Jory repeated, “I’m saying the Arbai Device could eliminate the Brannigan network if allowed to get at it.”
“And the Arbai won’t let it?” Danivon asked incredulously.
“They won’t let it. They have programmed it to grow only where they wish it to grow. The limit has always been at the wall.”
“Why won’t they let it go farther?”
Jory raised her eyebrows at him, miming astonishment. “That question yet again? You sound like Curvis, Danivon. Here you are, both Enforcers. You’ve both seen fit to lecture us on noninterference all the way up the Fohm, yet both of you get swollen about the neck when I tell you the Arbai hold the same point of view.”
Danivon closed his eyes, trying to understand. “They won’t use it beyond the wall even to save the lives of all those on Elsewhere.”
“Correct,” said Asner.
“Millions of people are going to die.”
“Likely,” said Asner again. “Or already have.”
Danivon said desperately, “I’ll ask the Arbai to change their minds. Just because our forefathers chose doesn’t mean we have! We aren’t choosing now! We don’t choose to die like this now! The Derbeckians didn’t choose for Chimi-ahm to be real!”
“The only difference between Chimi-ahm real and Chimi-ahm illusory is that the real is able to do in person what the priests and hounds used to do in his name,” said Jory.
“All right! But Derbeck’s only one province!” he cried. “Surely, under the present situation …”
Jory laughed harshly. “Situation? What situation? When man first came here, the Arbai examined his history in an attempt to understand him. They found holocaust after holocaust, armageddon after armageddon, each of them as dreadful as this situation. Man has always tortured in the name of his gods and committed atrocities in the name of his culture.”
She threw up her hands, her hair making a white mane about her wrathful face.
“I knew that as well as the Arbai did, but still, when I became aware there was another force at work, I asked the Arbai to reconsider. The Arbai then asked me: ‘Was there any difference between what the new forces were doing to man and what man had always done to himself?’”
“Jory …” said Asner, troubled, putting out a hand.
“Let me rave, Asner. Their question took me back in time. Back to the planet on which I was born. Back to the planet from which Great Dragon and I came. Back to the places we have seen in the centuries between. Everywhere, men have perpetuated myths of honor and death, everywhere men have worshiped gods who have destroyed them. So, the Arbai asked, ‘Why should man be saved from customs and gods he himself had created?’”
She leaned to speak into Danivon’s face. “If they ask you that same question, what answer will you give them?”
“I might say something about mercy,” he cried. “Something about pity!”
“You’re a fine one to talk, Enforcer! But, as a matter of fact, that’s what I did say. In my womanly way, I talked a good deal about mercy. And I was told mercy was an end, but the means to achieve that end was interference, and that ends do not justify means. Which, surprisingly enough, is precisely the male promulgated doctrine I was weaned on as a child!”
She came to herself, dwindled before their eyes to stand fragile and trembling before them. “Sorry,” she said, tottering. “I sometimes forget I am no longer a prophetess.”
“You will always be a prophetess,” said Asner tenderly, putting his arms around her. “Until you are no more. And by that time, there will be no need for a prophetess.”
“Certainly not here,” she said wearily. “For everyone will be dead, all talk of mercy notwithstanding.”
Curvis growled at her in a bitter voice, “Not quite all if what you say is true. The people out there, yes. But not your people behind the wall.”
“All,” Jory mumbled tiredly. “All! I’m grieving for all of them, stupid boy. For Fringe and you and Latibor and Cafferty. For my people as well as the others. The Arbai may have no concept of evil but they have a horror of pain, so they’re going.” Jory turned and laid her forehead on Asner’s shoulder, clinging to him. The air behind her moved in a convoluted way. Shadows chased one another across scales and fangs and great, smoldering eyes.
“Going?” asked Fringe wonderingly.
It was Asner who replied. “They’re retreating under the massif. They’ve got some kind of redoubt down there, built long ago in case of need. They’re pulling in the Arbai Device behind them, and in case you’re wondering, no, our people are not invited to join them.”
“We’re too discomforting for the Arbai,” murmured Jory. “All these human thoughts and desires getting into the device make it painful for them. Like rocks in their shoes, hurting every step they take. They can’t handle ambiguity. And once the device is gone, there’ll be nothing to stop the Brannigans.”
“How can your Arbai friends let you die?” Bertran asked the old woman.
“You didn’t make that choice,” cried Nela. “You came from outside! Surely they’d save you!”
“Ahh …” said Jory.
“Ahh …” Asner echoed.
Nela cried, “If they won’t even save you, then none of us can escape. They’ll still kill us, just as they were going to do! We’ve no place to go.”
“Even if there were a place, I wouldn’t leave my comrades to fight alone,” said Fringe, as though surprised at the thought. “And it is better that the Hobbs Land Gods are going. If we are to die, we should die freely, as we have lived.”
Jory looked at Fringe and shook her head in irritation.
“There now,” whispered Asner. “She won’t stay this way.”
“She would die happier this way,” said Jory.
“Do you want that kind of contentment for her?”
“Oh, Asner. Of course not.”
“When are the Arbai going?” Danivon demanded.
“They’ve already gone,” Jory replied. “They left immediately after you arrived because they did not wish to explain yet again. They’re finding explanation increasingly painful as more and more humans come behind the wall,
