World's End

Page 73

"The Fellowship of the Divine Aurant has a cathedral in Foursgate," I said. "I thought it was a well-respected order."

"It is." Ang nodded. He reached absently to touch the religious medal he wore. The natives were picking over his stones and pieces, putting ones they fancied into their bags and pouches. And in return, things from their hoards were appearing on the ground beside his sack.

"The Fellowship does a lot of missionary work...." Ang said. Spadrin laughed abruptly. Ang glared at him.

The woman was studying us from beyond the pile of trade goods. "Are you with the Fellowship?" I called, not really ready to believe that their missionaries were forced to endure such extremes of deprivation.

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JOAND. VINGE

Her eyes brightened, and she came toward us. "Are

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you true believers?"

Spadrin laughed again, sourly, and Ang shrugged.

I nodded, not wanting to get involved in a discussion about it. "Are you all right out here?"

"Of course!" She looked at me as if I'd asked something absurd. "I've come to guide these poor unfortunates into the light of true knowledge, out of the darkness of their wretched solitude."

I kept my face expressionless, wondering why religious fanatics always sounded so florid, and so much alike. I noticed that her feet shuffled constantly in the dirt. As I watched, she picked up a stone with her bare toes and put it into her hand. She glanced at it, tossed it away, began her restless shuffling again. My hands tightened over my equipment belt. "How long have you been out here . . . uh, doing missionary work?"

"Oh, many years, many years of your time--" She waved a hand as if she were sweeping time aside. "The

Aurant's work is never done. It is a constant struggle to keep these poor unfortunates from backsliding into their former degraded ways. They've come so far along the

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road to understanding!" Another wave of her hand.

I looked past her at the cloud ears, their frantic jostle for position beginning to ease as they Page 74

finished picking over Ang's junk. I scratched my shoulder, wondering bleakly what they must have been like before. She turned with me to watch them, and then she drifted away toward the pile. She kneeled down among them and began to pick over their leavings: choosing, discarding, replacing.

"She's a fucking shufflebrain," Spadrin muttered. But his eyes stayed on her.

Ang folded his arms, like a man afraid of contamination.

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WORLD S END

"If she's been with them for years, why haven't you ever seen her before?" I asked.

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Ang rubbed at his beard. "Who the hell knows?

Maybe she just thinks it's been years. Or maybe these aren't the same natives. They all look alike to me. They wander all over World's End. Funny thing, there aren't supposed to be that many, but I see them all the time."

"Are these any better off than the rest?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Better off?" He shook his head. "No."

I grimaced. The cloud ears were fading into the mist, as abruptly as they'd appeared. The woman got to her feet, putting a last bright flake of glass into the pouch hanging from her neck. She looked at us intently, and said, "What you seek does not exist; it is all an illusion."

For a moment I felt a chill, thinking that somehow she knew our very thoughts. "Only the soul can perceive the true nature of time. Ask the Aurant to guide you to knowledge."

My neck muscles loosened as I realized she was only preaching nonsense again.

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But Spadrin followed her as she began to shuffle away.

He said, unexpectedly, "I want to hear more about the Aurant."

I watched them go, uneasily, knowing that Spadrin was capable of anything but finding religion. I started after them--and stumbled over Ang, who had crouched down to collect his offerings, completely oblivious to everything else.

He swore, straightening up, with his fists full of the natives' leavings. "Watch where you're going, for the love of the Aurant!" The oath hung self-consciously between us.