Teldin sighed again. Once more he realized he was listening to myths, which might or might not have any connection to the truth. Even though he knew it was hopeless, he asked, 'Do you know where the Wanderer is now?'
Well, that was predictable, wasn't it? Teldin thought with a wry grin. 'Does the Wanderer ever come here?'
That was the third time Message Bearer had mentioned the 'Mind of the World,' Teldin realized. Just what was it? A magical 'watchdog' left behind by the Juna, perhaps? The artifact or group of artifacts that controlled the magical forces that had attacked the
'Where is the Mind of the World?' he asked.
Teldin paused. Communication gap, he told himself. I'm surprised we've avoided it this long. 'Where is the Mind of the World?' he asked again. 'I wish to see it.'
He stroked his beard, thinking. 'What is the Mind of the World made of?' he asked, deciding to try a different tack.
The Cloakmaster stared at the dull-eyed trilateral with dawning comprehension. Is it saying… ? But, no, that's impossible, isn't it? 'Are you saying,' he said slowly, 'that everything alive on this planet is part of the Mind?'
It couldn't be much clearer than that, could it? Teldin asked himself. Everything around me, all part of some great, single consciousness? It sounded impossible…
But, then, hadn't traveling beyond the moons, away from Krynn-so unimaginably far away-sounded impossible not so very long ago? And it wasn't as if he'd never heard the concept discussed before. In The Philosophers' Rest on Star-fall, he recalled, that had been one of the theories that a handful of elven metaphysicians were arguing over in an alcoholic fog: the possibility that an entire world could somehow become alive, merge into one single, planetary intelligence. At the time he'd dismissed the idea as foolish, as meaningless as the old argument over how many spirits could dance on the point of a sword. Now, however,…
He looked around him again, this time trying to reach out with the extended awareness that the cloak somehow gave him. For an instant, he thought he detected a pervasive sense of awareness, coupled with an echo of the strange feeling of belonging he'd experienced while walking through the forest. Then it was gone without a trace, so suddenly that he couldn't be sure whether he'd really felt it, or whether his mind was playing tricks on him. Search for something hard enough, and you'll find it, he reminded himself, whether it's there or not.
He looked back at the trilateral. 'Are the People of the Mind?' he asked quietly.
Things are starting to make a little more sense now, Teldin told himself. He remembered how the little ratlike creature had brought the fruit to Message Bearer. The trilateral hadn't had to issue any kind of mental order-the Cloakmaster would have 'heard' it if it had. Instead, the trilateral had presumably felt hunger, or maybe just a desire for a fruit. The planetary Mind had somehow sensed that need or desire and had sent part of it forth-in the form of the rat-thing-to satisfy it.
Did it go even further than that? Had the rat-thing picked the fruit, or had the plant-being part of the world- Mind itself-just let the fruit fall? The possibilities were almost endless…
And quite frightening. A human was more intelligent than a rat, largely because a human had a larger brain. A dragon was-arguably-more intelligent than a human, again because it had a larger brain.
What about a brain the size of an entire planet… ? Teldin felt his fear like ice water in the marrow of his bones. 'Do you… communicate with the Mind?' he asked. 'Do you 'think-together' with it?'
The incessant motions of Message Bearer's tentacle tips slowed. Teldin could feel the creature's sadness like a palpable pressure against the fringes of his mind.
'Protects? 'Protects how?' the Cloakmaster asked, suddenly sure he knew the answer. 'Through magic''
'By lights in the sky, by lightning strikes from the ground… ?'
'It must be,' Teldin confirmed.
Message Bearer's pupil tightened down to three fine, intersecting black lines. The sense of scrutiny, of speculation was undeniable.
'If you're asking what I think you're asking, yes,' the Cloakmaster told the creature. 'Your Mind of the World almost destroyed my ship, almost killed my friends.'
The trilateral didn't respond immediately. When it did, its mental voice was slow.
I get the feeling that was an apology, Teldin mused wryly. Then another thought struck him.
'Do the People regret the harm that was done to me and my ship?' he asked.
The answer was as immediate as it was unequivocal.
'Then,' the Cloakmaster pressed, 'if the Mind of the World really responds to your desires, I think you can help us out….'
*****
Teldin stood beside the smashed hull of the
Throughout, he'd sensed their emotional reactions, 'eavesdropped' on their conversation between themselves. While they'd been puzzled at first by the ship's design, they soon came to understand its purpose and basic structure. He could easily detect their surprise and dismay over the fact that the Mind of the World, in protecting and 'cherishing' them, could mete out destruction to 'not-People not-Others not-animals' such as Teldin Moore.
At last he finished his explanations. He gestured around to the crew lining the deck rails-including Djan and Julia, both of whom quite obviously wanted to know just what was going on. They can wait until this is over with,