The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.
The struggle for balance and harmony governs all natural processes.
Balance and harmony are achieved only when the synergistic contribution of each element is equal to that of all other elements in the whole.
Rafe glanced at Orchid. She did not notice. Her attention was fixed on a tall, elegantly lean man dressed in a stylish white suit who was seated in another row. Preston Luce.
Rafe was relieved to see that Orchid's expression was thoughtful, not wistful.
At that moment Preston turned his head slightly and smiled at Orchid. She immediately switched her gaze, to the large, unframed canvas that hung behind the simple altar. The painting consisted of two lightning bolt slashes, one black, one white. Rafe recognized the picture as the work of Eldon Moss, a master of the Neo-Post Synergistic Abstract school. The minimalist approach of the painters of that school had made their work very popular with the meta-zen-syn crowd.
Rafe had been in Northville for only a few hours, but already he had seen a lot of art and architectural design that was clearly inspired by minimalism.
He had to admit that, in large doses, the austere style took on a bland, flat sensibility. He could understand why a young woman with a strong romantic streak might have had a little trouble fitting into the Northville milieu.
There was a small stir of anticipation in the crowd. Veronica and Terrence reappeared in their formal green attire and were introduced as husband and wife. The congregation rose to greet them with a solemn meta-zen-syn chant of welcome.
The new couple walked back down the aisle together. Row by row, the guests followed.
Rafe took Orchid's arm as she got to her feet 'Do we get to eat now?'
She gave him a fleeting grin. 'Yes, but don't say I didn't warn you. At a classic meta-zen-syn wedding even the food is supposed to symbolize the Three Principles.'
'I'm hungry enough to eat green hors d'oeuvres.'
The afternoon was warm and sunny. The reception was held in a serenely austere garden that overlooked the heavily wooded hills of Northville.
To Rafe's relief, the canapes were not all blue and yellow or even green. The small pastries, skewered tidbits, and assorted delicacies were, however, artfully arranged in classic meta-zen-syn patterns on the trays. Most were decorated with meta-zen-syn designs, but the symbolism did not affect the taste. The intellectual elite of Northville were a sophisticated lot. They relished gourmet food and wine.
Half an hour later Rafe stood in front of an abstract minimalist stone sculpture that consisted of a large circle and a triangle and looked out across the low rock wall that surrounded the garden.
From his vantage point he could see most of Northville and the campus of the Patricia Thorncroft North Institute for Synergistic Studies. The town and the prestigious think tank were inextricably linked together. Everyone who lived in Northville was affiliated with the institute in one way or another. The connection was underscored by the manner in which the architecture of the homes and shops in the village echoed the meta-zen-syn elegance and simplicity of the institute's buildings.
The effect of an entire town built along meta-zen-syn principles was either profoundly serene or downright dull. It depended, he supposed, on one's philosophical orientation. The fact that he found the vista a little dull made him wonder about his own personal outlook.
'Enjoying the scenery, Rafe?'
Rafe turned to see Orchid's father, Edward Adams, coming toward him. The two men had been introduced earlier, but there had been little opportunity to talk before the wedding.
Edward was much older than Rafe had expected. The professor was in excellent physical condition, but his hair was completely silver. There was a calm intelligence in his green eyes.
Rafe recalled Orchid telling him that she was the youngest of the Adams' three offspring, but he had not realized until he had met her much older brothers that she had been born several years after them. She must have come as a surprise in more ways than one, he refleeted. A rebellious romantic in a family of meta-zen-syn intellectuals.
'I've never seen a whole town designed by meta-zen-syn architects.' Rafe munched a small cracker topped with minced, spiced aspara-cado and cheese. 'It's interesting.'
Edward chuckled as he came to a halt 'That's the word my daughter uses when she's trying to be polite about a work of art she doesn't like.'
'Useful word.' Rafe glanced across the garden to where Orchid was chatting with Veronica and her new husband. 'I must remember to thank her for it.'
Edward continued to smile but his eyes held a father's watchful, probing expression. 'I understand that you and Orchid met through an agency?'
'Yes, sir.' Rafe smiled.
'A focus agency, I believe. You hired her for a routine assignment?'
So much for the fleeting hope that he might be able to pull off a small misunderstanding here the way he had at Alfred G.'s birthday party. 'It wasn't exactly routine.'
'Few things are where Orchid is concerned. She's always marched to a different horn-drum.'
'I figured that out right off.'
'Because you also march to a different beat?' Edward studied him with a shrewd gaze. 'Perhaps that is why you are drawn to each other.'
Rafe reminded himself that he was talking to a full professor of metaphysics with a specialty in synergistic theory. One had to be careful what one said around people like Edward Adams. They put things together in a hurry.
'Orchid and I have quite a lot in common,' Rafe said easily.
'Is that a fact?'
'Yes, sir, it is.'
'She tells me you're a strat-talent.'
Rafe braced himself. 'That's right.'
Edward spread one hand on the round form of the sculpture as if he found the texture of the stone fascinating. 'You and Orchid both have highly unusual para-profiles.'
'Yes, sir.'
'Because of those profiles, neither of you has been successfully matched yet by your respective matchmaking agencies.'
'Like I said, Orchid and I have a lot in common.'
Edward's eyes met his in a level man-to-man stare. 'I suspect that, being a strat-talent, you've concluded that you're quite capable of finding your own wife.'
Rafe contemplated the keen scrutiny in Edward's eyes and decided there was no point playing games with him.
'I don't have much choice. I think my marriage agency counselor has given up on me.'
Instead of the immediate condemnation that was the only appropriate response to such a shocking announcement, Edward merely nodded. 'I see. I was afraid of this.'
'Afraid of what, sir?'
'You're a romantic, too.'
Rafe nearly choked on the last bit of the canape. 'Like hell.'
Edward studied him for a long moment, but he did not respond. Instead, he turned to gaze out over the relentlessly tranquil view of Northville.
'I don't mind telling you that my wife and I have been somewhat concerned about Orchid's future,' he said at last. 'Ice-prisms are notoriously difficult to match properly.'
'Yes.'
'It's not as bad as it used to be,' Edward said. 'More research has been done on them in recent years. Orchid, herself, participated in one of the most significant studies.'
'The ParaSyn project.'
Edward frowned slightly. 'You know of it?'
