandfather Syg going up there to speak, is it? Why, he was teaching here when I was going to the School!"

"That's who it is, none the less," Sindi said.

She watched the aged figure climb painfully to the rostrum. The old man, speaking in a dry, withered voice, made some rambling prefatory remarks and embarked on a discussion of the wonderful past of Bel-rogas and the promise the future held. Sindi sat back glumly and contented herself with surreptitiously scrutinizing Yorgen peBor out of the corner of her eye.

So Kiv was going to marry her off, eh? His motivation in arranging such a match was perfectly transparent. Yorgen peBor was of the highest lineage, a direct descendant of the great Lawgiver, Bel-rogas Yorgen.

Besides, Yorgen peBor's father was the Uncle of Public Works, holding a pleasant and well-salaried position, and his father's father was the oldest and most respected member of the Council of Elders. Certainly a marriage into that clan would be advantageous for Kiv as well as for Sindi.

But yet—

She examined Yorgen peBor, sizing him up as a prospective husband. He was big, not especially handsome in Sindi's eyes, though far from plain, and rather stupid-looking in a genteel sort of way. He promised a dull but pleasant kind of existence.

She thought of Rahn—penniless Rahn, whose father was a pauper. Oh, well, she thought. We could never have managed it anyway. Too many factors stood in the way of their marriage.

And now, the biggest and bulkiest factor was Yorgen peBor Yorgen. With a marriage all but arranged, Sindi didn't dare tell her father she didn't like the idea.

She searched the crowd anxiously for Rahn, as Grandfather Syg droned on and on.

I' d like to see him once more, she thought. Just once.

She glanced at her father, suppressed a little snort of rage, and sat back to hear what Grandfather Syg had to say. Yorgen peBor Yorgen appeared incredibly bored with the whole thing.

The celebration was climaxed by a long ceremonial prayer. Sindi wanted desperately to close her eyes against the brilliance of the cloudy sky overhead, but she didn't dare to; her father would see. She didn't want to embarrass Kiv.

At last it ended. The assembly broke up, slowly, and Commemoration Day was over for another year. The multitude fragmented into little clumps of people.

Kiv turned to Sindi as the prayer ended.

"Now I can talk to you." He leaned forward. "Tell me—your letters were all so vague. Do you find the School as wonderful a thing as I did, Sindi?"

"Wonderful?" She looked puzzled for a moment. "Oh, of course, yes, Kiv." She had been enrolled for only three weeks. "I've been specializing in chemistry. It's very interesting. I have a little laboratory over in the back building, and I work there."

"A private laboratory?"

"No—not yet. They'll give me a private lab next year, if they like my work. No; I share it with another first year student. We work very well together."

Kiv stroked his golden fuzz reflectively. "That's good to hear. What's her name?"

Sindi paused. After a moment she blurted out: "It's not a her, Kiv. His name is Rahn peDorvis Brajjyd. He's a very good student."

"I see," Kiv said. Sindi could tell that he didn't care much for the idea at all. "Rahn peDorvis Brajjyd, eh? A relative, perhaps?"

"No. I asked him that, as soon as I found out we were of the same clan. His people are from up north, from Sugon. We're not related at all."

Kiv frowned. Sindi watched him anxiously, wondering what it was she had done wrong this time.

"Strictly speaking, you know," Kiv said, "that's not true. All Brajjyds are related, no matter how distantly."

"Oh, Kiv!" Sindi was annoyed. "Don't be so technical all the time. So what if his grandfather ten generations back was a cousin of mine? We're actually not relatives at all, so far as anyone cares."

"So far as the Law cares, you are," Kiv said. "Don't forget that."

At this point Yorgen peBor Yorgen cleared his throat in a meaningful fashion, and Kiv frowned apologetically. "But here we are, quarreling like hungry animals, and I've forgotten about poor Yorgen peBor. I'm sorry I was so impolite," Kiv said.

"You needn't apologize to me, sir," Yorgen said.

It was a good point, thought Sindi. In his over-eagerness to be nice to Yorgen peBor, Kiv had committed something of a breach of etiquette by apologizing to him. No matter how grievously Kiv had offended the younger man, it was out of place for a Grandfather to apologize to anyone younger.

Kiv smiled inanely, trying to cover his blunder. He moved to one side to allow Yorgen to stand next to Sindi.

"Suppose I leave you two here," Kiv said. "There are some old friends I'd like to look up. Tell me—is the Earthman Jones still here?"

"He is," said Sindi. "But he's pretty hard to get to see. He's always busy and doesn't get around to the students very much any more."

"He'11 see me," Kiv said confidently. ''Don't worry about that." He walked away across the lawn, leaving Sindi to cope with Yorgen peBor Yorgen by herself.

"What's chemistry?" Yorgen asked her, as soon as they were alone. His broad, heavy face reflected an utter lack of knowledge, and he seemed thoroughly complacent about the situation.

Sindi considered the prospect of spending the rest of her life in the well-meaning but clumsy embraces of Yorgen peBor Yorgen, and entertained some thoughts about her father and his political aspirations which were so vivid in their malevolence that she looked around fearfully to see if anyone had overheard.

II

Kiv followed the well-worn path to the main building, and entered the big Central Room where he and Narla had spent so much time, twenty years before.

It looked much the same as his memory told him it had been. The winding staircase leading to the students' rooms still stood massively in the center of the hall, a glossy monument of black wood. The old familiar benches, the rows of books along the walls, the arching windows through which the Great Light gleamed— they had not changed.

A boy came by, clutching a stack of books under one arm. Kiv looked at him, feeling a sharp twinge of nostalgia. The boy's body was bright gold and his eyes were wide and shining. He might have been the twenty-year-old Kiv come back to life.

Kiv stopped him.

"Can you tell me where I can find the Earthman Jones?" he asked.

"Jones' office is upstairs," the boy said. "But he doesn't like visitors."

"Many thanks. May the Great Light—"

But the boy must have been in a hurry. Before Kiv had completed his blessing, the boy had scooted away. Kiv shook his head sadly and climbed the well-worn stairs to Jones' office.

He paused before the door, then knocked twice, firmly. There was no reply from within.

He knocked again.

A soft, barely audible voice said, "Who's there?" "May I come in?"

There was no answer. Kiv waited five seconds, then knocked again. After a short pause, the response came. "Who are you, please?"

"Kiv peGanz Brajjyd," Kiv said loudly. Again, no response for a few seconds. Then the door clicked open, and the soft voice said, "Come on in."

Kiv pushed open the door and peered in. Jones was standing behind the chair next to the door. Kiv remembered the tired-looking, strangely alien blue eyes, the short, almost arrogant little beard, the smooth Earthman face.

"Well, it's been twenty years," Kiv said.

"Has it been that long?" asked Jones. "I've barely noticed. It seems like just the last week that you were here, and your wife—what was her name?"

"Narla."

"Narla. And you were doing research on insects— the hugl, as I recall, wasn't it?"

Nodding, Kiv stared at Jones.

"You're old," Kiv suddenly said. "I remember your beard—it was brown. Now it's silver—the way an Elder's body hair is."

Jones smiled. "The Great Light deals with all His subjects in one way," he said. "I have been on Nidor for sixty-one years, Kiv. One's beard does turn to silver in sixty-one years."

He moved toward his desk, still littered as always with papers, and casually turned a sheet of paper face down, not concealing the action from Kiv.

"School records," he explained. "It wouldn't do for the parent of one of our pupils to see them. Confidential, you know. That is your daughter, of course? Sindi geKiv? A tall, very slender girl? I don't know the students as well as I did in your day."

"Sindi's my daughter," Kiv acknowledged.

"A fine girl. She'll make a better scientist than her father, they tell me—and we know how good her father was! We don't see many hugl any more, do we, Kiv? Thanks to you and your process, of course."

"I'd almost forgotten about that. Almost. But I think of it every now and then. It was one of the high points of a life that's far behind me. But ..."his voice grew sad "... though I'm a hero among the farmers, I'm afraid I'm not loved by the Edris powder manufacturers who I put out of business by wiping out the hugl. They had hard times on my account. Some of them still haven't regained a footing in society, after all these years."

He shook his head. "It's troubled me to think of the changes in Nidor since my days at Bel-rogas, Jones."

The Earthman frowned. "It troubles you? Why, Kiv? I thought you would be a happy man."

"I'm a priest now. I'm no longer the young hothead I once was, when I confronted the Council. And I see the patterns changing, and it frightens me."

"Have you talked like this to anyone else?" Jones asked abruptly.

"No—no. I've only recently come to realize it. I've been waiting for today, for this chance to discuss it with you. It's not only the Edris powder manufacturers. Other things are changing, too. The way children act, for instance. I'm thinking about my daughter."

"Your daughter's merely a reflection of yourself, Kiv. Your thoughts, your opinions, all eventually are taken over by her. You've molded her. Perhaps the failure's yours, as a parent?"

Kiv studied his hands. Once again, Jones was the teacher, he was the blind, fumbling pupil. As it had been twenty years before, when Jones had led him, prodded him, pushed him into the knowledge that had enabled him to end the hugl menace, he was at Jones' feet.

"Is the failure mine? How could it be? I've lived by the Law and the Scripture—you taught me yourself. I've raised her with the greatest care. And yet—and yet—"

Jones stood up, chuckling. "You're the one who should be retiring, Kiv. Not me."

"What—retiring? Are you retiring?"

"Soon," said Jones casually. "The Great Light wants me, I fear. But you're the one who should go. You've turned into a terribly old man very quickly. You sit here, protesting about the behavior of the younger generation, even though you know it's foolish to protest. Your parents worried about the way you carried on, when you left the farm to come to Gelusar, and Sindi's probably going to think her children are deviating woefully from the Law. It's an inevitable pattern, bound up with growing old. But don't worry about it, Kiv. Sindi's a fine, Law-abiding youngster. She's a credit to you, Kiv. Don't ever think otherwise about her."

Kiv stared uneasily at the old Earthman. "I see these things, and yet you tell me—"

Jones rested his hands lightly on Kiv's shoulders. "Kiv peGanz, listen to me. The Edris manufacturers had to go. It was a natural evolution. You can't go around feeling guilty over it; what if you hadn't come up with your technique for killing hugl? We'd all have starved by now, not just the Edris makers. And your daughter's a good girl. Do you have any plans for her marriage yet?"

"I'm considering a high member of the Yorgen clan," Kiv said.

He felt less tense; after twenty years, Jones was still a master at the art of removing burdens from his students' shoulders.

Jones moved a thin hand through his silvery chin hair. "Have you made the formal arrangements yet?" he asked.

"Not quite. The Yorgens, after all, have a high position. It takes a great deal of negotiation. But the outlook is promising."

Jones looked out the window at the fading glow of the Great Light and nodded slowly. "It would require a great deal, of course." He said nothing for a long minute, still staring at the silver glow of the sky. After a while he said, "What does Sindi think of this marriage?"

Kiv frowned. "What does she think of it? Why, I don't know. I simply haven't asked her. Why? Does it matter?"

Turning from the window, Jones smiled. "No. Not in the least. Believe me when I say that this is probably the best decision you could have made."

"Then you do approve of my choice for Sindi's husband?"

Jones nodded. "I do. Most emphatically. I can't think of a better choice you could have made."

Kiv bowed his head. "May your forefathers bless you, Jones. May they bless you."

"Thank you, Kiv. And now, if you please, I would like to study. An old man must do many things in a short time," the Earthman said.

"You're actually retiring, then?" Kiv asked. "You weren't joking?"

"It's not something I'd joke about, Kiv. I feel that I've been called."

"We'll miss you," Kiv said. "And I think I'll miss you more than anyone else."

"Thank you," the Earthman said again. "And now—"

"Of course."

Kiv bowed politely and left Jones' study.

When he returned to the courtyard, the crowd had already deserted it. Only Yorgen peBor stood there, leaning slouchingly against one of the trees, looking as though he couldn't care less that he was in the courtyard of the great Bel-rogas School. Kiv walked over to him.

"Yorgen peBor, where is Sindi?"

"I believe she has gone to her room, Grandfather," the young man said with an air of bored politeness.

He was wrong. That was the excuse Sindi had given him, but she had headed, instead, for the biochem lab, very much pleased to rid herself of the company of Yorgen peBor Yorgen if only for a few minutes.

And she would be able to see Rahn again.

Rahn peDorvis Brajjyd was a tall, hard-muscled young man whose fine down of body hair was just a shade darker than Sindi's. He was sitting at one of the lab benches, deeply absorbed in a frayed textbook, when Sindi slid the door open and entered.

"I thought I'd find you here," she said softly. "Didn't you see the ceremony at all?"

He grinned at her. "No. Not having a father who's a local dignitary, I didn't feel compelled to attend the affair. I stayed here."

Sindi half frowned. "That's not fair, Rahn. Besides, I wouldn't have gone either if Smith hadn't caught me in the stables. He made me go."

"Too bad," Rahn said, still grinning. "But I hope you won't get into any trouble because of it."

"I won't. Smith's all right."

She was silent for a moment, thinking out what she had to say next. "Rahn," she said finally, "do you know Yorgen peBor Yorgen?"

Rahn rubbed a hand over the soft down on his cheek. "I know of him, but I don't know him personally. Why?"

"What do you mean, you know of him?"

Rahn's shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. "He has money to burn. He's known to keep company with a girl named Lia gePrannt Yorgen, but don't go repeating that around. He's got the reputation of being a fast lad with a set of pyramid-dice and is known to take a drink or two occasionally. He has a sort of group of loyal followers from the—ah—poorer classes. They like his money. He's not too bright." Suddenly Rahn stopped and scowled at her. "Why all the interest in him? He's not coming to Bel-rogas, is he?"

Sindi shook her head. "No. I just wondered what he was like, that's all. He was at the Commemoration Day ceremony, and I was introduced to him."

She didn't feel like mentioning that it had been her father who had introduced her; Rahn would know at once what that meant, and she didn't want him to know—yet.

Again Rahn shrugged. "For all I know, he's a nice enough sort of fellow—just a little wild, that's all. I must say I envy him his money, though."

The girl put her hand on his. "Rahn, you're not going to bring that up again, are you?"

Shaking his head, Rahn put his free hand over hers, holding it tight. "Sindi, when will you get it through your head that I don't blame you or your father for what happened to my family's money?"

"But your father—"

"My father does, sure, but it was his own fault. If he hadn't been so stubborn, he'd have been all right. But he said that his father and his father's father and his grandfather's father had been Edris manufacturers, and his fathers before them for hundreds of years, and by the Great Light he was going to go on manufacturing Edris powder. He just couldn't understand what had happened when your father found a better way to use it, practically wiping out the hugl so there wasn't any need for tons and tons of the stuff any more. My father got hung by his own product. But just because Father can't accept change, just because he had to blame someone else for his own short-sightedness—that doesn't mean I feel that way."

"I know," Sindi said, squeezing his hand. "But I—"

There was a sound at the door, and she jerked her hand away from his. She turned around just as Kiv entered the lab.

"Hello, Father," she said sweetly, hoping she was managing successfully to cover up her alarm.

"I wondered where you were, Sindi.'' Kiv looked at Rahn and smiled politely. "How do you do, young man."

"I ask your blessing, Grandfather,'' Rahn said, bowing his head.

Kiv gave the blessing, and Sindi said: "Father, this is Rahn peDorvis Brajjyd, my lab mate."

"I am pleased to know you, my son." Kiv's smile hadn't faded a fraction. "PeDorvis? Isn't your father Dorvis peDel?"

"Yes, Grandfather." Rahn's voice was a little stiff.

"I think I met him, years ago. Take my blessing to your father when you see him next."

"I will, Grandfather," said Rahn politely. But Sindi knew he would never do it. The blessing of Kiv peGanz Brajjyd was something that Dorvis peDel would hardly care to accept.

"You must excuse us, Rahn peDorvis," Kiv said. "My daughter and I have some things we must discuss." He made a ritual gesture. "The peace of your Ancestors be with you always."

"And may the Great Light illumine your mind as He does the world, Grandfather," Rahn returned in proper fashion.

He stood silently as father and daughter left the room.

Outside, Sindi said nothing. She walked quietly next to Kiv, wondering what he was thinking. They had covered half the long paved roadway before Kiv broke his silence.

"He seems like a pleasant young man. At least he knows the greeting rituals and uses them. So many of the younger people today tend to forget their manners.''

And that was all he had to say.

III

On the day of Jones' retirement, the students were asked to gather in the square. Word went round the rooms that a very special ceremony was to be held, and as the students filed into the square curiosity was evident on their faces.

Sindi and Rahn came straight from the laboratory, and got there late. They stood well to the rear of the clustered students, their backs pressed against the smooth granite wall of the Administration Building.

Unlike the recent Commemoration Day events, this was. to be no public demonstration. Only the students and faculty of the School were present.

The rumors of Jones' retirement had been spreading for some time, and it became apparent that this was indeed to take place when the Head Grandfather of the School, fat old Gils peKlin Hebylla, made a short, dignified speech about how the Earthmen were emissaries of the Great Light Himself, and how the Great Light found it necessary to call them back when their work was done. The kindly old man was neither pompous nor maudlin about it; it was easy to see that he meant every word. Sindi fancied she could feel an undercurrent of personal emotion in his words, as though he were contemplating the fact that he, too, was approaching the Light.

When he was through, Jones rose slowly from his seat on the marble steps of the Administration Building. The Earthman looked at the hushed crowd for several seconds before he began to speak.

"Children," he said at last, "I have been here at Bel-rogas since the first—sixty-one long years. I have tried to show you, as best I could, what it means to follow the Law and the Scripture. I hope you have, by this time, seen where strict obedience of the Law may lead—or perhaps you have yet to see it.

"I have attempted to show you the wonders of nature that the Great Light has put here for you to see and use.

"I do not know how many of you will use this knowledge, nor how wisely you will use it, but you must always remember that the Great Light Himself will always answer all questions if they are properly asked of Him. The discovery of His way is the science of asking questions. And if you ask Him and he does not answer—then you have not asked the question properly.

"Ask again, in a different way, and you may have the answer. The answer lies in the question, not in the person who asks it.

"If the wrong person asks it, he may get the right answer, but he will not be able to understand it."

"I think I see what he means," said Rahn in an undertone. "Like in chemistry—if we want to know what a rock is made of, we have to analyze it. That's the right way to ask."

"Shh!" said Sindi sharply.

"Now the time has come for me to leave you,'' Jones went on. "I must return to the sky from whence I came. My place will be taken by a man who is quite capable of carrying on the great work that we came here to do. Smith has been with us for ten years, and has many years of work before he, too, is called back to his home.

"I wish you all well, children, and may the Great Light illumine your minds as He does the world."

As Jones held out his hand in blessing, Smith stood up and put his arm around the older man's. shoulder for a moment.

"Goodbye, my friend," he said simply. "I'll see you again in fifty years."

Jones nodded, saying nothing. He allowed his arms to fall to his side, and he stood silently, straight and tall, somehow mysterious in his alien dignity.

Then, quite suddenly, an aura of blue-white radiance sprang from his body. Slowly, he rose from the steps and lifted into the air. With increasing speed, he rose higher and higher.

The crowd watched in awed silence, tilting their heads far back to watch the Earthman disappear into the haze of the eternal clouds.

Sindi was putting on her best shorts and beaded vest on the morning of the Feast of the Sixteen Clans, twenty days after the ascension of Jones, when her roommate burst into the room.

"Sindi! There's someone downstairs to see you! And is he handsome!"

Sindi fastened her belt at her waist. "Don't blither, Mera. Who is it?"

"Oh, you! Always so calm! I don't know who he is.

He just asked if Sindi geKiv Brajjyd was here, and so I told him you were. He's riding on a big, pretty deest, and he's tall, and—"

"Oh, Great Light!" Sindi swore in dismay. "I'll bet I know who it is! It's Yorgen peBor Yorgen!"

She ran out of the room and down the hall to the front of the building, where a window looked down over the courtyard before the Young Women's Quarters. Cautiously, she looked down, keeping herself well back in the shadows of the gloomy hallway.

It was Yorgen peBor, all right.

Come to think of it, Sindi thought, Mera was right. Yorgen did look quite striking, mounted on the magnificent deest and looking as if the whole world owed him homage.

I wonder what he wants? He would have to get permission to come calling here. And I'll bet he has it.

She ran back to her room and finished dressing quickly, ignoring Mera's bubbling conversation. Some minutes later she stepped out of the door of the dormitory, holding herself stiffly erect.

"Good Feast Day, Sindi geKiv,'' Yorgen said in his smooth tenor voice.

"Good Feast Day. What brings you here at this early hour, Yorgen peBor?"

"I started before the Great Light touched the sky," he said. "I have brought a letter from your father.'' He handed her the neatly folded and sealed paper.

Sindi thanked him, took the letter, and broke the seal.

"To my daughter, Sindi, on the day of the Feast of the Sixteen Clans. Since I know you'll be riding into the Holy City to attend the midday services at the Temple, I thought you would like someone to go with you. Young Yorgen peBor will deliver this letter and escort you to the Temple. I hope you will both find light in your mind and do your worship with reverence in your thoughts."

It was signed, "Your loving father, Kiv."

Sindi looked up at Yorgen and forced a smile. "I'll be most happy to attend the Clan Day services with you, Yorgen peBor," she said. In view of her father's note, there was no other possible answer.

"The honor is mine," Yorgen replied politely.

"If you'11 wait here a few minutes, I'11 get ready for the ride. My deest is in the stables, and—"

"May I get your animal for you?"

"Would you please? That's sweet of you."

"Again, a pleasure, Sindi geKiv." Yorgen tugged at the reins, turned the deest smartly, and trotted off in the direction of the School's stable.

Sindi ran back into the dormitory, took the stairway at top speed, and dashed into her room. Mera was at the end of the hall. Evidently she had watched the whole procedure.

"What's up, Sindi?"

Sindi went to her desk and wrote furiously. "I'm going to the Temple with Yorgen peBor," she said without glancing up.

"Oh? I thought you were going to the chapel with Rahn."

"This is Father's idea, Mera. He has chosen Yorgen peBor for me."

Mera frowned. "I guess it's too bad you and Rahn are both Brajjyds. Still, in-clan marriages have taken place, you know."

"Don't be ridiculous," Sindi snapped. She continued to fill the paper with neat script.

''Well,'' Mera said, "it might not be sanctioned, but I happen to know that a lot of young couples who are of the same clan just go to another city. The girl lies about her name and they 're man and wife by the time they get there. You could go to Elvisen or Vashcor and—"

"Shut up, Mera. It's impossible. I couldn't leave Bel-rogas and neither could Rahn. I'll do things the way they should be done. I don't want to be sacrilegious.''

Mera shrugged and said, "All right, do it your way. I still think it's a foolish law."

Sindi tightened her lips and said nothing. She finished what she was writing, folded it, and sealed it.

"Give this to Rahn, will you?" she asked, handing the letter to Mera.

"Sure, Sindi. Have a good time."

By the time Yorgen peBor Yorgen returned with her deest, Sindi was waiting demurely for him on the steps of the dormitory.

The five-mile ride into the Holy City of Gelusar was punctuated only by occasional small talk. It was obvious to Sindi that Yorgen peBor seemed no more anxious for the match than she was. But what could either of them do? Marriages were arranged by parents; their judgment was wiser in picking a mate than a child's could possibly be.

Gelusar was teeming with people in their holy day finery, each one walking or riding toward one of the several smaller temples in the city. Some of the more important people were going to the Great Temple in the center of Gelusar, but even that gigantic edifice could hold only a small portion of the city's population.

Naturally, as a grandson of the great Yorgen peYorgen Yorgen, young Yorgen peBor would have a reserved seat in the Temple itself. He and Sindi would not have to stand outside in the Square of Holy Light, as many thousands would have to do when the ceremonies began.

The square was, in fact, already crowded when they reached the Great Temple. They circled the Square and stabled their deests in the private stalls behind the huge building.

"If we go in the back way we can avoid the crowds,'' Yorgen peBor said. "There's a side hall that runs along the auditorium."

She followed him through the rear entrance. An acolyte stationed there to prevent unauthorized persons from entering nodded politely to Yorgen peBor and allowed them to pass. The hall was long and poorly lighted by the occasional candles that burned in sconces in the wall. Yorgen said nothing, not even holding her hand as they moved down the corridor.

Sindi wondered, for a moment, when her father would make the betrothal public. Actually, it was official now; only the ceremony was lacking.

The corridor came to an abrupt end, bringing up short against a massive door of bronzewood. Yorgen peBor twisted the lock and pushed it open. A low murmur of sound came through the opening, and Sindi could see the Temple auditorium beyond.

It was already beginning to fill with people. In the vast hush of the huge room, lit only by the gas mantles around the walls and the glowing spot at the altar, the golden glint of light against the bodies of the worshippers gave the temple an almost supernatural appearance. The people, to Sindi, seemed unreal—marionettes moving against a staged background.

It was the first time Sindi had ever been in the Great Temple on a feast day. Always before, she had gone to the Kivar Temple on the southern side of Gelusar. It was a small, almost cozy temple which made her feel as though the Great Light were actually there to protect her.

This was completely different. The huge lens in the roof of the gigantic auditorium was much bigger than any other glass lens on Nidor, and the light that came through it to strike the altar was brighter than any other spot in any temple.

What was it that the Earthman, Smith, had called the Great Light? A blue-white star. What did that mean? To Sindi, nothing. But it sounded mysterious and reverent, although without any concrete significance. And the light that streamed through the lens to be focused on the hard marble of the altar was neither blue nor white—it was a soft, golden yellow that seemed warm and friendly and powerful.

Yorgen was saying: "We'll have to move down toward the front, Sindi geKiv. Our pew is in the third row.''

She followed him down the aisle with head bowed, as was proper in the Presence of the Great Light. When they reached the row of upholstered benches that was reserved for the use of the Yorgen Yorgens, Sindi slid in and kneeled before the glowing spot of light that rested just off the center of the altar. When it reached the exact center the ceremonies would begin.

"Uh—Sindi geKiv—I'd—ah—I'd like to have you meet a friend of mine." Yorgen peBor's voice, a conversational whisper, somehow sounded strained and hoarse.

Sindi turned her head to look. The girl was sitting on the other side of Yorgen and was smiling at her in an odd sort of way.

"Sindi geKiv Brajjyd, I should like to have you meet Lia gePrannt—Yorgen," he added almost reluctantly. "Lia gePrannt, this is Sindi geKiv."

Lia's smile broadened a moment, then relaxed. "I'm glad to meet you."

"As am I," Sindi returned. The girl was evidently one of Yorgen's relatives who—

Then she realized who. What was it Rahn had said?

He's known to keep company with a girl named Lia gePrannt Yorgen.

And then, quite suddenly, Sindi understood a great many things. She knew why the girl had given her such an odd smile; she knew the reason for Yorgen peBor's hesitation; she knew the reason why Yorgen peBor was so polite and formal toward her.

She found herself liking Yorgen peBor Yorgen.

She not only liked him, she knew him. She knew how his mind worked, and why he acted the way he did.

In that flash of illumination, Sindi geKiv Brajjyd learned a great many things. About others, about herself.

She looked at the glow of the Great Light upon the altar-top and smiled to herself.

Thank you, Great Light. You have illumined my mind.

Perhaps Yorgen was a blockhead; perhaps he was shallow. But in spite of the fact that she didn't love him, she at least knew him, and that would make their life together bearable. Perhaps, Sindi thought, the old ones were wisest after all. The old ways retained some merit. Kiv had not picked a worthless husband for her.

The glowing spot of light on the altar had reached the mirrored depression in the center.

It began to get brighter and brighter.

And then the great bronze gong that hung beside the altar was struck by an acolyte behind it. It shuddered out its ringing bass note, and the services for the Feast of the Sixteen Clans began.

IV

When they rode back to the Bel-rogas School, Yorgen peBor left Sindi at the gate. He thanked her for her company, assured her that he would like to see her again, soon, and rode back toward the city.

Sindi guided her deest toward the stables and dismounted at the door. She led the animal inside and took off the saddle. The stall next to hers, she noticed, was empty; Rahn had evidently gone into the city, then. Most of the students had attended the services at the School's small chapel, rather than ride into Gelusar.

She took a heavy, rough towel from its peg on the wall and began to wipe the perspiration off the back and angular sides of the deest. She was just through with one side when her roommate Mera came running into the stable barn.

"Sindi! One of the girls told me you'd just come in. Here! It's a letter from Rahn. He left it with me. He told me to give it to you as soon as you came back."

Mera held out the folded, slightly grimy sheet of paper. Sindi dropped the towel, snatched the letter from her roommate's hand, and tore it open.

"My dearest darling Sindi,

I knew this would happen—I suppose we both knew it. But I didn't think it would be so soon. You'll have to marry Yorgen, of course; you can never marry me. But I'm afraid to stay to watch it. I couldn't bear to see you betrothed to that deestbrained playboy.

I love you, Sindi, and I'll always love you. Try to think well of me. I wish you the best happiness.

Rahn pD.B."

She stared at the letter, reading it a second time, then a third. She looked up at Mera.

"What is it?" Mera asked. "Bad News?"

"No—no," Sindi said, struggling to keep a calm appearance for her roommate's benefit. "Just a little note—about some lab work."

"Oh," Mera said in relief. "The way you looked when you read that had me worried.''

"Don't be silly. And thanks for bringing the note down here," she said, as Mera started to leave.

Sindi folded the letter, tucking it in a pocket, and picked up the towel. The deest was heavily beaded with perspiration; for a few moments she let the work of wiping the animal off drive all other thoughts from her mind.

She went about her work methodically, finished caring for the animal, and headed back to her lab room. It was, she knew, the only place where she could really be alone, now.

Once she was inside, among the familiar, almost beloved pieces of apparatus, experiments-in-progress, dirty textbooks and heaps of soiled lab clothing, she bolted the door and sat down in a chair. Rahn's chair.

She read the letter once again.

I'm afraid I can't stay to watch it, it said. That explained why Rahn's deest had been missing from the stable. Rahn had run off somewhere.

Sindi thought of Rahn, quiet, serious-minded, a little shy, always polite and respectful, and then she thought of Yorgen peBor. Yorgen, who didn't love her, and Lia gePrannt, whom Yorgen did love.

And suddenly, with perfect clarity, the thought came to her that there was just one logical thing to do: go to Rahn, wherever he might be.

But where was he? Some cautious probing around the School made it evident that none of his few close friends knew where he might have gone to. Had he gone home? No; Sindi rejected the idea. Rahn's father, Dorvis peDel, was a proud and fierce man—even more so since his heavy fall. Rahn would never dare return home as a failure, to announce that he had left the Bel-rogas School for some trifling reason. Sindi tried to picture the scene that would result when Dorvis peDel discovered that it had been because of Kiv peGanz Brajjyd's daughter that his son had left.

No; it seemed impossible that Rahn had gone home.

The next strongest possibility was that he had gone down to Gelusar. If that were so, it wouldn't be an easy matter for Sindi to find him. Gelusar was Nidor's biggest city, and it would be simple for a lovesick boy to lose himself quite efficiently in it.

But the drawback there was that Gelusar was only five miles from the School, and there was fairly steady traffic between Bel-rogas and the Holy City. Gelusar was always full of people from the School; there was a fairly good chance that, in time, Rahn would be seen and recognized by someone.

Sindi rose and petulantly flipped on a burner, and stared at the flickering flame until her eyes began to smart. Everything in the lab bore Rahn's imprint: the retort filled with some mysterious golden-green liquid standing just above their row of notebooks, the dent in the burner where Rahn had once dropped it, the untidy mementoes of his presence all over the lab.

There was one logical place where he would have gone, and as the answer occurred to Sindi it also struck her that she would have to get moving in a hurry in order to catch him in time. He would be heading for the seaport of Vashcor, Nidor's second largest city, three days' journey away on the other side of the forbidding Mountains of the Morning.

He had often talked of going to Vashcor. He had wanted to travel, to have adventure, and Vashcor was the gateway. Of course, Sindi thought—he had gone to Vashcor!

She drew a deep breath, tidied together some of the notebooks just to keep her tense hands busy, and took a few tentative paces around the lab while she decided exactly what she was going to do. Then she dashed out of the lab at top speed.

Her deest was waiting patiently at the hitching post, but the animal looked tired and not at all anxious to undergo a long journey. Glancing down at the other stalls, she selected the biggest and sturdiest animal there. It was Smith's.

Apologizing silently to the Earthman for the theft of his deest, Sindi unslipped the hitching rope and led the animal out of the stable. She leaped lightly into the saddle, which Smith had thoughtfully left in place, stowed her lunchpack in the saddlebag, and guided the deest down the winding turf road that led away from Bel-rogas.

Vashcor lay due east. The road was a good one, running up to the low-lying foothills of the Mountains of the Morning and then detouring around the great bleak mountains. No one ever went near the Mountains of the Morning. They were cold, nasty-looking peaks, bare of vegetation. The nightly rain of Nidor washed them clean of soil and left them standing, naked teeth jabbing up out of the plains.

Aside from their uninviting appearance, the Mountains were surrounded by an aura of taboo. They were dead and empty; for the Nidorians, anything dead was sacred, and hence somewhat to be feared.

But I'm going to go over those mountains, Sindi thought. They won't scare me.

It was a matter of necessity. Rahn had had several hours' head start on her, and unless she caught up with him he might easily reach Vashcor and ship out for points unknown before she could find him. If she de-toured across the mountains, she might be able to make up the head start Rahn had, since he would go the long way, around them.

That is, she might be able to make up the difference. There was no guarantee the mountains were passable.

As she left the outskirts of the School and headed down the open road to Vashcor, she muttered a brief but heartfelt prayer. The Great Light seemed particularly bright that afternoon. She took it as a good omen.

The road traveled through perfectly flat countryside for mile upon mile. Far in the distance, half-hidden by 4he cloudy haze, she could see the Mountains of the Morning. Behind them was Vashcor.

The first part of the lonely journey took Sindi through fairly populous farm territory. The roads were hardly crowded, but occasionally farmers going to market passed her, recognized her School costume, and saluted respectfully. Occasionally, yokels called things after her as she sped by.

Then as the Great Light started to dim for the evening, the character of the countryside changed, and the farms became fewer and more widely spaced. Sindi became uneasy, and had some grave doubts about the wisdom of her wild venture, especially when it grew dark and the ever-present night-time drizzle of Nidor began.

Cold, hungry, a little frightened, and, before long, soaking wet through her light garments, she nevertheless urged the deest onward. Hour after hour passed; darkness closed in about her, only the faint glimmer of the Lesser Light breaking through the shroud of clouds. Her body became numb from the constant swaying and pounding of the deest. From time to time the animal needed rest, and it was then, when motion ceased, that Sindi realized fully how tired she was.

And then morning came, and she realized she had no idea where the night had gone. There was the sudden realization that the Great Light had returned gradually to the sky, and the rain had ended, and warmth was in the air, and that was all there was to tell her that there had been passage of time.

The Mountains of the Morning—the name seemed appropriate, now—were closer than ever before. They loomed up high on the horizon, huge purplish piles of stone. Certainly, Sindi thought, they were a grim and foreboding barrier for anyone contemplating a crossing.

The road was completely deserted now. Sindi kept staring ahead, hoping wildly to get some glimpse of Rahn, but there was no one in sight.

She continued relentlessly on through that morning, pausing once to give her deest an extended rest. The unfortunate animal was near the point of collapse. Sindi let the deest stretch out in the road for about ten minutes, and then, impatient to get on, prodded the animal up.

"Let's go," she said.

The animal broke into a weary canter, its doubly-cleft hooves clattering along the road.

After perhaps two hours of solitary riding, Sindi spotted a figure coming toward her in the road. For a moment she thought it might be Rahn—returning, maybe? but as the other drew near she realized it was an ancient man, riding a bedraggled-looking old deest.

She pulled up, anxious merely for the company of another person.

"Hoy, Father!"

"Hoy," the old man replied. He was dressed in rustic costume; probably he was a venerable farmer returning from a visit to Vashcor. "Where to, youngster?"

"Vashcor, Father."

"A long journey for one so young," the old man commented.

Sindi smiled. "I'll manage, Father. Tell me, old one: have you seen anyone else riding for Vashcor this morning?''

The old man thought for a moment. "Well, no. That is—by the Light, yes, I did see one. Young fellow, heading down the road as fast as could be."

Sindi said tensely, "What did he look like?"

The farmer chuckled. "Oh, I can't remember things like that, youngster. I don't see very clearly any more, any more. But he stopped to ask if he was on the right route to Vashcor. He wanted to know what the quickest route was."

Sindi rocked impatiently back and forth on her deest.

"And what did you tell him?"

"I said for him to keep going on the road he was on, of course. This is the best road to Vashcor." The old man paused again, and a frown added new wrinkles to those already on his brow. "But then I laughed and told him if he was really in a hurry he could make a shortcut over the Mountains, and blast it if he didn't take me seriously and say he'd do it! Last I saw of him, the fool was heading for the foothills. He must be crazy; no one ever goes near those moun—"

At that Sindi uttered a little gasp, dug her heels into the deest, and went charging away, leaving the old man still standing by the roadside. "May the Great Light bless you," she called back at him.

He had taken the mountain path? Sindi frowned, realizing that her planned shortcut was now no advantage at all in the race to head Rahn off, but a necessity. She stared up at the mountains, now quite close.

The road began to sheer off, going to one side of the mountain range, which was not a very wide one. As soon as Sindi became aware she had reached the detour-point, she cut off the main road and started across the gray-green fields at a sharp angle toward the Mountains of the Morning.

After a while the vegetation died out and bare desert appeared. And then Sindi spotted something that made her heart pound: well-defined deest tracks, leading toward the mountains.

They had been made recently. They could only be Rahn's.

She followed the trail carefully, and the land began to rise as she entered the foothills. The air was perfectly still. Not even a breeze broke the silent calmness, and no sound was heard.

It was hours later before the thin sand of the foothills could no longer hold the prints of the deest she was following. Here, so far as Sindi knew, no living person had ever gone. No one had ever had reason to; the Mountains of the Morning were barren, devoid of all life except lichen and small insectoidal creatures. Nothing that needed soil could live in these mountains; soil couldn't last long when it was floated away each night by the cooling drizzle that washed the planet when the Great Light was gone.

And now there was not even sand to register Rahn's tracks. Which way would he go? The easiest way, of course, Sindi answered herself. Whichever way that was, that would be the path she must take.

The path led over barren rock then angled higher and higher toward the summits of the peaks which loomed around her, giant orags, like broken teeth sticking out of a dead skull.

The deest was beginning to give out. His breath was short, and his strength seemed scarcely sufficient to hold up the weight of his own body, much less that of the girl on his back. Finally, Sindi dismounted and began to lead the tired animal. Her high-heeled riding boots were poor equipment for climbing across the bare boulders of the mountain, but she knew it would be even worse without them.

The daylight was beginning to fade again by the time she decided to sit and rest. How had Rahn gone on this far? She didn't know, but she knew that only a driving passion could push him on this far—an inverted passion, a passion that pushed him away from her instead of pulling him toward her.

She slumped down on a nearby crag of black basaltic rock and put her head in her arms, wishing gloomily that she had had the good sense to run off with Rahn when the idea had first been suggested to her. If she had, none of this would have—

Chunk!

Sindi jerked her head up and looked around her in the fading light. What had made the noise?

The faint purr of a deest reached her ears. And then she knew.

She climbed to the top of a nearby boulder and looked around. There, only a few dozen yards away, was another deest, grazing peacefully. But there was no rider. The saddle had been removed.

Apparently Rahn, knowing he could go no further with the animal, had relieved it of its burden and set it free. And it could have taken place only a few minutes before, Sindi reasoned—else the deest would have made its way farther down the mountains, where there was grass to eat and soft sod on which to lie.

Now, the deest seemed to be merely waiting for its master to return. Rahn couldn't have left it very long ago.

Sindi took everything she had and put it into the pack on her back. Then, pulling the saddle off her deest, she slapped the animal on the rump.

"Move off, fella. Go home. Smith is going to be looking for you."

The deest trotted off. Sindi started up the rocky incline, keeping her eyes open for places where Rahn had disturbed the rockfalls, searching for his footprints in the gravel.

Something had been driving Rahn, all right. He had wanted so badly to escape, to run away to Vashcor, that he had taken this insane route over the mountains.

The route that she, just as insanely, was following.

She kept moving, trying to ignore the pain in her feet from the high heels of the riding boots she was wearing.

Upward, upward, as blisters formed on the soles of her feet. Upward.

And all the time she climbed, with each weary shove of foot against ground, she knew she was following Rahn into the place where neither of them really wanted to go—the one place where they could finally be free from the constricting network of age-old Nidorian customs and ways that bound them.

The one place where they could find peace together.

The Halls of Death.

V

The pale, colorless glow of the Lesser Light made the rocks seem like great lumps of bread dough as Sindi climbed. She moved higher, higher—

And suddenly, she realized she had heard a noise, had been hearing it for the past several minutes without paying any particular notice. She stopped climbing, to still the sound of her boots crunching against the gravel.

For a moment she could hear nothing; then the sound came again. A hum. A buzz. What was it? It was directly ahead, and it definitely was not the sound of someone climbing.

She listened for a few minutes more; reaching no answer, she resumed her climb.

Several minutes later she saw a flickering light not far ahead. Then, when she came over the edge of a little outcropping, she saw something that was so totally —alien to her that it took a long time even partially to understand it.

It was a plain, a broad, flat plain. Acres and acres of ground had been levelled and smoothed and covered with concrete-like rock. And all around the edge were colored lights, some green, some red, some yellow, some white. Close to the edge nearest her were little buildings with lights on them and inside them.

What could this mean, she wondered. Who would build anything up here?

She stood for what seemed to her like a long time, trying to make sense out of what she saw. It was not until her eyes perceived something moving that she was jerked suddenly back to reality.

A squad of men was marching out of the darkness of the craggy rocks and heading through the lighted area toward the cluster of little buildings. Sindi frowned down at them for a second and then had to stifle a little scream.

They were Earthmen! That was unmistakable. And they were holding a Nidorian, forcing him to go with them to the buildings near the edge of the great field. Sindi knew who that Nidorian had to be; there was only one other in the Mountains of the Morning.

She acted almost without thinking.

As rapidly and as silently as she could, she ran toward the cluster of buildings to which the Earthmen were guiding Rahn. They had taken him inside by the time she got there.

She didn't know which room he was in; the entrance to the structure was on the other side, and she was unable to locate any door. All she could do was look for lighted windows.

There were several on the ground floor, but the rooms revealed were occupied entirely by Earthmen. Finally, Sindi found an outcropping of rock that would permit her to get close to the one lighted room on the second floor. The window was open, and the breeze of the chill evening air fluttered the papers on the desk in the room.

There were four men in the room—three Earthmen and Rahn. Sindi peered close—and then got a shock even greater than the last. For one of the Earthmen was Jones!

Jones—who had gone to the Great Light—was here!

He was saying, "I'm sorry you came here, Rahn peDorvis." Jones looked old and very tired. "It was never intended that any Nidorian should find this base." His jutting little beard waggled as he spoke, but his voice was as kindly as ever.

Rahn was staring curiously at the Earthman. When he spoke, his voice was tight and strange. "You're dead, Jones. Am I dead too?"

Jones shook his head slowly. "I am not dead, my son. I never said I was going to die. I said I was going back to the sky. And I am. But when I go, I will be alive. As alive as I am now. As alive as you are."

Sindi stared in amazement. It seemed to her that Jones was trying hard to convince Rahn that his words were true and honest.

Rahn's hands gripped the arm-rests of his chair. "But what does it all mean? I mean—well, that sounds silly, but—well—"

Jones held up one hand, palm outward. "I know how you feel, Rahn peDorvis. And I'll explain everything to you, believe me. You're capable of understanding most of it, and I think you deserve a full explanation. Do you want some water?"

Rahn had been licking his lips, but it was obviously fear and not thirst that motivated the action .Still, he did not appear to be overly afraid of the Earthmen. Sindi clenched her fists and prayed silently.

"Yes, Jones," Rahn said. "Please. Some water."

One of the other Earthmen poured a glass of water for him. Jones went on talking.

"I won't ask you how you came up here, nor why. That isn't important. What you want to know is why we are here and why we are doing whatever we're doing.

"The answer is very simple. We have come, as we told you, to help Nidor. Look—let me show you something."

He pressed a button on the desk near him. Behind him, a screen lit up. It depicted a scene in full color: a very odd-looking Earthman was dancing gracefully in miniature across the screen.

"Is that an Earthman?"

"Earthwoman," Jones corrected.

Yes, Sindi thought, gasping. It was an Earthwoman! Her head hair was long and golden and reached nearly to her waist. It swirled around her as she danced.

"This is an entertainment screen," Jones explained. "With this, we can see to any point within range. We can talk with each other and see each other."

He pressed another button. The Earthgirl in the screen vanished.

"As of now,'' Jones went on, "the average Nidorian must work very hard—many hours a day—to stay alive. We of Earth have machines that will relieve Nidor of this back-breaking work. We have machines that will cook food, plow the ground, build buildings, or solve complex mathematical formulas.

"We are trying to give these things to Nidor,'' Jones said. "The Great Light has brought us to you to guide you onward. But it is not yet time. You must become acclimated. You'll have to get used to the idea of leisure and a better life. You'll have to understand what it means to go to the stars before you can go there."

"Stars?" Rahn asked.

"You'll find out about them too," the Earthman said. "We intend to help you reach space; to see the Great Light Himself, as we do—but we cannot help you there yet. The people of Nidor have too much to learn yet, and it is up to us to teach you.

"That's why we have to be careful. If you were given full knowledge now, your culture would come smashing down around your ears like a house of bricks built without mortar. And we don't want to wreck your culture that way. We want you to be happy with these things, not miserable with them."

Rahn nodded, though it was obvious to the watching Sindi that he did not completely understand. Jones signalled suddenly to the other three men in the room. As they grouped around Rahn, Jones said: "I'm afraid we can't let you remember these things, now that we've told you. We'll have to blank out a part of your memory. We'll have to remove all knowledge of this base.''

"But—"

"Believe me, Rahn, it's the best thing for Nidor." Rahn nodded resignedly. "If you say so, Jones. Will it hurt?"

Jones smiled, shaking his head. "Not at all. But tell me, now: how did you get up here?"

Rahn told how he had ridden his deest high into the mountains and then had gone on on foot. Sindi listened to him begin to explain why he had ridden out of Bel-rogas, but Jones cut it short.

"You call these mountains, but you haven't seen the really big mountains. The rain here, falling every night, keeps these mountains bare, and wears them low. Rahn, my son, you may not believe this, but I have seen mountains seven and eight miles high. The Mountains of the the Morning are less than half a mile at their highest peaks."

Jones frowned then, and thought a moment. Finally he said: "It's time now. We'll remove your memories of the past few hours. The machine is in the next room."

Sindi watched as Rahn, obviously reluctant, rose and nervously followed Jones and the other Earthmen into the room adjoining. Sindi craned her neck to see into the room, failed, and edged around the building, looking for a window that would give her a clear view into the inner room. There was none.

What seemed like ages passed while she waited for some sign from within. Then, without warning, the door of the building slid open and the Earthmen appeared, bearing the unconscious body of Rahn.

Sindi shrank back against the wall, not wanting to be seen. She didn't know what it was the Earthmen had done to Rahn, but she was not at all in favor of having it done to herself as well.

To her amazement she saw the Earthmen rise into the air, carrying Rahn, and drifting down the cliff and out of sight—and there was no blue-white aura!

Sindi watched, astonished. All was silent, except for the constant hum and buzz of the base generators.

A few moments later the Earthmen reappeared, without Rahn. They floated gently up the side of the hill, entered their building, and vanished. The door closed behind them. Sindi edged out across the clearing and started the slow descent. As she lowered herself over the edge, she caught sight of Rahn, sitting at the base of the cliff. His deest was nuzzling nearby.

So they had removed his memories. And, effectively, they had silenced Sindi as well, whether they knew it or not. For who would back up her story? Not Rahn, certainly. Any tales she brought back would be discounted as mere wild imaginings.

But, more important, she had no desire to tell anyone of what she had overheard of the Earthmen's secret activities. What was it they had said—that Nidor was not yet ready? They were wise, and probably were right; Sindi did not want to say or do anything that might hurt the Earthmen's plans.

They held out the promise of a bright future. They beckoned to Nidor, keeping in reserve for them the wonders they had shown to Rahn. Someday, these things would belong to Nidor. If not to Sindi, then to her children. She would wait.

It was her duty to say nothing. The Earthmen were agents of the Great Light, and the Great Light would lead them to the promised land in his own good time.

In his own good time. It was promised. "Those beloved of the Great Light shall hold tomorrow in their hands." It was there, in the Eighteenth Section of the Scripture.

Rahn was dazed and bewildered when Sindi found him at the base of the mountain. He looked up in amazement as she appeared.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. Then he reconsidered. "On second thought—what am I doing here?"

"What happened, Rahn?" she asked quietly.

"I—I don't know. I left my deest here. I intended to climb on up—but—" He shook his head. "I don't know."

"Silly," she said smiling, "you fell. You hit your head on a rock and it knocked the sense out of you.'' Rahn blinked, then grinned. "I suppose—did you see me?"

"No. But I've been following your tracks in the gravel and sand for days.''

Rahn rubbed his head. "My head hurts, and I feel groggy. I'll never—" He was looking toward the east, and he saw the first glimmerings of the Great Light rising above the horizon. "The Light! How long have I been—"

"You've been wandering around for hours," Sindi improvised swiftly. "I've found your deest. Mine got away."

Rahn put his hands to his temples. "Let's go. Let's go home. My—my head hurts." Sindi nodded silently. Yes, she thought, it hurts. I'll bet it hurts.

Grandfather Kiv peGanz Brajjyd paced back and forth in the outer office of Smith, the Earthman. Seated on a heavy chair in one corner of the room was the well-padded frame of old Grandfather Gils peKlin Hebylla, his hands folded comfortably across his paunch.

"Calm yourself, Grandfather Kiv," he said. "The children are on their way back. The telegraph message from Gwilis Village said that they passed that way only three hours ago."

Kiv ceased pacing and clasped his hands anxiously together. "I know they're safe! I'm not worried about that. But what about the betrothal? It's gone haywire from both directions. What a scandal! What should I do?"

The old man shrugged. "Why worry? Young Yorgen peBor has solved the problem for you. If he can get a member of his own Clan — ah — in an — ah — interesting way and then talk old Yorgen peYorgen Yorgen into sanctioning their marriage, then you should have nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about?" Kiv exploded. "Why, this is terrible! My daughter runs off with a member of her own Clan, and then the man she's going to be betrothed to finds that he is forced to marry a member of his Clan. Forced! Grandfather, do you realize that twenty years ago they would have been stoned to death? It's—it's terrible!"

"You're repeating yourself, my son," said Grandfather Gils quietly. "Remember, things change. Times are different today. Our society isn't what it was twenty years ago. We must remember that, you and I."

Before Kiv could make reply, the door to the inner office opened, and Smith, the Earthman, said, "You wanted to talk to me, Grandfather Kiv?"

Kiv nodded. "Yes, Smith. If I might."

"Come in."

It was not Smith whom Kiv really wanted to see: it was old Jones he wanted, actually needed. But Jones had gone to the Great Light. Kiv would have to depend on the younger man.

He said, "I understand you'll have to expel my daughter from the School. I know that's proper, and I don't oppose it. But I want your advice on one matter. Should I permit her marriage to this Rahn peDorvis—a member of our own Clan?"

Kiv shuddered. All his plans now were destroyed; Yorgen was lost to him, and he was faced with the possibility, of an outrageous match between his daughter and the son of a penniless Edris-manufacturer.

Smith looked up from behind the massive desk and ran the tips of his fingers over his beard. "You're an alumnus of Bel-rogas, right?"

Kiv nodded.

Smith smiled quietly. "I fear you haven't taken your teachings to heart, then." "What do you mean? I—"

"I don't mean to criticize your knowledge. But you've become too emotionally involved in this thing. Your thinking's clouded. Tell me: how do you interpret the Law as regards in-clan marriage?"

After a moment's thought Kiv said, "Well, there's nothing specific, but—"

"Actually. There is nothing specific. In-clan marriage is governed by custom. And what governs custom?"

"The practices of our Ancestors," said Kiv. "Ah, yes. But who determines when customs should change?"

"Our Elders," Kiv replied. He felt as if this were some sort of elementary catechism.

"And who is Yorgen peYorgen Yorgen?"

Kiv shook his head stubbornly. "I can see what you're driving at, Smith. But it won't wash. Elder Grandfather Yorgen pe Yorgen permitted the marriage of young Yorgen peBor because he had been intimate with Lia gePrannt. It was the least unpleasant way of covering up an unpleasant situation. But no such thing has happened in the case of my daughter and Rahn peDorvis."

Smith folded his hands on the desk and closed his eyes. "Can you be sure?" he asked. "And if you can, can the rest of society be sure? It's not what you may think that matters—it's what society thinks. Is there, after all, any proof of Lia gePrannt's condition? Didn't the Elder Grandfather have to take that on faith?"

Smith jabbed a forefinger in Kiv's direction: "There's your precedent, Kiv. Faith. It doesn't matter which way it may go; you have certain decisions you must make.

"Legally, your daughter can marry Rahn peDorvis, now that an Elder has sanctioned such marriages. Such marriages are now part of the accepted body of tradition. And isn't it your duty to your daughter to remove any stain from her name by announcing her betrothal?''

Suddenly, Kiv felt terribly small, and very confused. He fought with himself for a moment. He tried to picture how the Elder Grandfathers had felt, that day when a younger Kiv dynamically showed them how to wipe out the hugl threat. They must have been as confused and as puzzled, Kiv thought, as I am now.

Again a pattern was changing. And there was no help for it.

"I see," Kiv said quietly. "I understand, and I accept what you've told me. I thank you for your advice."

Smith nodded, smiling. "I'm at your service any time, Kiv peGanz. And we'll be expecting your daughter and her husband back here at Bel-rogas as soon as they 're through getting to know each other. They 're the kind of people we want here."

Kiv nodded, not daring to think any more. He gave the Earthman his blessing and walked out the door, uncertain of his attitude toward this new thing that had happened to Nidor, but still managing to keep his head high.