came back to Paul. 'You said a man went into the temple ...'
'Cleve Quinton. He tried to kill High Elder Brill. You'll find out about him.'
'Brill is head of the Holy Order?' Ogram nodded. 'He's also High Elder of Clarion and First Speaker of the Tal Tahir.'
A chime sounded on the console. Ogram leaned forward to study the readout screen. He thought for a moment, then tentatively flicked a switch on the panel. Lights winked green across the bottom of the screen. Ogram grunted with satisfaction and twisted the drive wheel to turn the streamer in a wide arc to face the sun. The fore screen dimmed as a filter snapped into place. The green lights on the map formed vertical lines.
'Lord Tern is High Elder Brill's personal god,' Ogram went on. 'He gives the orders and Brill carries them out. Before he died, Cleve said he saw Lord Tern. Of course, he was babbling by then. Whatever he saw in the temple was too much for him. He went crazy.'
Some of it was beginning to fit together. 'You think Dorland can help determine what Quinton really saw in the temple?'
Ogram frowned slightly as if he just realized he'd stepped past a line of discretion. 'I'll let Sabastian tell you about that.'
Paul looked up at the screen as they flew out over a scruffy shoreline. Ogram eased the wheel forward. The pitch of the stasis engine changed slightly and the craft picked up speed, then veered slightly in another course correction. The pulsing light moved noticeably closer to the center of the grid. Ogram reached to the console and flipped a switch. The grid screen went dark.
'I can find my way from here,' he said. 58 William Greenleaf
The shoreline gave way to white beach. Paul tried to imagine a line of resort hotels, and failed. 'How many people live in Fairhope?'
Ogram considered. 'Five or six thousand, probably. Far as I know, nobody's bothered to count.'
'That's all?' After two hundred years, Paul had expected a population of several hundred thousand. Colonies had a tendency to grow quickly.
'The Holy Order controls the birth rate,' Ogram said. 'High Elder Brill wants to keep the population where it is.'
'Sounds like he'sgot his thumb into everything.'
'He owns the planet,' Ogram said flatly. 'At least, that's how he sees it.'
'How do the rest of the people see it?' Ogram shrugged. 'Mostly, they go along. Too afraid to do anything else. Except Sabastian and me and a few others.'
'And Dorland's parents?'
Ogram looked at him. 'He told you about that?'
'He said they were executed as heretics.' Ogram nodded and turned back to the console.
'If you oppose High Elder Brill and Lord Tern, that's the risk you run.'
'Meaning Dorland will be risking it as well.' Ogram grinned crookedly. 'You, too, my friend. But remember—you insisted on coming.'
Another silence intervened. The craft swept up over a mountain peak that was covered with a blanket of snow, then down over wooded, brushcovered foothills. Paul glanced into the passenger compartment. Dorland still sat silently, eyes closed.
'There it is,' Ogram said, pointing. 'Chalcharuzzi. The Holy City.' A wide valley lay between the rugged range of mountains below them and a lower range fifty kilometers away. A river snaked through one corner, and even from here Paul could see the white
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froth of rapids. Much of the valley was overgrown with vegetation, although Paul could see scattered patches of pale pink showing through. Natural outcroppings of stone, he thought at first. Then he looked closer and realized they were structures, but he couldn't discern their size or shape.
