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GALAXY. THEY HAD THE POWER TO MAKE ANYONE WANT TO OBEY THEM. THIS IS NOT JUST
LEGEND BUT FACT. I HAVE FELT IT. IT COMES FROM DEEP INSIDE, AS IF THE MIND
WERE SUD-DENLY CLEARER, MORE INTELLIGENT THAN EVER. IN A FLASH, ONE IS
CONVINCED OF THE RIGHTNESS OF THE PERSUADER'S ORDERS.
IT IS SAID THAT TO ACQUIRE THEIR POWERS, THEY HAD TO DIE. STORIES ARE TOLD OF
THEIR ENTRY RITE, WHICH CAN BE VERIFIED IF YOU BUT GO TO THE CAPITAL CITY.
THERE, AT THE EMPEROR'S OWN CROWN, THE MAZE OF THE PERSUADERS BEGINS. THE
CRIES OF DANGEROUS ANIMALS FROM EVERY KNOWN PLANET HAUNT THE AIR. THE RUSH OF
GREAT MOVING WATERS MINGLES WITH THE SOUND OF SHARP BLADES SLICING THE AIR.
THOSE WHO LIVE NEAR WILL TELL STORIES OF PEOPLE GOING IN BUT NEVER COMING OUT.
YET I THINK THEY COME OUT.
I KEPT VIGIL AT THE MOUTH OF THE MAZE AND COUNTED THOSE GOING IN. FOR EVERY
LIVING PERSON WHO WENT IN BUT DEO NOT COME OUT, THERE DIDEMERGE A THING----A
PILE OF SAND, A MASS OF STONE,A SLAGGED PUDDLE.
I ALSO SAW SUCCESSFUL CANDIDATES EMERGE. SUCH A ONE WAS OSSMINID, WHO LATER
BROKE HIS VOWS TO ...
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Here the fragment ended. Dennis sighed. "It's probably just a piece out of a
cheap fantasy novel, but, Arshel, if I could have lived in that time, I'd have
risked anything to become a Persuader!"
"I think," Arshel answered with trepidation, "Skanqwin felt about becoming a
Communicator the same way I feel about becoming an archeologist. They'd never
accept my scholarship because Isee, and I trust what I see more than what I
think. But you're going to be an archeologist, and if I were your bhirhir, I
could be your archeovisualizer."
With the words spoken, she could only hold her breath, cringing before the
expected rejection. But as he shoved the viewer aside and turned around to
look at her, his face underwent one of those peculiar melting transitions she
never could quite believe.
"You don't have to make yourself into an archeovisual-izer to gain my
acceptance. I told you last winter that if nobody else came along, I'd gladly
take you bhirhir. I meant that."
It had been settled that simply. But she'd had no idea what she was getting
into. /had no choice; I really didn't.
The courtyard was deserted when they let her out. Den-nis was sitting on a
bench in the last slice of sunlight. "Shell"
Tasting venom, she went to him. "You're safe." 7never gave that a thought the
whole time I was in there.
Impatiently, he asked, and she told him what had hap-pened. He fell into a
deep silence that lasted until they got back to their apartment. But as soon
as the door was closed, he burst out, "They'll make you go balbhirhir,
any-way!"
Arshel thought that if he were kren, he'd be raising venom. She'd doubted the
old priest's story, but now, watching her bhirhir pace in barely controlled
fear of losing her, she could see how his feelings might stem from having been
kren in a previous life. What else could explain such panic in a human?
"Dennis, even the Mautri can'tmake a person go bal-bhirhir."
He flung himself into one of the kitchen chairs, facing ' her across the
table, his eyes strangely alive now. "Do you really think you can learn all
their tricks and not be se-duced into their ways?"
"They think I can. They said I don't have to take vows."
"I never dareddream we could get you into the Inner School. But Shel, this
may be our big break, and it sure is about time! If they're willing to give it
away, we can't turn it down!"
But he was uneasy with the decision. Over the next few weeks, his fear of
losing her to the Mautri practices erupted into short, bitter quarrels. She
struggled to be patient, waiting for the lack of change in their relationship
to allay his anxiety so that he'd become again the person she'd known on
Vrashin.
Her first day at the temple, she was given a red priest's robe in
winter-weight material to wear over her street clothes, and she was assigned a
learning room snug in the heart of the building complex, the warmest room they
had. But it was chilly, and she dreaded the onset of winter.
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Her instructor came in, dressed in the light summer robe everyone else wore.
His was pale blue, signifying that he was an advanced student, almost
balbhirhir.
"I am called Khelin."
Heat was coming through the floor ducts now. The room had only a desk, two
chairs, a floor mat, and a bookrack holding an array of tattered old volumes
next to a comnet
access screen. The small fountain in the corner of the room tinkled.
She drew her robe tight and shuddered with chill as she said politely,
"Venerable Khelin."
"I'm not that old!" he said, amused. "But one of the things I'm here to teach
you is how to adjust to the moun-tain cold."
"That would be a very practical teaching." Over the course of the first
weeks, she did learn ways to control her circulation and the amount of heat
her body produced. But she was never comfortable. Khelin set her tasks and
then disappeared for half a day or more. At first, she told Dennis about each
event of her day as they met in the evenings. But when he had time to listen,
Dennis would only reply, "What good is that?" or "When did you say they'd let
you start learning visualization?" She put that question to Khelin.
"Arshel, you can't begin on visualization until you're ready to make your
beads, and you can't do that until you've learned basic control. It will do
you little good to learn visualization if it only makes you sick."
She swallowed her impatience and learned to report less detail to Dennis. The [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
