The Best of Lester del Rey

his solution. Earth would never hear of her, and… and it had been ten years since he’d held a girl in his arms!

He started toward her. Her face paled, then firmed again, and something seemed to explode in his head. He staggered, missed his footing, and fell.

“No,” she repeated. “Not now. Not yet. I have to think.”

This time he waited, knowing he could do nothing to force a creature with the powers of a goddess. The pressures hi huii rose and fought for expression, but he could only lie and wait. And in the end, it was she who came to him, slowly pulling the halter off as she moved toward him. He lay immobile until she was almost touching him before he groped for her. She pulled closer, straining against him with heaving breasts.

“Show me hi your mind again. Show me everything,” she whispered. “I have to be sure.”

His hands had found the slit hi her skirt by then and the buckle, but he tried to follow her wishes with his unclear, churning thoughts. And suddenly she was completely against him, with nothing between, panting in his ear. “I’m sure. Eli, I’m sure!”

Ten years was a long time.

The last Eli saw of Meia, she was sleeping in complete exhaustion, but with a touch of a smile on her lips. She muttered something in a weak voice, and he kissed her lightly, trying to keep his mind from thinking too loud.

It was dark before he reached his house. He located his riding beast, saddled it, and started toward the building to collect his manuscript. Then he saw Kleon reading it, and gave up. He was in no condition to face the questions of the old man. He led the animal out onto the trail, mounted quickly, and headed for Kalva, hoping only that he had enough money on him for the trip.

It was a long rMe, and there was time for more than enough thought. Sometimes he gloated to himself over the end of herf power, as ft his victory proved that she had never been more than he was. Sometimes shame came over him, either at the breaking of the taboo against aliens or at what he had done to her. And always there were other feelings that he cursed and ranted against, but which lasted longer than the others.

At the end of a year, when his transfer was okayed, he spent all his money to send her a box of luxuries, using the village as her address. When his transfer ship was delayed, he began to fear she might trace him back, but he saw no more of her.

Instead, it was the aged Kleon who came, and by then it didn’t matter. Eli was inside the passenger fence, getting final clearance, and no natives were permitted. Kleon tried to pass and was turned back. Then, as he saw Eli, one thick arm swept forward, tossing something over the fence.

It was the thin, worn little mission book Meia had been reading. He stood holding it, trying to guess what it meant, as Kleon left. Shaking proved there was no note between the pages, and nothing was written inside the covers. It was a mystery to him. Yet he was homesick as the rocket roared upward, lifting him from Sayon.

Judson woke early, bothered by the light streaming from the windows on two sides of his apartment. He groaned, still aching, and fumbled about until he found his glasses. A slave must have come in during the night to undress him, and one entered now, bringing his freshened clothes and a welcome cup of coffee.

One wall of windows faced north toward the hill, he saw. The other opened on a rear garden. He threw one of the windows open, letting in fresh air and a babble of childish voices. There were three little boys, from six to eleven, playing outside. From their looks, they were obviously Dupont’s. The man had been a fool to have them, but Judson couldn’t really blame him as he watched them, envy thick in him.

He shut the window again, just as Dupont himself came in. The man looked sick and scared. “The Fas Kaia arrested Athon!” he screamed, wasting no time on civilities. “She’s holding trial on him for profaning the temple. After I ordered her to leave him alone. Come on, we’ve got to stop it!”

The rule book was torn up, and Dupont’s carefully built shelter was gone. It was a shock to Judson too, but no cause for panic. He should have expected some such high-handed action from the priestess.

“I countermanded your order,” he said. He realized he was committing himself—probably accepting Kaia’s bribe—but there was no use trying to undo what she had done. The less damage the better. “If you’re worried, Dupont, maybe you’d better get your sister and your boys to the ship.”

The sickness in the man abruptly washed out all the fear. Incest was still enough to ruin him completely. But he nodded at last. He shook himself, pulling at some strength inside him to put on a normal appearance, then headed for the garden.

Judson hurried out to the street. There was no chariot waiting, of course; Fas Kaia obviously meant to have a fait accompli when he heard of it. He set out on foot, noticing that there were mobs clustered about the temple, and others streaming toward it. But they were still leaderless and unsure of what had happened. They made way for his uniform without thinking.

Inside the temple, a reluctant priestess led him to a great gold and silver door and swung it open for him. He could see Kaia at the far end of the huge room, addressing a prisoner in the hands of two Ludh. How the temple rated Ludh guards would have to be explained later.

She looked up and motioned him to her, standing up as he drew near. “I couldn’t get a chariot and message to you through the hostile crowd,” she lied easily in a low voice. “So I went ahead, hoping you’d hear. Here, I’ve already judged him an impostor of Earth stock, and handed him over to the temple as a spy in temple uniform—his robe really is an old temple one. I found rules about jurisdiction over spies in an old covenant of Earth and used them?”

“So you didn’t need me, after all?” he asked bitterly. He could admire her solution; with the detail of the temple uniform, it might even be legal. But her tactics rankled.

She shook her head, smiling faintly. “I’m glad you’re here, Eli. I’d rather not forge the papers. Here, take the seat of judgment and finish. You can certify to his being human, too.”

He found himself seated in the great chair, with the papers in front of him. They were in good order and in English. Kaia was thorough. But if he had even a shred of doubt about the man, after her arrogant assumption she could control him, he’d let her go whistle…

Abruptly, he saw the prisoner, and the anticlimax took all the stubbornness out of him. The man was unimpressive and plain, with mild blue eyes and carroty-red hair that could only come from Earth. There was even a hint of freckles across the nose.

Reluctantly, Judson signed. There was no doubt left, and nothing else to do. One man couldn’t count against whole worlds, any more than Meia had counted against Earth. But his hand shook as he put the pen back.

“Hear the judgment,” Kaia called immediately. “For sacrilege within the temple, let the self-termed O6 Athon die on the pointed seat this day. Take him away!”

Judson rose to protest. The man was practically a political prisoner. He’d only come for ritualistic laving, not to harm the temple literally. But it was too late for protests. Anyhow, the prisoner was speaking.

It was a rich, ringing voice that seemed to fill the whole room. “The world has judged and the world is judged,” Athon pronounced slowly. His eyes lingered on them and his hand came up in a strange gesture. Then he shrugged and let the guards move him away.

Judson felt his eyes smarting, and his vision seemed to blur. He reached for his glasses automatically and began cleaning them. Then shock hit him as he glanced at the papers before him. Without the glasses, the smallest

text was clearly visible. There had been a final miracle, even inside the temple.

Kaia was in front of him as he stumbled to his feet, and there was a package in her hands. “Sometimes the Goddess is quick to reward,” she chuckled. “Naturally, to refuse Her gift is to profane Her name. The temple thanks you, too, Eli.”

He took the package and thrust it into his pocket, knowing it bound him to her, and not caring at the moment. “You are kind, Fas Kaia,” he said formally. Then he headed for the exit and toward the street.

But now the crowd was thicker, pressing inward. As he came to the steps, he found himself swallowed by it, almost carried by it. It had always been a faceless, abstract crowd to him before—one with no character or feeling. He hadn’t really realized that it could claw and tear and smother with its solidity. And he was too old to tear through it.

Then another shock registered. A few feet away, the face of Kleon appeared, with the old eyes staring straight toward him, before the movement of the mob drove them apart. The surprise seemed to clear his mind, though. He lifted his voice to a shout. “They are taking him to the hill for the Seat. Kaia has ordered the Seat for