'We'll have a big day tomorrow.'
He started to push himself to his feet, then changed his mind and sat back down on the hard metal floor. Maybe she could help him sort out some of the questions he had about the Tal Tahir.
'Selmer spoke of Lord Tern as the High Elder's personal god,' he said. 'I assumed Lord Tern was the only Tal Tahir god.'
She settled down beside him and slung her pouch at her feet. 'There's only one at a time, but each High Elder chooses his own god. Lord Tern was 130
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Brill's choice when he accepted the position of High Elder.'
'His . . . choice?'
She nodded. 'When a High Elder dies, his personal god dies with him—something about the Tal Tahir god and the human merging as one being in death. Then the other elders elect a new High Elder. They have a big ceremony in the temple, and that's when the new High Elder selects his god.' Something about that didn't fit basic logic. 'High Elder Brill chose Lord Tern, but Lord Tern is the one who knows all and sees all. Doesn't that strike you as self- contradictory?'
She shrugged. 'Debate it with High Elder Brill. I'm just telling you how it works.'
Paul remembered something Selmer had said
earlier. 'The rules you live under change each time you get a new High Elder and a new Tal Tahir god.'
'Yes, and never for the better. The Tal Tahir god sets the rules, and the High Elder brings them to the people—and that sets the tone for the way of life for everyone on Clarion.' She moved the pack and stretched out her legs. 'Based on what I've read, things weren't so bad for a hundred years or so after Captain Anson died. The Holy Order tried to offer the people some hope and security. But it's clear that over time the Holy Order changed. The High Elders became dictators, and the deacons turned into executioners and assassins. Alban Brill was elected ten years ago, and he chose Lord Tern to be the ruling Tal Tahir god. None of the others were as bad as those two.'
It was a grim concept: Alban Brill and the High Elders that had come before him piously carrying out the orders of alien gods while their people lived in fear and the ancient city slowly crumbled into dust around, them.
'Now it's your turn,' Karyn said. He looked up in surprise.
'Selmer told me about Dorland's show,' she said. 'Has he been a psi-player ever since he left Clarion?'
Paul shook his head. 'He was a storyteller out on the Fringe when I met him.'
'A storyteller?'
'There aren't many around anymore. A storyteller is like a player in a lot of ways, but he doesn't use lights and music. Instead, he simply tells a story.'
'People pay to hear someone tell a story?'
'Well . . . it's a little more complicated than that.' He settled into a more comfortable position and pulled his jacket around him. 'The storyteller starts out with a general idea—maybe a love story, or a story about somebody overcoming obstacles to win a personal victory. He creates a few characters and starts telling his story around them. Then he begins to blend in people from the audience.'
'He—' She stopped, thought about it. 'How does he blend them in?'
'I'll give you an example. If there's a man in the audience who's having money problems, the storyteller might give the same problem to one of the characters in his story. That may not be the main point of the story—usually isn't, in fact. But the problem will be part of the story, and the story will unfold and reach a conclusion in a way that helps the man in the audience see how to solve his own problem.'
'This would be someone the storyteller has never met before?'
'Most likely.'
