“No man’s promise can be trusted absolutely,” Silk said slowly, “since no man is, or can ever be, entirely free from evil. I include myself in that, certainly.”
Maytera Marble pushed her handkerchief back into her sleeve. “I think Auk’s promise, freely given, can be relied on as much as anybody’s, Patera. As much as yours, and I don’t intend to be insulting. That was the way he was as a boy, and it’s the way he is as a man, too, as well as I can judge. He never had a mother or a father, not really. He—but I’d better not go on, or I’ll let slip things that Maytera’s made me promise not to repeat, and then I’ll feel terrible, and I’ll have to tell both of them that I broke my word.”
“Do you really believe that I may be able to help this man, Maytera? I’m surely no older than he is, and probably younger. He’s not going to respect me the way he respected Patera Pike, remember.”
Rain dripping from the sparkling leaves dotted Maytera Marble’s skirt; she brushed at the spots absently. “That may be true, Patera, but you’ll understand him better than Patera Pike could, I think. You’re young, and as strong as he is, or almost. And he’ll respect you as an augur. You needn’t be afraid of him. Have I ever asked a favor of you, Patera? A real favor?”
“You asked me to intercede with Maytera Rose once, and I tried. I think I probably did more harm than good, so we won’t count that. But you could ask a hundred favors if you wanted to, Maytera. You’ve earned that many and more.”
“Then talk with Auk, Patera, some Scylsday. Shrive him if he asks you to.”
“That isn’t a favor,” Silk said. “I’d do that much for anyone; but of course you want me to make a special effort for this Auk, to speak to him and take him aside, and so on; and I will.”
“Thank you, Patera. Patera, you’ve known me for over a year now. Am I lacking in faith?”
The question caught Silk by surprise. “You, Maytera? Why—why I’ve never thought so. You’ve always seemed, I mean to me at least—”
“Yet I haven’t had the faith in you, and the god who enlightened you, that I should’ve had. I just realized it. I’ve been trusting in merely human words and appearances, like any petty trader. You were saying that the god had promised Patera Pike help, I think. Could you tell me more about that? I was only listening with care before. This time I’ll listen with faith, or try to.”
“There’s more than I could ever tell.” Silk stroked his cheek. He had himself in check now. “Patera Pike was enlightened, as I said; and I was shown his enlightenment. He was told that all those prayers he had said over so many years were to be granted that day—that the help he had asked for, for himself and for this manteion and the whole quarter, would be sent to him at once.”
Silk discovered that his fists were clenched. He made himself relax. “I was shown all that; then I saw that help arrive, alight as if with Pas’s fire from the sun. And it was me. That was all it was, just me.”
“Then you cannot fail,” Maytera Marble told him softly.
Silk shook his head. “I wish it were that easy. I can fail, Maytera. I dare not.”
She looked grave, as she often did. “But you didn’t know this until today? At noon, in the ball court? That’s what you said.”
“No, I didn’t. He told me something else, you see—that the time has come to act.”
Maytera Marble sighed again. “I have some information for you, Patera. Discouraging information, I’m afraid. But first I want very much to ask you just one thing more, and tell you something, perhaps. It was the Outsider who spoke to you, you say?”
“Yes. I don’t know a great deal about him, however, even now. He’s one of the sixty-three gods mentioned in the Writings, but I haven’t had a chance to look him up since it happened, and as I remember there isn’t a great deal about him anyway. He told me about himself, things that aren’t in the Writings unless I’ve forgotten them; but I haven’t really had much time to think about them.”
“When we were outside like him, living in the Short Sun Whorl before this one was finished and peopled, we worshipped him. No doubt you knew that already, Patera.”
“I’d forgotten it,” Silk admitted, “but you’re right. It’s in the tenth book, or the twelfth.”
“We chems didn’t share in sacrifices in the Short Sun Whorl.” Maytera Marble fell silent for a moment, scanning old files. “It wasn’t called manteion, either. Something else. If only I could find that, I could remember more, I think.”
Without understanding what she meant, Silk nodded.
“There have been many changes since then, but it used to be taught that he was infinite. Not merely great, but truly without limit. There are expressions like that—I mean in arithmetic. Although we never get to them in my class.”
“He showed me.”
“They say that even the whorl ends someplace,” Maytera Marble continued, “immense though it is. He doesn’t. If you were to divide him among all the things in it, each part of him would still be limitless. Didn’t you feel awfully small, Patera, when he was showing you all these things?”
Silk considered his answer. “No, I don’t think I did. No, I didn’t. I felt—well, great. I felt that way even though he was immeasurably greater, as you say. Imagine, Maytera, that His Cognizance the Prolocutor were to speak to me in person, assigning me some special duty. I’d feel, of course, that he was a far greater man than I, and a far, far greater man than I could ever be; but I’d feel that I too had become a person of significance.” Silk paused, ruminating. “Now suppose a Prolocutor incalculably great.”
“I understand. That answers several questions that I’ve had for a long while. Thank you, Patera. My news—I want to tell you why I asked you to meet me.”
“It’s bad news, I assume.” Silk drew a deep breath. “Knowing that the manteion’s at risk, I’ve been expecting some.”
“It would appear to indicate—mistakenly, I feel sure, Patera—that you’ve failed already. You see, a big, red- faced man came to the palaestra while you were away. He said that he’d just bought it, bought the entire property from the city.” Maytera Marble’s voice fell. “From the Ayuntamiento, Patera. That’s what he told me. He was here
