earth2.2

             "In spite of my ability to isolate mentation from external sensory input, the cries of fear and the dying sounds made by the children in the arena intruded and affected the quality of my thinking. They are like terrified puppies: normally playful, harmless, innocent, affectionate, and with the unconscious ability to attract the affection of others. It must be a hitherto unsuspected weakness in me, a scientist who should remain emotionally aloof to any problem, but I feel that I will not be able to continue thinking constructively until something has been done, no matter how small that thing may be, to reduce the number of unnecessary deaths among such innocent beings ..." CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Ma'el Report. Day 112,586. local calendar date 309 AD ...             The return to Rome three Earth centuries after my previous visit has proved to be both a comfort and a disappointment. The violence and excesses are reduced in volume and their practice has become less overt, but the subsequent events including the death of Nero, last of the once proud family of Caesar to hold the position of Emperor, did not come about exactly as I had foreseen. There can be little doubt that my precognitive faculty has become untrustworthy and, considering my complete misreading of the outcome of the sea raid off Finisterre among other incidents, the possibility exists that I may be regressing toward the avatus state and losing it entirely. I dread being like these creatures around me who can see ahead only in the dimensions of space but not through time.             "In an effort to discover the reason for this, I have subjected my entire sensorium and memory network to a full empathic inventory and feel sure that I have uncovered the problem. Regrettably the solution, if adopted, will destroy the objective worth of this investigation, and there is a strong probability that it could bring about the premature termination of my own life as well as those of my servants, who are becoming much more to me than two subjects for study out of this worlds' many billions.             "The lives of Sinead and Declan are short enough as they are ..." -             Talking incessantly in a respectful near-whisper, and with his enormous body bent almost double, Klum'bgaa led the way through a seemingly endless system of low-ceilinged tunnels. He was being, closely followed in silence by Ma'el, with Sinead and Declan, who were each weighed down with a large bundle of torches, bringing up the rear. In spite of its softness the Nubian's voice came back clearly to Declan.             They passed the last resting places of countless martyrs. The majority of them were narrow, horizontal niches in the rock walls containing the dusty, cloth-wrapped bones of their nameless occupants while a few were beautifully and elaborately decorated. Klum'bgaa said very little about them because, he insisted, there were too many here who were now wearing martyrs' crowns in Heaven for a few to be given preferment. Instead he kept trying to discover, in a respectful and roundabout fashion that the diplomat spy Brian would have admired, why a foreigner was wanting so badly to visit this hallowed ground. When they paused briefly to rekindle a fresh torch from the dying flame of an old one, Ma'el answered him.             "I am interested in the beliefs of others," he said, "and especially those who fear the pains of dying, as all of you do, but not death itself because they believe it to be but a curtain through which they will pass to a better life. I am not Christian and believe nothing. But I am interested in hearing the reason why so many of you believe in such a strange and illogical thing. Can you explain the thinking and proofs on which it is based?"             Klum'bgaa shook his head. "My master can introduce you to men more learned than I who will explain or debate these matters with you. He might even arrange an audience with Constantine, who is a firm and just man who has a mind, my master says, that has no closed doors. It is expected, or perhaps it is only a hope, that he will become the first Christian Emperor. But I myself can tell you only of stories and sacred writings that have been handed down to us for three centuries, and others that come from even further in the past. But I have no proof of their truth, only a strong belief that they are true.             "But three centuries ago," he went on, "there was only one Christian and many who became merely interested. Now there are many Christians. Perhaps in time you will become one of them."             In the light of the newly lit torch Ma'el's expression was as unreadable as ever. He said, "As a foreteller of the future I cannot see such an extraordinary event ever taking place where one of ray people is concerned. This part of the tunnel is familiar to me. Please turn into the opening on the right."             "Please reconsider, Master," said Klum'bgaa in a worried voice. 'That is a steeply descending tunnel which has not been used in living memory and perhaps for centuries. It has sustained many rock falls, there are noxious odors and the water seepage is ..."             "There is no danger," Ma'el broke in gently, making a complicated, fluid gesture with one hand. "The noxious vapors are gone and the sound of dripping water is silent. You may pass the torch to Declan and await our return while we investigate ..."             "I am not afraid!" the Nubian broke in. "At least not for myself. I was charged to guide you in safety, but if you insist on taking risks then I must take them also."             Ma'el inclined his head and a moment later they were following Klum'bgaa into the descending tunnel.             Declan had never been happy in confined spaces and the time that followed was a waking nightmare for him. Not only was he choked and blinded by the smoke from the torch, the tunnel floor was covered by fallen rock so deep in places that they were forced to scramble over it on hands and knees. The smoke could not disguise the stale smell of the air around them and the torch flame was reflected in glistening red patches of wetness from the uneven ceiling. He thought of turning back, but the second thought of what Sinead, who was less than two paces ahead of him, would say about that made him go on.             She was climbing over a loose pile of rocks and had put up a hand to the ceiling to steady herself when she made a sudden, surprised sound.             "What's wrong?" said Declan. "Did you cut yourself?"             "No," she replied in a perplexed voice. "This area of rock above me. It's shining and looks wet but it is completely dry to the touch. The whole ceiling ahead seems to be the same. Feel it for yourself as you move past."             Declan did so and found that the surface was dry, hard, smooth and with no flaking or traces of rock dust around it. Suddenly a childhood memory, one of the few pleasant ones, came back to him.             "I remember being shown a very small rock like this," he said excitedly, "by a visitor to my father. He told me it was a piece of melted stone from a volcano. But there are no volcanoes under Rome ..."             He broke off because suddenly the tunnel had opened into a chamber that was just high enough for them to stand upright and so large that the torchlight did not reach to its farther walls. The floor was clear of rubble and the ceiling reflected back the torchlight as if from the black ripples on a pool that had been frozen into immobility. The quiet voice of Ma'el seemed to fill the chamber.             "Stay together and move around the walls until you have located all of the torch supports," he said. "Sinead, Declan, place one of the spare torches in position after Klum'bgaa lights them. Look around for signs of cracking or subsidence in the ceiling or walls of the main chamber and those opening off it, and if you find any report them to me at once."             With torches burning at intervals around its walls and reflecting bright, uneven highlights from the rippled ceiling, the size of the chamber became clearly apparent as did the fact that there was no supporting structure other than at its bordering walls. No wonder, Declan thought, Ma'el wanted them to look for evidence of a ceiling collapse.             There were a few long and very low tables in the middle of the room with even lower stools grouped around them, and small platters and cups crudely fashioned from clay and wooden utensils to the same diminutive scale were scattered across the top surfaces. Some of them still contained scraps of food that had been rendered rock hard by the passage of time. Scattered across the tables and on the floor around them were small blocks of wood in the shapes of cubes, triangles, rectangles, and long pegs, with a few pieces that had been roughly carved into human shape. When Sinead lifted one of them, a piece of cloth encircling its waist fell away in scraps of dusty fiber.             "Master, I see no signs of rock falls here," she said, waving her free hand around her. "But this furniture: a few pieces are adult-sized, and all these small tables and stools and the childrens' playthings scattered about. What kind of catacomb was this?"             Before Ma'el could answer her, a low, moaning cry came from one of the side chambers. Quickly they followed the sound to its source. The voice was barely recognisable as that of Klum'bgaa. He was standing before a wall painting that was partially hidden by his body, but as soon as they entered he dropped to his knees before Ma'el.             "Master, Lord," he said, bowing his head almost to the ground, "or are you an angel? Should I have recognized you? I am but a sinner and unworthy of a visitation from on high, but you have only to command me and I shall..."             "Please stand before me, Klum'bgaa," Ma'el broke in gently, "and do not distress yourself. I am not an angel and I am certainly not your Lord, nor are you mine to command."             The Nubian climbed to his feet, doubt showing on every line of his dark face as he turned and moved his torch closer to light the picture that covered most of the wall behind him. Faded with age because it had been executed in charcoal and a few colored pigments, it showed upward of thirty very young children standing, sitting, or playing around a tall figure in a dark cloak, the cowl of which had fallen backward to reveal a shining, hairless head and a cast of features that were unmistakable. Sketched faintly in the background were a few adult women who appeared to be caring for the children. The artist had given the tall man a halo.             "There are stories told of secret places like this," said Klum'bgaa, looking as if he wanted to go down on his knees again, "that date back to Nero's persecution of the Christians. Few remember the stories that were passed down to us, and nowadays fewer believe them, of a place cut out of the living rock by an angel sent by God. It was a sanctuary for little children whose parents were martyred in the arena. They were hidden here until they could be moved to foster homes in the city or country. But that..." he pointed unsteadily with the torch at the tall, cloaked figure, "... Master, that is you"             They were all staring silently at Ma'el and waiting for a reply that did not come. Declan began a shiver that turned into an irritated shake of his shoulders, and spoke quickly so that he would not have time to think.             "It is not him!" he said harshly to the Nubian. "Think, man, and stop trying to frighten us. The event shown in the picture happened three centuries ago. Ma'el is frail and bald and ancient in years, but he cannot possibly be as old as that. We are seeing a person skilled in the magical arts as is our master, one of his countrymen, no doubt, who was ..."             "Who was as kind and gentle as our master himself is," Sinead joined in. "Well do I know of his aversion to needless suffering and death, particularly where a helpless and deeply troubled near-child like myself was concerned. It may well be that his people are also magicians and as kindly as he, but he is not your God."             Glad of her support for reasons that he did not himself understand, Declan gave Sinead a grateful look and returned his attention to the old man. But Ma'el merely looked back at them for a moment, inclined his head and, as was his way when he did not wish to answer questions, ignored the subject.             "This chamber remains structurally intact," he said, "and may be used for my present purpose. If you are willing, friend Klum'bgaa, there is an important task that you may be able to do for me. You will have to talk widely but with discretion among all those who know and trust you. I have an urgent need for young women to be enticed into coming here. Many young women."             The Nubian looked as surprised as Declan was feeling, but it was clear that the other was still not sure who or what Ma'el was and he might be thinking that his faith was being tested.             "It will be done, master," he replied without hesitation, "but how many young women and how much time can you give me?"             "I can give you five, perhaps six weeks," Ma'el replied, "before I have to leave Rome. In the beginning I realize that it will be difficult, perhaps personally embarrassing for you, to convince the early ones to come. But with your perseverance, more and more of them will come until this place will be filled to capacity, after which there will be a gradual diminishing of numbers before my departure. Without telling them what it is, you must interest them in what I am doing while not making extravagant claims about me or what you think I will be doing for them. I am not starting a new religion, nor will I try to change or influence any beliefs they may already hold.             "The females should be young, married, or of marriageable age," he went on, "and include as many non-Italian races as possible. I want representatives from all of the European races, those from as far south as Nubia and, if any are presently visiting the city, young women from the Orient.             "Assure them that they need not fear for the welfare of their bodies or their souls," he continued. "They will not have to do anything but listen to me and perform simple, mental exercises while I perform a laying-on of hands. All they will be asked to do is to accept a gift from me which they and a few of their children, and a few of their childrens' children to the end of time, may be able to use to avoid future harm."             Ma'el lowered his eyes to look at the floor, and for a long moment the silence was so complete that the sputtering of their torches seemed loud. Then he raised them again to look directly at Sinead.             'This gift," he said quietly, "is also for you." CHAPTER NINETEEN Ma'el Report. Day 112,644 ...             The project has had a measure of success but is a personal disappointment to me because of the continued lack of effect where the female Sinead is concerned. It is possible that there is a genetic defect, or that the emotional and physical trauma suffered in her early years has inhibited or destroyed the latent faculty she carries. I shall in future reduce the frequency of the stimulation lest overexposure cause long-term damage to her mind.             "My work took longer than anticipated because the initial attendances were small, and by the time the numbers reached capacity, the meetings were stopped without violence and I was placed, at Brian's request and with the agreement of the magistrate himself, under house arrest in the home of Marcus Grappilius Medina pending interrogation by the Emperor ..." -             Their sandaled feet sounded loudly on the marble floor as a Nubian servant, decked out even more richly than Klum'bgaa had been and with a haughty cast of countenance that suggested that they rather than he were the slaves, conducted them into the audience chamber. It was not overly large but beautifully proportioned and rendered bright and spacious by arches and pillars in marble that was almost white. Occupying the spaces between the pillars on three sides of the chamber were many fine, life-sized sculptures while the opposite wall was hidden by purple and gold drapes that set off the dais that contained the throne. Six guards, three on each side, were ranged beside and slightly behind it. Their helmets and armor, which were of polished bronze rather than leather, shone brightly as did the blades of their short swords and the grounded spears revealed by the white cloaks that were thrown back from their shoulders. They, too, stood absolutely still, but unlike the statuary they would have come violently to life at the first sign of danger to their Emperor.             The man seated on the cushioned, marble throne wore a simple white toga with a cloak of imperial purple thrown around his narrow shoulders and falling to and partly covering his thin, aging legs. A small crown of laurels, looking as if it had been placed there without thought and then forgotten, encircled his graying head. His features were stern and showed the impatience of one who was too old to waste time on unimportant matters and who had the authority not to suffer fools gladly. The eyes that looked out at them were old and wise and the mouth below the thin, hooked nose bore deep lines of asceticism, or perhaps they were the sign of one who suffered from a troublesome digestion.             He did not look like the most powerful man in the known world, Declan thought, but it was said that out of all the emperors who had preceded him, Constantine was the one who had earned and truly deserved the title Great.             "Do not grovel or flatter or lie to me," said the great man, with a tired gesture of one hand. "As the Emperor I know or am quickly told everything that is happening in my city whether it is good, bad, scandalous, seditious, or merely interesting. Your recent activities I find curious. As you must already have learned, I am liberal in the matter of personal beliefs, but some of the new faiths that are springing up try my patience and credulity. The minds of my citizens are free if not, for the most part, particularly gifted with intelligence, and I will not allow the gullible among them to be exploited by a religious charlatan. Ma'el, who are you, and why are you starting a new religion when the people already have a surfeit of them to choose from? Speak."             Ma'el did not abase himself but he did give a very small bow, a gesture of respect that Declan had never seen him accord anyone in the past. Sinead and Declan gave deeper bows, and the physical deference shown by Brian was deep indeed. He spoke quickly before Ma'el could reply.             "Great Imperator," he said, "I can vouch for this man's good conduct while in the city. He is a learned traveler and seeker of knowledge who, some say, is a magician but not a charlatan. On the voyage here I have had direct experience of his powers. But he has been at all times gentle and fair in his dealings and does not deserve to be ..."             "Your name is not Ma'el," said Constantine in a quiet voice that nevertheless sent a shiver along Declan's spine. Without taking his eyes off Ma'el, the Emperor went on, "I have no time to watch trickery, no matter how well it is performed, nor have I a need for character references because this is simply an interrogation and a search for truth. If or when it becomes a trial then I, as the First Magistrate of the City and the Empire, will decide on what this man deserves. Well, magician, waste not my time. If you are able to speak for yourself you have my permission to do so."             "My thanks, Imperator," said Ma'el promptly, and went on, "I am a Taelon, one of a race that dwells in a strange land far beyond the borders of your empire, and a scholar who is anxious to travel, to learn, and occasionally to teach. Our people have great knowledge and many talents, one of which I was trying to impart to some of the young women of your city. My teaching does not place their bodies or their souls in jeopardy, nor does it influence their present beliefs in their different gods. I am not a god, the messenger of a god or even a prophet. At present I believe in no deity because I have learned of so many of them that I am confused and unable to make a choice."             "In that you are not alone," said the Emperor dryly. "But in this nonreligion that you teach, are your students invited to contribute, voluntarily of course, to cover the cost of providing tapers, candles, food, wine, and such to maintain an agreeable level of worldly comfort for their teacher?"             Ma'el's reply was quiet, deferential and the words well-chosen as befitted one who was telling the most powerful man in the world that he was wrong.             "Imperator," he said, "no collections are taken up. The young women who come to me are required to bring nothing with them but their minds. If any of them should try to make such a contribution, they are thanked and instructed to give or spend their coins elsewhere. I have no need of wealth or property beyond that which I already possess, and feel no desire to complicate my life by making additions to it."             "If what you say is true," said the other, a skeptical edge in his tone, "then you are indeed a wealthy and contented man. But what exactly do you teach, and why is it taught only to young women?"             Ma'el did not answer at once and the Emperor said impatiently, "Come, come, learned magician. Do not waste my time on verbal invention. Be truthful or at least let your lies be consistent with the truth I already know, because certain young and nubile slaves of my household attended your meetings and reported the proceedings back to me. It surprised me when they said that you taught without asking anything for yourself, not even the payment in carnal pleasure that a young woman can give to an old and loveless man. Speak without delay."             "My apologies, Imperator," said Ma'el. "I paused but to order my thoughts and fit the right words to them ..."             As he listened, Declan was reminded of the time the old man had explained the workings of his magic chart to Captain Nolan when he had been warning him of the impending storm. Then his words had been strange, precise but confusing. Constantine was an intelligent man, but it would not be wise for Ma'el to risk confusing him to the point where he might feel stupid in front of strangers. An angry Emperor and judge was not what they needed just now. Fervently he hoped that the old man would think about their situation and use words that were simple and reassuring rather than precise and confusing.             Sinead had refused to tell him anything about those meetings, either out of sheer perversity or because there was nothing to tell, and he and Klum'bgaa had been unable to see or hear anything because they had been standing guard at the mouth of the access tunnel to ensure that it was only females of the specified ages who gained entry. He already knew how the deep underground chamber looked when it was empty, but now Ma'el's clear, simple words were painting bright pictures in his mind of what had been happening there.             He saw the big chamber lit by a hundred long candles each of which was being held in the joined hands of young, bareheaded women dressed in white robes. They had not been required to wear this form of dress, Ma'el said, but all of them had elected to do so because they sensed the importance of the occasion and wanted to be fittingly attired. Each candle was being held so that its flame was at eye level to the bearer, who stared at it without word or movement. The only sound was the soft, clear and continuous voice of Ma'el as he moved among them to stand briefly behind each one in turn while he placed his hands lightly on the top of every head.             "... The laying on of hands and the focusing of attention on the candle flames," Ma'el was saying, "have no religious significance. They are simply a means of concentrating the recipient's mind on what I am saying to them, for it is they who must do the real work. They use my words to travel and explore the inner paths of their own minds so that they can find and, of more importance, recognize a gift that is already in the possession of all women. Alas, many of their minds will not be responsive enough to be able to find, recognize, or use this gift that is already theirs ..."             "Magician," the Emperor broke in impatiently, "your words are clear but their meaning is not. You must now make the meaning of your words clear to me. Describe this gift, how is it used, and why it is that only women possess it?"             Please, Ma 'el, Declan pleaded silently, no living charts, no weather systems and no geostationary orbits, whatever they are. Keep it simple. But when the old man resumed it was as if he had overheard the unspoken thoughts.             "Imperator," Ma'el replied, "the last part of your question is the most important and bears on the rest, so with your leave I shall answer it first.             "Women are your childbearers," he went on, "and on them depends the future of mankind. Men play an important part also, by combining and passing on the inheritance of health, strength, and beauty that they receive from both their male and female parents. But unlike the man, it is the woman who has a direct connection through her own body and those of her mother and her mother's mother before her into the distant past. The connection that exists between this succession of females' bodies also extends into the far future.             "If I have succeeded in awakening it, which is by no means certain, the ability will make it possible for these women to see into the futures of their female descendants and to view the important events that will affect their lives."             Constantine looked as if he wanted to speak but could not find the words, and his features were beginning to darken with anger.             Ma'el went on quickly, "In the past that is distant beyond the memory of memories or the writings of our earliest ancestors, when the world was young and savage beasts ruled the earth, the ability would have been used to warn the fighting men of dangers that would threaten the unborn young and the future of their tribe. But in these times of civilization and culture and the rule of law, there is less danger and the ability has fallen into disuse and been lost.             "But occasionally, when dire events impend, the ability is awakened and future events are seen, perhaps imperfectly, in the form of visions or dreams. An instance could have been the warning dream of Calpurnia before the assassination of Julius Caesar, her husband, which caused a great upheaval in the Empire. Another might have been the..."             "Enough," said Constantine, an angry edge in his voice, "of your metaphysical babblings. It might be amusing to debate this strange theory with you if matters of state left me time for amusement. Your idea is ridiculous. You are saying that men, who in the past have carved empires out of the wilderness and raised great cities and temples that are eternal works of art, live only because of their womenfolk and are blind to their future. Magician, this is demonstrable nonsense."             "With respect, Imperator," said Ma'el gently, "your men are the builders and defenders and fathers of their people, but the women are the lifegivers and preservers. I wish to help them to warn and preserve your people from the many grave dangers that are to come."             The Emperor was silent for a long moment while Declan joined Sinead and Brian in holding their breath. When Constantine spoke again his tone was still angry, but judicial.             "Ma'el," he said, "I find no evidence of criminal intent in your activities, and you furnish the proof yet again that an intelligent man can be a fool and misguided in the thinking of which he is capable. Your contention that women are equal if not superior to men is untenable. Women are both a necessity and a pleasure for the continuance of life, just as is the grain and the cattle we eat to sustain us and the beasts of burden that work for us or carry us into battle. Like those beasts we feed and treat them with fairness and consideration or, if the circumstances warrant it, by applying the whip. Often, like beautiful and docile beasts, we come to love some of them deeply. But they are not and never will be the equals of men."             He fixed his gaze sternly on Ma'el and went on, "My verdict and decision is that you are fool rather than a criminal, and that you have been preaching a harmless sedition that has already caused embarrassment to a few of your converts who tried to set themselves up as soothsayers while the others, plainly not wanting to be held up to similar ridicule, maintain a sensible silence. The harm you have done is minor as will be the punishment.             "You have two days," he continued, "in which to employ, at your own expense, artisans who will collapse the entry tunnel and seal off your secret chamber so that it can never be used again. By the end of the third day I will expect to hear that the magician, Ma'el, and his Hibernian slaves will have left Rome never to return."             "You have my permission to leave," he ended. "Do so at once."             As they returned through the audience antechamber, watched curiously by the richly garbed and obviously powerful persons who were waiting there and asking each other loudly why these four should have had the ear of the Emperor before themselves, they neither looked aside nor spoke. But it was plain from the heightened color of Sinead's face that she had angry words that were waiting to burst forth. But it was not until Declan's weapons had been returned to him and they were clear of the palace and its listening ears that she was able to speak.             "A beast of burden," she said in a tone of quiet fury. "A necessity for the continuance of mankind, of man kind, and an object for their pleasure. Constantine is said to be a cultured and liberal Emperor, but personally I do not think that he deserves the title Great." CHAPTER TWENTY Ma'el Report. Day 112,887 ...             I decided to omit the visit to Athens and have proceeded without delay to Alexandria for two reasons. One is that in Greece my work among the young women would be hampered as it was in Rome, while in Egypt 1 would have more freedom of action due to the respect gained during a previous visit of three centuries ago when my physical similarity to one of their deities was used to good effect. The second is that I am increasingly troubled by a sense of personal urgency, the cause of which I am no longer able to foresee and cannot, with the information available to me at the present time, explain.             "For a Taelon who is virtually indestructible on this world and with half of a very long lifetime stretching ahead, I should not be subject to a feeling of urgency about anything. I can only conclude that my diminishing precognitive faculty is the reason and that my psychological difficulties shall remain until I again find a means of seeing into the future, even if it has to be through the sensorium of an Earth person that I trust.             "But the young woman Sinead still shows no indications of acquiring the timesight faculty. The possibility exists that she is genetically as well as emotionally flawed.             "Brian ordered Captain Nolan to take us to Alexandria because, he openly admits, he still wishes to acquire my magical knowledge. If I was to give it to him, fully and with complete truth, it would frighten his primitive Earthly mind into complete dysfunction. Instead I asked him to arrange and supervise the outfitting of Sinead and Declan with garments and equipment suitable for our onward journey into India and Cathay because, unlike the Taelon, this species has no natural environmental protection other than a few wisps of body hair. But the purse I offered Brian to defray the cost was graciously refused with a hint that he would prefer to have my knowledge rather than my gold. He is a most persistent man.             "With covert assistance from my Taelon technology, the voyage to Alexandria was made without interference from marauding sea raiders. On the way to our berth in the west quay, the ship passed under the famed lighthouse on the island of Pharos, a structure that is generally acclaimed to be one of the seven wonders of this world, except by the native Alexandrians who scarcely look at it ..." -             It was a city of great interest and beauty in spite of being a bustling seaport and with an atmosphere entirely different from Rome because, Brian told them as he sniffed the air delicately, of the preponderance of camels that were being used as beasts of burden. He pointed out the Temples of Serapis and Poseidon and the Soma, the mausoleum that contained the remains of the great Alexander who had given his name to the city, as well as the museums that he would visit later because they were said to contain a few of the half million books, some of them scrolls measuring thirty paces in length, that had been rescued from the great Alexandria Library before it had burned down.             Whenever they came to a street of merchants containing displays of goods such as brightly woven carpets, costly and exotic viands or, on one occasion, a platform and enclosure for the sale of slaves that was attracting a large crowd of onlookers, he warned them to keep a tight hold on their valuables. The pickpockets here were reputed to be among the most light-fingered in the world because those who proved themselves inept suffered the summary amputation of a hand.             At all times Brian was entertaining and gracious, particularly to Sinead, and he treated them as equals rather than servants, but in a roundabout fashion he was always asking questions about Ma'el. The only information they could give him was that their master planned to continue the journey by land as soon as possible, but it was plain that that knowledge disappointed him.             "This is a good place," Brian said suddenly. "I remember it from my last visit."             He had stopped them at the entrance to a merchant's establishment that was flanked by displays of clothing and attractively displayed materials, and looked so familiar to Declan that he half expected Padraig of Cashel to emerge smiling with his measuring cords. Without realizing it he must have been thinking aloud.             "In Cashel old Padraig asks a fair price," said Brian, laughing, "and he is such a gentle old man that you would feel ashamed if you paid him less. Here it is a little different. Let me warn you ..." his voice became apologetic, "... that you are about to see the nasty side of my nature ..."             The clothing they needed was produced and fitted quickly inside curtained alcoves by smiling slaves, servants, or perhaps they were members of the proprietor's family. By the time Declan's long woolen cloak and warm undergarments worn during the voyage and in colder Rome had been stowed in his pack with the new purchases Ma'el had suggested, they had been replaced by an equally long but much less warm white cloak that concealed his sword and axe, a large, matching square of cotton worn under his helmet to protect his neck and ears from the sun, and open sandals for use for walking rather than riding. Apart from the weapons, Sinead was similarly dressed. The fact that one of the foreigners was a young female who wanted to dress as a boy aroused no comment because foreigners were wont to do strange things and foreign gold was as good as any other kind.             But it seemed that the actual amount of gold that was expected to change hands was a matter for serious dispute which, while it stopped short of physical violence, involved the exchange of a great many insults concerning the persons and ancestors of both the proprietor and Brian as well as their improper sexual behavior with various beasts. Incredibly, the dispute ended amicably with bows and smiles and urgings for Brian to patronize the establishment again when next he visited the city.             "Your mouths are open," he said, laughing, as they returned to the street, "so allow me to answer your questions before you ask them. This is not Hibernia. Here we must haggle, or rather I will haggle for you until you learn the way of it, over everything you buy. There are two reasons for this. The first and most important one is that not to do so would mark us at once as rich, stupid, and ignorant foreigners, and soon we would be pestered by many unscrupulous people trying to take advantage of our ignorance so as to relieve us of our riches. This is not a reputation that would help you here."             "1 see," said Declan. "And the second reason?"             "It would have been unkind of me to spoil the transaction's entertainment value for the proprietor. But a good argument makes me hungry. Please be my guests. Further down the street there is a place that serves very good food. There you can put down those heavy bags, eat, shelter from the midday heat and, of course, have a pleasant conversation."             About Ma'el, Declan added with silent certainty. At home it was the custom for bards to sing for their supper or, indeed, for any other meal. Not for the first time Brian was expecting them to talk for it.             They were replete with a variety of exotic, highly spiced dishes that criminally assaulted the tongue but still compared favorably with shipboard fare when Brian began to exact payment.             Pleasantly he said, "I suggest we use the Gaelic, an uncommon language here, to foil would-be eavesdroppers. Your master's explanation to Constantine of what he was trying to do for those young women in the catacombs intrigues me, but there is a question at the back of my mind, or perhaps it is an inconsistency, that I cannot tease out into the light As one who took part in many of these initiations, perhaps you could help me to clarify it, my lady."             Giving an impressionable near-child like Sinead such a grown-up title was an unecessary and inaccurate form of respect, Declan thought cynically, but then words were Brian's most potent and subtle weapon. He watched the impatience that had begun to cloud her face clear into a smile at the compliment.             "Of course," she said. "But I have already described the rituals to you many times and told you everything I know about them. My apologies, but I know and can tell you no more."             "Is it possible," said Brian, "that you know or have seen or felt something that you have forgotten or thought too unimportant to be mentioned? Would you indulge me again, my lady, and describe all you saw, heard, felt, or thought about the ritual?"             Sinead nodded, closed her eyes to shut out external distractions and began to speak. She described Ma'el's opening instructions when he had told everyone to keep their eyes on the flame of the candle they each held so that they would see nothing else, and listen to his words and hear nothing else, and feel only the touch of his hands on their heads and any other sensation that might come to them because of his words and touch. His words had been gentle and encouraging and about the gift of future sight that they would pass on to their children and children's children who would pass what they saw or learned back to them, the possessors of the original gift. As women, he had told them, those who survived past the period of birthing carried within themselves an unbroken line of life and a gradually diminishing awareness stretching forward to the ultimate end of their kind. They should concentrate their minds so as to learn and feel and know the truth of what he was saying to them.             "â?¦ When he laid his hands on me," she went on with an edge of self-reproach in her voice, "they felt as light and fragile as a bird's wings. Many of the others tried to describe the strange visions that came to them of events and people they knew or did not know and which frightened and confused some of them. If they spoke about them in public I could understand why they were not accepted as soothsayers. I wanted it to happen to me for Ma'el's sake, but I myself did not see or feel anything except for an itching inside my head. I fear that I am a grave disappointment to Ma'el, and to you.             "Perhaps," she added with a laugh that had no humor in it, "the gift is not for a woman who dresses as a man."             Brian hesitated for a moment, and when he spoke his tone was sympathetic and with an apology in it as if for a hurt to come. "I speak truth rather than flattery," he said very seriously. "You are, or are soon to become, a comely young woman, fair of face and lively of wit, and one who in time any man would count himself fortunate indeed to win. But your master has said many times that his gift of future sight comes back to you through your descendants. I am truly sorry, my lady, but the reason you have not received the gift may be that never in your lifetime will you bear children."             "I have no intention of bearing ...!" Sinead began angrily, then she moderated her tone and went on, 'There were events, and injuries, in my past that may have rendered me barren. This I have accepted. My anger is not directed at you, Brian, because in your way you are a kindly and thoughtful man. I know that your words can be subtle and deadly weapons, but there are also times, as now, when you try to use them as instruments of healing. I thank you for that, but let us return to a less painful subject."             Brian gave her a sympathetic smile but remained silent. Declan said, "We could talk about you, Brian. Or Ma'el, a man who is ..."             There was the sound of dishes and eating utensils rattling as Brian slapped the tabletop. "That," he burst out, "is the inconsistency that has been nibbling at my brain. The ability to see into the future, Ma'el tells us, is the prerogative of a direct succession of women. But he is a man who has, but should not have, the gift.             "Are we sure," he added after a pause, "that he is in fact a man?"             Declan stared at him, feeling his jaw drop in surprise, and Sinead's mouth was open, too. But before either of them could speak, Brian went on, "With respect, my lady, you have already said that Ma'el treated you with kindness, protected you, and did not, well, take advantage of you as some old and dishonorable men would have done. He may be a kindly old man, but his actions where you are concerned, if he is in truth a he, are more befitting those of a kindly woman and mother. Would you agree?"             They both stared at him, too astonished to speak. Brian looked at Sinead and gave an uncomfortable laugh.             "My lady," he said, "I know the idea is completely ridiculous, so let us change to a subject less hurtful to you. How best I can help you spend the rest of this day?"             When Sinead did not reply, Declan said, "We are strangers here to whom everything is new. Go where you will and we will be pleased to follow wherever you lead."             "You speak too hastily, Declan," he replied, but his eyes were looking an apology at Sinead. "My lead would not take you to places of scenic interest or entertainment but to a museum, an establishment filled with scrolls, drawings, and relics of the past that is said to contain material salvaged from the great Alexandria Library before the fire had totally destroyed it. You would not, I think, find my search among the dusty chambers and stacks particularly interesting."             Sinead was making a determined attempt to lighten her mood. She smiled and said, "The degree of interest would depend on the object of your search. What are you searching for?"             Looking relieved and pleased, Brian returned her smile. "Knowledge," he said, "I am a seeker after knowledge but, unlike your master, I have never been averse to making a profit from whatever I learn."             An almost boyish enthusiasm crept into his voice as he went on, 'This time I am searching for the drawings, calculations, and perhaps a model of the device called an aelophile that was invented by Hero of Alexandria, a mathematician of the time of the Sixth Ptolemy. It was said to be comprised of a spherical bronze kettle mounted on and free to rotate horizontally around two metal supports. The kettle was pierced at diametrically opposed sides of its circumference by two small, short lengths of pipe that were angled in opposite directions. When it was partly filled with water and a fire lit under it, steam puffed from the two small, angled pipes and this caused the spherical kettle to spin on its supports, quite rapidly, it was said.             "Hero himself did not think much of his device at first," Brian went on, "which he insisted had been built solely to prove to himself that heat could be converted into rotary movement, but later he suggested that a larger device might be capable of pumping water or perhaps moving the wheels of chariots. When his Pharaoh witnessed a demonstration, his response was that it hissed like a nest of vipers and filled the room with steam, and that slaves and beasts could fetch water and pull vehicles much more cleanly and cheaply and that Hero should forget the idea, which he did.             "Myself I think the idea has possibilities," Brian ended defensively, "which is why I want to find the drawings and make copies of them in case my principals in Hibernia would be interested in trying out the device for use as a..."             Sinead held up a hand and looked at Declan for agreement as she said, "Now that we know what it looks like, we would be pleased to help you find it."             But in the event they did not find it, even though Brian was known to the museum curator and was given every assistance. On the way back to the harbor he seemed much less disappointed than they were, and explained that a search of that kind was time-consuming and could take many weeks or months without any certainty of a successful outcome, and added that they should not concern themselves because he did not expect them to help him search every day.             The sun had set, dusk was falling rapidly and they were about twenty paces from the ship's berth when Sinead broke a long silence. There was not enough light to show her expression clearly, but her voice sounded strangely adult and very serious when she spoke.             "Brian," she said, "I hope you don't think me impertinent or needlessly inquisitive about your personal affairs, but are you a wealthy man? Do you really need to travel the world doing this very dangerous work? Would it not be more sensible and safer for you if you returned to Hibernia and enjoyed your wealth and reputation in comfort instead of continually risking your life?"             "It would indeed be sensible and safer," he replied, his teeth showing dimly in a smile. "But I would soon grow bored with that life and tire of endlessly recounting my adventures, and my friends would soon tire of listening to me. This style of life is unsafe, but interesting, and if..."             He stopped suddenly in his tracks so that Sinead and Declan had to turn back to him. In a troubled voice he said, "Have you found Ma'el gift at last? Can you see into my future, and are you warning me?"             "No. Yes. Perhaps," Sinead replied in confusion. After a moment she went on, "With respect, Brian, I have come to know you as a likable and learned rogue who lives and avoids death by your wits. I do not foresee the time and manner of your death, whether it be due to drowning at sea, the violence of enemies, or a foreign plague, but I strongly advise that when next you return to Hibernia you should stay there.             "It may not be a prediction," she ended in an embarrassed voice, "but a simple feeling of concern for a wayward friend in need of good advice."             "I rarely take good advice," said Brian, sounding relieved. "But for your concern, my lady, I thank you." CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Ma'el Report. Day 112,954 ...             It is now sixty-three days since we unshipped my vehicle and left Alexandria to join a caravan bound for the Orient along the dusty, unpaved, and often sand-obliterated track that the natives, who are wont to use poetic license rather than accuracy in their descriptions of the local environment, so lyrically refer to as the Golden Road to Samarkand. Because of the heat, windblown sand, and insects I remain in the wagon, telling my servants that I need time to think and I am not to be disturbed unless an emergency arises. Since Sinead and Declan have been given custody of the chart with basic instructions in its use, such interruptions are few. But the thinking that I am free to do is neither positive nor constructive, and the process is being worsened by an increasing physical debility that I suspect may have a psychological basis.             "I am becoming increasingly prey to self-doubts regarding my mental and physical ability to complete this investigation. My insistence that I be severed from all but the most tenuous contact with the Commonalityâ??ostensibly so that I could concentrate on my work without interruption but in reality, as they must already have realized, to avoid my every decision being scrutinized and debated endlessly by a Synodal committeeâ??was perhaps too academically arrogant and overconfident on my part. I am not yet ready to discontinue this investigation, but 1 did not realize that complete isolation from our people would adversely affect my Taelon faculties to this extent.             "My timesight becomes less trustworthy with each passing day, yet I urgently need a view into near-future events. That is why the decision was taken to induce this faculty in the Earth species so that they, however imperfectly, will be able to provide me with the operating data and foresightings that I need. This is an action that will certainly draw censure from the Synod, and regrettably the result has been a failure where success was most needed.             "Following repeated cranial stimulation the female Sinead, who as my servant would have been the ideal local access window to the future, has proved to be an unsuitable candidate for precognition. Reluctant as I am to do so, for 1 have formed a liking for this servant, if I am not to remain completely blind to future events on this world it is imperative that I acquire another female who can be given the timesight ..." -             Because they were driving the only horse-drawn vehicle in a caravan of forty-three heavily laden camels and were expected to be the slowest of the company, they had been assigned the position at the end of the line. There the plodding feet of the beasts and the small contingent of foot guards ahead of them stirred up a constant cloud of dust that settled in thick layers on their clothing and tried to penetrate the narrow openings of the voluminous head wrappings to get into their eyes. When the wind was in the wrong quarter, as it was now, the smell of the camels was horrendous.             "You've a horse and are free to go where you like," said Sinead in a sarcastic voice from the driving bench. "Why don't you ride out bravely, cloak streaming out behind you in the wind, and scout the surrounding desert so as to warn us of a possible attack?"             Before setting out, Ma'el had provided Declan with a handsome white Arabian stallion who was smaller and perhaps half the age of the gray mare who was pulling the wagon. Once he had learned how to mount and ride it he had found that it was surefooted and could move like the wind. Right now the temptation to exercise his lovely mount was great, but in spite of Sinead's words he knew that that was not what she really wanted him to do.             Declan had discovered long since that she liked company in her misery.             "Does the chart show any signs of us being followed?" he asked. "Or of an ambush being laid between here and the caravanserai, or an attack developing on our flanks?"             "In order," she replied, "no, no, and I'm not sure."             "Let me see it," said Declan. He dismounted quickly, tied the reins loosely to one of the wagon shafts, and jumped up beside her.             The chart showed the land surface that lay within a day's march in every direction, and the morning sun was still close enough to the horizon for it to reveal the shadows between hills, dunes, and major surface irregularities around them. It also showed the long finger of windblown dust that was their caravan, and far to the north of the line of hills that lay ahead of them, a smaller and rounder cloud.             Declan pointed to it. "What's that?"             'That," she replied, "is what I'm not sure about."             "Let's have a closer look," he said, and tapped at the group of small and almost invisible circles on the lower corner of the chart. Immediately the picture slipped away to one side and shrank until the eastern edge of the Mediterranean and the Red Sea came into view. Declan swore in self-irritation.             "I'm a ham-fisted amadan." he said.             "That you are," she replied. Her tapping fingers, thinner and almost as delicate as Ma'el's, quickly brought the picture back to the area they wanted.             "That round cloud could be due to wind eddies among the dunes," she went on, "if it wasn't for the fact that whatever is causing it is not moving in the direction of the wind. Do you want a closer view?"             "Please," said Declan.             Suddenly the dust cloud, looking tenuous and in places almost transparent at close range, was almost filling the chart. On the windward side it was seeded with the tiny points of darker gray made by small groups of men on foot and with larger and longer shadows that indicated the presence of camels or horses. He estimated their strength at between sixty to seventy men, ten horses, and four camels. As he watched two of the long shadows moved ahead of the main group and separated to form tiny dust clouds of their own.             "Can you expand the picture to show individuals," he asked, "and the weapons they are carrying?"             "No," Sinead replied. "If I magnify it too much everything begins to wobble like stones under running water."             "Then pull back to the original size," Declan said, disappointed, "and call Ma'el at once. He must be told about this."             Sinead hesitated. "I'm not being contrary just because it's you who's giving me orders," she said, "but I'd rather not. Ma'el told me not to rouse him unless it was an emergency, and these people are still a long way off. Can we handle this matter ourselves?"             Rather than give a short answer that would be sure to cause an argument, Declan decided to explain the situation as he saw it and let it speak for itself. His index finger moved about the chart as he spoke.             "I believe this to be a large party of desert raiders who will intersect the caravan track just here, where we would be hemmed-in between this broken ground to the south and the hills to the north, which would also hide the attack from the lookouts in the caravanserai. Unless there is a traitor among the merchants' servants, the raiders cannot know that we are so close to them and are probably intending to ambush the first caravan that comes along. I don't know if their number is enough for them to capture the entire caravan, so they may be content with cutting out the tail, which will probably be the last thirty or forty camels and, of course, our wagon, while the forward section flees for the safety of the caravanserai. We can't drive off the raiders unaided ..."             "No?" she said impishly, looking at his long-axe.             "No," he said firmly, "not even if they lined up and came at me one at a time. Be serious. I can't ask the caravan merchants to divert to the south to try to avoid the ambush because only a few of them speak Latin, and 1 would have trouble making them obey me or even believe how I learned of the danger. So the only course is for the wagon to slow down and detach itself from the caravan while I head for the caravanserai. If the raider scouts should see you they will think that the wagon has broken down and leave it to rob at their leisure, and by that time I will be back with the caravanserai soldiers to drive off the ..."             "Quite apart from them not understanding a word you say," said Sinead, checking him with an upraised hand, "do you really think that the soldiers, or the few who know Latin, will do such a thing just because you ask them?*'             Declan shook his head and said, "Yes, they will. The merchants pay the officers of the garrison a fee, but only for the camels that pass through the area in safety and with their loads intact, not those that have been robbed. Besides, I will offer gold to ensure the safety of this wagon first, and then more for their help in turning back the raiders. I don't know how or where Ma'el gets it, but he never seems to be short of gold, and I believe that he would honor any promise of payment I made.             "I think you should call him as soon as you can," he ended firmly. "This is an emergency."             Before she could reply, the curtain of skins behind the driving bench twitched aside and Ma'el said, "I agree."             The old man's voice sounded weak and tired and carried in it the impatient tone of one whose thinking on another subject has been interrupted. And again he used words the meaning of which they could only guess at.             "Your viewpoint alterations in the chart were repeated on my monitor screen," he said, "and your conversation regarding them was overheard so that there is no need to repeat yourselves. The strategy and tactics suggested by Declan are approved. However, while my timesight is untrustworthy at present, I have an unsupported feeling that there will be a greater chance of success if the communications difficulties that Sinead has already mentioned are removed."             While he was speaking, Ma'el drew two ear decorations from an inner fold in his cloak, followed by two wide collars. They were finely worked in bright metal and identical to the earpiece and collar he himself was wearing.             'These are valuable charms," he went on quickly, placing them on top of the chart, "devices whose use is normally restricted to members of my own race, and which to others will appear only as body decorations. Wear them as I am wearing mine. The earpieces will enable you to hear any words said to you, in whatever language or dialect that is in local use, as if they were in your own native tongue. The collars will convert the words you speak into the languages of those around you. Both of you, follow these instructions without delay."             Sinead nodded and pulled back her burnoose. "Like the chart," she said in an awed voice, "this is very powerful magic."             "It is magic," said Ma'el impatiently, "because as yet you do not understand how or why it works."             "Wait, please," Declan said as the old man turned to reenter the wagon. "I understand your instructions, but not why you wear these ornaments when we already know that you speak perfect Gaelic, Latin, and who knows how many other tongues besides. Surely you don't need them."             Ma'el paused to touch his collar before he replied, 'Think before you ask a question, Declan, and you may find that you do not need to ask it or that it has already been answered. I do not now, have not and have no wish to speak and understand Gaelic, Latin, or any other of your languages for the reason that there are too many of them to learn even in my long lifetime. I speak, through this collar only in my native Taelon language. It is you, and everyone else who listens to me, who hears it in the words of their own language."             As Ma'el was turning to re-enter the wagon's interior he paused for a moment. His voice had lost its impatience and sounded gentle and almost sad when he spoke.             "You embark on a difficult task, Declan," he said, "and the lives of Sinead and yourself will depend on its successful outcome. Regrettably my timesight is untrustworthy and I am unable to forecast what this outcome will be. So use your mind and your skills, and act in calmness and not when you are in the grip of strong emotion. Remember that you know more about the situation we face than any others that you will meet, and act with the confidence this knowledge gives you. And if you have a personal god who might provide you with an invisible means of support, ask this entity to grant you good fortune."             Sinead watched Declan intently, her eyes being the only feature visible through the narrow opening in her burnoose, but neither of them spoke as he remounted and she slowed the wagon. The caravan master would probably send someone back to ask why she was doing such a stupid thing, and with the help of her new ear ornament and collar she would be able to tell him a credible story. Quickly he removed his cumbersome burnoose, rolled it up tightly, and tossed it to Sinead. For the rest of the day he would be moving fast and leaving his dust behind him rather than riding into that stirred up by others, and his helmet, suncloth, and cloak were all the protection he needed. Still without speaking he raised his hand in farewell and gave his beautiful Arab stallion its head.             With the lovely, surefooted beast moving smooth and fast like a wind blowing over the sand, and air that was free of the smell of camel dung cooling his face, Declan felt happier than he ever had been for as long as he could remember. The thinking and planning for the future he would push aside until he reached the caravanserai and learned of the situation there. He would enjoy the next few hours, the hot, bright desert that was so different from Hi-bernia that he almost felt that he was dreaming it, and the smooth, regular movement of his splendid animal that seemed to be an extension of himself. But suddenly, and in spite of the sun that was blazing down on the desert all around him, he shivered.             He was remembering Ma'el's final words to Sinead and himself. The old man had spoken as if he might never see them alive again. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO             The sun was setting when he reached the caravanserai just as the heavy, double gates were about to be closed for the night. As he dismounted, the soldier in charge of the guard detail that was standing easy nearby looked admiringly at Declan's horse, glanced with interest at his gladius and long-axe, and smiled before he spoke.             "You are just in timem friend," he said, "to avoid having to spend the night in the desert. But you must give me your name and business here before I can allow you to pass within."             Declan did not know what language the other was speaking, but the words that came through his ear ornament were in clear and unambiguous Gaelic. He hoped the collar Ma'el had given him would work as well in the other direction.             "I am Declan," he replied, remembering what Ma'el had told him about knowing more than these people and trying to project the easy assurance of command, "a warrior lately from Hibernia and the personal guardian of a rich merchant who travels with the caravan that is a day's journey from here, and which is shortly to come under attack from brigands. It is about this matter that I wish to speak urgently to your commanding officer."             Abruptly the man stood up very straight, snapped his fingers at one of the guards in the casual manner that marked him at once as an officer, and pointed at the horse before turning on his heel. "Your mount will be watered and fed," he said over his shoulder. "Please follow me."             Declan had heard much talk about this establishment from the camel drivers and merchants who had been sharing their journey. Set in one of the most dangerous stretches of the camel route to India, and manned and maintained by a local sheik who extracted a tithe from every man and beast for the services provided, it was said to be the most well-appointed and defended caravanserai that they were likely to encounter. Without appearing to be openly curious, Declan's eyes took in every detail of the structure as he followed the man.             It was a large, open rectangle of cleared ground enclosed by a stockade of wooden logs that was more than the height of two tall men. Four higher guard towers stood at each corner with two more on each side of the enhance gate he had just left. Additional defense was provided by a continuous raised walkway mounted on the inner walls that was served at frequent intervals by stairs or ladders. Built against the two shorter walls were a forge, smithy, the open, slatted structure of a food store, and the garrison barracks that seemed small for the number of men lounging about or cleaning weapons and equipment outside it. Running the full length of the wall facing the gates was a structure comprised of stables at ground level and another walkway giving access to the living quarters above, probably for the use of officers and the richer merchants who would pay not to sleep on the ground beside their camels. The enclosure had a well and drinking troughs and was just large enough to accommodate all the beasts of the caravan he had left, although there would be little space to spare and the smell would be horrendous.             As he followed the man up steep, uneven stairs to the officers' quarters, Declan had to throw his long, white cloak back over his shoulders to avoid tripping on it. The action revealed his studded leather tunic, high boots, and the weapons he was carrying. He kept his hands well away from them as he was led into the commanding officer's quarters, a long, low-ceilinged room that was divided by rich, hanging drapery into a spartan work area and the more luxuriously appointed living and sleeping space.             While his escort spoke the words of identification that had already been used at the gates, Declan watched the man who bore the ultimate power in this place and who, if Ma'el's magic collar and his own Hibernian wits would guide his tongue in the right direction, would use that authority as and where it was needed.             He was an enormous man both in height and girth even while he was seated, as now, on a padded stool behind a trestle table on which lay papyrus charts, measuring sticks, a beaker filled with an aromatic liquid, a large, curved sword, and two weighted throwing knives. On the front of his turban there was an ornament that looked costly but which might have been a symbol of rank. But the steady blue eyes that were regarding Declan from the peak of his leather helmet to the toes of his high boots, and the long, hooked nose and full black beard with streaks of gray in it were not the features of a person who would be easily convinced about anything. Declan was thinking that he was being faced with the Arabian equivalent of Black Seamus when the resemblance was increased by the other showing his uneven white teeth in a smile.             "You look to be rich, Hibernian," he said, "and your apparel is pretty for a soldier. You are well-tutored in our tongue." A sour edge entered his voice. "Were I a young woman I would be greatly impressed by the sight of you. Are the weapons you carry additional ornaments or do you know how to use them?"             Declan took a deep breath, then said calmly, "Sir, I am omitting the courtesy of addressing you by your name, rank, and tide because, as a traveler and stranger in this land, I am unsure of what they are. It is my master who is rich, not I. Among other things, he provided me with clothing and the ability to converse in many tongues, but the weapons are my own and I have long favored the axe. It is not the company of women that I seek but immediate military assistance."             Beside him Declan's escort seemed to be having difficulty with his breathing. In an outraged voice he burst out, "Know, stranger, that you are addressing the noble Achmed ben Imaubim, Prince of the Sheikdom of Khasant and the lands of..."             "Enough," said Achmed, raising one large, fat hand." 'Sir' is a strange title, short and seemingly respectful but free of the verbally unnecessary compliments with which I am usually addressed. You may continue to call me 'Sir' as long as you are here. But I find you a strange man, Hibernian. You are not easily stung to anger by personal insults, you do not boast of your prowess with the weapons you carry, and you appear to place duty before pleasure. There is a calmness and certainty about you more befitting to a master than a servant. Intriguing. If you are indeed a servant, Declan, you must have the complete trust of your master, and be very well paid. Am I correct?"             Declan inclined his head without speaking or changing his expression, only then realizing that it was a gesture he had learned from Ma'el.             "You are right," said Achmed, "those matters are unimportant and do not concern me." His tone became friendlier but at the same time more brisk as he went on, "You have had a long and tiring ride, Declan. May I offer food, rest, and refreshment before we discuss your master's needs and, of course, the sum he will have to pay me to provide them ... But I see you looking at my wall map and growing restive. What troubles you?"             "My thanks, sir," said Declan, "for I am indeed hungry and thirsty. But if it pleases you, the matter is urgent. May we talk before I eat?"             "Before that," said Achmed, glancing at Declan's escort, "you will divest yourself of your cloak, helmet, and weapons and give them to my lieutenant, Bashir, who will place them in a safe place until you need them again. You will understand and forgive my apparent distrust, but these are unquiet times and I must be constantly on guard against assassination. Bashir will also return to us without delay so that he, too, can hear what you have to say to me."             Declan moved to the large intricately woven tapestry that almost filled the wall on Achmed's right. In spite of the garishly colored areas that marked the ground contours, the bright, contrasting tufts of yarn that marked the peaks and other special ground features, and the lines of beading showing the main camel routes, he was surprised to find that it was every bit as accurate as Ma'el's chart. When he heard Bashir re-enter the room he remained facing the tapestry and began talking quickly, describing all that had appeared on Ma'el's chart but pretending that he had seen it with his own eyes. He was allowed to finish without interruption, but when he turned again to face them, Bashir was looking grim and Achmed's features were suffused with anger.             Uncertainly, Declan said, "That was the position and deployment of the raiders as I saw them early this morning, and what I consider to be their intentions regarding the caravan. I think I know what should be done about them, but... I'm sorry, sir, I seem to have said something to anger you."             It was a moment before Achmed found his voice. 'The tale you tell angers me, Hibernian," he said, "not the teller. Are you quite certain of the number of men and beasts that you saw? Do you perhaps add drama to the tale with a storyteller's exaggeration?"             Declan shook his head. "I told of those I could see clearly enough to count. There may have been more of them concealed by their dust cloud. Are a few more raiders an important consideration?"             It was obvious from his expression that Achmed was too angry for an exchange of conversation. Instead he snapped at his lieutenant, "Explain it to him. Tell him everything."             Bashir nodded, took a deep breath and said, 'There have been rumors that something like this was being planned against us. They are not desert raiders but a force sent by a neighboring sheik who is our enemy but not yet ready or brave enough to declare open war. The caravanserai is too well-defended for them to risk an attack on it, so instead they must intend to rob the caravan while killing everyone who might link them to the crime. No right-thinking person would suppose that we had anything to do with it, but our good reputation for ensuring a safe passage through our lands would come into question, the merchants would seek an alternative and probably riskier path for their caravans, and we would lose an important source of revenue. In time this would force us to abandon and destroy the caravanserai to forbid its use by our enemies ..."             Prince Achmed silenced his lieutenant with an upraised hand. He used the same hand to indicate the map and said, "How would a Hibernian warrior solve this problem?"             "With a surprise attack from the eastern flank, here," Declan replied. Trying to keep the eagerness out of his voice he went on, "You have many men here who are rested and, perhaps, bored with inaction. If they were to ..."             The hand was raised again. "We would be fighting a pitched battle against an enemy with superior numbers," Achmed said. "If we were to lose it, the camel train and the caravanserai would be captured and I, if I survived, would no longer be my father's favorite son. Half my force must remain here to defend and maintain my establishment and the other half, if I was to do as you suggest, would be outnumbered three to one. The casualties would be heavy indeed, and we might save only a few camel loads and even fewer of my men. You are a young hothead and your solution is too costly in blood."             "With respect, you are wrong, sir," said Declan, ignoring Bashir's shocked expression at a stranger suggesting that his prince was something less than omniscient. He turned back to the wall map and went on, "My intention would be to set an ambush for them, here, here, and here, by allowing them to move southward past our positions, and wait until they have taken their places in the hills along the camel track where they will wait until the entire caravan is in view. Depending on the lie of the land and the speed with which we can get into position, we will either surprise them from behind or make a flanking attack from the east out of the rising sun. If our movements are fast and precise, that is, if they are guided into place by someone who knows the area, and if I am allowed to instruct them in methods of fighting unfamiliar here, and if they can remain steady of mind rather than going into a frenzy of rage in the face of a close enemy, and they do exactly as they have been told, half of your men should be enough and there will be a successful outcome with few losses."             Bashir cleared his throat noisily and said, "You must not tell wildly optimistic stories to the prince ..." he made a small bow toward Achmed, "... who depends on me for military advice. Describe to us in full, if you can, the arcane forms of combat they use in Hibernia that enable you to fight a battle without a butcher's bill of dead and dying? Declan, the idea is preposterous."             Declan sighed in relief, glad that the other had stopped short of calling him a liar and thus avoided the complications of offended honor that the accusation would have caused, and said, "Time is short. With your permission, sir, I would like to explain everything to the men as well as yourselves before they set out on their night marchâ??"             "A night march!" Bashir broke in. "You have already ridden all day and now you're going to spend the night..."             "Sleeping," said Declan. "At least, for the next few hours, then I will catch up on the men before sunrise. But someone with a good knowledge of the ground will have to accompany them and place them in the attack positions."             Achmed gave his lieutenant a long, questioning look, the significance of which was lost on Declan, and received a nod and a smile in return. As Bashir was turning to go he said, "I will be pleased to do that service for you. But now I will pick and assemble the best men for our purpose and you must come with me to explain your tactics and to exhort them to deeds of wild Hibernian bravery."             "Before you go," said Achmed, standing up and revealing his true girth and height, "I wish you to carry my own weapon for the day ..." from the wall behind him he took down a long, curved sword whose broad blade was wider at the tip than at the jeweled hilt and held it out to Declan in the palms of both hands,"... because your gladius is unsuitable for fighting on horseback. Bear it with honor and success. Much as I would like to accompany you, there is not a horse that could carry me and even the legs of a camel would buckle under my weight. You have no time to waste on further conversation with me before you set out, so speak loudly to the men so that I will overhear and learn your plan. After which you will take the rest you need. Go, now."             "Thank you, sir," said Declan, accepting the weapon and stepping back so that he could swing the hilt up to his face in salute. "I shall wear and use it with honor."             The sword was hanging from his belt, his other weapons had been returned to him, and they were descending the stairs to the enclosure before the lieutenant spoke again. Considering the surprising nature of his words, Bashir's tone was completely without rancor.             "You wear it," he said, "because in this enterprise I know where I'm going but, unlike you, I do not know what to do when we get there. You wear the personal weapon of my master for all to see because you, Declan, have been placed in joint command of this operation." -             The eastern sky was showing a dark hazy stripe of gray and there was no slightest breath of wind when Declan reached the place where he should have overtaken the men on foot, but there was no trace of them until a man's low voice called out to him.             "Effendi? The Hibernian warrior?"             "Yes," said Declan, moving his mount closer to a slightly darker patch of darkness. "Who are you and where are the others?"             "I am the favored bowman, Mareth," the other replied softly. 'The riders were making such good time that Bashir said they could afford to slow their progress by allowing my bowmen to share the mounts. I was left behind to continue on foot so as to guide you in case you became lost."             Declan knew a hint when he heard one. Freeing a stirrup so that the other could climb on he reached down with one hand into the darkness. "Ride behind me and hold on tight."             "My thanks, effendi," said Mareth.             The man was thin and wiry under his burnoose so that the horse accepted the extra load without complaint. He barely spoke except to give occasional directions, and when Declan tried to start a conversation to relieve the tedium of the ride, the other reminded him respectfully that on a still night voices carried a long way in the desert.             By the time they arrived the sky had lightened enough to show clearly the ground features around them, the line of men lying prone under the rim of the hill ahead and the horses, hungry after their long night ride, cropping contentedly on the patches of sparse grass further down the slope. Declan tethered his mount beside them while the other man pointed ahead toward one of the figures lying huddled under his cloak.             "That is Bashir," said Mareth quietly. "We will approach him from behind, the last few paces on our bellies so as not to show ourselves above the skyline to the enemy."             "Lead the way," Declan murmured.             Keeping flat against the rising ground they drew level with Bashir, who nodded to Declan and said, "I know that you have keen eyes, but most of the area is still shadowed. Take an instant's look, show as little of your head as possible, and tell me what you can see and what you think it means."             Declan did so, but when he lowered his head to the sand again he closed his eyes before he spoke, the better to fix the picture of what he had seen in his mind while he was describing it.             "There are two groups spread out and hiding in the rocks above the camel road," he said, "in an uneven line stretching east to west They are already in ambush positions, so during the night they must have sent a scout westward along the track and know that the caravan is due soon and are ready for it. The first and smaller group, numbering no more than fifteen to twenty men, is just below us and very close while the larger one, which has about twice the strength of the first is farther and strung out in an uneven line to the westward. In a depression behind the larger group are their animals, about four camels and horses whose number is uncertain because there may be more concealed behind those I could see ..."             "You have good eyes," said Mareth softly.             Bashir nodded and said quickly, "What else did you see, and think?"             Declan hesitated. "The light was uncertain but it is strengthening," he said. "May I take another look?"             The other nodded impatiently, and when Declan lowered his head again Bashir said, "Well?"             "This may not be important," Declan replied, "but their camels are piled high and hung about with stores while their horses carry double saddles. It also seems to me that all of the enemy I can see are wearing broad belts and diagonal sashes with headgear of the same color which looks black in this light but may be dark green or red."             Beside him the silent Mareth seemed to grow even more quiet while Bashir cursed softly and said, "This is worse than I expected. They wear the markings of our enemy sheik's personal guard, men who have been born without pity or had it scourged out of them. The reason they make no attempt to cover their military dress is, of course, that they will slay everyone in the caravan without exception who might link them to the bloody massacre they intend."             He paused, looked at Declan very seriously and said, "If you do not wish to share the fate of your master, which is certain, you should ride at once to the caravanserai with the news of what has happened here so that my sheik will learn of this crime, and then go wherever you desire ... But your body wriggles in silent argument. Speak it in words, brave and probably stupid though the words may be."             "My master has another servant," said Declan awkwardly, "who is little more than a child. I would not want to abandon them."             "Do as you wish," said Bashir impatiently. "Now I must engage the enemy ... But I sense another argument coming from you. What is it?"             "I am a stranger here," said Declan carefully, "and although I bear the prince's swords, I should not presume to give you advice. But I think there might be a small chance of us winning this battle."             Mareth was nearly strangling himself in an effort to laugh silently while Bashir's voice was scornful as he said, "Are you about to suggest some wild, Hibernian tactic that will triple our strength? You do presume, Declan, but give your advice. It is my decision whether or not I take it."             "Of course," said Declan. He raised his head for an instant to look down on the closest enemy position, then he went on quickly, "Am I right in thinking that the enemy is so confident of holding the element of surprise that they haven't bothered to post any outlying lookouts? If that is so then we are in an ideal position to make the surprise attack you plan. But I think the surprise would be more effective if we waited until the sun has risen a little above the horizon and is behind us and dazzling the eyes of the men below.             "Waiting would give us three advantages," he went on, unable to keep the enthusiasm from his voice. "The imminent arrival of the caravan should attract all of the enemy's attention to the leading camels in the train, and the trouble developing here on their eastern flank would not be clearly seen because of the low sun. That will make them uncertain, especially if you choose the same moment to attack their main body from the rear. While these things are happening, and to further confuse the enemy, later I would like two of your horsemen to ride with me from the front to the rear of the caravan. On that first pass we would not stop to fight. Instead we would ride like the wind, shouting loudly to the camel drivers as we went by that more help was coming. That would not be strictly true but it would further confuse the enemy ..."             "It would be a barefaced lie," said Bashir, his teeth showing brightly in a face that was still gray with the growing light of dawn, "but an allowable stratagem in times of war. You have more advice?"             "Yes," said Declan, looking at Mareth, "for the bowmen."             "Go on," said Bashir.             Declan's eyes were on Mareth as he said, "The group below us are all lying prone, most of them with their backs to us as they watch for the caravan. They will make easy targets. At my signal, have your bowmen rise from cover and take careful aim, for the sun will be in the enemies' eyes and there will be plenty of time to aim and shoot the first flight of arrows as one and making each one of them find its mark. They will then advance down the slope on the enemy shooting at will, but I suggest they stop and kneel to steady themselves because an arrow loosed by a running bowman rarely finds its mark. By this time the survivors of the group will have organized themselves and will be shooting back, but they will still be dazzled by the sun behind you and will squint and hesitate while taking aim. When an enemy bowman has drawn back his bowstring and is about to loose an arrow, drop flat so as to give him the smallest possible target, the top of your head and shoulders, at which to aim and, hopefully, miss. When he is nocking another arrow, either shoot back at him or advance closer. Soon you will be too close for an exchange of arrows and you will use your swords to press home the attack. While you are doing this, I shall be drawing some of their attention with a flanking attack to further unsettle them. My horse is fast enough to make me a difficult target.             "But remember," he went on, "your men must remain calm and level-headed at all times. There must be no death or glory charges, no stupid heroics, and no heaps of brave, dead soldiers. We have a saying before battle that nobody lives forever, but in this case I want your men to try. This may not be your customary manner of warfare, but we are seriously outnumbered and must therefore fight in this cowardly fashion. Do you understand?"             Before the other could reply, Bashir said, "Declan, your advice is good and I'm taking it, all of it. Mareth, instruct your men accordingly and do not attack until Declan gives the word. When I see you go into action we also will attack. I have orders of my own to give ..."             Bashir was moving down the slope toward the horses and Mareth was crawling with instructions toward the closest of his bowmen.             It was a time for patience, Declan thought, as the rising sun turned from red to orange as it cleared the hills behind them and the caravan had not yet come into sight. Mareth's bowmen were spread out in an open line under the brow of the hill, watching him silently. Deliberately he did not raise his head too often, but the next time he looked the first of the camels were coming into sight and the eyes of the enemy would be on them. He gave Mareth the signal and bent low as he ran for his horse.             He watched from their flank as the bowmen rose into sight only enough to loose the first flight of arrows in unison at their unsuspecting targets, then more sporadically a second and a third flight before the enemy realized where the attack was coming from and began to shoot back. As expected, with the sun in their eyes their aim was hopelessly inaccurate. When Mareth's men rose to their feet and charged down the hill, Declan urged his horse forward and did the same, but instead of charging down on them in a straight line he rode in a semicircle so as to come at their position from the flank.             From that angle the sun was not in their eyes so that they had a clear view of him. He was attracting many arrows, but his original intention was to take the enemy bowmen's attention from the men who were attacking more slowly on foot, and it seemed to be working. Deliberately he guided his mount from side to side as he came rather than riding down on the position in a straight line. So many arrows flew his way that he wondered if the enemy bowmen would soon run short of them. Only two came close to him, however, one that tugged sharply as it went through his cloak and another that whispered past his ear. But their number and frequency was diminishing and suddenly he realized why.             More than half of the enemy lay still or writhing on the ground with arrows sprouting from their bodies, most of them the victims of the first few moments of the attack. Mareth was following instructions, but not quite to the letter because he had added an improvement that Declan had not considered. Most of the men had drawn their scimitars and were closing rapidly but erratically on the enemy as they tried to make more difficult targets of themselves, but not all of them. A few of Mareth's bowmen, probably his best marksmen, were holding back and continuing to kneel on the ground while they shot at any opposing bowman who was threatening their companions' advance. Declan dropped his reins so as to free both hands, drew the long-axe, and used his knees to urge his horse forward.             He was almost on top of them when the barb of an arrow scraped past his horse's neck, leaving a short, deep scratch and causing it to rear and shy to the side so violently that he almost lost his seat. The axe swing he had been aiming at the enemy bowman tore away the other's burnoose without touching the head inside. By the time he had regained control of his mount and returned to the attack, the fight was over.             Declan derived no pleasure from seeing wounded and already dying enemies being hacked unnecessarily to death, so he looked away in the direction of the other battle where Bashir's men had also surprised the enemy, although not as completely as had happened here. As he watched, Bashir detached himself from the fighting and began galloping towards Declan a few moments before Mareth joined him.             "You must have been a popular commander, Hibernian," he said, smiling broadly and waving his bloody scimitar. "We didn't lose a single man ..."             He broke off as Bashir arrived, looked around and nodded approval.             "This was well done," he said. "Now they outnumber us by only two to one. Mareth, retrieve as many arrows as you can, theirs as well as yours, because you will need them. Then gather your men and follow Declan and me on foot as we ride along the caravan shouting about the relief force that is coming to help them. That is you, although they and the opposition will not know that at the time. Do not climb the high ground to attack. Use the shelter provided by the loaded camels to shoot up the slopes at the enemy, support the caravan bowmen, stay alive for as long as you can, and try to make every one of your arrows, and your lives, count. Declan, when you're ready."             To make the enemy think that they were the vanguard of a new force rather than a remnant of the old one, they took advantage of the high ground to the east to circle back and join the camel track. It was not until Mareth's men were out of earshot behind them that Bashir spoke again.             "Declan," he said quietly, "you have done well, and if any of us were to survive this battle, which we certainly will not, many stories about you would have been told. That is why, after we have ridden the length of the caravan, I want you to continue on as fast as you can to rejoin your master's wagon that you've said lies far behind. The enemy may ignore it because they have many richly laden camels that are closer by to rob, so your master, the other servant, and yourself may survive. Your presence here would make no difference to our ultimate fate except that you would die with us."             "But if the enemy thinks that a relief force is coming," Declan began, "will they not withdraw from what they believe is a stronger enemy?"             "They would not refuse battle," said Bashir quietly, "no more than we did when faced with them. Declan, you must try to save yourself." CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Ma'el Report. Day 112,889 ...             For the first time Sinead is going against my wishes as well as all the dictates of good sense. Yesterday at Declan's urging I had agreed to allow the wagon to fall behind the rest of the caravan in the hope that the robbers would either not see us or dismiss our single vehicle as unimportant, but later she insisted on rejoining the caravan as quickly as possible.             "During the night drive to do so, and between short periods of sleep; she continually studied what she still calls the magic chart and became increasingly agitated. She asserts that unless we catch up with the caravan by sunrise, Declan will die; and unless I use a greater magic than any she has seen me use before, he will die. The concern she displayed for his welfare appeared to be more personal than that previously shown, and I wondered if she might be manifesting the emotional responses that could lead to the inception of a rudimentary form of timesight.             'To test this theory I asked her what kind of magic she thought I could use. She replied that she did not know, but that on the few occasions she had been sleeping she had seen something terrible in her dreams, something falling from the sky that had screamed and thundered and resembled a monstrous insect with great, shining red eyes. She said that it looked worse than the worst nightmares of her childhood but that, strangely, it did not frighten her. Then she said that I should not listen to her bizarre dreams and apologized for wasting my time.             "Shortly afterward I decided to place my thundering and screaming monster on low orbital standby ..." -             The fast gallop along the length of the camel train that Declan had been expecting was reduced to a gentle trot because Bashir found difficulty, in spite of the blasphemously colorful language he was using, making the camel drivers and their few unmounted guards flee as he wanted. The result of their slow progress was that the relief force he was telling them about, Mareth's bowmen, were already coming into sight at a slow, steady run. Bashir and he were about halfway along the camel train when the first arrows began falling around them.             "Don't concern yourself," said Bashir, breaking off his shouted directions to the nearest camel driver. "The remainder of my men are trying to keep them occupied up there so as to give some of the criminal train a chance to escape, but those bowmen are at extreme range and they are shooting in hope rather than with the expectation of hitting anything. It is a criminal waste of arrows. If Mareth was in charge of them he would leave them speaking in women's voices and incapable of fathering children."             Declan laughed and they trotted past three more heavily laden beasts while Bashir shouted to the drivers that they should urge their mounts to all possible speed and scatter across the open land approaches to the caravanserai so as to make it more difficult for any robbers who might chase them. During the next interval between camels, Bashir spoke to him again.             "It was a pleasure and an education fighting beside you, Declan," he said, pointing toward the other end of the camel train. "There is nothing more you can do here, so leave before a chance arrow finds you. Ride back to your master's wagon and ... What's wrong?"             Declan had looked in the direction of Bashir's pointing finger, and the sight had made him swear long and luridly. He did not know what Ma'el's translation charm around his neck was making of the Gaelic words, but Bashir was looking impressed.             "My master is what's wrong," he replied furiously, "or rather he and the other servant have done a stupid thing. After I advised them and they agreed, to stay far behind the caravan, they have rejoined the end of it. How can a great and wise magician be so utterly dim-witted at times?"             "Then ride ahead and join him at once," said Bashir. He swiveled in his saddle and called back, "Mareth, take your bowmen to that wagon at the end and help defend it." In a quieter voice he went on, "We will have to make a stand somewhere, so whatever force remains to me will help you for as long as we are able. That much, at least, we owe you. And if your master is a great magician ..." his tone became skeptical, "... he may have a spell that will save us. Ride now."             As he galloped closer to the wagon Declan could see Ma'el and Sinead on the driving bench and that the horse, like the majority of the camels he had passed, was unharmed in spite of the arrows flying around them. It seemed that in this land the lives of heavy pack animals were of much more value than those of the servants who drove them so that a camel or a horse would not be deliberately killed. But the thought of Sinead and Ma'el lying riddled with arrows or their bodies hacked to pieces with scimitars did nothing to improve his temper.             "Whose stupidity was this?" he shouted as he pulled his horse to a standstill level with them. "We agreed that you would stay well behind the caravan, out of sight of the robbers, where I might have joined you later. That way we all would have been safe ..."             "You would not have been safe!" Sinead broke in. "On the chart we saw the absurdly small party that set out from the caravanserai to rescue us, with your white horse and your cloak showing bravely as you rode to join them. Stupid yourself. I asked Ma'el to rejoin the caravan to try and save your stupid life, and he said that for my sake he would try ..."             "Then my thanks to you both," he broke in. With an edge of anger still in his voice he looked at Ma'el and went on, "but your nobility is going to get all of us killed. Master, we are fighting, or rather defending ourselves against hopeless odds and ..."             An arrow thudded into the driving bench a few inches from Ma'el's hip. He looked up at the high ground whence it had come and his expression was that of a general calmly studying the tactical situation on a battlefield. Then he rose unhurriedly to his feet and inclined his head gently as he moved aside the curtain behind him.             "I must leave you now," he said, "because there are small course and distance adjustments I must make. Pass the word that I am about to produce a work of great and terrifying magic. They will better understand you if you use their own words and refer to it as a djinn, but that, appearances to the contrary, it will not harm the men of the camel train or our defenders in any way ..."             "What kind of djinn?" Declan broke in. "There isn't time for magical tricks ..."             "... Some little time will elapse before it arrives," he went on as if Declan had not spoken, "so Sinead and yourself must try to stay alive lest my considerable efforts on your behalf are wasted."             Another arrow hit the curtain of skins he had just pulled shut behind him. It bounced away and fell as if it had struck a rock. Declan pointed at the curtain and said, "I don't suppose ...?"             Sinead shook her head. "Ma'el allows nobody to see inside. Nobody."             "Then hide under the wagon," he said. "You should be safe from the arrows there."             "What about you?" she asked.             "It would not be fitting," Declan replied as he unlimbered his long-axe, "for me to hide under a wagon."             Before she could reply, Bashir rode up with Mareth's bowmen running close behind him. He waved his scimitar at the groups of the enemy soldiers moving down the slopes towards them.             'They must have believed our lie that more men are coming to our aid," he said, "because their intention now seems to be to attack and cut out this end of the caravan before our imaginary reinforcements arrive, so this is where the battle will end. We need all the fighters we can get, skilled or otherwise ..." he glanced at Sinead, "... so give the boy a weapon."             "She is a healer," said Declan, stressing the first word, "and has forsworn all acts of violence."             "A female healer," said Bashir, showing his teeth briefly. "That explains your anxiety to rejoin your master and, of course, his other servant. But no matter. Give her a sword anyway. If nothing else she may want to fall on it rather than let this bunch of two-legged jackals take her."             He wheeled his horse and went galloping toward the nearest group of the enemy who were charging down on them. Unsheathing his gladius, Declan grasped it carefully by the tip and extended the hilt toward Sinead. She looked very seriously at him as she took it, but before she could speak he fastened the retaining strap of the long-axe tightly around his wrist because he would need to use it one-handed. Without another word he urged his mount forward to follow and draw level with Bashir.             Of the horsemen who had set out from the caravanserai, only Bashir and Declan remained mounted and those on foot, including Mareth's bowmen, numbered less than twenty with the number diminishing with every moment that passed. Because they were the only two mounted targets on their side, the opposing bowmen were giving them most of their attention so that the arrows were whispering past them thick and fast. Declan waved at Bashir and pointed at the largest and closest group of the enemy, three mounted men surrounded by a handful of others keeping pace with them on foot, and propelled the horse forward with a slap on its rump. Bashir nodded, showing his teeth again in a ferocious smile as he took the new direction.             He could not speak for Bashir, Declan told himself, but his action was not especially brave nor stupid. It was simply that with the number of arrows being aimed in his direction, he thought that a safer place to be was in the middle of the enemy group where the bowmen would be hampered by their unwillingness to risk rutting their friends. Bashir might have had the same thought, but the likelihood was that the other was braver than he was and less thoughtful.             As the enemy group came charging down the slope Bashir, being careful to stay out of range of his swinging axe, and Declan rode up to meet them. Used one-handed, the long-axe was not a precise weapon, so he had decided to swing it as wide and fast as he could in a continuous figure-of-eight while he leaned as far as he could to each side and straightening up between swings so that the shaft would not hit his mount's head. Two very brave and unthinking swordsmen tried to attack simultaneously from both flanks. One of them had his scimitar raised to make a jabbing strike upward at Declan's stomach when the twin points of the axe caught and ran down the other's blade to shatter the hilt and make a bloody ruin of the hand holding it. The man screamed and staggered backward out of range. When the swing continued on the other side, that enemy tried to drop below the level of the axehead, no doubt intending to slash upward at Declan's legs or body when it had gone safely past. But he did not duck low enough and his burnoose was suddenly a blood-soaked rag.             While Declan was still extricating the weapon to begin another swing, one of the opposing horsemen was suddenly on top of him, raising his scimitar so high that he must have intended to cut the Hibernian vertically in two. For an instant he thought of letting go of the axe handle and rolling off the horse, then swore as he remembered that the weapon was fastened securely to his wrist. He raised his free hand in a desperate attempt to push the descending blade sideways and away from him.             Then suddenly the heavy blade was falling, not on Declan but tumbling to the ground, and there was an arrow protruding from the swordsman's right eye. The man rolled off his horse, beating at the sides of his head with both fists. As Declan straightened himself in the saddle and began swinging his axe again, another arrow tugged at his cloak. He wondered briefly whether it had been the marksmanship of one of Mareth's men or the bad aim of an enemy that had saved him.             The remaining three swordsmen on foot had withdrawn out of range of his axe while the others nearby, two of whom carried bows, were running closer. Bashir was engaging one of the two remaining horsemen, their swords clashing together with a sound reminiscent of a busy smithy. The other horseman, who was also staying out of range, was trotting around Declan in a wide circle. Suddenly he stopped, beckoned to one of the running bowmen and shouted for the other to mount behind him. Declan thought quickly, decided that a mounted bowman would be a greater threat than the other one and the swordsmen on the ground.             He urged his mount forward, attempting to time his arrival when the horseman would be helping the bowmen into the second saddle behind him and for a moment both would be preoccupied. With his long-axe blade making a wide, glittering circle around his head, he had almost reached them when the second bowman who, either because his aim was poor or he wasn't an animal lover, sent an arrow deep into his horse's throat. The animal gave an almost human squeal of pain as it reared suddenly and twisted to one side, unseating him. He managed to swing the axe groundward and used it to break his fall. Even so he landed heavily on his side and for a moment he was too shaken to move. The cautious swordsmen were again closing on him, weapons raised, when he struggled onto his knees and began swinging the long-axe again. The axehead caught the wrist of one of them and knocked the legs from under another before they withdrew.             Suddenly he felt a sharp blow and a burning pain in the back of his leg just above the top of his thigh boot and stared disbelievingly at the arrow that was sticking in him. Still swinging the axe around his head, Declan followed its direction of flight back to the bowman on the ground who was also kneeling and nocking another arrow. Just before he judged the other was about to loose it, he flung himself sideways so that the arrow caught him in the shoulder instead of the middle of his chest. But at the same time another arrow, loosed by the newly-mounted bowman who was closer and shooting down from saddle height, took him in the side, then the stabbing pain as another two in quick sucession struck his buttock and just below his hip. He swore because for some reason he could neither push himself upright nor grip the handle of his axe. More swordsmen were closing in, weapons raised to finish him off.             But they remained upraised because suddenly there was a peal of thunder from directly overhead, followed by a bloodcurdling sound that was something between a continuous shriek and the hissing of a thousand serpents, and everyone was looking up at the nightmarish thing that was dropping on them out of the sky.             For a moment they remained paralyzed with fear, then they dropped their weapons and ran back up the slope screaming to each other that a terrible djinn was coming to eat them all.             The monster looked like a gigantic, fat-bellied insect with large holes in its body that showed the sky above and behind it. A mass of thin, spidery legs, some with strange, glittering objects at their ends, sprouted from the body in all directions, but the most frightful feature of all, because the screaming and hissing sounds seemed to be coming from them, were the two enormous, blazing eyes. The thing dropped lower and lower until it was drowning out the cries of the fleeing enemy, then it rose quickly and there was another crack of thunder as it disappeared into a widening circle of blue light in a sky that to Declan seemed to be growing dimmer by the moment.             His wounds were no longer hurting and he was sure that his eyes were open even though he wasn't seeing anything, but he could still hear. Sinead was bending close over him, calling him stupid and using swear words ill-becoming to a young woman, and Ma'el was speaking quietly to Bashir.             He said, 'The djinn will not return if our attackers do not do so, and that is unlikely. I suggest that you gather your surviving force and use it to escort the camel train to the caravanserai while we remain here with my wagon, for there are many matters to which 1 must attend. Please do that now."             "At once, Magi," said Bashir, his voice soft and heavy with feeling. "But first there is the matter of payment for our services. Declan said you would agree to pay whatever the cost might be. But I can assure you, on behalf of my master, that after all that has transpired here you have incurred no debt. In fact, we are indebted to you. 1 shall return the sword, which Declan bore with honor and courage, to my master, but there is a favor that I would ask for myself. It is that I be allowed to take his ferocious long-axe, not to be used because I have not the ability, but to place it in a position of honor in memory of a great warrior who ..."             "No!" Sinead broke in sharply. "It is his favorite weapon and he might want to use it again."             Bashir was silent for a moment, then in a gentle voice he said, "I think I understand. I suspect that you have strong feelings for him, as I think he does for you, and you do not want to believe that you will lose him. But, young woman, if you can wrestle Death Himself for this man and win, then you are indeed a healer."             Declan felt himself being moved back to the wagon on a litter that felt as if it was floating on air, then hearing as well as sight left him. The last thing he remembered feeling was a sudden explosion of intense cold. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR Ma'el Report. Day 113,062 ...             I am increasingly concerned about the way I continue to reveal more and more Taelon technology to beings whose presently low levels of intelligence and culture might be seriously affected, if not destroyed, by it. As a planetary investigator my behavior in this matter will be considered reprehensible by the Synod. My only defense, which is a scientifically unsatisfactory one even to me, is that up to now both of them have demonstrated a flexibility of mind which suggests that they will be able to adapt to the new situation without mental damage. Nor, 1 feel sure, will they pass on the knowledge they have discovered to others of their species if I request otherwise, so that a complete obliteration of their memories can be avoided.             "I am at a loss to understand my growing emotional attachment where these two subjects are concerned. It is a recent development because, during the Finisterre.incident, I was willing to sacrifice their lives and those of the others on board Orla to the attacking Romans. But it was the quick and original thinking of Sinead, with minimal assistance from me, that saved everyone's lives.             "There have been other instances of unusual and even intuitive thinking from both of my servants and it is these abilities of which I will be able to make use. My lengthy separation from the main body of the Commonality has caused my timesight to diminish, and I shall be forced to abandon my investigation if I cannot develop a local source of accurate precognition. That is the primary reason why so much of our technology is being revealed and used in order to keep Sinead and Declan alive. I still have hopes of her acquiring a dependable timesight faculty.             "If they prove to be forlorn hopes then I will be forced reluctantly to wipe their minds clean and look elsewhere." -             He felt cold, colder than he had ever felt before or would have believed it possible to feel. With his teeth chattering uncontrollably he pushed himself up onto one elbow and opened his eyes to look around.             The awning of a tent was shading him from a sun that was reflecting off the rippled surface of a large, clear pool that lay a dozen paces away, and shining down on the thin, uneven carpet of short grass between the water's edge and the strange, pale gray litter on which he was lying. A hot but gentle breeze was warming his face and bringing with it the scent of the few desert flowers that were pushing up through the short grass. For a moment Declan wondered if he had died and had awakened in Paradise, but he quickly discounted that idea for three reasons; he had never believed in any kind of heaven; his wounds were still hurting; and Sinead was on her knees beside him observing unnecessarily that he was awake at last.             "I'm c-cold," he said, still looking around him. He saw that they were in a narrow ravine with an uneven, grassy floor. The horse and wagon were about twenty paces behind him and Ma'el was looking down at them from the driving bench. "What happened? How did I get here?"             "Your body is still thawing out," she replied, "and Ma'el says you will be warm again very soon. So ease your mind, save your strength, and don't tire yourself asking questions that I'm about to answer. Lie down again, onto the same side because that's the only part of you that wasn't punctured with arrows. I cut the shafts away as close as possible to the entry wounds, but the heads are still in you. They were barbed and will have to be cut out carefully rather than being pulled out so as to avoid causing even more damage. Do you think you can hold still without fidgeting while I'm doing that?"             Declan stifled a groan as he lowered his raised shoulder back to the litter, discovering that his body was covered by one thin and impossibly white sheet and nothing else. At least he wouldn't have to suffer her pulling off his tunic and boots because that had already been done.             "Yes," he said.             "Good," she replied, folding back the sheet. "And it would make you feel more comfortable if you don't try to look at what I'll be doing to you. Weil start with the easy ones, the hip and buttock wounds ..."             He fixed his eyes on what from his position was the vertical edge of the pool and did not reply because his teeth were already clenched. He felt her fingers pressing gently around the wound in his buttock, then the sting of two short, deep cuts on opposite sides of the arrowhead, then it being moved gently from side to side and drawn out. She transferred her attention to the hip wound and he tensed, knowing now what pain to expect. Her voice was brisk, confident, and reassuring as she went on talking, but there was an undertone of concern in it that made him wonder if she thought she was working on a body that was expected soon to die.             "... I shall allow the wounds to bleed themselves clean for a few moments before I stitch, cover, and bind them," she said, tossing the bloody arrowheads onto the ground close to his face. "Do you want to keep those in memory of your battle?"             "No," said Declan firmly, "I hate the sight of blood ..." he tried to laugh but instead the body movement made him gasp in pain, "... especially my own."             "I hate the sight of your blood, too," she said, and added quickly, "or anyone else's. We owe a lot to Padraig of Cashel; his leather tunic stopped the arrows from penetrating deeply. Now for the shoulder. Your muscles are like rocks. It will come out easier if you let the arm go limp. But to return to your earlier questions, after Ma'el's djinn frightened off the raiders, he moved you into his wagon and put you into what he called hibernation anaesthesia ..."             "What's that?"             "... I asked the same question," she went on, "and he said cold sleep. I haven't seen inside his wagon. What's it like?"             "I don't know," said Declan. "I was sleeping, remember."             "You sarcastic son of a..." Sinead began angrily, then she shook her head and went on in a voice filled with growing wonder, "Indeed you were. For nearly four months you were sleeping while Ma'el used the large and two of the smaller djinns, he calls them soft-landed sensors, to seek out the medical knowledge that was needed. The big djinn is the one that usually remains very high and sends down the pictures to the magic chart. It found the libraries in Athens, Rome, Alexandria, and one in Xian in Far Cathay, and another in a vast country that nobody knows about where they make human sacrifices to a god called Huitzilopochtl so that he will allow the sun to rise each morning, but they have great knowledge about the internal arrangement of bones and organs and the workings of our bodies.             "The two small djinns that live in the big one's belly," she rushed on, "came down at night to look at the scrolls and pictures and send all they saw to Ma'el's chart for us to study. Sometimes it was difficult for their long, iron fingers to find and open the books at the right place, and scrolls were knocked from the shelves, but the disturbance was usually blamed on robbers. Once Ma'el had to find and question a scholar through a small djinn which he used to make the other believe was the manifestation of a strange god. But he gave us the knowledge I needed ..."  .             "Wait," said Declan weakly, shaking his head and immediately regretting it because his shoulder muscle also moved. "What are you talking about? Where is this place, what has happened apart from djinns coming and going, what knowledge are you talking about, and why do you need it?"             She continued answering him quietly while she eased the arrowhead out of his shoulder and threw it away so violently that it might have been a disgusting reptile. She left the wound to bleed for a few moments while she returned her attention to the other two, pressing them closed with gentle fingers before stitching their edges together and covering them with pads, soaked in something that smelled strongly, that were held in position with firm bindings.             They were not very far from the scene of the battle, she told him, and when Ma'el had told Bashir that the wagon would remain behind for a while he had told the truth without being accurate about the exact duration. With the help of the chart their master had found a suitable ravine, moved the wagon into it, and performed a spell to ensure that nobody would ever stumble across it, or even see it or the comings and goings of the djinns that visited them regularly with charms that Ma'el said he needed. One of them had been a strange, glowing staff that he had pushed into the sand saying that it was drilling an opening into a stream that was flowing deep underground. When he removed the staff a few moments later, a spring of clear water had bubbled up to form the pool he could see beside them. Time and the dried-out but still-living seeds in the ground had produced the young grass and desert flowers that were growing all around them.             "Are you sure it's been that long since ...?" Declan began.             "You were cold sleeping," she answered shortly. "Weren't you listening to me? Now roll over a little onto your stomach, but without hurting your side. I have to work on the leg, now. The arrowhead went in behind and above the knee. There is an important vein there and I mustn't cut it when the barb is coming out ..."             "Why not?"             "Because you might bleed to death," she replied, "or end up with a wooden stump like Tomas the helmsman. Unfortunately there is none of Brian's wine to ease your hurting so I will understand if you make noises or use unseemly language. I would do both in your place. Just be sure to hold the leg steady while I'm working on it ..."             He began by biting his lower lip until he tasted his own blood and changed to clenching his teeth instead, but he did not make a sound. It seemed that she was spending a much longer time on the back of his leg than she had on the other wounds. He felt her fingers moving the barb back and forth by tiny amounts and sometimes twisting it before it was drawn out and he felt the gentler, regular pricking of the stitches that pulled the edges of the wound together. But at last he felt the firm binding being wound on and heard her sigh of relief.             "Good," she said. "Now for the side wound. Roll slowly back onto your other side and ... Your mouth is bleeding. Surely you're losing enough blood from other places without chewing off bits of your lip?"             "I was hungry," said Declan, forcing a smile. "I still am."             "And that's how you're going to stay," she said firmly. "How long is it since you ate anything, not counting the time you spent cold sleeping in the wagon?"             Declan thought for a moment. "At the caravanserai I was too tired to eat," he said, "and I overslept and had to leave quickly to catch up to Bashir's men and so missed breaking my fast. Since then there wasn't a chance to ... Please, I'm starving to death."             "That's good," she said looking relieved.             "That's cruel, heartless," he replied. "I tell you, my stomach thinks my throat's been cut ... What is that thing?"             "Another device of Ma'el's," she replied. "It resembles the chart except that instead of showing where we are it lets me see what is happening inside your body. Lift yourself, gently now, onto your elbow and look into it. Isn't it wonderful? My father would have sold his soul for a device like this. I may want you to hold it in position if I have to use both hands."             It was a flat, square box more than a hand's length on the side and no thicker than a man's index finger. Instead of a motionless picture the upper surface of the box showed a landscape that seemed to be in regular, twitching motion. Bright and clear at its center was the short length of arrow and barb penetrating his flesh while around and behind it there were many thick and thin lines, which from the operation of Tomas's leg he recognized as veins, and even thicker masses that curled about each other in a wet, slippery tangle.             "It's horrible, disgusting," he said, easing his good side back onto the litter. "My belly looks like it's full of serpents."             "Hopefully they are empty serpents," said Sinead, "and ensuring that they remain that way is what may keep you alive. If the subject doesn't disgust you too much, would you like to know why?"             "Yes," he said. "You talking about it is better than me having to watch it. But why are you always angry with me? I haven't done anything to deserve it, especially not to you."             She hesitated for a moment while looking at him with a strange and very serious expression, and Declan had the feeling that when she spoke the words were not those she had originally intended to say. "You make me angry because you give me so many wounds to treat, and because most of them are yours.             "The snakes inside your belly are in fact a long, continuous tube," she went on before he could reply, "which takes out the good part of the food you eat and allows the poisonous waste that remains to be passed out of your back passage as excrement. The arrowhead made a small cut in this tube and it may have allowed a quantity of the fecal matter to leak and gradually find its way into the rest of your body. If that happened you would die, just the way that young boy shot with a poisoned arrow died on the ship. The fact that you haven't eaten for a long time, and will not be allowed to eat until the cut in the tube is healed, is good because the amount of poison in there should be small.             "Now I'll need both hands for the next part," she added, "so hold the seeing box over the wound, just here. That's it."             Again he gritted his teeth as the arrowhead moved from side to side and was coaxed. The pain eased as he felt but did not see a warm trickle run down and onto his stomach.             "And now," he said through dry lips, "you're letting it bleed clean?"             "No," she said, bending low over him. "This one will need more than that."             Declan felt her fingers pressing and pulling the wound open, then her lips being placed around it and the painful but strange sensation of the blood and he knew not what other poisons being sucked out. After a moment she raised her head, spat onto the ground, and bent over the wound again.             "Wait!" he said urgently. 'That is stupid. If the blood is poisoned you shouldn't be ..."             "Stupid yourself," she said angrily, "I'm not stupid enough to swallow it!" She continued the process for what seemed to Declan to be a long time even though the tiny movement of the sun's shadow indicated otherwise, before she straightened up and said, 'That should do it. Any more of that and I'll end up sucking you inside out. I'm going to close and cover the wound now. After what has gone before it won't hurt you much. This has gone well, Declan, but now you must try to ease your mind, cover your body again, and let yourself sleep."             "I don't want to sleep," he said. "I want to talk."             "What about?" she said.             He remained silent until she had finished binding the wound and returned from the pool where she had rinsed out her mouth with cupped handfuls of clear water, washed the blood off her lips, and splashed some of it onto the back of her neck. From the sight of her perspiring face he realized that the sun must be hot even though he himself was just beginning to feel warm.             "About you," he said, "and why, after all you've just done, you're angry with me? You would be nicer to the horse if it had been wounded by arrows." -             "Yes," she said, "because the horse wouldn't talk back to me. Please change the subject ..."             She broke off suddenly to bend over him again, one hand going to his forehead and the other resting lightly on his chest. Muttering to herself, she moved to the opposite end of the litter and lifted it from the ground, unfolding a support that kept it in that position. Declan chose his words carefully and was surprised by his teeth chattering when he spoke.             "I'm not c-calling you stupid," he said, "but what h-healer's reason had you for t-tilting my feet up?"             "Because you're growing cold," she said, "and sweating, and your heart is beating fast but weakly. I was afraid of this happening. Despite your physical strength, the pain and duration of the surgery is sending you into shock. The treatment for shock, which is agreed upon by stupid healers from Hibernia to Cathay, is to elevate the feet so that the blood your heart is able to pump goes to your chest and brain where it is most needed. You must also be kept warm ..."             She fell silent because Ma'el, whose hearing must have been very good, arrived beside her carrying another one of his strange, thin, but very warm blankets. She took it from him and draped it over Declan, tucking it around him as if he had been a child close to slumber while being careful not to press it against the underlying wounds. Ma'el spoke as soon as she was finished.             "Will he live?"             Sinead's face was angry, Declan saw, and her eyes were opening and closing rapidly. If he hadn't known her better he would have thought that she was blinking back tears.             "I don't know," she said. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Ma'el Report. Day 113,089 ...             My earlier fears about the effect of revealing Taelon science to the female Sinead have proved groundless. She is both mentally flexible and pragmatic to a high degree, and shows no fear of what she still calls Taelon magic and, even though she cannot understand its workings, she insists that if she is properly instructed in its use there should be nothing for her to fear. Declan is still uneasy about what they refer to as the smaller djinns that land from time to time with information and supplies, but he will not allow himself to show fear when Sinead is so obviously not afraid. The magic Sinead most desires and persistently requests is that which I cannot provide, a means that will enable Declan to recover from his wounds and continue living.             "Following her confused forecast of the arrival of the first djinn which ended the ambush of the caravan in our favor, I had hopes that she was at last developing the pre-cognitive faculty, but since then she has shown no other indications of possessing the time sense in spite of me questioning her closely regarding her dreams and the suppressed memories from her childhood. She cooperated fully in this interrogation even though the process was emotionally painful for her, but suggests respectfully that I am wasting my time.             "It now seems certain that the concealed and protected environment that I provided here was a wasted effort. My behavior toward them and the emotional attachment I have developed for these two members of a planetary population under investigation is lax and unprofessional in the extreme, and the fact that there was a possibility of the female developing timesight is no excuse, and neither are the increasing feelings of loneliness and lack of support engendered by my self-imposed withdrawal from the Commonality.             "When my male servant, the brave and resourceful Declan, expires as it seems he must, I shall reluctantly dispense with Sinead and install her comfortably in a place and among people of her own choosing, after which I shall seek out another female who with treatment will be able to see into this world's future.             "That has become a matter of great urgency." -             With the sheet pushed down to his waist, Declan was half lying, half sitting on the litter that had been angled in the middle to form a legless chair. The tent awning shaded him from the sun and the gentle morning breeze, cooled slightly by its passage across the intervening water of the pool, fanned his hot, sweating face and upper body. Sinead placed her palm briefly on his forehead and it, too, was hot by the time she took it away.             "I don't understand this," she said, frowning. "Your shoulder and leg wounds, even the one in your side, have healed cleanly. All are being covered with healthy scar tissue. By rights you should be up and trying to walk."             "I did try to walk..." Declan began.             "Without me half carrying you," she went on. "Instead you are much weaker than you were after the battle, thinner in spite of the food I force into you, and with every few days a recurrent fever ..." she looked at the perspiration beading her palm, "... that is increasing in severity. The potions you have been given and the roots you chewed that are used in many countries to reduce such a fever do not affect you, or perhaps are affecting you too slowly. You are burning up. We must cool you down or you will die."             He stared at her serious, concerned face for a moment, trying to make it remain steady among all the distorted, feverish images that were dancing around the inside of the tent. It surprised him that he was still able to speak clearly.             "I'll drink more cold water."             "You couldn't drink enough," she replied, pulling off his sheet and pressing the indentations on the litter that returned it to its customary flat shape as well as making it float in the air. "Instead of putting the water into you I'm going to put you into the pool."             "Wait!" he cried, the very thought of it shocking him into sensibility. 'That's a horrible idea. I'm not a Druid like you, I've never bathed in a mountain pool ..."             "Try to be brave," she said scornfully. "You can survive it for a few moments. In we go."             "But you're going to bathe me," he said, "with all your clothes on. You'll catch an ague in wet garments and who will heal you? Or do you think ...? No, Sinead, even if I was fit and well again I would never be roused to a frenzy by a scrawny, flat-chested child, nor would I try to take advantage of..."             "Enough," she broke in. "Look the other way."             He did not look directly at her as she pulled off her boots and began to disrobe, but out of the corner of his eye he saw her end by removing a broad, tight binding from around her upper back and chest. No wonder, he thought, surprised, she had looked like a young boy. She would not meet his eyes when she turned to face him again, but instead busied herself with lowering the litter until it floated on the surface before wading with it down the steeply sloping sides of the pool until they were at its center where the water was up to her waist. She did not speak but it seemed that her face was red from more than the heat.             "You're not all that young," he said, trying very hard to look only at her face. "You're old, but small. And without those chest bindings you are ..."             "Such compliments," she said in a derogatory voice. "Scrawny and flat-chested, you said, and now old. Declan, have you ever won a woman with words, or first do you need to stun her with your long-axe?"             "Without them," he persisted, "you are slim and well-formed and pleasing to the eye and, and beautiful."             She inclined her head and was silent for a moment before she said thoughtfully, "That sounded better. There may be hope for you yet. Now hold your breath."             Her hands grasped the sides of the litter and pressed it under the surface. Heated by the desert sun as it was, the pool water was not cold, but against his burning skin it felt as though his body had been suddenly encased in a block of ice. Afraid of sinking deeper into it, his arms reached up instinctively and wrapped themselves around Sinead's neck. But she must have bent forward because he remained under for a long moment before she again raised the litter to the surface where he caught his breath and released his hold on her. Without mentioning the arms that had come close to strangling her, she placed a hand on his forehead.             "Better," she said, "but you're still too warm. I'm going to leave you alone for a while to try cooling yourself, by putting your hands and arms underwater or by sprinkling your body with it whenever you feel it necessary."             "Where are you going?" he asked, suddenly afraid of being abandoned. "I didn't mean to hurt you."             'To enjoy myself," she replied, smiling, "and you didn't."             In the event Declan did not have to sprinkle himself because Sinead was doing it for him as she swam in tight circles around the litter, sometimes diving under it and then surfacing with a great splash, or beating at the water enthusiastically with hands and feet. She was indeed enjoying herself to such an extent, that Declan wondered if there was still a lot of the child's mind inside that young woman's body. He was sorry when the watery disturbance settled and she swam over to feel his forehead again.             "Much better, but still too warm," she said, and dragged the litter to the sandy edge of the pool and across to the shade of the tent awning. "Here the breeze will dry off your wet body and cool you even more by evaporation. If you become too cold, use the blanket, and if the fever comes back we'll try the pool again." She moved a few paces beyond the tent and turned her back. "I must dress myself now."             Declan knew that he should have turned his attention to the wagon or the tent awning or his own dripping and unsightly body, but he would have felt both dishonest and stupid if he refused himself the chance to look at the only object of true beauty in the ravine.             "You have no need of that wrapping around you," he said. "It will make your breast flat again, but I will know what it hides and you will feel only its heat and discomfort."             "It is irksome," she said in grudging agreement, letting the binding fall to the ground and pulling on her burnoose.             "Your hair is long," he said, "and beautiful. There is the darkness of a starless night on it. You should not crush such hair into a ball to hide it under your helmet. We have no need of helmets in this place."             She didn't reply, but instead ran her opened fingers through the damp hair, spreading it out over her back and shoulders for quicker drying in the sun before she turned to face him. Her expression was thoughtful, and wary.             "Declan," she said, "the cold bathing seems to have worked wonders for your manners as well as reducing the fever, for suddenly your compliments are worthy of the silver tongue of Brian O'Rahailley himself. But his were usually bestowed with a selfish end in view and, well, I think I preferred it when your words were unmannerly but more honest.             "I must speak with Ma'el, now," she ended, "and light the cooking fire. Keep the blanket around you, lie still, and try to rest."             A few moments after she left him he did as he was told, but not before he sat up, rolled onto his hands and knees, and tried to climb to his feet with only partial success, and he came close to fainting while he was half crawling the short distance along the ravine to where they relieved themselves. It took all of his strength to cover his results with sand. He could not believe how weak he had become during the past few days and he was glad to roll back onto the litter and pull the blanket around him.             It was dusk when he wakened with his shoulder being shaken and Sinead demanding that he eat and drink some of the water with her foul-tasting herbs in it. He did try but she insisted that a hungry lark would have eaten more and that he should go back to sleep.             It was still night when next he wakened, shivering and with his limbs shaking so much that the sheet threatened to slip from his body. The lamp was turned down and the dividing screen had been partially removed in case he needed attention. He could barely see the muffled form of Sinead, who was sleeping with head, hands, and feet drawn inside her burnoose. He pulled the sheet tightly around himself and clenched his teeth to stop their chattering because he did not want to waken her or bear the brunt of her tongue if he did.             "I'm not sleeping," she said quietly as if reading his mind. "What's wrong with you? Has the fever returned?"             "N-no," he replied. "I c-cold."             In a moment, Sinead had the lamp turned up and she was kneeling beside him; her hand went to his forehead before slipping under the sheet to rest briefly on his chest and the upper muscle of his arm. Then she stood up quickly, turned and upended the bag that contained his clothing and emptied it onto the ground. Choosing his own burnoose and the bloodstained cloak, she spread them over him and waited for what seemed like a long time before speaking again.             "You are indeed cold," she said, again laying a hand on his chest. "In fact, your muscles were tightening and threatening to go into a rigor. Do you feel any warmer now?"             "I-I don't th-think so," he said through chattering teeth even though her palm felt like a hot poultice pressing on his icy skin. "I-I'm colder."             "There is no time to build a fire," she said in a quiet, serious voice, "and you could not get close enough to it without scorching yourself. I have to make you warm again or you will die ..."             For the second time in a day he saw her pull off her burnoose, but this time instead of dropping it to the sand she spread it over him.             "... Turn onto your side," she went on briskly, "so I can lie close against your back. And Declan, behave yourself."             For an instant there was a blast of cold air as she opened the covers, then he felt the wonderfully hot contours of her body pressing against his back and leg while a warm arm tightly encircled his waist. He did not try to say anything because his teeth were chattering and he did behave himself because, difficult as it was for him to believe, he was sharing the blankets with a comely young woman and all he wanted from her was her body's warmth. He did not tell her that because to a young woman the words might not have been complimentary.             Dawn was showing through the fabric of the tent and bleaching out the lamplight by the time he stopped shivering and began to feel really warm, so much so that he was perspiring again. He felt Sinead waken and her hand slide briefly across his wet chest, then heard her say something very unladylike before she rose, pulled on her burnoose and left the tent. A moment later she was back with Ma'el's inner-body-seeing charm and a pitcher of cold water.             "What's wrong with you?" she said in a worried, exasperated voice. "Last night you were freezing to death and now you're burning with fever again. Drink as much of this as you can and sprinkle yourself with the rest until I can douse you in the pool again. But first let me look at your wounds. Turn onto your good side."             She talked quietly to herself while she was examining the places where arrows had pierced his leg and shoulder, pronouncing them healing cleanly and well. But the one just above his hip, while it had closed over and knitted to her satisfaction, was surrounded by an area of deep pink inflammation. The cause, according to the deep picture that Ma'el's charm was showing her, was a large, pus-filled abscess growing on the wall of the bowel where the arrowhead had nicked it. If it were to burst, which it might do soon, and flood through his body, her patient would quickly die.             "I'm sorry, Declan," she continued speaking to him rather than to herself, "I must cut into you again. Deeply." CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX             The sun was still low in the sky by the time Sinead had immersed him several times in the pool and pulled his litter back to the sandy bank where her instruments, bowls, boiled cloths, and several short lengths of rope lay spread out on a sheet ready for use. Declan felt cooled by the bathing but it was not the icy, breath-stopping cold that had gripped him during the previous night. Sinead shivered in the cool, morning breeze, then dressed herself quickly and knelt beside the litter and raised it a short distance above the sand before speaking.             "Please lie on your good side," she said, selecting a length of rope and passing it around his body and the underside of the litter as she spoke. "I am going to tie down your chest, waist, thighs, and lower legs so that, in the event that you have another rigor, you won't be able to move and perhaps cause me inadvertently to cut you in the wrong place. I will leave your arm free so that you may assist me by holding the deep-body-seer in position, but in case you have a serious tremor and lose control of it, I will place a noose around your wrist so that I can pull down the arm and secure it to the litter and proceed unaided unless ..." she raised her voice slightly, "., . Ma'el decides to help me."             The old man had left the wagon and was walking toward them. They both knew that Ma'el had keen ears and would have heard her, but when he stopped beside them he made no mention of her words. Sinead tried again.             "With respect, Ma'el," she said, "surely you have it in your power to help Declan. Some magical device or potion, perhaps, that will remove this sac of poison and .'.."             "You have mentioned this matter to me earlier this day," the old man broke in gently, "and my answer then as now is no. Believe me, there is a strong reason why I will not provide medication for one of your people's bodies. I have given away many of the secrets of my own people and done things to yours in the hope of providing you, and myself, with a timesight into your world's future. I thought that your forecast of the arrival of the djinn was an early demonstration of the faculty, but continuing timesight you could not give me."             "I'm sorry that I disappointed you," she said, "because I owe you much ..."             "Do not be sorry," he broke in. "You are not responsible for the physical and emotional damage that was done to you, or for the sexual negativity that resulted over which you have no control. So clear your mind, and allow mine to aid yours in the only way it can, by wishing you sharp eyes and steady hands.             "If Declan is not to die this day," he ended quietly, "it is your skill alone that will make him live."             In the short but seemingly endless time that followed, Declan thought that he suffered twice, once because he had already undergone this cutting and knew what to expect, and again when it was happening but taking much longer. But his muscles did not lock in a rigor as he held Ma'el's device steady above Sinead's gentle, precise hands, and his body remained still and unflinching without help from the ropes. Deliberately he did not look at her in case that would be a distraction and instead looked into the eyes of the watching Ma'el, which were so dark and deep that he did not know whether they were empty of feeling or showing too much of it for him to read. While he did not watch Sinead, he knew exactly what she was doing from moment to moment because she talked about it continuously in a quiet, competent voice.             He thought this might have been the teaching method of her dead healer father while demonstrating to his young apprentice daughter, and perhaps she was hoping that he might be watching her from somewhere and approving.             A triangular incision had been made and below it she had cut out a cone-shaped hollow that revealed and gave access to the abscess at its point. It was large, bulging, and covered by a thick skin that would have ruptured and spread poison throughout his body very soon. The skin was pierced, but only enough to introduce the cleaned quill that enabled most of the poison to be sucked out, then it was widened to remove the rest of it until her eye and Ma'el's device showed that no more remained. As much of the emptied abscess shell as it was safe to removeâ??part of it was adhering to the bowel wallâ??was cut away. For several moments the wound was allowed to bleed clean, then it was packed with herbs that would promote healing and a flamwort to reduce inflammation before she inserted a drain, closed up, and finally looked at his face.             "Declan," she said, "you are a strong, stubborn, and brave man. You did not move and neither did you cry out, even though I would have thought none the less of you if you had done both, many times. But now you can be at ease, it is over and it went well. Close your eyes and let sleep take you."             His eyes were already closing so that he felt only a tired surprise when she bent forward and touched her lips lightly to his forehead.             It took many weeks before a steadily increasing appetite caused the thin, knobbled sticks that were his arms and legs to thicken again with firm, healthy flesh and muscle. Gradually he became able to walk unaided about the ravine and even climb its rocky walls and, best of all, to splash daily in the pool. When he watched her it was evident that Sinead, too, enjoyed using the pool, but he doubted that she derived as much pleasure from watching him, and there was some invisible and unspoken constraint that kept them from swimming in it together. Their words to each other were more polite than they had ever been, but neither of them seemed to say anything of importance and he could not find the words he wanted to speak. Without making any mention of the situation between his servants, Ma'el said that he was pleased that Declan was returning to full health, and the hints that he dropped about them soon continuing their journey to Cathay became less gentle with each passing day.             At night Sinead continued her recent habit of leaving the tent's dividing curtain open but only by enough, she said, for her to know at once if he was having a feverish relapse. Declan felt so well that he did not think that would happen and he could not understand why she did not think so, too. Yet every night when his eyes were closed and he was pretending to sleep, he could feel her eyes watching him until he opened his whereupon she would close hers. It was like some stupid, childish game that increasingly angered and disturbed him until one night he could stand it no longer.             "Sinead," he said quietly, raising himself onto one elbow, "I know you are not asleep."             "I'm not," she agreed. "Have you a fever, a chill? What ails you?"             "I have no fever," he said, "nor am I cold. But I would like your body warm beside me again."             She sighed and seemed to pull herself more tightly into her burnoose as she said, "I have seen the way you look at me, not only when I'm bathing, and knew that soon you would ask that of me." She regarded him in silence for what seemed like a long time, then said, "The answer is no."             "1 do not like or want that answer," Declan said. He took a deep breath and went on, "Perhaps my manners are un-subtle and my words too direct. But even though they feel strange to me, my feelings for you are true and strong, stronger than any that I have ever known in my past violent and unruly life, and much too strong for me to want to risk hiding them behind pretty and, you might think, dishonest words meant only to sway you to my will. That is what I want to do, but there is much more that I want to do."             She looked at him, her expression serious but not angry, and did not speak.             "You are a woman and a gifted healer," he went on, speaking slowly and clearly as if he was instructing a child. "You are a woman who is graceful, comely of face, and with the beauty of form and person that all men desire but so few live to attain. You are a woman well taught in the healing arts in spite of your tender years, who is soft and gentle when gentleness is needed, and firm and direct in your encouragement when it is not. You are a woman with a lively wit and a mind that can accept, and even use, strange and fearful wonders that would drive another into gibbering madness. You are a ..."             A small hand appeared from her burnoose, palm held outward. There was an impatient edge to her tone as she said, "A woman. If I had not already known that I would of a certainty know it by now. Please, is there a point to these endless statements of fact that you are trying to make? And if your next weighty pronouncement is to be that you are a man, I know that, too."             "I am a man," he went on doggedly, "who has traveled with you and shared many strange and dangerous adventures with you over the course of half a year. When a man and woman are forced to be in each other's company for a lengthy period, I have been told, they grow either to hate or to love each other very much, and we have ..."             "Who told you this," she broke in, "your wise old father?"             "My father did not ever speak to me about such matters," he replied. "It was Brian who told me during the voyage to Alexandria, while we were sharing a night watch and he had grown tired of asking me about Ma'el's secrets and was being serious and philosophical rather than amusing. He also said that when women had the choice they rarely chose as their intended mates men who were charming or skilled with words. Instead they sought out husbands who would be strong and constant and capable of providing for and defending the home they would build and the children they would beget, rather than some charming weakling with winning ways and an endless store of pretty compliments.             "But 1 was saying," he went on, "that we began by hating each other from the first moment we met, until in time the hatred faded and, on my part at least, has changed to love. It is a love that disturbs and delights my sleep and, when I awaken unfulfilled, it puts an ache in my chest and a hunger in me that no herbs or food will ease, and whenever I look at you it makes the muscles of my hands and arms cramp with the effort of not reaching out to grasp you and hold your lovely body close and ... We have been near to each other and yet apart for a long time. On the ship when we worked on the leg of Tomas, and at other times, I thought that your hatred of me and what I am was fading, and surely your treatment of my wounds was not the act of a person who hated me. Have you none of these softer feelings for me, no smallest spark that with time and patience and continued pleading might be made to burn as fiercely as the fire that rages in me for you?"             She had closed her eyes while he was speaking. A moment passed before she opened them and said, "I am a small, weak, beautiful woman and you, you are what you are. What is to stop you taking me?"             "No!" said Declan fiercely. "I could take you, now and for many nights to come. You would bite and scratch and doubtless add more scars to this already scarred body, and the pleasure would far outweigh the pain. But I do not want to take you like that, not against your will, for that way you would really come to hate and despise me.             "Hatred is not what I want from you for the rest of my life."             Her eyes were closed again, tightly. She did not speak.             "I do not want to make you my property," he went on softly, "like a cloak or a pair of boots or something else of use or value that I have come to own. No, I am a man who would have died and who you made well and strong and vigorous again, so I and the rest of the life you have given me are your property, not mine."             Her eyes were open again, very wide, but still she did not speak.             "If you do not want this property," he went on, "if your answer is still no, then I must leave you, and quickly, lest my resolution and self-control fail me and my behavior becomes that of a rutting animal rather than a thinking man. When we reach the caravanserai and you and Ma'el continue the journey to Cathay, I shall ask to be released from his service and take employment as a guard on the next caravan returning to Alexandria, or wherever else fortune takes me. And if other women should come into my life, none of them will be the one I truly love ..."             Declan broke off. It was difficult to tell in the light of the dimmed lamp, but it seemed to him that her eyes were wet. He felt a small stirring of hope because he thought he might know the reason.             "I have never seen you show fear," he continued in a reassuring voice, "but you are very young and virginal and, as is natural, afraid of what I would do to youâ??"             "You are well experienced," she interrupted, "in deflowering virgins?"             The words were a stinging criticism but somehow her tone sounded sad and disappointed rather than angry. He shook his head firmly.             "I have not had that experience," he said. "But all women begin as virgins, and when I was much younger and a virgin myself, one of the nicer, motherly ones told me that it had been far from pleasant when it happened to her. Even though I would be as gentle as I am able, if you were to allow this to happen between us, I would hurt you, but only for the first time. After that ..."             "It hurt for the first, second, and third time," she broke in, her face dark with remembered pain and terror. "I was scarcely eleven summers when those three brave warriors came to loot our home and kill my family. They took their pleasure of me, thrice within the hour, and left laughing." Suddenly her voice was thick with shame and anger as she ended, "So you see, Declan, you must search farther for your first virgin."             He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly through his nose before he would trust himself to speak. "If ever I find your three brave warriors " he said, "the rest of their lives would be numbered in moments. But the gross dishonor that befell you is in the past and it is your future, hopefully our future years together that concerns me now. My feelings for you are                       But you know my feelings for you. Please come to me, or at least give me hope. Give me an answer other than no."             "Declan," she said, and the sheen of tears in her eyes was plain even in the dim lamplight, "you are a brave and resourceful warrior, noble and uncomplaining under pain, and in many other ways you have proved to be the gentlest of men. I have grown to admire you more and more over the past months and I too, have harbored feelings so fierce and strong that a young woman like myself should not dare to speak them aloud. But I keep trying to tease you, and test you for weaknesses where no weakness exists. But ..." suddenly she smiled "the answer is still no ..."             Slowly her slender arm reached upward to pull aside the curtain and Declan saw that she was lying under the burnoose but not wearing it, or anything else. The petals of many, sweet-smelling desert flowers lay under and around her.             "... But I ask with love that you should come to me." -             For the next four nights they slept closely together in the tent and wakened in the morning to bathe together in the pool, and during the daylight hours they were never far from each other. Ma'el, who had tact and a gentle understanding, remained in the wagon so that they had nothing to do but be with each other. Then early on the morning of the fifth day, Declan was awakened by Sinead who was trembling violently, bathed in sweat and with her arms locked so tightly around him that he could scarcely breathe. Before he could speak she was almost screaming at him.             "Declan!" she cried out before he could speak. "Please help me. Protect me from these horrible visions. They are of creatures of iron and smoke and great, screaming metal birds that take hundreds of people into their bellies before flying away with them. Save me Declan, I am losing my mind...!" CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN Ma'el Report. Day 112,138 ...             A physical and emotional coupling between my servants Sinead and Declan has taken place, but completely unexpected was her sudden acquisition of the timesight. The images that she foresees are terrifying herâ??they are so forward-reaching and clear in their implications that they frighten me as wellâ??so that I must work with the assistance of her mate to save her mind from becoming dysfunctional. If this is successfully accomplished there will, of course, be no need to replace them as servants, a fact which on a personal level pleases me very much.             "It has become apparent that if I am to make the maximum possible utilization of her new faculty, the remainder of the Taelon surface and orbiting technology, as well as a little about my purpose in coming to Earth, must now be revealed to them without further delay." -             As Ma'el sat down cross-legged under the tent awning, Declan thought, not for the first time, that for a man so ancient in years the other's thin body had a flexibility and ease of movement that rivaled his own. At his right, Sinead could not have been sitting closer to him, with an arm around his waist and hanging on so tightly that the sand under them might have been water in which she was afraid of drowning. She released her grip when Ma'el inclined his head and looked at her.             'That is not necessary," he said gently. "During the words that I must say to you, a close physical as well as the emotional contact that exists between Declan and yourself will be a reassurance for both of you. Now, please believe me when I say that there is nothing in your mind that can harm you because the things that you have seen are far away and have not happened yet, nor will they happen in your lifetime. Mentally, it will be very uncomfortable for you, but when you are ready, please describe to me, in as much detail as you can recall, the sights, sounds, and words, if you heard any, that made up your recent time-sighting."             "My timesighting?" said Sinead, replacing her arm even more tightly around Declan's waist and trying to delay the discomfort to come with a question. "Did not you say, after many unsuccessful attempts to awaken the faculty in me, that I was an unsuitable subject who would never be able to see into the future?"             "I was mistaken," said Ma'el. "I had assumed that when a young woman given the faculty proved to be deaf and blind to the unfolding of times to come, the reason is that she cannot or will not bear the child or children that will extend her line into that future. Plainly that situation no longer applies here. The physical and emotional factors that..."             "Wait," she broke in, turning to look at Declan with an expression of surprise and wonder. "Does that mean ... Am 1 already with child?"             "Perhaps," Ma'el replied, "and perhaps not. But sometime there will be progeny who will provide the time channel through which you now see so clearly. They will not be as gifted as you, because the degree of excellence of the faculty is dependent on the intensity of the physical and emotional bond between the original progenitors, which in this case is uniquely strong because never before has it been known for a timesight to see across two millennia.             "I say again," he ended, "the visions that you see, strange and terrifying though they will be, cannot harm you. Close your eyes to the present if it helps you concentrate, and tell me in your own words what you have already seen, and what else you are seeing now."             She looked at Declan and he gave her an encouraging smile. He was unable to say anything because the thought that sooner or later they would be parents had paralyzed his tongue. Sinead smiled back at him, closed her eyes, and began to speak.             'The first image," she said, "had been of a great, screaming, landed bird. It had stiff wings, with four huge, open-ended caskets hanging sideways from them, and it was these that seemed to be screaming. It was bigger than the largest ship I have ever seen, larger even than a Roman trireme. Hundreds of people climbed into its belly without being chained or even driven inside with whips before it screamed louder, ran along a great, wide road and flew away with them across a city with buildings like enormous fingers of glass and stone that poked almost into the clouds. Between the buildings, carriages that moved without horses or slaves pulling them ran at great speed and made high, hooting noises. People dressed in bright raiment, more people than it was possible to count, walked the streets almost shoulder to shoulder, and ..."             "What else did you see?" said Ma'el quickly when Sinead hesitated. Declan could feel her trembling and her eyes remained tightly shut when she replied.             "Iâ??I did not see this the first time," she stammered, "but I can now. An enormous building shaped like a strange, transparent flower, or maybe a vegetable. Tiny people move about inside it and on the trimmed, green field on which it stands. There is a djinn dropping from the sky. None of the people seem afraid of it and one of them, no, I can see three of them now, wearing close-fitting, plush garments instead of cloaks, and, and they all look like you!"             Ma'el's body stiffened and for the first time since they had met Declan saw the other's calm, unlined face show emotion.             "You are sure?" he asked in a low, angry voice. "Could it be a waking confusion of memory caused, perhaps, by your familiarity with me and the recent appearance of my djinn? My people should not be there."             "Whether or not they be confusions of my memory," Sinead replied firmly as she opened her eyes to look directly into his face, "I am certain of what I saw and still see. Now I hear voices talking. The subject sounds important. Who is Ha'gel? What is the Shaqarava ...?"             She broke off, gave a small, involuntary scream of surprise, then said sharply, "Ma'el! What's wrong with you? What is happening to your face?"             The old man's features, which had been partly shaded by his cowl, were going through a fearful change. A latticework of fine lines had appeared and was spreading over his face, making it look like a picture executed by a craftsman in mosaic tiles. As they stared horrified the change continued; the tiny pieces of face dissolved one by one until the features reflected the sunlight as if they were made from clear, motionless water through which they could see to the inside surface of Ma'el's cowl. Sinead had transferred her hold to Declan's arm, and was gripping it so tightly that his fingers tingled because they were not getting their supply of blood.             "My apologies," said Ma'el gently, his features returning to what they had been. "For a moment I lost control so that without warning you saw me as other Taelons see me, and each other. You are both surprised but not, I believe, terrified by the sight. This pleases me greatly because it means that, in spite of me revealing my true appearance, you realize that I am still the person you have known. Is this so?"             Declan's mouth was too dry for it to form words, so he nodded. Sinead said, "Yes, Ma'el, it is. Bâ??but the Taelons I saw wore faces like yours ..."             "Because," he broke in to answer the question before she could ask it, "I have discovered after many mistakes that your people find it more comfortable to look into eyes and at lips in a familiar, skin-covered face when they speak with me. Unless you request otherwise I shall continue with this practice."             Sinead relaxed her grip on his arm and joined him in silence. Ma'el looked briefly at the sky, produced the chart, and spread it on the ground between them while he resumed speaking.             "Many of my secrets I have revealed to you," he said, tapping the chart, "beginning with this small and simple one. There was my hand light which lit the encampment on the first night we met, and later when Sinead used it to conjure a monster onto the Orla's mainsail and frighten off the Roman attackers. That, like the seamless joining of wood in the dead robber's cross, and the way in which I lightened my wagon so that it made the ship ride high in the water to escape the pirates in the Mediterranean. Each of you saw that happen and wondered about it, but made no mention of it to me or, indeed, anyone else.             "But now there are greater secrets," he went on. "You may call them magic or charms but I know them only as Taelon technology, which must be revealed to you. Not only that, you will be required to become skilled in then-use as I am or, because of your youth and the fast-acting precision of movement in your muscles, much better than I am. The lessons will be difficult in the extreme, their teaching will at times terrify you and open your minds in directions they may not want to go, and you will want to run screaming from what you see and the things I will ask you to do. But if that should occur, we will return to the old and slower ways of travel."             "We won't be frightened ..." Declan began, when Sinead gripped his arm tightly again.             "We might be frightened by your teachings," she said in a serious voice, "but we want to learn from you and we will not run away."             Ma'el inclined his head. "Good," he said, "but it is a possibility that should be considered."             They exchanged looks which said that neither of them were considering that possibility, then Declan said, "Ma'el, what do you want us to do first?"             "First," he replied, looking at Sinead, "I want you to move your possessions and those of Declan well clear of the wagon, after which I shall cause it and the pool to be buried under sand in case we should need it again soon, which we will not if you are apt pupils."             He indicated the chart, glanced toward their horse and went on, "That is a friendly and hardworking being who, although nonsapient, I have come to admire. I do not want it to starve here alone or to suffer in any other way. There is a camel train close by that is bound for the caravanserai. Please feed and untether the horse at once, then ride it to the caravan where you will arrange for it to be taken to your friend Bashir so that it can be cared for until the time comes when we might need it again. Sufficient gold will be provided to take care of its needs for the rest of its lifetime. Once these arrangements have been made through the caravan master, you will leave him without further explanation ..."             "It will be a long, hot walk back here," Declan protested, but it was as if Ma'el had not heard him.             "... You will conceal yourself from the sight of surface eyes," he ended, "until Sinead and I come for you. It would please me if you were to perform this task as a matter of urgency and without further delay or discussion ..."             Without another word, Declan did exactly as he had been told. He had no trouble leaving the horse and making the arrangements for its future needs with the surprised caravan master, who had heard of Declan and had believed him long since dead. Apparently word of the epic battle fought by the men of the caravanserai and himself against overwhelming odds, albeit with the help of a fearsome djinn, had spread up and down the camel trails while losing nothing in the telling. But he had the greatest difficulty in making the man believe that he wanted the caravan to proceed without him and that he was to be left alone and on foot in the desert.             It was close to sunset when he heard a familiar high-pitched, hissing scream and looked up to see the large djinn dropping toward him like a stone. As it neared the ground, the blue fires that he had thought at first were blazing eyes brightened, the sound like the hissing of a thousand angry serpents increased and it slowed to alight gently on the ground. When the cloud of sand stirred up by its landing had subsided, through the partly transparent body of the djinn he could see the shapes of two seated figures, one of which stood up and turned toward him. An opening appeared suddenly in its flank and he saw that it was Sinead.             She had the .pallor of one who has recently undergone a frightening experience, but her face was split by a great smile of wonder as she waved him inside. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT             Instead of looking at it in Ma'el's chart they were seeing a similar picture of the land surface through the large square of transparent material under their feet. When first they had begun rising into the heavens, Declan had tried to grip the edges of the smooth, deeply cushioned stool on which he sat lest he fall out of it and tumble to the distant ground, but by some act of the magic that Ma'el insisted was merely Taelon technology, the seat grew five soft, strong arms that encircled his waist and thighs and gave close support to the curve of his back to hold him steady. He watched the caravan he had met earlier shrink to a thin, dusty worm and then begin to slide to the edge of the transparent substance and out of his sight. In front of Ma'el's position there was another and much larger area of clarity that faced forward. The old man's hands were resting lightly on its surface while he moved them about in a succession of strange, arcane gestures.             "... We are now making the transition from high altitude to orbital flight," Ma'el was saying, "and will overfly the path we traveled from Hibernia to our recent location. I am sorry if a few of the words I use are strange, but soon their meaning and the actions and events to which they apply will become clear to you. Are either of you feeling mental distress?"             Sinead, who was staring at the unfolding surface in open-mouthed wonder, shook her head. Declan made a croaking sound the exact meaning of which was unclear even to himself. To hide the apprehension that must have been showing on his face, he turned his head to look inside the djinn which Ma'el called his short-range shuttle craft.             Like the one in the floor at his feet and that facing the old man, there were large, clear openings in the djinn's shell which made it possible to see outside in all directions except one which was shielded automatically no matter what their change of heading, Ma'el had explained, to keep their eyes and skin from being damaged by the sun. Curving beams supported the interior of the hull which seemed to be much larger on the inside than out. It was divided into three globular rooms whose outlines and dimensions were difficult to judge because their walls were also transparent. Grouped around their walls, ceilings, and floors were strange devices of unknown purpose that resembled glass and metal flowers, and larger objects that had the look of furniture. Trying to focus his eyes on some of them gave Declan an aching head so he returned his attention to the distant and more familiar ground that was hurrying past his feet.             He saw the fan of tiny rivers that was the delta of the Nile before the eastern Mediterranean opened out to reveal both the north coast of Africa and southern Italy. By bending forward and craning his head from side to sideâ??the padded arms encircling his waist would allow him to do that provided he moved slowlyâ??he was able to see the great sweep of land and ocean from the Pillars of Hercules up to Finisterre in Iberia. Objects and land outlines on the ground were growing smaller, which meant that the djinn was climbing higher, and he could see scattered over the Ocean of Atlantis the fat, white worms that Ma'el called low-pressure systems. In a clear area where, again in the words of the old man, high pressure dominated, he could make out the islands of Britain and Hibernia and, hazy with distance through a clear area of sky beyond it, another stretch of coastline that ran north to south as far as the eye could see. He became aware that the sky above them was shading from pale blue to black and the horizon was no longer a straight line but seemed to be curving into a bow shape. He was about to mention these inexplicable occurrences when Sinead spoke first.             "There is land, there, west of Hibernia!" she said pointing, her voice high with excitement. "Is that the fabled Westland, Tir Na n'Og, the land of the forever young? Ma'el, if that is where you come from, you are far from home."             "That land holds many people ..." said the old man quietly. He made a series of complicated, fluid gestures with both hands and suddenly the land below them was shrinking rapidly, the curve of the horizon increased until it met itself and suddenly they were looking down at a great brown and blue globe flecked with white clouds and, tiny with distance, the lands and seas that they knew as well as many that they did not. "... But I do not come from there."             Sinead gripped Declan's hand tightly as they stared at the bright, tiny globe that had been the vast and, until now, limitless world that they thought had contained all things that were and ever would be. For a moment he wondered if he was dreaming, if Ma'el had put a marvellous enchantment on Sinead and himself, but he hoped not because he did not want this wondrous thing that was happening to him to be a dream.             "Then where do you come from?" asked Sinead.             Ma'el waved a hand, their world slipped to the side and they were looking into an area of sky filled with stars, some bright and seemingly close, others so distant that they were a glowing haze too fine for the individual points of light to be resolved.             "Before I answer," said the old man, "you must first be given instruction so that you will understand the answer I give. Clear your minds and attend closely to my words ..."             Speaking slowly and clearly, he told them that the first and most important fact that they should learn was that all objects attracted each other, and the larger the object the greater the attraction. This was what the Taelons called, as well as the future learned of Earth would call, the force of gravity. It was the attraction that held them and all living things to the surface of their world. Any object high above the surface would fall toward it unless it had motion at right angles to the direction of fall. If the sideways motion was precisely calculated, the object would continue to fall toward an object that was constantly moving aside so that the falling object would never reach the larger body but would continue to fall endlessly around it, just as now their vessel was falling around the world below them. This was called being in orbit, just as at a greater distance their moon was circling in a stable orbit around their world, and their world and the other planets were circling the sun. All of the stars that they could see were distant suns many of which had worlds circling them on which lived thinking beings like, but more often totally unlike, themselves ...             He pointed toward one of the glowing star clouds and went on, "The place whence I came, the parent sun and world of the Taelon, lies there. I am far indeed from home."             They looked at each other in astonishment but not disbelief, then back to the old man with an expression that reflected sympathy as well as wonder. Declan was too surprised to think of anything to say that would fit the situation but Sinead was not.             "You have been with us a long time," she said softly. "We are sorry. You must sorely miss your family and friends."             Ma'el inclined his head and looked at them for a long moment, then said, "A few of them. But the sympathy from you is unexpected and deeply appreciated. You have been exposed to sights and knowledge that could well have sent your minds into gibbering madness. Instead, my more than servants, you are thinking of me."             He paused while his hands gestured briefly and on the clear surface of the canopy before him appeared the gray outlines of circles, squares, and long curving shapes so strange that they had no names for them.             "At first I thought of introducing this knowledge to you one item at a time. Instead I was unkind, perhaps even harsh, and confronted you with all of it at once. This was because, having come to know both of you well, I decided that facing you with many shocks at once would keep your minds from being affected too seriously by any one of them. It seems that I was right and later, while your minds and bodies are at rest, you will be able to assimilate this material without mental dysfunction. But one more shock, although later you will look back on it as just another learning experience, awaits you."             He rose from his seat, stood aside and nodded toward the symbols that had appeared on the forward canopy. Looking at Sinead he said calmly, "Your hands, like my own, are small and precise in their movements, so you will be first. The markings you see have been placed there as a visual reminder of their shapes, positions, and control functions. Later, when you become more experienced, they can be removed so as not to interfere with forward visibility. You will be given verbal guidance at every stage. Take the control position, now, and prepare to fly my ship ..."             Declan had no way of judging the passage of time except for the dawn to dusk alteration in daylight and the changing positions of the sun, moon, or stars. But out here there was only night and the heavenly bodies gyrated wildly in random directions as Sinead sought, with an early lack of success, to make the djinn go where she wanted it to go. And so it was that for what seemed to be a very long time Declan sat gripping the sides of his chair while it gripped him just as tightly. Then it was slowly borne in on him that the movements of the Earth and stars had become smoother and more precise and that Sinead's features, although still beaded with moisture, were showing pleasure and excitement through their concentration. Beyond the canopy, one of the smaller orbiting djinns, looking like an alien, square-winged butterfly with what Ma'el called its power receptors extended, was coming to a halt close by.             "Enough," said Ma'el. "Your ability to think and move in the three dimensions of normal space is excellent. Later you will be shown how to navigate through the interdimensional folds of space, and to travel great distances in an instant. But for now you must return to your place and rest both your body and overworked mind."             She nodded gratefully and moved back to the chair beside him, but the old man remained standing.             "Now, Declan," he said, "it is your turn ..."             Keeping the vessel on the heading indicated by Ma'el, he thought as the perspiration trickled down his face and soaked his body, was like trying to balance with a single pole on an ice-covered pond. The slightest misjudgment sent the vessel sliding and spinning in every direction but the one he wanted it to follow. While sitting in a comfortable chair he was working harder than he had ever done in his life while the muscles of his arms ached with the effort of not forming his hands into the wrong gesture or moving them in the wrong direction or at the incorrect speed. He knew that his great, awkward, weapon-wielding hands had not the same delicacy and precision of movement as those of Sinead, but he felt that slowly he was learning how to make the Earth and sky hold steady and to guide the vessel in the direction it was supposed to go. But suddenly he had to place his sweating hands on his lap and stare through the unobscured side of the canopy and do nothing.             Ma'el made a worried, interrogatory sound.             Carefully so as not to change the control settings, Declan indicated the scene outside where the surface below was in a night lit only by a half moon that made the whole world look like a tenuous ghost of itself. The darkness of the past few hours had so sharpened his eyesight that stars, large and bright and others so faint that he had never been able to see them from the surface, crowded the sky so thickly that it seemed that he could reach out and touch them. He felt no hurt but suddenly his eyes stung with tears.             'That,'' he said, clearing his throat, "is the most tremendous and beautiful sight I have seen or ever will see. It makes me almost forget to breathe."             Ma'el inclined his head and regarded him for a long moment, then he pointed with an arm outstretched and said gently, "Position the vessel along this line of travel, then you will engage the main thrusters as you have been shown and fly us to your moon for low-level flight, approach, and landing practice."             Once the course was set there was nothing for Declan to do and Ma'el suggested that Sinead and he might like to rest. Before he could voice exactly the same sentiments, she said that they were too excited to think of sleeping amid all this splendor. So they watched the moon grow slowly larger and change from the silvery orb they had known to a dead and grossly pock-marked world that looked as if it had been visited by some gargantuan plague but still, withal, retaining its own terrible beauty.             They watched and listened to Ma'el as he talked about his plans for them, and filled their minds with answers to questions they knew not how to ask, which were even more exciting and wondrous than the scene outside. He told them that he was the only member of his race to visit Earth. He had been sent there by the Synod, which was the ruling group of the Taelon people, to investigate Earth for as long as he deemed it necessary and to report on his findingsâ??"             "... The completion of my report has become an urgent necessity for several reasons," he went on. 'Time is not a problem for me, but it is for you and the short-lived race to which you belong. That was why I have decided to disobey the Synod's specific instructions and reveal this and lesser secrets to you ...             "That is also why," he continued, "I shall take you to Cathay, and to many other lands, by a faster and more direct means than hazardous sailing ships and camel caravans that are prey to robbers. Such methods of travel, while attracting less attention to myself, would waste years of traveling time as well as placing your already short lives in jeopardy.             "You have been given this knowledge because you two, more than any other members of your race previously employed by me, are capable of performing a unique service for myself and ultimately for my people."             "But who are we," said Sinead, "that we should be singled out for this revelation? A young woman damaged in mind and body as a child, but now recovering ..." she squeezed Declan's hand, "... and a hulking great warrior with so many muscles that the sharpness of his mind is often hidden by them. I ask again, why us?"             "I am trying to tell you," said Ma'el gently, "but you must have the patience to wait until you receive the whole answer. Voluntarily separated as I am from the Commonality and the immaterial mental force that holds the thinking of all our people together, my own ability to foretell my future has been diminishing to a frightening extent The timesight is a vital necessity to the continuance and completion of my work here, but I am fast losing it That is why I have ignored another Taelon prime directive and given timesight to your people so that, through yourself among others, I would be able to see into this world's future. Initially you were a disappointment to me, not through any fault of your own but because of the mind-damaging incident in your past which, I thought wrongly, had rendered you physically and emotionally sterile and, as a result without a genetic extension into the future. I was considering letting both of you go. That would have been the greatest mistake of my life because you, Sinead, have acquired a timesight that is unique in its power, accuracy, and temporal range ..."             "But why?" Sinead broke in. She squeezed Declan's hand again and went on, "I know that I had a change of feeling and that now I will have descendants who will form the organic pathway that gives me timesight into the far future. But why am I so good at it?"             The old man looked slowly from Sinead to Declan and back again before replying.             "What I tell you now is partly speculative rather than entirely factual," he said, "because, regrettably, we Taelons do not have the intense levels of physical attraction and emotional involvement that are possessed by your shortlived species. It is possible that, even though you disliked each other intensely in the beginning, when continued close proximity and shared dangers forced you into recognizing each other's better qualities and depths of character, the emotional potential that built up between you was so intense that when the change of feeling came and you joined, the stimulation of your future time sense was unique in its strength. On Taelon such an intensity of emotional bonding is unknown, and on your own world it must be rare. That is the best answer I can give you."             Sinead looked uncomfortable and said, "Ma'el, are you telling us that we are the greatest lovers there have ever been?"             Declan gave a small laugh to hide his embarrassment. "I would think that all lovers feel like this about each other," he said, then added thoughtfully, "but in this case it is probably true."             Before Sinead could reply, Ma'el raised a hand to point and said, "Your moon is less than two of its diameters distant and you have work to do. Declan, position the vessel for a landing in that large crater with the low, central peak."             "Someday," Sinead said in a quiet voice, "somebody is going to name it Tycho." At last the lessons were over for the day in a place where there was neither day nor night, Ma'el had urged them to rest and placed them in a small room whose walls had been made opaque except for the one that looked out on the beautiful blue and white Earth that was hanging low above the crater's rim and dimming the background stars only slightly. Sinead was trying to do the impossible, which was to move her body closer than it already was to his.             "Earlier," she said softly, "you told Ma'el that the most beautiful and wonderful thing you had ever seen was the Earth and the stars in space. You also said that we were the world's greatest lovers, probably. Probably?"             Declan raised a hand to caress the back of her neck at the hairline, then moved his fingers slowly and lightly down the length of her spine, hearing her soft, ragged intake of breath.             "The Earth and stars don't wrap themselves as tightly around me as you do," he said, "and as for being the world's greatest lovers, we need more practice ..." CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE Ma'el Report. Day 112,178 ...             The advanced instruction in ship handling was completed with the period it took for their moon to circle twice around its parent planet, a learning time that I consider not only satisfactory but impressive. The operating principle governing instantaneous navigation through the dimensional layers of quasireality, while they learned to perform the required hand movements with precision, were difficult for them to grasp. In a gross oversimplification, I finally explained it by spreading out Sinead's white linen burnoose, marking it with a spot of dark liquid, and then fold it so that the stain was copied onto a different part of the garment before spreading it flat again to show the distance that could be traveled instantaneously between the two marked places. The demonstration enabled them to understand how, if not why, interdimensional travel worked.             "This illustrates once again the essential difference between intelligence and education. These people of Earth are uncivilized, technologically backward, and woefully ignorant, but they are highly adaptable and intelligent. With the possession of intelligence, especially where these two are concerned, ignorance is a temporary condition.             "With this purely organic life-form, a prolonged stay in the light gravity of their moon means that muscular deterioration with a consequent loss of physical coordination will gradually take place. This could prove embarrassing and even dangerous for them in the Earth environment, so their return should not be long delayed.             "The lack of a breathable atmosphere on this world means that they have been unable to leave the ship, but this close confinement together does not seem to worry them ..." -             They had come out of orbit over the Mediterranean and were descending toward Alexandria to overfly the course they had been following in the wagon at an altitude at which the vessel's physical shape would be mistaken for that of a high-flying bird, but low enough for them to see clearly the remembered contours until they passed over the caravanserai and new territory began to unroll like an endless carpet below them.             They continued to follow the well-used camel trail that some poetically minded merchant had named the Golden Road to Samarkand and on to the famed Dzungarian Gate in the mountains above Lake Ebi Nor, and thence across central India with its green jungles, lush grassland, deserts, and richly decorated palaces to the Jade Gate that was set in the spectacular and recently completed Great Wall which guarded the eastern flank of the world's most ancient civilization and empire of Cathay. They were staring in awe and wonder at the structure that followed the contours of the mountains and valleys like an endless square worm of stone, when Ma'el broke a lengthy silence.             "This is the surface route I originally intended to follow," he said, looking at Sinead in the control position but addressing both of them, "when it seemed desirable to conceal from you my true nature and that of the work I came to do on this world. You can estimate for yourselves the proportion of your short lives that would have been wasted merely in traveling to visit the far-flung places and people in order to update my report. That wastage, and the secrecy that would have caused it, is no longer necessary because your limited life spans and abilities, especially your timesight, and those of Declan as a protector and emissary, must be put to more effective use. When we pass over the Imperial City of Xian, bear south and cross the coast to the islands of Nippon and thence across the ocean until you pass over the eastern seaboard of a vast, rich, and beautiful land that is as yet unknown to you except in legend. It is a land of great mountain ranges, rich forests, and vast plains teeming with animal life beyond number as well as the life of its hunting tribes that is far above the animal level. There are the beginnings of empires, too, and civilizations built on human sacrifice and unthinking cruelty. We will return to visit all these places, but for now it is only necessary to prove to you that they exist. You will find a desolate and deserted place in this land and alight there ..."             'These animals that you say are numerous beyond counting," said Sinead sadly, her eyes seeming to look far into space and time, "so that the thunder of their hooves makes the very land tremble. They are like monstrous, hairy cattle with heavy shoulders, enormous heads, and wide-spreading horns. I see them extinct."             Ma'el was silent for a moment, then he went on as if she had not spoken, "... So that you can both learn how to make this vessel obey you while you are at a distance from it. You will also exercise and strengthen muscles grown weak during your stay on the moon when you are not listening to me explaining more of my magic."             Apart from it having air to breathe, the place where they landed was as lifeless and arid as the Moon they had left. Instead of being surrounded by crater walls there was a strange, flat-topped mountain and several enormous, rocky pinnacles that poked out of the surrounding desert like black, misshapen fingers. They would provide ideal navigational obstacles, Ma'el insisted, while he was showing them how to remotely control their ship.             On the ground outside their tents, Ma'el unfolded and spread before them a new chart. Instead of showing pictures of the land relayed from orbit, this one reproduced in half of the original dimensions all of the control symbols from the surface of the vessel's forward canopy. He explained that the smaller size would require their hand and finger movements across it to be even more precise than those they had learned on the moon, that this was the means by which he had called down the so-called djinn which had ended the attack on the caravans, and that he had every confidence in their ability to perform the task.             Soon they were both able to move the vessel accurately and make it perform complicated maneuvers within their line of sight, and then to send it into orbit and bring it down again. With the other chart to guide them, they learned how to position the vessel during the night at various ground locations specified by their instructor and, in daylight, above different seaports and cities where they were able to remain invisible by interposing it between the sun and would-be observers on the ground When they were able to do that consistently with a placement error of less than twenty paces, they were very pleased with themselves until Ma'el told them gently mat they had passed the first and easiest examination.             "... When we were in the clear and open space around your moon," Ma'el went on to explain, "I introduced you briefly to interdimensional travel. This is a rapid and safe form of travel provided you ensure that you do not materialize the ship inside a planetary body or a sun. In future, however, you will be called on to move through the hyper dimension, not over a distance of thousands of miles but by a few paces. You must learn how to move the vessel with precision into an enclosed space, the inside of a building, for example, or into a buried cavern without having to demolish the intervening walls. This would be necessary if you wished to conceal the vehicle from the local inhabitants or, if they proved to be unfriendly, to call it to your assistance for the purpose of rescue and evacuation.             "When you are ready we will begin ..."             They began in the late spring, alternating the lessons between them day by day, but late summer had given way to midwinter and the desert was cold in the daylight hours and frigid at night before the old man pronounced them ready for their final examination for precision of control. Sinead took hers first.             Declan had lost count of the times they had each sent the vessel through the solid masses of the tall, rock pinnacles and the strange, flat-topped mountain that dominated their landscape. Each time the operation had been accompanied by a sharp detonation and an expanding circle of blue light as the vessel entered its self-created fold in space beyond one face of the obstruction and emerged on the other, with a comfortable margin for error on either side. During the final stages of the examination, however, the allowed clearances were gradually reduced to no more than a small fraction of the vessel's overall length, no more than a few paces, beyond the entry and exit positions.             Sinead, her hands and arms moving with such smooth and beautiful precision that her bones might have been made of water, was able to do it. Declan was not.             Avoiding Sinead's eyes and feeling his face hot with shame, Declan said, "Ma'el, I don't think I can do this. I'm afraid of rematerializing the ship inside the rock and damaging it" He held up his hands and then indicated the chart on the ground. "The full-size control screen on the ship is difficult enough for me, but I'm too ham-fisted to operate a half-sized one like this, at least, not with the precision you require, and I do not want to try. I'm sorry, in this matter I am craven."             Ma'el inclined his head. "The effect of one solid body materializing inside another would not only destroy both objects," he said gently, "it would cause a detonation which would remove a large proportion of the crust of your world, allow the core magma to overflow onto the surface and convert the atmosphere and oceans into superheated steam, and destroy all forms of life on the planet ..."             He heard Sinead join him in a quick intake of breath, but before they could say anything, Ma'el went on calmly, "...The vessel's systems include a fail-with-safety device that is designed to prevent such a catastrophe from happening, but by its very nature it is as yet untried. And you are in no sense craven. There is a difference between cowardice and caution, which is the recognition and acceptance of your personal limitations. Caution saves many of the lives that unthinking bravery wastes. You are excused this test without blame or reproach, so you should ease your mind.             "Sinead," he added, "return the vessel to us here, then both of you rest and tomorrow you will break camp and prepare for departure ..." -             They flew eastward over the storm-tossed ocean, without seeing any sign of the fabled Adantis after which it had been named, and crossed the west coast of Hibernia to come to a stable hover above the city of Sligo. They had positioned themselves between the late afternoon sun and the gaze of any curious city dwellers and so had been rendered invisible, but they themselves could see far and wide through air washed clear by a recent rain squall. Declan's eyes roved inland and eastward across the gray expanse of Loch Gill to the Lachagh Hills, north to the long ocean rollers that broke white against the base of Roskeragh Point, southward to the Slieve Gamphs, shivering in wonder that he was able to view the land in this godlike fashion. To the west he could clearly see An Leathros, the hill above the strand that the Saxon visitors called Strand Hill, whose gentle, seaward facing slopes bore the tombs of the past kings of Connaught, and above them on the dark mountain of Knocknareagh, the burial chamber of the famed and infamous Queen Maeve herself, whose exploits in war were surpassed only on the scented battleground of her bed. Looking at the burial markers, their westward facing stone surfaces orange-gray in the setting sun, Declan shivered again without knowing why.             "What reason," he said to Ma'el, "have you for coming to this place of the heroic dead?"             "I have already said that it is a place of power for me," -             the old man replied in his usual inscrutable fashion, "where Iwill be able to renew myself and my magic before we set off again on the journeys that will enable me to complete my work. My buried laboratory is here."             "What is a laboratory?"             'Tonight you will enter one," Ma'el replied, "so that a description in words would be wasteful of our time." He pointed suddenly. "Sinead, your target is a circle thirty paces in diameter that is centered at the intersection of the lines joining those two, pale-colored grave markers, there and there, and a perpendicular line raised to that dark, square rock, just there ..."             "It looks like an ordinary stretch of grassy hillside," Sinead said.             "... Our vessel's dock and servicing mechanisms," he continued, "as well as my laboratory are under that intersection point. We will land at night using our dark light system. If anyone should chance to see us, well, this area has witnessed many strange sights over the years. Horseless flying chariots, screaming and hissing banshees crossing the night sky, the flight of the Fairy King to name but a few. The witness would remain silent because his words would not be believed.             "Compared with yesterday's examination in piloting," he ended reassuringly, "your three-dimensional space for maneuver is generous."             Sinead nodded and Declan looked down again at the standing stones, thinking about his unhappy past and of the things that might have been had his father not disowned him, then he shrugged angrily and said, "It is not a place where I shall ever lie."             Sinead turned to look at him for a long moment, her eyes blinking rapidly as if she was feeling a sudden sadness. But before she could speak, Ma'el raised a hand to point through the control canopy and she returned her attention to the scene below. CHAPTER THIRTY Ma'el Report. Day 112, 197 ...             The technical aspects of the training are reaching completion so that their further instruction has become a process of general education and discussion which, inevitably, leads to questions that I am unwilling to answer.             'The extent of my underground laboratory awed and amazed them, but not enough to affect their ability to mentate in any significant way. Sinead and Declan are adaptable, resourceful, and, considering the less-than-civilized culture to which they belong, ethical people who are forced to survive among others of their kind who have much in common with many life-forms who infest the farther reaches of the Galaxy and are nothing but thinking and predatory animals lusting after power. These two are even more unusual for the reason that they have accepted and are comfortable with the knowledge that they live on a world rather than the world. For the members of any intelligent culture, whatever its planet of origin, this is a major step on the way to interstellar civilization.             "Once they asked if it would be possible for me to fly them to Taelon. I told them that it was not, but the thought of the Commonality's response to such an event came close to making me lose control of my outwardly human form. Among the Earth people this emotional reaction is known as intense amusement.             "It is natural in their new surroundings that they persist in asking about the laboratory's origin, and my continuing avoidance of giving the answer must in time lead to feelings of suspicion and distrust on their part. Strange as it seems even to me, I am afraid of losing their respect and, in spite of them belonging to a species of a lower level of physical and cognitive evolution, their friendship.             "It would aid my decision as to whether or not I should give a truthful answer to this question if Sinead would furnish me with a timesight in which I had done so, as well as the emotional repercussions that would result. But no. Although erratic, her ability to see into the future is impressive in the detail of the images and incidents it reveals, but the only timesightings she has mentioned are short-range events of a personal nature concerning Declan and herself of which she is understandably reluctant to speak.             "I remain undecided ..." -             A fall of rock and earth had long since blocked the direct passage to the open hillside, but that did not mean that Sinead and Declan were unable to take their daily walk.             The space-vessel dock formed only a small part of the interlinked system of caverns and side caves that Ma'el called his laboratory. Wide, stone steps joined the caverns whose floors were on different levels and the same accurately chiseled stonework had been used in the making of large and small workbenches that were positioned in orderly groups inside every chamber, all of which became illuminated as soon as Sinead or himself entered them. The lighting revealed ceilings and walls that glittered as if they were streaming with water, but like the cavern in the Roman catacombs, the whole laboratory was so completely dry that it was plain that here, too, the glassy substance was protecting it from invading damp.             The stone benches, which were topped with flat sheets of the same substance, held racks filled with large and small tools, some of which were made partly of glass, as well as large and more dangerous devices that made warning noises and flashed lights if they tried to lay a hand on one of them. But it was the system of caves leading off the larger chambers that most interested and puzzled them.             "There is no sign of Taelon technology here," Sinead said, waving the hand light that Ma'el had given them for exploring in the smaller, unlit areas. It showed the remains of smashed and age-bleached wooden furniture including a low bed heaped with the desiccated remains of its covering blanket, pieces of broken platters and eating utensils thick with dust, and even what might have been the remains of food so ancient that even the maggots had died of old age. She went on, "These caves were used by people like ourselves. It is likely that they were the builders of this laboratory. But every time I ask about them, Ma'el changes the subject. It is a simple question so why won't he answer it? Are there other secrets he is still hiding from us?"             Declan was silent for a moment, then he said thoughtfully, "I believe that he has grown to like and trust us. If a secret there is, he must have a strong reason for concealing it, whether it is for our benefit or his. We might be more easy in our minds if we do not know everything about him, and we should forebear to ask."             "But Declan," she said, "I'm curious"             He knew then that she would ask the question anyway and that it would probably be during their next meal together. He was right.             "Giving the answer to your question," said Ma'el, "is forbidden by both the Synod and the Commonality of Taelon, as was the revelation of my other secrets. This one I concealed for personal reasons because speaking of it would cause pain to myself as well as both of you. Before I reveal it, have you had a timesight involving the past or future of this laboratory?"             "I tried," Sinead replied, "but I could see neither into the past or future."             "There could be two reasons for that," Ma'el said. "One is that you are not descended from any of the persons concerned because they did not have offspring and the second, I am hoping, is that the events that transpire here when you have full information are not so emotionally traumatic that they will affect our present relationship."             "Iâ??I don't understand you," said Sinead.             "You will," Ma'el replied, rising to his feet. "Please follow me."             He led them to a cavern that they had passed through every day but without spending time there because it held nothing but a low, stone platform surrounded by devices which had warned them away. Ma'el made a slow gesticulation with one hand and two chairs rose from the floor. He indicated that they should be seated.             "Your collars and earpieces will enable you to understand the words that are spoken," he said, "and your eyes will tell you the rest. You will hear my voice as it was recorded in the past, but in the present I shall not speak unless you wish clarification, which you will indicate by raising a hand. We will begin."             Above the stone platform there appeared a wide, vertical cylinder of light that showed bands of color that writhed within themselves as if someone was stirring a liquid rainbow until it settled into an image that was familiar to them, that of An Leathros, the Hill Above the Strand, in the brownish-green colors of winter as if it was being viewed from a descending space vessel. But it was not the same picture that they had seen days earlier. Although Ma'el's lips remained closed they heard his voice.             "This is an excerpt of the report of Investigator Ma'el, made on the 12,775th day of the cultural evaluation of the peoples of Earth, and covering the events while my laboratory was under construction ..."             "Wait, wait, this can't be right," Declan broke in. His mind struggled with the numbers for a long moment because in his youth mathematics had been his least-favored subject. 'Twelve thousand, seven hundred days is, is thirty-five years, and add to that the age of this place. Judging by the condition of furniture in the caves, it could be centuries old ..."             "On Taelon we live longer than you do," Ma'el said. "Shall I continue ...?"             Declan wanted to ask how much longer, but the answer had shocked Sinead as well as himself into silence and the recorded voice of the old man, of the very old man it now seemed, resumed.             The image of An Leathros expanded to show groups of young men, over two hundred of them in all, who were stripped to the waist and with their breaths and their sweat steaming about them in the cold air as they pulled sleds containing finished stone blocks up the slopes toward the mouth of a tunnel that was fringed with an apron of dark, freshly turned earth. They heard the young mens' voices as the picture closed on one of the groups and followed them through the tunnel into the caverns of the laboratory while it was still a-building. Without exception the men worked willingly, cheerfully, and hard for they had been promised a great reward for both their sweat and their secrecy, and the recorded words of the older Ma'el explained why.             "... So that there would not be too many unexplained disappearances from one locality, the workforce was recruited and transported from all over Hibernia. My intention at the time was to reward each of them with the gold that would buy them land for farms and cattle, if that was their desire, and thus attract to them the most comely of women for their wives. But at the conclusion of their work, the quality of which pleased me greatly, I decided to give them an additional reward.             "I decided to administer single doses of the Bliss drug.             "It was a substance that I encountered during the early years of the investigation which, according to the records of the sea explorer and adventurer, Jason, gave great pleasure and forgetfulness to those who consumed it. I acquired and tested this drug, and used Taelon science to modify its effects so that it would no longer be addictive.             "Primarily I was acting out of gratitude, but I also expected to benefit in that its administration would further reduce the possibility of them accidentally revealing the position of my laboratory. The substance stimulates the mind into an extended period of pleasure while, on awakening, it wipes all related events and surroundings from the memory so that the experience is remembered only as a pleasant, confused, and fading dream. As well as rewarding them with gold for their faithful service, I wanted to give them a period of ecstasy during which they would forget the reason why they had been given the reward in the first placeâ??" -             They watched the images as, at Ma'el's direction, the workers swallowed the tiny capsules and shortly after collapsed onto their beds or the nearest clear area of floor. They saw the wide smiles, the eyes that stared fixedly at some unseen object of pleasure or were tightly closed and with every muscle in their bodies locked in a paroxysm of ecstasy. Time passed and they remained thus, neither eating, drinking, sleeping, nor even moving while periodically their faces were suffused with a strangely colored blush. But when they at last returned to their real world, they had not forgotten their ecstatic dreams.             Instead they sought out Ma'el, at first pleading desperately with him, then demanding and finally threatening him with death if he did not give them more Bliss. Unwilling to do so because of its totally unexpected and mind-damaging aftereffects, Ma'el was forced to seal himself inside a force field while he worked desperately to produce an antidote.             At intervals they had glimpses of the older Ma'el striving endlessly over devices that flashed lights and made low, humming noises, or among delicate, strangely shaped transparent goblets large and small containing liquids of many colors, but mostly it was the actions of the Bliss victims that they were being shown. Many of the formerly pleasant and well-behaved young men they had seen were now throwing themselves against the invisible wall with which Ma'el had surrounded his workplace, screaming and fighting each other, damaging their faces, fists, and frequently breaking limbs in their frenzy to get closer to Ma'el and the Bliss that only he could give them. But they were shown the others, too.             In every cave large or small there was more screaming and fighting and cursing. Ma'el had been carelessly generous in his distribution of the Bliss, and from overheard scraps of angry, shouted conversation it seemed that there were those who suspected that their work mates had received more than one of them and were hiding the others for future use. The result was that they fought each other, viciously and without mercy like wild animals rather than the thinking, hardworking, and friendly beings that Ma'el had come to like well enough to want to reward them with pleasure. The broken furniture and smashed crockery in their living quarters were explained because they had been used to bludgeon or stab or cut each other to death with the sharp edges. Those who fought in the main caverns were using loose rocks, their teeth, or fingers to club and blind and tear each other to pieces.             By the time Ma'el had the antidote ready, the floors and connecting steps of the laboratory caverns ran red with blood and none of his workers remained alive.             There followed a rapid series of images showing Ma'el using one of his floating litters to transfer the bodies one by one to a small, unused cavern which he filled with them to its roof before collapsing and sealing its entrance, ending with the original view of the tunnel leading from the hillside into the laboratory, which was also collapsed and sealed with fallen rock. This scene remained, flickering with the rapid passage of years until the wound in the earth was covered over with greenery and all trace of the entrance tunnel was gone.             The image dissolved with a burst of color to leave only empty air above the stone platform. Declan looked at Sinead, thinking that her features were as pale and still as those of a corpse, and feeling that his own must have been the match of hers. It was Ma'el who spoke first.             'The responsibility for killing all of those human workers is mine," he said. His voice had never revealed any emotion and it did not do so now. "I await your judgment, and punishment."             Declan closed his eyes tightly, unable to speak. The bloody images were being thrown with all their horror onto the black screens of his eyelids, a sight hundreds of times worse than the aftermath of the bloodiest battle he had ever experienced. But Sinead was saying the words that he wanted to speak.             "That, that was horrible, ghastly," she said, and shuddered. "All those young men turning upon each other and ... But, but you were only trying to reward them out of kindness, not to kill them. From my own knowledge I know how kind you can be, whether it was to myself, that woman whose fortune you told in Cobh market, or even in your treatment of the beasts of burden we've used. You did not intend to do this terrible thing."             Ma'el inclined his head slowly then turned it to look at Declan, who had opened his eyes again but was still trying to calm his mind. It seemed a long time even to himself before he could speak.             'The perpetrator of such a horrendous crime deserves the ultimate punishment," he said thoughtfully, "the forfeit of his own life for the lives he has taken no matter how few or many that may be. You admit to having two reasons for acting as you did, the first one laudable and the second selfish. You wished to reward them for their services, and to make sure that the knowledge of you and the work done here would not be passed on to others. You achieved the second by causing all of them to die. -             "Old man," he went on gravely, "and I think of you as that even though we both know that you are not a man, or even a human being, and are old indeed. Rightly has Sinead said, now and many times in the past, that you are a gentle and kindly man who had no intention of perpetrating this evil deed, and it is plain that it was your kindliness that caused you to commit it. For my part, I believe for both our parts, the judgment must also be tempered with kindness and the punishment is not for us to administer. From what we know of you, it is and has been administered over many centuries of time by yourself, for the memory of the terrible thing that a kind and thoughtful man has done will always be in your mind and, for you, that is the worst of all punishments.             "But this punishment has lasted for far too long.             "Ma'el, you have said that there is a great task to complete," he ended. "I think we should return to it, and that you should begin this work by trying to forgive yourself."             The old man continued to stare at him in silence for what seemed a long time, his large, soft eyes blinking rapidly in a way that made Declan wonder if the other was capable of shedding tears. Finally he spoke.             "It seems that I have two healers now," he said, "for on Taelon you, Declan, would be called a Healer of the Mind. My thanks to you both. Tomorrow we will leave for the capital city of the Incas ..." CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE Ma'el Report. Day 112,237 ...             Since their empathic reaction to my confession regarding the fate of the laboratory workforce, my feelings toward Sinead and Declan are changing from simple affection to complete trust. The reason is that for members of a backward species they continue to display intelligence and a degree of understanding in their dealings with the members of other cultures, including my own, that is rare on this world and on many others that I know. During the recent visitations their presence has been a positive asset.             "I have revealed much but not all, about my true purpose in investigating their world. The imparting of full information is forbidden not only by the Synod but by the entire Taelon Commonality which includes myself.             "Sinead's episodes of timesight are rare, but startling in the detail they reveal. It is well that neither she nor Declan understand the significance of what she is seeing ..." -             In the growing Empire of the Incas, the fabulous Land of the Sun Kings that was closely confined by a great ocean on one side and high mountains on the other so that it could only expand north and south, Ma'el had left such a lasting impression during his centuries-earlier visitations that he was treated as a deity. He was seeking the most recent knowledge of their affairs, but instead of answers he was heaped with costly presents of finely-worked golden ornaments, weapons, and armor. As a god he was expected to already know the answers to everything and it was felt that no lesser being could relieve his pretended ignorance without offering him the gravest of insults. It fell to Sinead and Declan, who as his servants were not considered to be omniscient, to find the answers to Ma'el's questions and relay them back to him.             They, too, were heaped with presents and favors of every kind although not on the same lavish scale. But Sinead, who had to bind herself into becoming a boy again because the Inca females were considered something less than human, was becoming increasingly dissatisfied with the situation and said so.             "I'm not," said Declan, steadying his heavy, golden helmet with one hand while he spun on his heel so that his cloak flared out in spectacular fashion. "They dress us like royalty."             "Yes," she said, "and their High-Inca discards even the richest of cloaks after only one wearing. That is taking conspicuous waste to extremes."             Declan glanced at the nearest passersby, none of whom were as richly attired as they were, and said, "Keep your voice down."             "My translator collar is off," she said impatiently. "Look at them. They match the engineering feats of the Romans with their bridges and royal roads, their agricultural projects, their temples, and their art. And they are trying to join their empire together by teaching their people a common language. But the people themselves, a few are too rich and the rest too poor. And the way they treat their womenfolk is ..."             She broke off to glare at him. "Speaking of which," she went on, "I as a boy have been offered the facilities of the High-Inca's harem by the head of his household, heaven help the man's foolish wit, as I know you also have been. If you even look as though you are tempted, or if you ever call me "boy" in public again ..."             "I would never dream of calling you a boy in private," said Declan, smiling. "But this is not like you. Why are you so argumentative today?"             "... I shall instantly and on the spot," she ended furiously, "render you incapable of fathering any more children."             "More children ...?" Declan began. Then suddenly the meaning of what she had said dawned on him and he stopped in his tracks to sweep her very gently into his arms, not caring what the onlookers would think about him embracing and kissing what appeared to be a boy.             "Are you sure?" he said. "Have you had a timesight?"             "I have had a timesight," she replied when he had loosened his arms enough for her to breathe. "It was about this empire. It will grow rich and top-heavy and, many years in the future, a little over one hundred men, soldiers from our Europe, will bring it down and loot it of all its treasures. But no, there are ways other than the timesight that let a woman know when she is with child.             "I said nothing until I was certain," she ended, smiling. "But now let us return to Ma'el and tell him, among other things, that he is to be a godparentâ??"             Ma'el reacted to the news, as he did to everything else, with no visible change of expression.             "Your information regarding the social organization and work activities among the lower orders of Inca, and in particular your timesight covering their eventual fate, is enough for me to complete my report on this culture. Later tonight, when the occurrence will cause minimum disruption to the local population, you will bring our vessel down from orbit on remote control and prepare to leave for the Aztec Empire on the north continent. Do not overload the vessel with the rich apparel you have been given here, because it would attract unwelcome attention in Hibernia, and take instead the goblets, ornaments, and coins made from precious metals which may be exchanged for services in any part of the world.             'The news that you are expecting to produce one or more of your kind," he went on, fixing his attention on Sinead, "is not a surprise since your recent emotional bonding and continuing regular episodes of physical interpenetration has made such a consequence inevitable. Are there any precautions to be taken, do you expect a deterioration in your physical capabilities and, if so, how soon is that likely to take effect? Should our planned visits to the Aztecs and Cathay be advanced or postponed until after the birthing time? In the absence of sufficiently advanced infant life-sustaining mechanisms on this world, will Declan and yourself share this work and if so, how much time will be available for your duties as my only technically trained advisor and protector? You must already know that a space vehicle of limited size is not a suitable environment for very young progeny, so have you thought about where you should five?"             By the time he had finished speaking, Sinead's face had darkened to a deep pink except for the white lines around the mouth where her lips were pressed tightly together.             "For some time," Ma'el went on in his gentle voice, "I have observed that your features and conversational tone has been reflecting increasing excitement and pleasure, and now that I know the reason I am pleased for you. But I have asked questions which require serious consideration, and answers must be found for them."             The angry color suffusing her face began to fade as Sinead replied, "I have considered some of the answers, but the decisions taken on the others require the joint agreement of Declan and myself, or even all three of us. Subject to your consent, your laboratory would be spacious and safe enough to raise ..."             She broke off, shook her head in puzzlement before going on, "I'm most grateful, Ma'el, that you do not intend to dismiss us from your service because of this. But you do not show any strong feelings about something which to us is of surpassing importance. Coming from another world as you do, you are perhaps in the position of a farmer who cares for and cherishes certain animals among his stock, but not to the same extent that he would if it was happening in his own family. If this was happening on Taelon, how would you feel?"             Ma'el inclined his head. 'The situation would not be the same," he said. "There are natural limits to procreation. Short-lived species like yours breed freely and often in order to compensate for the natural losses from old age, accident, and disease. By comparison the Taelon are immensely long-lived. That being so, there is an evolutionary imperative which limits reproduction so that the resources of the planet and its population will remain in balance. Consequently the incidence of birthing is very low, in fact, rare, and the arrival of a newborn Taelon is a cause for planet-wide celebration.             "As you will already have observed," he went on, "this shell of flesh and organic sensors that I hold about myself in human company has features that do not register subtle changes of emotion. However, as I have said earlier, I am truly pleased for you, Sinead, and I offer my congratulations to you both."             Sinead was smiling again. Declan tried to control his feelings and the facial expression that would have revealed his growing discontent with the situation and the problem that was developing. He needed time to think it through.             Ten days later he still had not found an answer that satisfied him completely, and it was not a time to think about anything but his immediate surroundings while he forced his aching mind to remember all that Ma'el had told Sinead and himself about the principal local godsâ??including the strange fact that they were constantly at war with each other so that their worshippers had to walk a careful spiritual path between themâ??lest an unguarded word cost the visitors their lives.             There was Quetzalcoatl, the Winged Serpent, of whom it was said that he had journeyed to the underworld to collect the bones from which he had fashioned mankind after sprinkling them with his own blood. His sacrificial offerings of human meat were distributed among his worshippers and in particular to barren women. His rival, Tezcatlipoca, the ever young and virile Creator of the Universe, was god of the night sky, sorcery, and all warriors. Considering the long-axe he carried at all times, it was assumed that Declan might be of his worshippers. And then there was Huitzilopochtl, the manifestation of the Sun who continually battled against the forces of night and darkness. He required, as he did today, the regular sacrifice of human hearts and blood that gave him strength.             Declan did not like being present at living human sacrifices, and Sinead certainly did not approve of the practice although it did enable her to observe the precise and wholly admirable surgical skill used to remove the still-beating human heart for consumption by the high priest, and later to acquire some of the instruments employed during the operation for her own use in future curative procedures when, she hoped, the patient would stand a greater chance of survival.             Neither of them could understand why the sacrificial victims were so happy to die in this fashion.             Moving in stately and unhurried fashion a few paces behind and below Ma'el, and surrounded by an escort whose priestly robes almost put the sun to shame, Sinead and he climbed the broad, stone stairway toward the sacrificial altar atop the great Temple of the Sun whose massive pyramid dominated the Aztec capital city of Teotihuacan.             They had been traversing one of the broad terraces that broke their long ascent to the top, and Sinead's attention had been on the view of the city and jungle all around them, when an uneven section of paving caused her to stumble. Immediately Declan's hand reached out to steady her.             Sinead turned off her collar translator so that the others around them would not comprehend the words, then said irritably, "Stop that. I'm with child, not a cripple, and I'm supposed to be a boy." She smiled suddenly. "As yet I'm not even a fat boy."             She was silent while they continued their stately climb to the level of the darkly stained altar stone with its array of shining bronze cutting tools and the three sacrificial victims, smiling happily and with eyes dulled by the potent native drugs, then she said in a voice whose softness could not conceal its anger, "I wish this bloody foolishness was over."             Three days later they left Teotihuacan to travel in a wide curve to the northeast that would bring them ultimately to the hills, lakes, and forests of the Algonquin whose nation spread over the north continent's eastern seaboard. At Ma'el's direction they maintained a low altitude and a speed that would enable them properly to view the beauties of the intervening mountain ranges, deserts, forests, and rolling grasslands and the vast herds of buffalo that covered them with uneven blankets of moving fur. He did not say it in so many words but the implication was that he wanted Sinead to see as much of her own beautiful world as possible before the circumstances following the impending birth confined her to Hibernia.             That had been the matter uppermost in Declan's mind since he had learned of her condition. Now he had finally come to a decision which might displease both Sinead and Ma'el, and which he would have to make known to them as soon as possible and in a fashion that would cause the least hurt to both. Not for the first time he wished that he possessed the silver-tongued diplomacy of Brian, but he knew that a few simple words would have to suffice if he could only force them through the cowardly barricade of his teeth.             They were seated cross-legged by the dying cooking fire in the manner of the tribe, Ma'el said, whom they would be meeting on the morrow. It was important that they know and understand the beliefs and customs of the Algonquin who as persons were friendly and warm-hearted but as a nation warlike. In a voice that came as close to being enthusiastic as the old man was capable, he went on to tell them of the Kitcki Manitou, the Great Spirit and most powerful of all the Manitous, the Father of Life who was never created, and the source of all good things. The Great Spirit dwelt in Heaven and was above all other powers. He was master of light and was manifest in the sun. He was the breath of life and, as the wind, moved everywhere. The Algonquin believed that there was another great spirit, Mich-abo called the Great Hare, who was the father of the race and he created water, fish, and the great deer ... There was much more.             Sinead sat close beside Declan in the darkness, not speaking but holding his hand and often squeezing it in their shared impatience to be out of the night breeze and under the blankets where there was a very pleasant way to keep each other warm. That was the other reason why Declan decided to interrupt.             "Ma'el," he said, "you have said that when our visit to the Algonquin is completed, we will return to Hibernia for a time. For how long a time? What other visits do you plan, and when?"             There must have been something in his tone that worried Sinead because she gripped his hand again. He also felt the old man's eyes on him in spite of not being able to see them in the darkness.             "After Hibernia," Ma'el replied, "I have to pay a final visit to Cathay, and then retrieve the wagon we buried in the sand by the camel track. It contains devices that are necessary for the completion of my work. But these matters are not of great urgency and they will not require the presence of both of you ..."             "Wherever you take him," Sinead broke in firmly, her grip on his hand tightening, "it will be with me."             "... And they can wait for an opportune time," he went on. "But there is concern in your voice. What is the reason?"             Declan took a deep breath. "We will do as you bid us gladly," he said, "and with grateful hearts. But we will do it together, and sooner rather than later. As a father to be, it is my responsibility to provide sustenance and a safe home for my family. But that home ... " his voice became very serious, "... should not be a deep and sunless hole in the ground, a tomb shared with the bodies of hundreds of slain, even though their deaths were not intended. That is why I shall make proper provision for my wife and child, and if I am fortunate our children and, in the fullness of time, their children as well.             "I am sorry," he ended quietly but firmly, "this is a decision that is not susceptible to argument." CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO Ma'el Report. Day 112,293 ...             During the short stay in the laboratory which followed the visit to the Paramount Chief of the Algonquin Nation, and in spite of some nonsubtle questioning on my part, Declan did not elaborate on the plans for the future provision for his family and descendants. So far as I can detect he has not made further mention of it to Sinead, either. Normally he is not a secretive person, and I hope that he is formulating a plan and was not merely expressing a wish.             "Since neither of them require further training in ship handling or in the use of my other mechanisms, more time is being spent on discussions of this world's religious beliefs and philosophies. Both of them have keen and above all flexible minds that I enjoy seeing at work even though I do not always win the argument. But Declan's great bodily size and the monstrous long-axe he carries look strangely at odds with his growing aptitude as a debater.             "Except for the present visit to Cathay, I have decided that the constant revisiting of cities and cultures that are long familiar to me is no longer necessary for the conclusion of my report and may, in fact, be a psychological stratagem aimed at delaying its completion and the unwelcome recommendations to the Synod that it will contain.             'The present visit to the oldest and relatively most stable of this world's civilizations will be the last before the wagon is retrieved and I return to the Hibernian laboratory to complete the work that I was sent here to do." -             They had long become accustomed to walking on each side and a few paces behind Ma'el, and it seemed to Declan that only the costumes of those around them were different. As the foreign servants of their master, the rough and unembellished clothing of Sinead and himself aroused no comment and had changed not at all apart from her having to return to the pretense of being a boy, but this was because no mere female, much less a foreign servant woman, would have been allowed within the richly draped and decorated resplendence of the inner audience chamber of His Celestial Majesty the Emperor of Cathay.             Ma'el's dress was not as elaborate or costly as that of the Emperor, and had he been guilty of committing such a blatant act of impoliteness as to compete with the other in the matter of finery, the remainder of his life would have been short indeed. Nevertheless, while he appeared as dowdy as everyone else in comparison to the godlike presence into which he had come, the old man made an impressive figure.             From his cylindrical, richly embroidered skullcap and full, silken robes to the jewelled slippers encasing his feet, he was arrayed in the quietly resplendent apparel of a Mandarin of the Osprey Rank. His hands, held loosely at waist level, were encased in metal-stiffened gloves whose fingers extended beyond the elbows on both sides. This was an indication that a highborn personage like himself would not allow his fingernails to be cut and was therefore incapable of performing any task with his hands and, in fact, required servants to feed, clothe, clean, and perform all of the necessary actions of a personal or intimate nature that his lofty rank forbade him doing for himself. Suspended from his neck and held in position on his breast by silken cords tied around the waist was the most important part of his apparel, a small brassard of gold.             Yellow was the color of the Imperial House. The brassard of precious yellow metal signified that its wearer was an important and trusted servant engaged on the personal and urgent work of the Emperor, that he should be offered no let or hindrance, and that he should be given all possible assistance in men, time, or material resources in his performance of that duty.             That brassard would have taken them in perfect safety from the eastern face of the Great Wall, across the mountains, rivers, forests, deserts, and the often-unruly people that lay between, to the Imperial Palace in Xian where they now stood. But Ma'el had decided, in the interests of saving time, to avoid those natural hazards by flying over them.             They walked slowly to within five paces of the high dais which bore the Imperial throne before Ma'el stopped, went down on his knees, and then prostrated himself, arms outstretched on the processional carpet while Sinead and Declan did likewise. The Emperor made a small, permissive gesture signifying that the old man should rise and come forward to speak, but not so his two servants. They remained motionless and face down, for any movement might have been considered a threat to the Emperor, and the six massive and heavily armed statues ranged on each side of the Imperial throne, whose watchful eyes were the only parts of their bodies that seemed to move, would have come violently to life and killed them instantly.             Speaking in a soft voice which nevertheless seemed to reach every part of the audience chamber, Ma'el began to relate a fable which began and ended with a lie while the remainder contained the truth.             "Your Celestial Majesty," he said, "I am Ma'el. My father's father was given a task to perform by the former Emperor in the uncivilized lands beyond your western border. It was a mission of great political delicacy about which I would not wish to commit the impropriety of speaking in public, for at the time only the then Emperor and his principal advisor knew of it. Regrettably, circumstances including his untimely death prevented my grandfather from returning in person. He did, however, entrust his eldest son with the secret and through him his eldest son, my unworthy self, to report to you that the mission was successfully accomplished. I am also bound to return the symbol of Imperial trust and to renounce the high rank conferred on my grandfather, for I have no right to either."             There was silence for a moment, then the prostrate Declan heard the soft sound of slippers approaching and stopping beside Ma'el, a polite exchange of words as the brassard was removed and then the light clink and scrape of metal as it was placed on the lowest step of the Imperial dais. Only then did the Emperor speak.             "The personal loyalty to my illustrious predecessor," he said in a voice that was surprisingly strong to be coming from such a frail and ancient source, "that has been passed down to you in all its original strength is commendable. The symbol of office I shall reclaim but, in recognition and gratitude for your progenitor's services as well as your own exercise of discretion while returning it, the Order of a Mandarin of the Osprey Rank you shall retain for the remainder of your days. If there is anything else that you desire as a reward, be it riches, servants, a dwelling place commensurate with your position, or some other requirement, perhaps of a personal nature, you have but to name it. Rise. You have done well, Ma'el. You may speak."             Declan heard the soft rustle of the old man's silken robes as Ma'el rose to his feet and bowed low. "Your Celestial Majesty is most generous," he said, "but I neither need nor deserve material rewards for these poor services that have been done in the past. I am a man of learning, however, a philosopher, and some say a magician, who finds himself in your court, an establishment where knowledge of the natural sciences has been unsurpassed for thrice a thousand years and where true magic abounds. I would welcome a chance to spend some time among your great philosophers, and to speak with and learn from them. This, Great Emperor, is the only favor I ask."             There was a short silence, and when he replied the Emperor's voice sounded disinterested to the point of boredom.             "It is yours."             Thereafter Sinead and Declan were allowed to accompany Ma'el when his investigations took him into the hilly countryside outside the palace or during the night when, as palace custom dictated, his personal servant and his guardian were expected to sleep on the floor outside his chamber. At all other times, and provided they remained in the servants' area, they were free to go where they pleased because the self-acknowledged greatest minds in the world who occupied the Imperial College of Xian Palace would have found their presence a distraction during the weighty deliberations that were taking place there, and the old man had assured them that the assassination of a foreign visitor so soon after arrival, particularly when he had yet to reveal any useful information regarding the nations beyond the western wall, would have been considered a great waste as well as a grave impoliteness.             Forbidden the company of the great thinkers, they explored the rabbit warren of low-ceilinged service tunnels reeking of lamp oil and the even more smelly and horrendously overcrowded quarters of the thousands of slaves who were forbidden to show themselves unless something was required of them, and there they learned much. They did it by turning off their translator collars, pretending that they could speak only in their native Gaelic and proving it by making many ridiculous and often humorous mistakes. But they used their earpieces to listen to the conversations of senior slaves that the speakers thought were private, and in this fashion they were able to learn more than Ma'el. But the old man had recently taken to inviting the learned and venerable Hsung Hwa, who had the finest intellect as well as being the most entertaining of his Xianese mentors, to his quarters every evening. As a result the first chance Declan had to tell him of what he and Sinead had learned was when they were outside the palace in the late afternoon of the next day, where Ma'el was to be entertained to a demonstration of kite flying and, after dark, a display of pyrotechnics.             Hsung Hwa's silk-tented chair carried by six of his servants was about twenty paces ahead, and Declan had to make a great effort of will not to arouse the suspicions of Ma'el's bearers by dropping his voice when he spoke.             "Please listen carefully, Ma'el," he said. "I have no factual information, merely the overheard gossip of highly placed servants, but the talk is that you have aroused the suspicions of the Emperor. It is said that you appeared suddenly at night outside the palace gates, and try as they will, his countrywide army of Imperial spies is unable to uncover any evidence of your journey here. To him this means that your journey was undertaken in secret, that your progress was concealed by enemies wishing to overthrow the Emperor, and that your sudden appearance means that an uprising is imminent. It is rumored that you are shortly to be taken, tortured for whatever seditious information you possess, and killed. Sinead and I are unlikely to be spared. I strongly advise that we leave here without delay."             With a thoughtful inclination of his head, the old man said, "I expected that something like this was being planned for me, but not so soon. My work here is complete and there is no excuse for extending my stay other than intellectual pleasure, so I shall take your advice. The display of pyrotechnics is something you will not see elsewhere on your world, and I would not want either of you to miss it. I do not believe that I am in any immediate danger because the Emperor thinks it would be impossible for me to escape him. But if it will ease your minds, during our return to the palace this evening, I shall make an excuse to detach myself from Hsung Hwa, and you, Declan, can stand guard while Sinead brings our vessel down from orbit."             Declan was glad that Ma'el had insisted on delaying their departure until after nightfall because the kite flying was a truly wondrous sight. Many of them were box kites whose silken sides bore brightly painted designs which, according to the old man, had a religious significance. Others took the form of outsized birds with wings permanently outspread, or giant bats or flying dragons. One of them looked like the shadow monster that Sinead had made with her hands to frighten off the sea raiders off Finisterre at what now seemed to be a long time ago. They looked particularly beautiful when the last rays of the setting sun lit them against the darkening sky. As the highest of them were overtaken by the deepening twilight, a series of sharp, closely spaced detonations dragged their eyes groundward to the lower slopes of their hill where fountains of stars in a dazzling variety of colors were bursting upward into the heavens. A thunderclap accompanied every star burst.             Declan found it difficult to take his eyes off them, but fortunately, not impossible.             "Look there," he said urgently, pointing behind them. "Men with swords, eight, no, nine of them, coming out of the darkness above the shoulder of the hill. They probably expect us to be dazzled by the fireworks and unable to see them. Ma'el, we need the space vehicle, now!"             Hsung Hwa, who had been standing beside Ma'el, turned his head to follow the direction of Declan's pointing finger. The sight of the approaching men did not seem to surprise him, for he turned away without a word and, quickly for one of his advanced years, hobbled back to his carriage shouting orders to his slaves as he came. In a moment they were running down the slope. Ma'el's bearers, who had already abandoned their vehicle, were racing after them.             Sinead looked at the men advancing toward them, the light from the fireworks reflecting like stars off their swords.             "Ma'el," she said quickly, "we need your vessel to make a transdimensional jump, there's no time to bring it down through normal space. Do you want to do it?"             Ma'el replied by withdrawing the chart and the remote-control screen from his cloak and tossing them to the ground where they were already unfolding for use. He said, "Your digits are smaller and faster than mine."             Slowly and with the confidence of their greater numbers the men advanced in line abreast, swords carried across their chests. It was too dark to see their feet, but Declan felt sure that they were marching in step. Each end of the line was curving forward into a crescent formation, the obvious intention being to encircle their victims. Knowing that was not a tactically desirable situation when there was only one defender trying to protect three, he sprinted toward the center of the line with his long-axe swinging in wide circles around his head.             They heard him coming, but now it was their eyes that were being dazzled by the fireworks display behind him while his had grown accustomed to the darkness. His first blow knocked away his opponent's weapon and, judging by the sound he made, smashed the other's sword arm as well. He continued the swing toward the next man in line, who tried to turn away and received the axe blade in the small of the back. That one dropped to the ground, immobilized by legs that would no longer work. Of the six that were left, four moved out of range of his weapon intending to encircle him while the other two began running toward Sinead and Ma'el.             Those two had to be stopped.             It took a moment and several prodigious swings of his axe to break away from the four, and Declan was still several paces behind them when one of the two men grasped Ma'el by the cowl, baring his head and bringing the sword point to his throat, obviously intent on a capture and the extraction of information rather than a quick killing. Sinead was on her knees and looking down intently with both hands moving over the remote-control screen. The other man was closing on her with his weapon raised high to bring it down on the back of her neck.             For an instant, a terrible fear took Declan as he thought of that small, beautiful body he loved being converted into bloody dead meat, with her bright, agile mind and healing skills that together had labored and coaxed and nagged and finally loved him back to life gone forever, and with them their unborn child. Unable to control his feelings, he filled his lungs and emptied them with a sound, part scream of anger and pain at her expected loss and part bellow of sheer rage so loud and terrible that it frightened even himself. The men attacking Sinead and Ma'el froze at the sound, giving him a chance to get close before both turned to look at him. It was the last thing that they would ever do because by then his axe was already sweeping toward them in a wide, transverse swing that made a bloody end to both of them.             'This is difficult enough as it is," said Sinead irritably, her attention still on her rapidly moving hands, "without you getting blood all over my control screen. Can't you move the fight away?"             'Thank you, Declan," said Ma'el quietly, and went on, "Sinead, nullify the sound attenuators. When you bring the craft in, it must make much more noise than the fireworks."             Declan moved clear of them and the four remaining soldiers followed him, knowing that they would have to bring him down before they could risk attacking the other two. They circled him cautiously beyond the radius of his rapidly swinging weapon, occasionally jumping forward to try to stab him in the side or back as the axe head whistled past. He countered that by leaping forward, too, and shortening the distance to the attackers in front who retreated. Then one of them, plainly impatient with a game that nobody was going to win, moved back several paces. Grasping his blade at the weapon's center of balance, he hurled it spearlike at Declan's. The Hibernian dropped to his knees quickly and the blade glanced off his shoulder, opening a long cut in his forehead, eyebrow, and cheek as it spun away. Blood was running into one eye, partially blinding him, but he was able to see the thrown sword lying nearby. Still swinging the axe he rose to stand over it, knowing that while it was at his feet there were only three men with swords to contend with.             He swore as he saw the fourth man with what looked like a short knife in his hand moving toward Sinead and Ma'el, but he was too far away and too busy with the other three to do anything about it.             Suddenly the hillside was lit by an intense blue light and there was a deafening, hissing scream as the space vessel emerged from its dimensional jump almost on top of them, bleaching out the light of the fireworks and reducing their thunder to a low grumble. For a moment the four remaining attackers stood paralyzed by fear so that he could have slain them easily, but instead he watched them run screaming down the hill while Sinead brought the vessel into a gentle but incredibly noisy landing. Carefully, she folded and put away the chart and remote-control screen and followed Ma'el into the vessel with Declan close on her heels. The soundproof seal hissed shut behind them and they could hear themselves think again.             "Declan, you're wounded," Sinead said in an angry, concerned voice. "That eye ... Let me look at that eye before we lift off ..."             "Not yet," he said, and pointed through the forward screen into the valley where the fireworks display had ceased and the only lights visible were a few bobbing torches that were being carried by members of the fleeing crowd. Reassuringly, he went on, "My eye isn't damaged, just bloody, the cuts are above and below it. So first I want you to take us down there so that I can steal some of their abandoned fireworks. I might have a use for them ..." CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE Ma'el Report. Day 112,303 ...             Declan remains secretive regarding the setting up of a family home in Hibernia other than that it will not be in my laboratory, and his secrecy includes Sinead. His explanation for this is that if his plan proves not to be successful, only he will know the full measure of his disappointment Both of them remain intensely loyal to me. Over the past year they have become much more than friends and protectors. But I know that if either of them had to make the choice between myself and the other one, the decision would not go my way.             "I could implant each of them with a CVI, which would bind them emotionally to me rather than each other, but that would only make of them willing but unhappy servants, and they are already willing and happy to serve me while loving each other. I am in great need of their assistance, but I will not do such a cruel thing to them.             "Instead I will break the most important precept in the canons of both the Commonality of Taelon and its Synod by revealing to a lower order of intelligent life the truth. "Although not all of it..." -             Sinead had sewn closed the wound and covered half of De-clan's face with what he thought was an unnecessarily large and foul-smelling pad, when she sat close beside him and lifted one of his arms to wrap it tightly around her waist. They had returned to orbit; both the sun and the moon were hiding somewhere behind the darkened world below them so that the stars that filled the sky were bright and beautiful and seemed closer than they had ever been before. She put her head on his shoulder and sighed.             "Ma'el," she said, "when will we be finished with all this traveling, and the killing even when we only have to watch it rather than being forced, as in Cathay, to take part in it? The way I feel these days, the constant fighting and needless cruelty down there on our world seems so stupidly wrong. With your Taelon knowledge, cannot you teach us to make our world a place where a child can grow and learn in health and safety?" She gestured at the crowded sky beyond the forward screen. "Look at the stars where you live, they are so lovely and serene and, and most of all, peaceful."             When Ma'el replied there was more pain and anger in his usually quiet voice than they had ever heard in it before.             "Believe me," he said, "the stars are not peaceful."             They were silent knowing that to ask questions would only delay the answers that were coming.             "You inhabit one small and at present unimportant world among many hundreds," he went on quietly, but with the angry edge remaining in his voice. "The peoples of some of them are less intelligent than yours and some, including the Taelon, are more. Most of these species have no idea of the fate that lies before them and a few, again including the Taelon, do. You know of the wanton cruelty and indiscriminate slaughter that many of your kings and emperors have meted out to their own people as well as those of neighboring countries to bring themselves to power, and the even greater crimes committed by them to maintain it. But those excesses are as nothing compared to the actions on a planetwide scale by the Jarridians, who begin by ..."             "Whâ??what does a Jarridian look like?" Sinead broke in. In the dim lighting of the control canopy her face had gone a sickly shade of gray and suddenly her body felt as stiff and unyielding as a statue.             "It is plain from the language of your body muscles," said Ma'el, gentleness retaining to his voice, "that you already know. You had a timesight that you did not tell me about?"             "No." Sinead shook her head in agitation, then immediately contradicted herself. "I mean, yes. I was sleeping at the time and thought it was a nightmare, not real and therefore not worthy of mentioning. It was in a city of the far future, with tall buildings whose walls had more glass in them than bricks and smoothly paved streets crowded with people and shiny, brightly colored horseless coaches, and I could see and hear one of the metal birds flying high overhead. The thing, whatever it was, rampaged through the streets sending out thin bolts of lightning that burned and cut down the people even as they fled and made the vehicles explode into flames. The screaming was terrible to hear."             Her hold on Declan tightened as she went on, "It was like a squat, metal beast, or perhaps a beast encased in metal armor, but a beast it certainly was. Despite the entreaties of the men and women around it, it burned and killed and destroyed completely without mercy and nobody could stop it. I, I could not believe that it was real. Are you saying that it is?"             'The Jarridians," said Ma'el, "are real."             Declan felt the stiffness in her body begin to ease. Now that Sinead's worst fear was confirmed, some perverse streak in her nature was enabling her to regain control of herself.             She said calmly, "In the dream, I mean the timesighting, nobody there could stop the Jarridians. Can you?"             "No," said Ma'el, "not without help."             Declan said, "Sinead did not mention this to me, either, so I know nothing about the strengths or weaknesses of this seemingly unbeatable enemy. Will it come here?"             "Yes," Ma'el replied. "Sooner or later they will find your world."             "Terrible they may be," said Declan in a quietly furious voice, "but they will not find it an easy conquest."             "I know," said Ma'el, "and that is what gives me hope."             For a long, silent moment Declan and Sinead looked at each other, then she detached his arm from around her waist before she spoke.             "You say that you need our help and you must already know that you will have it," she said and, smiling, patted her waist, "at least until the expected event is imminent and, naturally, after I am safely delivered and the child is well. What do you want us to do for you? And you said that we gave you, or perhaps you were including your people, hope. Can you clarify that?"             It was Ma'el's turn to be silent as he looked from one of them to the other. Finally he said, "Over the past year you have become my protectors and trusted friends. You are not my slaves nor are you bound to me in any way other than by your self-imposed bonds of gratitude and duty. In the light of the event to come, the duty of parents to care for their offspring becomes the prime consideration and is, in fact, an evolutionary imperative that supersedes any duty that you may think you owe to me. Both of you are free to leave my service, with my gratitude and what some people on this world would call my blessings, at any time you choose."             "Thank you, Ma'el," said Sinead. "But you haven't answered my question. We ask again, what help do you need from us?"             "And there is another question," Declan said before Ma'el could reply. "Why do we, a lowly and ignorant race by Taelon standards, give you hope?"             "I need help," Ma'el replied, looking at Sinead, "to recover my wagon, which contains treasure, devices, and records necessary for the completion of my report on your world. It must be brought back from the desert on what should be its final journey to Hibernia. This task can be accomplished within the physiological time limit imposed by the birthing and, as will shortly be explained, without risk to either of you. The second question ..." he turned his eyes on Declan, "... will require time and in all probability a lengthy debate between us if it to be answered fully. I do not have the time to answer it now.             "Please attend to my words ..."             ... To return the wagon to Hibernia with the fewest possible risks, he explained, would mean employing the same ship and trusted crew as they had used on the way out. Unknown to Captain Nolan, Ma'el had placed a combination tracer and listening device in the other's cabin and he was aware, therefore, of both the ship's position and its reason for being there. At present it was three days from Alexandria where, after leaving Brian for nearly half a year in Egypt for reasons the diplomat had not mentioned to anyone, it was returning to bring him home. Declan would land at night as close as possible to the ship's berth, make contact with the captain, and enlist his help in recovering the wagon which would be cleared of its sandy protection to await him driving it back to the Orla for its return to Hibernia. There was no need for Sinead to take part in this routine matter since she and Ma'el would be watching over the entire operation from orbit. Ma'el showed him how to make his ear ornament and translation collar act as a long-range communications system so that the three of them could speak to each other when necessary.             And so it was that Declan flanked by Captain Nolan and Black Seamus presented themselves at the gates of the caravanserai. For sailors they looked strangely at ease on their mounts, but he supposed that the transition from the heaving deck of a ship to the saddle of a galloping horse was an easy one. He identified himself, unnecessarily since the guard detail seemed already to know him, as Declan the Hibernian and friends who wished words with their officer. Bashir was with them in moments.             "Declan!" he cried. "I did not expect to see you alive, much less looking so well. Any friends of yours are friends of mine and are welcome here ..." he looked at the fierce countenance of Black Seamus, and smiled, "... and this one I wouldn't want as an enemy. What can I do for you ...? But I forget my manners. Dismount and refresh yourselves and tonight we shall talk of that glorious battle and ..."             "Thank you, Bashir," said Declan, "but again I am pressed for time. My master and the other servant are elsewhere, so we will not be assisted by his magic or a screaming djinn ..."             "Relieved I am to hear it," said Bashir.             "... But I must retrieve his wagon and the valuables it contains from their place of concealment in the desert. For that I need one of your officers and a mounted escort to convey them to Alexandria. That is if you can spare the men and we can agree on a price."             "The escort would be happy to be led by you," Bashir said, and laughed, "whether or not you call down another djinn. Since that battle and rescue of the caravan, our warlike local sheik has left us in peace. So I can spare the men and you, Declan, my fierce and fair-minded friend, can set the price. But it will take a little time for the escort to be readied and provisioned for the journey. Please friends, dismount and take refreshment ..."             It was eight days later, Orla was three hours out of Alexandria, the sun was dying a spectacular death off their starboard bow, Ma'el's wagon was again tightly secured in its former position amidships, and Declan was looking forward to the evening meal in the captain's cabin. He had spoken to the orbiting vessel many timesâ??the collar enabled this to be done in an undertone and it did not matter if some of the crew thought he was talking to himselfâ??and mostly in soft and private words to Sinead.             Brian had gained several inches around his waist and looked to be his usual cheerful self but, Declan thought, there was a look in his eyes which suggested that he had matters on his mind that were making it difficult to hold his smile in place.             "Declan, it is good to see you again," he said, when they had finished the meal and more of Brian's wine had been poured, "even though your face is showing a few more scars. Perhaps you can pass the time amusingly for us by telling how you came by them, always bearing in mind that a certain amount of exaggeration for dramatic effect is expected. Drink up, friend, and tell us of your adventures."             Without returning the other's smile, Declan shook his head.             "Come, now," said Brian, "shyness sits oddly on such a large and heavily scarred man. The captain, Seamus, and I already know all about each other, your magician master and the young woman healer aren't here to entertain us although, since there is no female company to offend, we might talk about the women we have known. Were we to do that, however, Seamus would use it as an excuse to talk endlessly about the young woman in Cobh to whom he has lately become betrothed, perhaps the one foretold by Ma'el. We all wish him joy, but I do not want to listen to any more of his lovelorn conversations. You, at least, will spare me that fate."             Again Declan shook his head. "With respect," he said, "I will not."             They were all staring at him, surprised not as much by his reply as by the serious tone of his voice.             "You are trusted friends," he went on, looking from the captain to Black Seamus and ending with Brian, "and ones whose unique experience and advice will be of great value to me. For I, too, love a young woman. I will not list her abilities and attributes and strength of character because you know them and have already met her, and the gentle intensity of our love is something that we feel but will never speak of to others.             "She bears our child."             They continued to look at him so intently that it seemed that they had forgotten to breathe, and the lengthening silence made the sounds of the ship's timbers, the wind in the rigging, and the gentle, irregular tapping of the helmsman Tomas's wooden leg seem loud.             "This being so," he went on, feeling the warmth of embarrassment spreading over his face but ignoring it, "I must provide a safe and comfortable home for my wife and child, and the others that may come, so that they will not go hungry or in fear. Once I had such a home and the lands to support it, but in my headstrong youth I left, or rather I was forced out of the inheritance that was rightfully mine. Now I am mature and, I think, more thoughtful and aware of my responsibilities, so I want to return to my people and reclaim my home.             'That," he ended simply, "is why I need your advice and help."             It was Brian who broke the silence. He said, "Declan, I speak for all of us when I say that we will help you in whatever way we can. The way Ma'el and your young wife and yourself defended this ship and treated its wounded demands no less. But with respect, to me you always seemed uncomfortable in the role of a servant. If you feel yourself free to do so, will you tell us your family name and the position of the land that you wish to reclaim?"             Declan did so.             Brian slapped his hand so hard on the table that wine spilled over the rims of their goblets. "I know of these lands. I remember the sad and dishonorable story told about them. There was a great wrong done by a stupid, petty-minded, and cruel father to his only son who was driven to ..."             He broke off, his eyes beginning to shine with the excitement of a challenge. "Oh, Declan, my friend, you have given us a puzzle whose solution will make this voyage pass quickly indeed. It is prime meat for the platter of a devious-minded person like myself, and it is a matter with which I can and will help you although I will, of course, disclaim all knowledge of it. But righting this particular and long-standing wrong will involve more than the settling of a longstanding family dispute over the ownership of a few paltry acres of land.             "Declan, you are, no, we will be plotting high treason!" CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR Ma'el Report. Day 112,353 ...             Contact is being maintained between the vessel in orbit and the sailing craft bearing my wagon, where Declan has ostensibly developed the habit of muttering to himself at odd times of the day or night. Since the revelation of his origins, the majority of the conversations have been between him and Sinead, who was irritated at him for not first telling her of his intentions regarding setting up a home for them. His response was that, to avoid disappointing her, he had not wanted to reveal his hopes and plans until they had a reasonably good chance of coming to fruition, which they now have. She said that if he got into trouble he would need a healer and she wanted to return to the surface and accompany him on the venture. I advised against this because of her physiological condition, and Declan agreed with me and expressly forbade her to do so.             "On a surface voyage as well as in orbital flight there is little for such short-lived, impatient people to do except look at the sea or, in her case, the stars, so that they have begun to discuss my problems, although often it felt to me like an interrogation in depth rather than a discussion. It is becoming increasingly difficult to conceal information from them and they are learning more about my work than subjects of an investigation should be allowed to know.             "They are engaging my mind with the empathy and persistence of Companions, and with the counsel of my fellow Taelons no longer available to me by my own choice, I find their concern strangely warming.             "Sinead had another timesighting. The episodes are spectacular in their detail but irregular in the intervals of manifestation. It frightened her badly, as it frightens me, because if my planned recommendations to the Synod are to be followed, she should not be able to foresee these future events because they should not happen.             "With advancing age and the diminishing faculties that isolation from the Commonality brings, I am becoming increasingly dependent on them, and again considered investing each of them with a Scrill weapon and the cyberviral implant which together would greatly increase their physical and mental powers as well as binding them emotionally to me to the exclusion of their present feelings for each other. But this would not have been fair to them because, as well as the strong emotional bond they have formed for each other, they remain faithful to me and their minds are already of admirable quality. I have finally decided to let them follow their own inclinations and not to interfere in any way.             "By Earthly good fortune rather than through the intervention of Taelon technology, the surface vessel Orla carrying my equipment made a fast and uneventful journey to Cobh."             Once again Declan strode through the wide, cloth- and garment-hung entrance of the tailoring establishment and bath house of Padraig of Cashel to stop before the long garment cutting table. The old tailor and his seamstress wife looked as though they had not changed position since the time of his first visit. Padraig moved his work aside, climbed stiffly to the floor.             "A good day to you," he said, smiling, "and pleased we are to see you again. You show a few more scars, and that helmet has seen serious use, but otherwise you look well. Is the young servant who was with you also in good health?"             Declan nodded his appreciating of the other's careful choice of words because at that time he had thought Sinead was a boy and the old tailor had known she was not.             "She fares well," he said, returning the other's smile, "in spite of now being my wife." He tapped the side of his helmet. "She sends her sincere thanks for your contribution to keeping my head intact. I regret my haste and seeming discourtesy, but there is an urgent service that I would ask of you. That is if you and perhaps your many relatives are capable of performing it."             Padraig inclined his head and waited for him to go on.             Lifting his heavy satchel onto the table, Declan opened it and withdrew a scroll which he unrolled and held flat while the other read it with a face that grew paler by the moment.             "I can provide all that you need," Padraig said finally, "but it will take time. I will have to employ many of my female relatives as seamstresses, and my brother will need more help at the smithy to beat out all these weapons. The horses and other equipment are less difficult to obtain, but expensive. Have you considered the cost?"             "Yes," said Declan, reaching into his satchel again.             "And you must realize," Padraig went on quickly as if ashamed of having mentioned the subject of payment, "that with the best will in the world these arrangements cannot be kept secret. There will be talk and it is sure to reach the high and powerful of this land." He tapped the list with a bony index finger. "Declan, are you preparing to fight a war?"             "You have been honest and even kindly in your previous dealings with me," said Declan, temporarily avoiding the question, "which is why I am asking for an additional favor. I know there will be talk, but I would like you to do most of the talking and to guide any wild rumors there may be back onto the paths of good sense. You might point out that I am not a threat to this province since I will be equipping and training my men outside Cashel and in full view of the King of Munster so that my warlike intentions must therefore lie elsewhere, and in the meantime the traders of this town will be benefiting from the gold I shall spend. If asked I would be pleased to explain my plans to your king, but not the position of their objective.             "The answer to your question is that I am preparing to fight a small war," he went on. "I will prepare for it so well, with cavalry and foot soldiers dressed and equipped uniformly and trained so highly that their very appearance and bearing will instill fear in an enemy, that it might not be necessary to fight it. At least, that is my hope.             "And to answer your unspoken question," he ended, "I have no purse of gold for you this time, but I hope that these, when melted down, with the gems and precious metals they contain, will cover the cost. If it should be necessary, more of them will be provided."             From his bag he took the golden shield, helmet, and wide, ornamental cuffs that had been given to him by the Aztecs and laid them on the workbench. Padraig's wife rose from her seat and hobbled forward for a closer look. For a long moment they neither breathed nor spoke.             "They, they are beautiful," Padraig said when he had again found his voice. 'The craftsmanship, the delicacy of the embellishments... I have never before seen or heard of their like. It would be a crime beyond crimes to melt them down. If I may ask, how and where did you come by them?"             "They are gifts," said Declan in a voice that politely discouraged further questions, "from the rulers of a far country."             "My apologies, I did not mean to pry," said Padraig, and suddenly he smiled. "But you will not be surprised to discover that I have another cousin, a distant one who moves in high places, too high for us to have need of him, until now, that is. He is a usurer, a money lender among other things, and a provider of services to those in the highest places. In these islands and in Gaul he will know of rich Roman governors and kings who would welcome these as unique additions for display in their treasure vaults. Even with the exorbitant fee my cousin will charge for making the arrangements, the sale of this strange helmet and these accessories undamaged and whole as they are will bring you a goodly sum that should be enough for your purposes.             "It will, however, take a little time."             It took more than a little time. On his return, Brian and Captain Nolan said that it might take anything up to a year, and agreed with him that he should not begin choosing and training his force until he was able to pay and equip them. Black Seamus would not have been averse to a long stay in Cork, since it would have allowed him more time with his Maeve. But Brian, regrettably, would shortly have to separate from them because he had to report back to his principals without further delay. So they sailed east and then northward past the ragged western edges of the kingdoms of Munster and Connaught to the harbor of Sligo. There Declan and Ma'el's wagon were disembarked in pouring rain within a short drive from the Strand Hill, their final destination, before Orla continued to its home port of Donegal town in the Kingdom of Tirconnel.             The night was wet, heavily overcast, and Ma'el's sensors reported nobody within visual distance but themselves when he drove the wagon into a narrow, steep-sided ravine and released the horse to find its own way home just as the space vehicle dropped to a silent landing beside him. Sinead ran to him and wrapped her arms so tightly around him that she seemed intent on squeezing the life out of his body while complaining that listening to him in her earpiece was not the same as having him there. Declan had no argument for that But they had to prise themselves apart to help the old man transfer most of the wagon's contents to the space vehicle, after which it was concealed as it had been earlier in the desert by collapsing the walls of the ravine and covering it. Sinead made the dimensional jump into the laboratory where as soon as possible they resumed trying to squeeze each other to death, among other delightful things.             The days and nights, which were the same inside Ma'el's caverns, passed happily through the late summer into the autumn and winter with Sinead seeming to grow larger by the day. In a poor attempt at humor he had once called her "fat boy," but she had cried sorely and he did not do so again. She was afraid, or at least deeply concerned, and he thought he knew why. But in the intensity of his own concern his manner in broaching the subject that night was direct and not as gentle as he would have wished.             "I am a very large man," he said, "and you are a small woman. My own mother was small and perfectly formed and, I was told, very beautiful as are you. She died bringing me into the world. I have felt the movements, the kicking in your belly, and they are very strong. Iâ??I am fearful that it will happen again."             Sinead blinked and looked away for a moment, and when she turned her eyes on him again they were wet.             "So that is what has been eating at you for these past weeks," she said gently. "I, too, am concerned but not afraid. Ma'el says that it seems to be a law of nature on this world that small women are attracted to large and even ugly men, look at Seamus the Black and his Maeve ..." she smiled impishly, "... although you are not quite as ugly as he is. They mate with men who will give them big and healthy children, they have been giving birth to such children since time began, and as a rule they do not die while doing so. The deaths that occur have other causes. Besides, you forget that I am a healer, that Ma'el's scanner enables me to look inside myself, and that so far all is well."             "You are sure?"             "As sure as I can be," she said, moving closer to him, "so ease your mind because there are other matters to concern it. And speaking of which, are you not being overambitious? I would be happy with you on a small farm or a ..."             "No," said Declan firmly. "I want a secure home for my family to be, not one that can be threatened by robber bands or wars between neighboring tuaths. Besides, I do not see myself as a farmer ..." He broke off, then went on in an excited voice, "... You said that Ma'el's scanner showed you that everything was all right. Could you see if ... Is it a boy? Or a girl?"             "Yes," she said.             "I meant," said Declan, "if you could see which it was?"             "Yes," she said again. "It is, or rather they are, one of each."             On Declan's next interdimensional visit to Cashelâ?? Padraig no longer remarked on the fact that he appeared suddenly out of the darkness on foot and departed in the same fashionâ??Sinead warned him that she was nearing her time and would not be able to fly him there again until it was all over. But it transpired that Padraig's cousin, after an initial lack of success throughout Roman Britain, was reporting serious interest in the Aztec treasures from their own Hibernian Kingdom of Dalriada that was being led by an unobtrusive court advisor and diplomat called Brian O'Rahailley, but that the transaction was not expected to be completed until the late spring. Padraig, who seemed unusually knowledgeable about such matters for a tailor, listed the strategic and tactical advantages of fighting a war in the summer. Declan received the news with happiness and relief because it meant that he would be close to Sinead when she needed his reassurance most.             But when the time came, he was terrified rather than happy because she wanted more from him than spoken reassurances.             "Listen closely to me, Declan," she said in a voice that was firm and impatient between her increasingly frequent gasps of pain, "and stop shaking as if you had an ague. We cannot bring another woman in here even if I would trust myself to a local midwife, which I would not. But you are level-headed, have steady hands, and are not afraid of the sight of blood, all of which you proved when we took off the leg of Tomas the helmsman. This will be much easier for you, so stop shaking your head." A grimace of pain tightened her mouth for a moment before she turned it into a smile and said, "After all, you are only helping to take out what you already put in, so just follow my directions and we will both be all right ..."             She continued to give directions, not only during the double birth itself but for cutting and tying off both umbilical cords and slapping the newborns' bottoms until they cleared the fluid from their lungs with thin wails of protest, and for removing the afterbirth. Again at her direction, Declan and the old man gently washed the blood from the infants' bodies, and the boy, who was in Ma'el's arms, began crying again until a thin, Taelon fingertip was placed gently in his mouth and he sucked at it and was quiet. Declan placed the girl on Sinead's breast, and Ma'el, his eyes seeming to be larger and softer than usual, did the same with the boy before they tucked a warm blanket around all three of them.             Declan looked down at Sinead, unable to find any words that would convey what he was feeling while she looked up at him. Never before had he seen a woman look so pleased and proud of herself.             'They're very hungry," she said finally. "I'm fortunate that there weren't more than two of them." CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE             It was a strange force that Declan led, too small to be considered an army that would worry the tuaths and small kingdoms through which it passed, and a little too large and well-disciplined for them to be mistaken for a band of marauding robbers. Even stranger, but more reassuring, was the fact that while his men were more than capable of living off the land by going out and taking what they needed in the way of food or reluctant female company, they did neither of these things. Instead they remained close to their tents, spent the daylight hours engaged in fighting drills and kept no company but their own while Declan replenished the supplies for men and animals by paying the local farmers and town merchants a fair price for them.             After one look at his size, weapons, and scarred face, they thought better of trying to ask an unfair price.             The traders were happy as were the local clan chiefs and minor kings who exacted their tithes for these transactions. When anyone asked about his intentions he would reply that he was on the way to settle a land dispute involving a small kingdom, which he would prefer not to name, in the far west of Connaught. And now he was here.             The territory stretched from the lower slopes of the Nephan Beg mountain to the eastern shore of Loch Conn and enclosed three large towns, many farms, a lake fishery, fields well populated with cattle, and all dominated by a sprawling, uneven castle of stone and wood that covered the top of a low hill. It was a land that was fertile but with too many rocky outcroppings to make its cultivation easy, and it was doubly beautiful in that he had not expected ever to see it again and because it was his home.             He halted his men within clear sight of watchers in the castle but far enough from the line of defenders placed across his path to make it clear to them that, even though his force was better equipped and outnumbered theirs by two to one, he did not intend to attack at once. Instead he led his horsemen forward until they faced the other line at a little more than speaking distance, then he dismounted and walked forward in the prescribed manner to show that he wanted talk before fighting.             The defending line ranged from the old to the very young. A little over half of them carried swords and shields; the rest looked as if they had been called from the fields in haste and bore only their farming implements, and only ten of them were mounted. One of these, a huge, white-haired man of enormous girth who carried a long-axe that was the twin of his own, dismounted and came forward to stop within two paces of him. Declan put out his hand and spoke first.             "Your hair is white, Liam Mor," he said, "and your horse must dearly love you when you are not on its back, but I see that you still favor the long-axe."             Big Liam moved closer to stare intently at Declan's face, the old eyes under the thick, white brows lighting up with recognition. "The face is badly marked," he said, laughing, "and I hope you seriously chastised your barber for it, but ... young Declan, is it you?"             The question was unnecessary because their handshakes changed suddenly to bear hugs that lasted for several moments before they broke apart with reluctance and Big Liam spoke very seriously.             "Good it is to see you well, young Declan," he said, "but now we know that we must do battle."             "But not this day," said Declan, smiling, "perhaps not ever. I have something to show you." He nodded toward the castle. "Does he still live, and is he watching?"             "He lives but not, I think, for long," said the other, glancing at Declan's weapon, "whether it is your long-axe or his slow, wasting illness that takes him. He is in a pitiable state, if there is any pity in your heart after what he did to you. His wife and her two sonsâ??she gave him no other childrenâ??have been running the kingdom as best as they are able. They will be watching."             Declan nodded and pointed to the watch tower on top of a nearby hill. "As I remember," he said, "the stone and woodwork of that structure was unsafe and it was abandoned to the weather. Have you a use for it now?"             "No," said Big Liam, looking puzzled, "we await a large enough storm to tumble it."             "Good," said Declan, and turned briefly to give a prearranged signal to one of his wagon drivers who, moments later, began walking carefully toward the tower carrying a heavy urn. Smiling, he went on, "I'm going to meet my man there, place the device, and return at once, so there's no need for that overlarge body of yours to follow me up and down the hill."             Big Liam gave a huge sigh of relief and said, "Bless you, Declan."             When he returned he spoke to his men, but loudly enough for the mounted defenders to hear him as well. "Listen well to me. A device has been placed inside the tower which will make a very loud noise. Everyone, move well clear, then the horsemen will dismount and be ready to pacify their animals when it happens." To Liam, he added, "I filled that jar with fireworks powder from Cathay. I hope there was enough to ..."             A tremendous thunderclap rent the heavens and shook the ground under their feet. The roof and wood interior of the tower rose high in the sky like pieces of a burning fountain and its stonework burst open into bright red cracks and tumbled onto the hillside. Smaller pieces of rock and dust fell around them like a stony rainstorm.             "... There was enough," Declan said to Liam when the dust and smoke had cleared and they could hear each other again, then he added, "You have seen what I can do. Know that my force will take no hostile action against your people here unless they first offer violence to me, or if I do not return unharmed to them before sunset. I apologize for making these unnecessary threats to you, for I know you to be neither witless nor suicidal." He nodded toward the castle. "Now I would like to speak with himself."             "Alone?" said Liam in surprise. "Without your personal guards?"             Declan clapped the other on one massive shoulder. "When serious talking has to be done," he said, "I prefer the company of a sensible and honorable enemy rather than a too-loyal and perhaps excitable friend."             They remounted their horses and walked them slowly through the line of defenders towards the castle and into its courtyard where a groom, too aged and infirm by far to join the other servants in the defense of their king, took their mounts. Except for the empty echoing of their feet on the stone-flagged corridors they walked in silence to the audience chamber and almost to the throne itself before Declan stopped and gave a small bow. Liam Mor opened his mouth, but the king held up one skeletal hand for silence.             "I know who it is," he said in a voice that was even more fragile. "What does he want, or do I know that, too?"             Declan cleared his throat, silencing Liam once again.             Firmly, he said, "I can speak for myself, Father, and I will begin by telling you what I do not want."             He paused to look at the woman in the chair beside the old king and her two sons standing on each side of them. The queen, who had hated Declan as a child and worked constantly to drive him away so that one of her then very young sons would inherit, was still a handsome woman, but her features were almost disfigured by the fear she was trying vainly to hide. Her two sons, who were scarcely into their twenties now, were armed and plainly not afraid. The dark-haired one was staring at him, his lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line and arms folded tightly across his chest. The redhead was gripping the hilt of his still-sheathed weapon with knuckles white and looking as if he was about to do something brave and stupid. Declan did not want that.             If the redhead attacked him then so would his brother and, out of loyalty to his king, so would Big Liam. He did not want to be forced into killing anyone here, especially not the aging weapons master, Liam. It was time to use the subtler weapons of words.             "I have returned home," Declan went on, "But I do not want it to be a home freshly splashed with the blood of my father and his family and friends. You know of my forces and have seen what devastation I am capable of inflicting on this castle and the buildings in the nearby towns ..." He was not telling the entire truth, but this was not the time to tell all of it, that he had used more than half of his store of Cathay black powder in demolishing the watch tower. "... You must already have realized that if any harm was to be done to me here, a terrible and merciless fate would befall everyone serving this house and the kingdom it rules. My men are well-trained and disciplined, they obey my every word, and they would be frightful in their anger if any harm should come to me here. You should know also that they are being well rewarded for their work in helping me win this dispute and, if it can be accomplished without loss of life on either side, they will be doubly rewarded and I shall be very well pleased."             The dark-haired son was looking thoughtful, the redhead's grip on his weapon had eased and he was frowning in perplexity while their mother's face was showing suspicion rather than fear. Her eyes moved from Declan to her two sons and the king before she turned them on him again.             "But what," she said, speaking for the first time, "is to happen to us?"             "I am reliably informed," said Declan, without saying that the information had come from the very knowledgeable diplomat and spy, his friend Brian of Tirconnel, "that your kingdom has seen difficult times over the years since I was last here, with cattle raids along the southern border and incursions by neighboring tuaths seeking expansion and who thought that a king too ailing to take up arms against them would offer little resistance. But there was resistance, from you and your sons, who with great effort and difficulty and at times subtle statecraft, were able to maintain the kingdom within its original borders. Those difficulties would be reduced, and I would be grateful, if you were to remain here to advise and assist me in the future ordering and defense of this land of ours. However..."             The woman and her sons were watching him intently as he raised a cautionary finger toward her and went on, "... You may remain as queen but neither of your sons will inherit the throne. If at any time you should think otherwise, and plot against me, you will be banished and your sons will not live long to regret their error. Is this clearly understood by all of you?"             They did not reply but their expressions said that it was. It was his father who broke the silence.             "I, too, regret an error," he said in a voice so weak and close to a whisper that it sounded like the wind rustling through long grass.             A once powerful, broadly built, and fearless warrior king shaven down to a near-skeleton by age and wasting illness was a pitiable sight, Declan thought, and he felt the last of his anger and hatred drain from his mind. He moved closer, seeing out of the corner of his eye the redheaded son's hand tighten on his sword hilt and then loosen again.             Before Declan could speak, his father went on, "I regretted it soon after you left us, no, were driven to leave by me. A child cannot be held responsible for the death of his mother in childbirth. Perhaps the midwife shared some of the fault, but none of it was yours. But in the madness of my grief and stupidity I would not see this until long after you were gone." His voice strengthened a little. "I hereby forbid my queen, her sons and you, Liam Mor, or any of my people to raise a hand to defend me, for I know what I have done and the fate I deserve.             'Tell me, Declan, am I to die?"             "Yes ..." said Declan.             He took a long step forward and going down on one knee he grasped his father's hand, but carefully because the fingers were as fragile as the bones in a bird's wing.             "... But not before you have seen my wife, Sinead," he went on, "and held on your knees the boy and girl who bear our name. And not before you yourself as the reigning king are ready to die surrounded by your family and friends.             "With your permission I will leave you now," he went on quickly, because emotion in grown men, especially in himself, made him uncomfortable. "Liam Mor will want to stand down his men and I must withdraw mine and set up camp. You have many matters to discuss among yourselves. Take time to consider them well and then send word of the result to me."             He bowed again, looked into his father's shining eyes, then turned quickly to leave.             They were approaching the courtyard when a sudden, flat-handed blow struck his back, sending him staggering almost to his knees.             "Young Declan," said Big Liam, "that was well done. You will be a good king."             In his ear ornament he heard the voice of Sinead saying softly, "He is wrong, Declan. I have had a timesight. You will be a great king." -             And so it came to pass that Declan returned to his home and his father to the position of Ionadacht, the first lieutenant of the clan and heir to the kingdom. With him came Sinead and the two children, who increased in number to fiveâ??another boy and two more girls, all of whom grew up to be as strong and tall as himself or small and slender and comely like their mother. After a period of initial distrust and polite hostility, the queen and her two sons accepted the situation and worked hard and well for the kingdom. When his father succumbed to his illness, the old queen followed him to the grave within a few days. She had been a hard, ambitious, and gifted woman and healthy for her years, but it seemed that she had not the will to go on living without his father and there was nothing that Sinead's healing arts could do about that. Her two sons married well into the reigning families of neighboring tuaths, for love, Declan suspected, as well as statecraft, because the two princesses were beauteous and the two small kingdoms concerned joined with his and made it one of the strongest in all Connaught.             But strangely and in spite of many urgings, Declan made no attempt to use his power to expand further. His specially trained and fiercely able soldiers had either married locally or been rewarded and gone their own ways while his own young people were trained to replace them if or when the need should arise. Although he had learned the ways of war in many foreign countries as well as from orbital observations of great generals at work, Declan was an exceptionally gifted commander in the field who seemed more concerned with the maintenance of peace and the prosperity that went with it than the waging of war, and he became respected more than he was feared throughout the great provincial Kingdoms of Hibernia. -             Twice he was invited by his peers to the Hill of Tara, there to submit himself for election to the position of Ard-Ri, the High King, a station open only to those of proven courage and exemplary character. But graciously he refused the ultimate honor saying that he had matters requiring attention at home which involved him in enough responsibility.             The matters included secret visits to and by Ma'el. There was a small, natural cavern under the castle that had been used as a store in times of siege. Declan had caused it to be deepened and enlarged and had then sealed off its only known entrance with a massively thick wall of stone and by tumbling the roof of its access tunnel. It was thought that the chamber housed Declan's treasure and that there was a secret entrance, but if so its position had never been revealed to anyone, not even to the children or his most trusted advisors. This was because the most used way in and out was by the operation of the dimension-folding mechanisms on Ma'el's spacecraft.             Declan and his queen, Sinead, grew old; their children, with the exception of their first-born boy twin and heir called Mai after his godparent, left them to prosper or otherwise to be happy in other parts of Hibernia or far beyond, and the kingdom was stable and its people as content as they could hope to be in a still violent and uncertain land.             But there were other matters of importance for the present as well as the far future for them to discuss and settle with the person they still regarded as their friend and master in his laboratory under the Hill above the Strand. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX             From the final comments and entry In the report on sapient Earth peoples, cultures, levels of technology, and future philosophical development by Investigator Ma'el on the concluding Day 131,278 ...             I have already forwarded my strong recommendation to the Synod that Earth and its people not be approached or exploited in any fashion by the Taelons until they have achieved their full intellectual and philosophical maturity, and my reasons for advocating that they then be given the status of our first non-Taelon Companions were given in detail. But my recommendations are being and will be ignored. I know this because I have given the timesight to the human species and one of them, the being Sinead, who sees far into the future with remarkable detail and clarity, has seen the presence of the Taelons on Earth nearly two millennia hence, as well as some evidence of smaller, clandestine visits in the interim.             "For this reason I intend to conceal the full report lest it reveals present weaknesses which would enable you to take advantage of these people. Two copies will be hidden elsewhere awaiting the arrival on the future scene of a Taelon or a local Protector with, I trust, more philosophical insight and social responsibility than the Synod is currently displaying.             "It remains only for me to bid farewell to my short-lived Earth friends and protectors without revealing too much of what their race's future is to be.             'The report of Ma'el the Investigator is concluded." -             It was a small but strongly built crypt with walls and arching roof of well-fitted stone that would survive, Sinead said, until its discovery two millennia hence by the future protectors Marquette and Boone. By then it would be covered by a drinking house in a small town called, by the people of the time, Strandhill. Its exact location would be given, in the Taelon language, by a message inscribed on a mosaic close to but not in the tomb of Declan ...             "I hate talking about your tomb like this," she said, looking from Ma'el to Declan with tears close to her eyes. "You should not be walking on the hillside and climbing about in this hole in the ground. Your legs aren't what they were and, I don't want even to think about you dying."             "It will happen sometime," Declan said, smiling. He rested his hand briefly on her head which, in spite of her advancing years, was still thickly covered by long hair that remained the color of a starless night. He felt the aching in his chest, the constant thumping of the veins in his head, and the even more intense pain of the inevitable separation from her, and silently he added, "It will be sometime soon."             When she remained silent he went on softly, "It seems wrong to me that my memories, our memories, and the thoughts and dangers, and most of all the love of the past and present that we share, should die with us. That would be wasteful on somebody's part. Do you remember that Algonquin medicine man telling us about the body of his newly dead chief? He said that the body was but an empty tent whose former occupant had gone somewhere to do something else." He laughed gently. "I would not like to spend all my time in his happy hunting grounds chasing buffalo, but wherever I do go, I would like you to follow me there."             "I will," she said. For a moment she blinked her eyes rapidly, then she laughed and said, "Declan, you're beginning to sound like a follower of the Christus. Master, where do the Taelons go when they die?"             Ma'el inclined his head in the way that meant he was not going to answer the question, but this time he surprised them.             "My race is long-lived," he replied, "and, except in rare and usually calamitous circumstances, our lives end only when we consider that they have been lived to their full intellectual and emotional capacity and we choose to end them. We have, therefore, no great desire to live another even longer and possibly eternal life. For us this remains a subject for philosophical debate and speculation but we have, however, no direct proof that an afterlife does not exist. The Kimera are said to have gone somewhere, but... perhaps I will be surprised."             "But if you don't have to die, Ma'el," said Sinead, "please stay with us. We don't want to lose you, not yet."             "And I do not want to part from you," said Ma'el, looking into the heavy casket with its stone lid that awaited him, "who are my protectors, trusted assistants, and only true friends. But it is better that we part now for two reasons. By the Taelon measure of longevity, you have not long to go, and you should live the remainder of your lives knowing that you will be free of my interference and, more importantly, that the two of you may have accomplished more for the ultimate survival of both our species than any other human beings in your past and future history. There remains only the one service that you can do for me."             "You know," said Sinead quietly, "that it will be done."             "I know," said Ma'el, "but in the time left to you I must know that you fully understand my instructions and that they will be carried out."             Sinead nodded calmly. She had not taken offense at Ma'el's words because she knew that he was deeply troubled and no criticism had been intended.             "It is plain from your timesightings," Ma'el went on, "that the Synod has and will ignore my recommendations, as they would my report if 1 were to transmit it. Instead there is one copy of it left in the spacecraft hidden under your castle and another concealed in a location unknown to you. Sometime in the far future they will be discovered by someone who will study my report and, I hope, fully understand its implications."             Ma'el paused for a moment, stepping into the casket and sitting rather than lying down in it before he continued, "They must understand the significance of the mosaic, and of the faces and symbols surrounding mine. This planet's sapient species is a particularly savage and cruel one, although not by the standards of some of those found among the stars. There are wars fought, viciously and utterly without mercy, in which thousands lose their lives for ridiculous or trivial reasons. There are totally unnecessary and incredibly painful human sacrifices, and torturing and bloody violence performed for a few moments of gratification such as those perpetrated by many of the Caesars, although they were not the only offenders by far. Countless lives of members of an already short-lived species are being shortened further, all too often without mercy, without reason or even without thought. To a civilized entity this planet is horrendous, a cultural nightmare which is, regrettably, only one world among many. But it is not entirely bad, and that is what gives me hope.             "For even amid the worst of the carnage and suffering," he went on, "there is increasingly being displayed a high order of bravery, of self-sacrifice and of compassion allied to an indomitable will to survive and surmount the worst that man or nature can throw against you. The behavior of the Followers of the Christus in the Roman arena is only one example. There is a small but growing awareness that showing mercy is not a weakness but a philosophical strength, and that might is not necessarily right.             "I have observed this in you, Declan," he continued, "and seen its increasing presence in others. The cause stems from the influences of the small but growing number of thinkers and philosophers and lawgivers who have arisen among you, but mostly it is due to the prophets and teachers who are awakening in you the racial conscience of what is truly right by spreading the words of your various gods who, for the most part, teach love and respect rather than blind hatred of a neighbor regardless of their strength, weakness, opposing beliefs, or skin pigmentation ..."             Without interrupting his measured flow of words, Ma'el slowly lay back and folded his hands across his chest. The high sides of the casket gave his voice an added resonance as he went on, "If this trend continues, and if you are given enough time to benefit from it, your people will reach a degree of philosophical maturity and civilization unparalleled among the cultures of the explored galaxy, and will remain strong with these qualities intact so that we will be able to withstand any threat from the Jarridians or anyone else. That is the reason for the background subjects of the mosaic. They are there for those who will later have the ability to see and understand the implicit philosophical message that the people of Earth and the Taelon should be joined as equals.             "Together we would be unbeatable. But if we fight each other, all hope for the survival of this world and the countless others that fill the night sky will be lost. Farewell, my friends, and please go now."             "But, but we can still talk," Sinead protested, tears coming to her eyes. "About the old times, the things we did together and, we've time to say a proper good-bye. You aren't dead yet."             "No," Ma'el replied gently, "nor do I intend to die for some time." He tapped the back of one hand with the fingers of the other. "You have seen what lies under this shell, the seemingly insubstantial patterns and structures of force that are my true body. Know, then, that all the physical work that you can do for me is completed. In the fullness of time and if our plans reach fruition, you will have the thanks of the entire Taelon species, and you already have mine. But from now onward I must work without this physical body covering, and alone.             "Please, close me in."             As the heavy cover was sliding into place, Ma'el looked up at them with his large, soft eyes and lifted one hand in a gesture that was more like a benediction than a farewell. -             After the death of King Declan the years passed quickly for Sinead. She grew old and feeble and even her long, night black hair was showing the gray streaks of dawn although her mind, she told herself, remained young. Deliberately she took little part in the affairs of the kingdom, because her son the king and his queen loved her but were sure that she was too old and frail to be burdened with the affairs of state. So she pleased herself greatly by playing with her grandchildren until they, too, became young men and women with children of their own, and she was left with the time-sightings and her memories that were so clear in sight and sound and touch that she was almost reliving them.             Some of the timesightings were so strange that she could not understand what she was seeing and others, especially those concerning the almost magical devices and abilities of the healers of that future time, made her gasp with excitement and wonder. Some were so terrifying that she was glad they were of a distant time and could not affect her as a person. Others were happy because in them she saw another and younger Declan, although that was not his name, who was a Protector of a Taelon Companion called Da'an. She felt pride in his daring adventures and almost jealous because he loved a comely young woman of the future who was not herself.             She remembered the first meeting with her Declan, and her early hatred of him that had slowly changed to a depth of love so great that she could still not fully understand how it had happened, and the incredible gentleness of that great, strong body when it enfolded her and the passion of their lovemaking. Inevitably that led to the more recent memory of the time when she had held his dying body in her arms and he had smiled at her for the last time.             Then there were the memories of his entombment, of him being laid to rest among the other great warrior kings and queens of history, in the time and tradition-hallowed place where he had never expected to lie. But he did not lie there.             Instead he sat on a stone chair in a burial passage parallel with the one where a thin wall of clay concealed the mosaic of Ma'el. It depicted Ma'el surrounded by representations of some of the Earth gods, prophets, philosophers, and lawgiversâ??Buddha, Confucius, the great Amun-Ra of the Egyptians, and Quetzalcoatl, the Aztec god of death, resurrection and civilization, and the Christusâ??all of whom in greater or lesser degree had influenced Ma'el's investigation and who would, he had hoped, likewise influence the thinking of the Taelons so that they would realize that the people of Earth were not merely a resource for exploitation but worthy of becoming their first other world Companions. The mosaic gave directions in Taelon script for finding Ma'el's tomb when the time came for its discovery close on two millennia in the future.             Declan was dressed in royal robes, a simple crown rested on his head, and at an unusual and awkward angle across his lap he held a sword whose blade pointed in the direction of his castle and the location of Ma'el's buried space vehicle. On its hilt there was an inscription in Taelon that proclaimed to those who would later come to see, and to understand what they were seeing, that here was not only a great king but the First Protector of the Taelons on Earth.             But she was becoming selfish in her old age, Sinead thought, and her druidic beliefs were being influenced by other teachings. Her work here was done and her time-sights into the far future, although confusing, suggested that ultimately all would be well on Earth and among the stars. All that there was left for her to do was to wait until she could be with her beloved Declan again.             And, if a place could be found for a Taelon in the human hereafter, the gentle Ma'el. The End ABOUT THE AUTHOR JAMES WHITE was the author of the Sector General novels and lived in Portstewart, Ireland. * * * * * * Book information Taelon "Magic" From within his cloak Ma'el produced a square material, no more than the size of the palm of his hand. He placed it on the ground and tapped it sharply with his index finger. It opened up into four squares joined at their edges, then continued to unfold until it was an arm's length in width and depth. In a moment it lay flat and stiff on the ground as a picture without any marks of folding or wrinkling on it. "I've never seen you do that spell before!" Sean burst out. "It is a map of Hibernia with the Isle of Man and the coasts of Scotia, Cymri, and Gaul. But the penmanship of the artist is careless and the names of the cities have not been inked in. Their positions are represented only by small, gray smudges. A careless mapmaker did this." Ma'el raised an admonishing finger. "You might consider instead that it is but a painting in dull colors of a scene which the artist imagines is being viewed from a great height." GENE RODDENBERRY'S EARTH FINAL CONFLICT The Arrival by Fred Saberhagen The First Protector by James White Requiem for Boone by Debra Doyle and James D. Macdonald GENE RODDENBERRY'S EARTH FINAL CONFLICT THE FIRST PROTECTOR     JAMES WHITE                 TOR® A TOM DOHERTY ASSOCIATES BOOK NEW YORK Note: If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book." This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. GENE RODDENBERRY'S EARTH: FINAL CONFLICTâ??THE FIRST PROTECTOR Copyright © 2000 Norway Corporation All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. "GENE RODDENBERRY'S EARTH: FINAL CONFLICT" and all associated names, likenesses, and designs are trademarks of the Norway Corporation. All rights reserved. "ALLIANCE ATLANTIS" with the stylized "A" design is a registered trademark of Alliance Atlantis Communications, Inc. All rights reserved. "TRIBUNE ENTERTAINMENT" is a registered trademark of Tribune Entertainment Company. All rights reserved. Edited by James Frenkel A Tor Book Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC 175 Fifth Avenue New York, NY 10010 www.tor.com Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC. ISBN: 0-812-57024-3 First edition: February 2000 First mass market edition: February 2001 Printed in the United States of America 0987654321 Table of Contents The First Protector CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CHAPTER NINETEEN CHAPTER TWENTY CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE CHAPTER THIRTY CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX Book information Earth- Final Conflict 02 - The First Protector - James White (v1.0) (html)/toc.ncx The First Protector The First Protector CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CHAPTER NINETEEN CHAPTER TWENTY CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE CHAPTER THIRTY CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX Book information