The Promised Land
Nidorian 02b
(1956)*
Astounding Science Fiction – August 1956
Randall Garrett & Robert Silverberg
(as Robert Randall)

The shortfiction stories The Chosen People, The Promised Land, and False Prophet were expanded in a fix-up titled The Shrouded Planet(1957)

-

But why were the Earthmen working at setting up that School ... what were they seeking to gain in their manipulations of the people of Nidor ...?

-

	They were having something of a ceremony. Out on the lawn in front of the main building of the Bel-rogas School of Divine Law, they were celebrating the school's anniversary. On this date, sixty-one years before, the Earthmen had come down from the sky to help bring the Law to the people of Nidor.

	Sindi geKiv Brajjyd, who was in her first year of study at the school, stood in the shadows of the stable behind the great building and watched the multitude out front. All she could think of was the way they were crushing the grass on the lawn. It seemed a silly and overly sentimental thing, all this speech-making.

	She patted the smooth flank of her deest. "There, boy," she said, "I'm bored, too." The graceful animal snorted and nosed up against the hitching post as if he were anxious to be almost anywhere else but where he was.

	That was the way Sindi felt too, she decided, as her sharp eyes picked out the earnest face of her father. He was seated out front. Kiv, like a good alumnus and responsible leader of Nidorian society, had, of course, come to Bel-rogas to take in the festivities. Right now he was watching the speaker as if he were the Great Light Himself.

	As a matter of fact, the speaker actually was Grandfather Drel peNibro Brajjyd, the current Brajjyd representative on the sixteen-man Council of Elders. Grandfather Drel peNibro had succeeded to the Nidorian ruling body some ten years earlier, on the death of the venerable Bor peDrogh Brajjyd. Sindi could still remember the gnarled, silvered old man who had headed their clan in the years before the accession of Drel peNibro. She had seen Grandfather Bor peDrogh preside over an important religious function only a few weeks before his death. That had been when she was seven.

	Grandfather Drel peNibro was a pompous, somewhat self-important old man who loved making speeches at ceremonial occasions. Sindi was aware of her father's private opinion of him—that he was a tradition-bound, unintelligent old man who had succeeded to the Council solely because he had outlasted all of the deserving contenders. Kiv, who was a priest in Drel peNibro's entourage, had let that opinion drop once, and had done his best to cover for it. But Sindi had noticed it, and it formed part of her mental approach toward the Nidorian Grandfather-hood that constituted the Council.

	Sindi watched Drel peNibro from the shelter of the deest stable. He was wearing the full formal regalia of a Council member, a flamboyant outfit which seemed to Sindi a fairly silly affair and yet somehow still terribly impressive. His voice floated to her through the quiet air of the Nidorian midafternoon.

	"This noble day," he was saying, and then his voice drifted away for a moment. In the distance, Sindi heard the chuffing of the Central Railway Extension that ran the five miles from the Holy City of Gelusar to the Bel-rogas School.

	Then his voice became audible again. Sindi managed to catch him as he said, "... Is our duty to express gratitude toward our benefactors. And yet we cannot do it directly. For whatever benefits the Earthmen have brought us, these sixty-one years, are creditable, not to them—let me make that clear, not to them, but to the Agent of their arrival on our soil."

	The Elder looked upward. The assembled multitude followed suit, and Sindi found herself doing the same thing. She scrutinized the iron-gray cloud layer which partially obscured the Great Light, but which failed to hide His effulgence completely from view.

	Then Grandfather Drel peNibro Went on. "The Bel-rogas School," he 'said, "in its sixty-one years of bringing the Law to the young people of Nidor, has served as an incalculably valuable—"

-

	Sindi strained to catch the Elder's words, which were competing with the harsh breathing-sounds of the deest and the distant drone of the railway. As she leaned forward to hear better—because, though she was too independent a girl to take part willingly in any such foolishness as the anniversary ceremony, she was far too curious about everything to let a word of it escape her ears—as she leaned forward, a new voice came from directly behind her, startling her.

	"Sindi? What are you doing here?"

	She whirled and saw a tall, grave-looking man dismounting from a deest and reaching for a hitching rope. He was pale-skinned, dark-eyed, and bearded. He was Smith, one of the Earthmen who guided the operations of the Bel-rogas School.

	"Hello, Smith," Sindi said uncertainly.

	Smith drew a cloth from his pocket and wiped his face. He was sweating heavily, as most of the Earthmen did in Nidor's moist air. Sindi saw that his deest was near the point of exhaustion. Obviously, Smith had had a long, hard ride from somewhere.

	"Why aren't you out there listening to the Grandfather?" Smith asked. His voice was kind and gentle, like those of all the other Earthmen. "All of the students belong out there, you know. You should be with them."

	Sindi nodded absently. "My father's out there, too," she said.

	Suddenly Smith moved very close to her, and she became conscious of his curious Earthman odor. His eyes were weary-looking, and his beard needed combing. He looked at her for a long time without speaking.

	"Tell me," he finally said, "why you aren't out there with everyone else. Why aren't you with them?"

	Sindi slowly rubbed her hand back and forth over her deest's flank. "Because," she said thoughtfully, not wanting to get into any more trouble than she was already in. "Just because."

	"That's not enough of a reason," the Earthman said. Suddenly Sindi felt terribly small and young next to him.

	"It bored me," she said. "I just didn't want to have to sit out there all day and listen to—" she paused, horrified at herself.

	"And listen to the Elder Brajjyd," Smith completed. He smiled. "Ah, Sindi, how your father would like to hear you say that!"

	She shot a panicky glance at him. "You wouldn't tell him, would you? I didn't mean anything by it! Smith ... Smith—-"

	"Don't worry," Smith said. He reached out and patted her shoulder, caressing the soft golden fuzz that covered it. "Suppose you go over now and take part in the rest of the ceremony, and let me worry about the secrets to keep."

	"Thanks, Smith," she said levelly, all fear suddenly gone. "I'll go out and hear what the Elder has to say." She thumped her deest fondly, smiled at the Earthman, and walked toward the crowd.

-

	Very carefully she tiptoed across the lawn and unobtrusively melted into the crowd. The Elder Brajjyd was still speaking. His powerful voice rang out clearly and well.

	"You see the products of this school around you," the Elder said. "The most valuable members of our priesthood; the leaders of our society; our most brilliant minds—we may trace them all to the Bel-rogas School of Divine Law. I regret," said the Elder sadly, "that I, myself, was unable to attend the school. But before many years elapse, I think it is fairly safe to say, the Council of Elders will be constituted almost totally from among the graduates of Bel-rogas.

	"I see among you today, in this very gathering, men who will undoubtedly hold Council seats one day. From my own clan alone I see several—there is that brilliant Bel-rogas alumnus, Grandfather Kiv peGanz Brajjyd, now one of the most valued members of my staff, and there are others here as well. And to whom do we owe this? To whom—"

	The Elder's voice grew louder and more impassioned. Sindi threaded her way through the close-packed audience, searching for her father. She tried to remember where he had been sitting when she saw him from the stable, and headed in that general direction. The assembled Nidorians were sitting quietly and drinking in the Elder's words. He launched into a long quotation from the Scripture, which Sindi, almost as a reflex, recognized as being from the Eighteenth Section. As the Elder began to unfold the complexities of the quotation Sindi caught sight of Kiv again. There was an empty seat at his left where, no doubt, she had been expected to be sitting.

	She edged through the narrow aisle and slid into the seat. Kiv nodded his welcome to her silently; he had no intention of competing with the Elder.

	"Thus, as it is said in the Scripture," the Elder went on, " 'Those beloved of the Great Light shall hold tomorrow in their hands.' We must never forget this, my friends. May the Great Light illumine your minds as He does the world."

	Drel peNibro stepped from the rostrum and took his seat. The assembly relaxed, easing the long tension built up while the Elder was speaking. Kiv leaned over to whisper to Sindi.

	"Where have you been?" he asked harshly. "I've been expecting you all afternoon. You said you'd meet me for midmeal!"

	"I'm sorry, Kiv," she told him. "I was busy in the labs and couldn't get free till just now."

	"In the labs? On Commemoration Day? Sindi, if you're—"

	"Please, Kiv," she said in annoyance. "I came as quickly as I could. Have I missed much?"

	"Only the Elder Brajjyd's speech," Kiv said in a tone of heavy sarcasm. "He mentioned me. Apparently I'm back in his good graces for a while, no thanks to you."

	"Father! You know I didn't mean to seem disrespectful, that day that I didn't give the grandfather the proper salute. It was only that I was late for classes, and—"

	"Forget it, Sindi," Kiv said. "The Elder seemed quite upset about it at the time, but perhaps he's forgotten it. Meanwhile, I've brought someone I'd like you to meet." He gestured to a strange man sitting at his left.

-

	"This is Yorgen peBor Yorgen," Kiv said. "Yorgen peBor, this is my daughter, Sindi geKiv."

	"Pleased, I'm sure," Yorgen peBor said, in a not-very-enthusiastic tone. Sindi muttered some similar sentiment.

	"You may know Yorgen peBor's father," Kiv continued. "The Grandfather Bor peYorgen Yorgen. And you're aware who his father is, aren't you?"

	Kiv's tone of voice left little doubt.

	"The Elder Grandfather Yorgen peYorgen Yorgen, of course," Sindi said.

	"Yorgen peBor, here, is his son's son. I'd ... I'd like you two to get to know each other well, Sindi." Kiv smiled. What was on his mind was perfectly plain.

	Rahn, Sindi thought, half-despairingly. Rahn ... I won't forget you, anyway.

	"Certainly, father," she said aloud, concealing her distress. "I'm sure Yorgen peBor and I will get along splendidly."

	"I'm sure also," Kiv said. He gestured with his hand at the speaker's platform. "That's not Grandfather Syg going up there to speak, is it? Why, he was teaching here when I was going to the school!"

	"That's who it is, none the less," said Sindi, watching the aged figure climb painfully to the rostrum. The old man, speaking in a dry, withered voice, made some rambling prefatory remarks and embarked on a discussion of die wonderful past of Bel-rogas and the promise the future held. Sindi sat back glumly and contented herself with surreptitiously scrutinizing Yorgen peBor out of the corner of her eye.

	So Kiv was going to marry her off, eh? His motivation in arranging such a match was perfectly transparent: Yorgen peBor was of the highest linage, directly descended from the great Lawgiver, Bel-rogas Yorgen. Yorgen peBor's father was the Uncle of Public Works, a pleasant and well-salaried position to hold, and his father's father was the oldest and most respected member of the Council of Elders. Certainly a marriage into that clan would be advantageous for Kiv as well as Sindi.

	But yet—

	She examined Yorgen peBor, sizing him up as a prospective husband. He was big, not especially handsome in Sindi's eyes, though far from plain, and rather stupid-looking in a genteel sort of way. He promised a dull but pleasant kind of existence.

	She thought of Rahn—penniless Rahn, whose father was a pauper. Oh, well, she thought. We could never have managed it anyway. Too many factors stood in the way of their marriage. And now, the biggest and bulkiest factor was Yorgen peBor Yorgen. With a marriage all but arranged, Sindi didn't dare tell her father she didn't like the idea.

	She searched the crowd anxiously for Rahn, as Grandfather Syg droned on and on. I'd like to see him once more, she thought. Just once.

	She glanced at her father, suppressed a little snort of rage, and sat back to hear what Grandfather Syg had to say. Yorgen peBor Yorgen appeared incredibly bored with the whole thing.

-

	Smith stood beside Sindi's deest, his hand across the neck of the sleek animal, watching the ceremony with a slight smile on his face. He was still perspiring heavily.

	Sixty-one years since the Earth-men had come. It was a magic number, sixty-one. Take three threes. To each, add one—making a total of three ones. That gives three fours. Multiply them together. Four to the third power—four cubed. Subtract three. Sixty-one.

	Such is the power of numerology, Smith thought.

	Someone stepped up beside him, shadowless in the suffused light that came from Nidor's skies.

	Smith turned and grinned.

	"What's up, Harry? You look worried."

	The other Earthman, a tall, lean, hard-faced man with dark hair and greenish-gray eyes, nodded.

	"I am," he said in English. "I've just come from Jones, and he's determined to go through with it. He says it's anthropologically justified, and you know Jones—anthropology all the way."

	"He's going to do it, eh? A public retirement. Well, I hope it'll be an impressive ceremony," Smith said. "We're going to miss him here."

	The other Earthman smiled. "He won't actually be gone, you know. He'll still be available for planning."

	Smith stiffened. "As far as you or I or anyone else on this planet is concerned, when Jones goes up into the clouds he's never going to be heard from again. Remember that, or we'll get into trouble."

	The Earthman known as Harry grinned. "Don't worry. But I have the feeling none of you anthropologists trust the Genetics Division at all."

	"Nonsense," Smith said. "How's your project coming, by the way?"

	"As far as we can tell, this is the critical point in the program," said Harry. "If the Yorgen doesn't pan out as we hoped—"

	Smith cut him off with a wave of his hand. "There's no point in worrying about it now. If the maneuver works out, it works out. If it doesn't, we wait."

	The other man shrugged. "Genetics Division feels that at this point in Nidorian history, we have to make the best combinations we have at hand. That means the Yorgen and Brajjyd strains have to—"

	Again Smith cut him off. "Let Anthropology worry about the historical lines, won't you? Watch the ceremony; it's rather touching."

	The geneticist spread his hands. "All right. You're the boss. What sort of ceremony is it? I mean, what's the significance?"

	"They're showing that they love us, damn it," said Smith tightly.

-

	The celebration ended with a long ceremonial prayer. Sindi wanted desperately to close her eyes against the brilliance of the cloudy sky overhead, but she didn't dare to; her father would see. She didn't want to embarrass Kiv.

	At last it was over. The assembly broke up, slowly, and Commemoration Day was over for another year. The multitude dissolved into little clumps of people.

	Kiv turned to Sindi as the prayer ended. "Now it's over, and I can talk to you," he said. He leaned forward. "Tell me—your letters were all so vague. Do you find the school as wonderful a thing as I did, Sindi?"

	"Wonderful?" She looked puzzled for a moment. "Oh, yes, of course, Kiv," she said. She had been enrolled for only three weeks. "I've been specializing in chemistry. It's very interesting. I have a little laboratory over in the back building, and I work there."

	"A private laboratory?"

	"No—not yet. They'll give me a private lab next year, if they like my work. No; I share it with another first-year man. We work very well together."

	Kiv stroked his golden fuzz reflectively. "That's good to hear,' he said. "What's her name?"

	Sindi paused, then finally blurted out, "It's not a her, Kiv. His name is Rahn peDorvis Brajjyd. He's a very good student."

	"I see," Kiv said. Sindi could tell that he didn't care much for the idea at all. "Rahn peDorvis Brajjyd, eh? A relative, perhaps?"

	"No," Sindi said. "I asked him that, as soon as I found out we were from the same clan. His people are from up north, from Sugon. We're not related at all."

	Kiv frowned, and Sindi watched him anxiously, wondering what it was she had done wrong this time. "Strictly speaking, you know," Kiv said, "that's not true. All Brajjyds are related, no matter how distantly."

	"Oh, Kiv!" Sindi was annoyed. "Don't be so technical all the time. So what if his grandfather ten generations back was a cousin of mine? We're actually not relatives at all, as far as anyone cares."

	"As far as the Law cares, you are," Kiv said. "Don't forget that."

	At this point Yorgen peBor Yorgen cleared his throat in a meaningful fashion, and Kiv frowned apologetically. "But here we are, quarreling like hungry . animals, and I've forgotten about poor Yorgen peBor. I'm sorry I was so impolite," Kiv said.

	"You needn't apologize to me, sir," Yorgen said.

	It was a good point, Sindi thought. In his overeagerness to be nice to Yorgen peBor, Kiv had committed something of a breach of etiquette by apologizing to him. No matter how grievously Kiv had offended the younger man, it was out of place for a grandfather to apologize to anyone younger.

	Kiv smiled inanely, trying to cover his blunder. He moved to one side to allow Yorgen to stand next to Sindi. "Suppose I leave you two here," Kiv said. "There are some old friends I'd like to look up. Tell me—is the Earthman Jones still here?"

	"He is," said Sindi, "but he's pretty hard to get to see. He's always busy and doesn't get around to the students very much any more."

	"He'll see me," Kiv said confidently. "Don't worry about that." He walked away across the lawn, leaving Sindi to cope with Yorgen peBor Yorgen by herself.

	"What's chemistry?" Yorgen asked her, as soon as they were alone. His broad, heavy face reflected an utter lack of knowledge, and he seemed thoroughly complacent about the situation.

	Sindi considered the prospect of spending the rest of her life in the well-meaning but clumsy embraces of Yorgen peBor Yorgen, and entertained some thoughts about her father and his political aspirations which were so vivid in their malevolence that she looked around fearfully to see if anyone had overheard.

-

	Kiv followed the well-worn path to the main building, and entered the big Central Room where he and Narla had so often talked, twenty years before. It looked much the same as his memory told him it had been. The winding staircase leading to the students' rooms still stood massively in the center of the hall, a glossy monument of black wood. The old familiar benches, the rows of books alone the walls, the great windows through which the Great Light gleamed—they were all the same.

	A boy came by with a stack of books under one arm. Kiv looked at him and felt a sharp twinge of nostalgia. The boy's body was bright gold and his eyes were wide and shining. He might have been the twenty-year-old Kiv come back to life.

	Kiv stopped him. "Can you tell me," he asked, "where I can find the Earthman Jones?"

	"Jones' office is upstairs," the boy said. "But he doesn't like visitors."

	"Fine," said Kiv. "Many thanks. May the Great Light—"

	But the boy must have been in a hurry. Before Kiv had completed his blessing, the boy had scooted away. Kiv shook his head sadly and climbed the well-worn stairs to Jones' office.

	He paused before the door, then knocked twice, firmly. There was no reply from within.

	He knocked again.

	A soft, barely audible voice replied, "Who's there?"

	"May I come in?"

	There was no answer. Kiv waited five seconds, then knocked again. After a short pause, the answer came.

	"Who are you, please?"

	"Kiv peGanz Brajjyd," Kiv said loudly. Again, no response for a few seconds. Then the door clocked open, and the soft voice said, "Come on in."

	Kiv pushed the door open and peered in. Jones was standing behind the chair next to the door. Kiv remembered the tired-looking, strangely alien blue eyes, the short, almost arrogant little beard, the smooth Terran face.

	"It's been twenty years," Kiv said.

	"Has it been that long?" asked Jones. "I've barely noticed. It seems like it was just last week that you were here, and your wife ... what was her name?"

	"Narla."

	"Narla. And you were doing research on insects ... the hugl, as I recall, wasn't it?"

	Kiv nodded. He stared at Jones.

	"You're old," Kiv suddenly said. "I remember your beard—it was brown. Now it's silver—the way an Elder's body hair is."

	Jones smiled. "The Great Light deals with all His subjects in one way," he said. "I have been on Nidor fifty years, Kiv. One's beard does turn to silver in fifty years."

	He moved toward his desk, still littered with papers, and casually turned a sheet of paper face down, not concealing the action from Kiv.

	"School records," he explained. "It wouldn't do for the parent of one of our pupils to see them. Confidential, you know. That is your daughter, of course? Sindi geKiv? A tall, very slender girl? I don't know the students as well as I did in your day."

	"Sindi's my daughter," Kiv acknowledged.

	"A fine girl. She'll make a better scientist than her father, they tell me—and we know how good her father was! We don't see many hugl any more, do we, Kiv? Your technique wiped them out almost completely."

	"I'd almost forgotten about that," Kiv said. "Almost. But I think of it every now and then. It was one of the high points of a life that's far behind me."

	"It was a clever technique, as I remember it," said Jones. His face appeared dreamy, as if he were lost in reminiscences. "It involved altering an age-old Nidorian custom, the one of spraying the fields with Edris powder every time the hugl swarms came down to eat. You thought of spraying the lakes instead, and killing the larval hugl. You must be a hero among the farmers," Jones said. "The hugl is practically extinct."

	"So are the Edris powder manufacturers," Kiv said. "My technique has destroyed their livelihood." His voice was sad. "They depended on the hugl raids to sell their goods. No more hugl, no Edris demand. It's made me sad to think of the changes in Nidor since my days at Bel-rogas."

	Jones frowned. "It's made you sad? Why, Kiv? I thought you would be happy."

-

	"I am a priest now," Kiv said.

	"I'm no longer the young hothead I once was. And I see the patterns changing, and it frightens me."

	"Have you talked like this to anyone before?" Jones asked abruptly.

	"No ... no," Kiv said. "I've only recently come to realize it, and I've been waiting for today for this chance to discuss it with you. It's not only the Edris manufacturers. Other things are changing, too. The way my daughter acts, for instance."

	"Your daughter is merely a reflection of yourself, Kiv. Your thoughts, your opinions, all eventually are taken over by her. Is the failure yours, as a parent?"

	Kiv studied his hands. Once again, Jones was the teacher, he was the blind, fumbling pupil. As it had been twenty years ago, when Jones had led him, prodded him, pushed him into the knowledge that had led him to end the hugl menace, he was at Jones' feet.

	"Is the failure mine? How? I've lived by the Law and the Scripture—you taught me yourself. I've raised her with the greatest care. And yet ... and yet—"

	Jones stood up, chuckling. "You are the one who should be retiring, Kiv."

	"Retiring? Are you retiring?"

	"Soon," said Jones casually. "The Great Light wants me, I fear. But you're the one who should go. You have become a terribly old man very quickly. You sit here, protesting about the behavior of the younger generation, even though you know it's foolish to protest. Your parents worried about the way you carried on, and Sindi's going to think her children are deviating from the Law. It's an inevitable pattern, bound up with growing old. But don't worry about it, Kiv. Sindi's a fine, Law-abiding youngster. She's a credit to you, Kiv, and don't ever forget it."

	Kiv looked uneasily at the old Earthman. "I see these things, and yet you tell me—"

	Jones put his hands on Kiv's shoulders. "Kiv, listen to me. The Edris manufacturers had to go. It was a natural evolution. You can't feel guilt over it; what if you hadn't come up with your technique? We'd all have starved by now, not just the Edris men. And your daughter's a good girl. Do you have any plans for her marriage, yet?"

	"I'm considering a high member of the Yorgen clan," Kiv said. Once again he felt relieved; twenty years later, Jones was still a master at the art of removing burdens from his shoulders.

	Jones moved a thin hand through his silvery chin hair.

	"Have you made the formal arrangements yet?" he asked.

	"Not quite," Kiv told him. "The Yorgens, after all, have a high position. It takes a great deal of negotiation. But the outlook is promising."

	Jones looked out of the window at the fading glow of the Great Light and nodded slowly. "It would require a great deal, of course." He said nothing for a long minute, still staring at the silver glow of the sky. After a while, he said: "What does Sindi think of this marriage?"

	Kiv frowned. "What does she think of it? Why, I don't know. I haven't asked her. Why? Does it matter?"

	Jones turned from the window and smiled. "No. Not in the least. Believe me when I say that this is probably the best decision you could have made."

	Kiv smiled back. "Then you do approve of my choice for Sindi's husband?"

	Jones nodded. "I do. Most emphatically, I do. I can't think of a better choice you could have made." His queer non-Nidorian eyes looked at Kiv. "You are improving, my boy. Even though you don't know what the Great Light intends for you, you are still doing His Will."

	Kiv bowed his head. "May your forefathers bless you, Jones. May they bless you."

	"Thank you, Kiv," said the Earth-man. "And now, if you please, I would like to study. An old man must do many things in a short time."

	"You're actually retiring, then?" Kiv asked.

	"It's not something I'd joke about, Kiv. I feel that I've been called."

	"We'll miss you," Kiv said sincerely. "And I'll miss you more than anyone else."

	"Thank you," the Earthman said again. "And now—"

	"Of course." Kiv bowed politely and left the Earthman's study.

	When he returned to the courtyard, the crowd had already deserted it. Only Yorgen peBor stood there, leaning against one of the trees looking as though he couldn't care less that he was in the courtyard of the great Bel-rogas School. Kiv walked over to him.

	"Yorgen peBor, where is Sindi?" he asked.

	"I believe she has gone to her room, Grandfather," the young man said with an air of bored politeness. "She left me only a few minutes ago. To go to her room," he said.

	He was wrong. That was the excuse Sindi had given him, but she had headed, instead, for the lab, very much pleased to rid herself of the company of Yorgen peBor Yorgen if only for a few minutes.

	Rahn peDorvis Brajjyd was a tall, hard-muscled young man whose fine down of body hair was just a shade darker than Sindi's. He was sitting at one of the benches, absorbed in a textbook, when Sindi slid the lab door open.

	"I thought I'd find you here," she said softly as he looked up. "Didn't you see the ceremony at all?"

	He grinned at her. "No. My father wasn't one of the dignitaries, so he wasn't there to force me to go. I stayed here."

	Sindi half frowned. "That's not-fair, Rahn. Besides, I wouldn't have gone either if Smith hadn't caught me in the stables. He made me go."

	"Too bad," he said, still grinning. "I hope you won't get into any trouble because of it."

	"I won't. Smith's all right." She looked at him and smiled, then, as she struggled to think out what she had to say next.

	"Rahn," she said finally, "do you know Yorgen peBor Yorgen?"

	Rahn rubbed a hand over the soft down on his cheek. "I know of him, but I don't know him personally. Why?"

	"What do you mean, you know of him?"

	Rahn's shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. "He's rich and has money to burn. He's known to keep company with a girl named Lia gePrannt Yorgen, but don't go repeating that around. He's got the reputation of being a fast lad with a set of pyramid-dice and is known to take a drink or two occasionally. He has a sort of group of loyal followers from the ... ah ... poorer classes. They like his money. He's, not too bright." Suddenly, he stopped and scowled at her. "Why? He's not coming to Bel-rogas, is he?"

	Sindi shook her head. "No. I just wondered what he was like. He was at the ceremony, and I was introduced to him." She didn't feel like mentioning that it had been her father who had introduced her; Rahn would know at once what that meant, and she didn't want him to know—yet.

-

	Again Rahn shrugged. "For all I know, he's a nice enough sort of fellow—just a little wild, that's all. I must say I envy him his money, though."

	The girl put her hand on his. "Rahn, you're not going to bring that up again, are you?"

	He shook his head and put his free hand over hers, holding it tight. "Sindi, when will you get it through your head that I don't blame you or your father for what happened to the family fortune?"

	"But your father—"

	"My father does, sure, but it was his own fault. If he hadn't been so stubborn, he'd have been all right. But he said that his father and his father's father and his grandfather's father had been Edris manufacturers,, and his fathers before them for hundreds of years, and by the Great Light, he was going to go on manufacturing Edris powder.

	"He just couldn't understand what had happened when your father found out a better way to use it and practically wiped out the hugl so that there wasn't any need for tons and tons of the stuff any more. My father got hung by his own product.

	"But just because father can't accept change; just because he had to blame someone else for his own short-sightedness, that doesn't mean I feel that way."

	"I know," she said, squeezing his hand. "But I—"

	There was a sound at the door, and she jerked her hand away from his. She turned around just as Kiv entered the room.

	"Hello, father," she said sweetly, managing rather successfully to cover up.

	"I wondered where you were, Sindi." He looked at Rahn and smiled politely. "How do you do, young man."

	"I ask your blessing, Grandfather," Rahn said, bowing his head.

	Kiv gave the blessing, and Sindi said: "Father, this is Rahn peDorvis Brajjyd, my lab mate."

	"I am pleased to know you, my son," Kiv said. His smile hadn't faded a fraction. "PeDorvis? Isn't your father Dorvis peDel?"

	"Yes, Grandfather." Rahn s voice was a little stiff.

	"I think I met him, years ago. Take my blessing to your father-when you see him next."

	"I shall, Grandfather," Rahn said politely. But Sindi knew he was lying. The blessing of Kiv peGanz Brajjyd was something that Dorvis peDel would never care to accept.

	"You must excuse us, Rahn peDorvis," Kiv said. "My daughter and I have some things we must discuss." He made a ritual gesture. "The peace of your Ancestors be with you always."

	"And may the Great Light illumine your mind as He does the world, Grandfather," Rahn returned in proper fashion.

	He stood silently as father and daughter left the room.

	Outside, Sindi said nothing. She walked quietly by Kiv's side, wondering what he was thinking. They walked halfway up the long paved roadway before Kiv broke his silence.

	"He seems like a pleasant young man," Kiv said. "At least he knows the greeting rituals and uses them. So many of the younger people today tend to forget their manners.

	" And that was all he had to say.

-

	On the day of Jones' retirement, the students were asked to gather in the square. Word went round the rooms that a very special ceremony was to be held, and as the students filed into the square curiosity was evident on their faces.

	Sindi and Rahn came straight from the laboratory, and got there late. They stood well to the rear of the clustered students, their backs pressed against the smooth granite wall of the Administration Building.

	Unlike the recent Commemoration-Day events, this was to be no public demonstration. Only the students and faculty of the School were present.

	The rumors of Jones' retirement had been spreading for some- time, and it became apparent that this was indeed to take place when the Head Grandfather of the School, fat old Gils peKlin Hebylla, made a short, dignified speech about how the Earthmen were emissaries of the Great Light Himself, and how the Great Light found it necessary to call them back when their work was done. The kindly old man was neither pompous nor maudlin about it; it was easy to see that he meant every word. Sindi fancied that she could feel an undercurrent of personal emotion in his words, as though he were contemplating the fact that he, too, was approaching the Eternal Light.

	When he was through, the Earth-man looked at the hushed crowd for several seconds before he rose slowly from his seat on the marble steps of the Administration Building.

	"Children," he said at last, "I have been here at Bel-rogas School for fifty long years. I have tried to show you, as best I could, what it means to follow the Law and the Scripture. I hope you have, by this time, seen where strict obedience of the Law may lead—or perhaps you have yet to see it.

	"I have attempted to show you the wonders of nature that the Great Light has put here for you to see and use.

	"I do not know how many of you will use this knowledge, nor how wisely you will use it, but you must always remember that the Great Light Himself will always answer all questions if they are properly asked of Him. The discovery of His way is the science of asking questions. And if you ask Him and He does not answer, then you have not asked the question properly.

	"Ask again, in a different way, and you may have the answer. The answer lies in the question, not in the person who asks it.

	"If the wrong person asks it, he may get the right answer, but he will not be able to understand it."

	"I think I see what he means," said Rahn in an undertone. "Like in chemistry—if we want to know what a rock is made of, we have to analyze it. That's the right way to ask."

	"Shh!" Sindi said sharply.

	"Now the time has come for me to leave you," Jones went on. "I must return to the sky from whence I came. My place will be taken by a man who is quite capable of carrying on the great work that we came here to do. Smith has been with us for ten years and has another forty years of work before he, too, is called back to his home.*

	"I wish you all well, children, and may the Great Light illumine your minds as He does the world."

	As he held out his hand in blessing, Smith stood up and put his arm around Jones' shoulder for a moment.

	"Good-by, my friend," he said simply. "I'll see you again in forty years."

	Jones nodded and said nothing. He allowed his arms to fall to his side, and he stood silently, straight and tall, somehow mysterious in his alien dignity.

	Then, quite suddenly, an aura of blue-white radiance sprang from his body. Slowly, he rose from the steps and lifted into the air. With increasing speed, he rose higher and higher.

	The crowd watched in awed silence, tilting their heads far back to watch the Earthman disappear into the haze of the eternal clouds.

-

	Sindi was patting on her best shorts and beaded vest on the morning of the Feast of the Sixteen Clans, twenty days after the ascension of Jones, when her roommate burst into the room.

	"Sindi! There's someone downstairs to see you! And is he handsome!"

	Sindi fastened the belt at her waist. "Don't blither, Mera. Who is it?"

	"Oh, you! Always too calm! I don't know who it is. He just asked if Sindi geKiv Brajjyd was here, and I told him you were. He's riding on a big, pretty deest, and he's tall, and—"

	"Oh, Great Light!" Sindi swore in dismay. "I'll bet I know who it is! Yorgen peBor Yorgen! That's who!"

	She ran out of the room and down the hall to the front of the building, where a window looked down over the courtyard before the Young Women's Quarters. Cautiously, she looked down, staying well back in the shadows of the gloomy hallway.

	It was Yorgen peBor, all right.

	Come to think of it, Mera was right, Yorgen did look quite striking, mounted on the magnificent deesc and looking as if the whole world owed him homage.

	I wonder what he wants? she thought. He would have to get permission to come calling here. And I'll bet he has it.

	She ran back to her room and finished dressing quickly, ignoring Mera's bubbling conversation. When she finally stepped out of the door of the dormitory, she looked like a young queen.

	"Good Feast Day, Sindi geKiv," Yorgen said in his smooth tenor voice,.

	"Good Feast Day," she answered. "What brings you here at this early hour, Yorgen peBor?"

	"I started before the Great Light touched the sky," he said, "I have brought a letter from your father." He handed her the neatly folded and sealed paper.

	Sindi thanked him, took the letter, and broke the seal.

	It was from Kiv.

	"To my daughter, Sindi, on the Day of the Feast of the Sixteen Clans. Since I know you'll be riding into the Holy City to attend the midday services at the Temple, I thought you would like someone to go with you. Young Yorgen peBor will deliver this letter and escort you to the Temple. I hope you will both find light in your minds and do your worship with reverence in your thoughts."

	It was signed: "Your loving father."

	She looked up at Yorgen and smiled. "I'll be most happy to attend the Clan Day services with you, Yorgen peBor," she said. In view of her father's note, there was nothing else she could have said.

	"The honor is mine," Yorgen replied politely.

	"If you'll wait here a few minutes, I'll get ready for the ride. My deest is in the stables, and—"

	"May I get your animal for you?" Yorgen asked.

	"Would you please? That's sweet of you."

	"Again, a pleasure, Sindi geKiv." He tugged at the reins, turned the deest smartly, and trotted off in the direction of the school's stable.

	Sindi ran back into the dormitory, took the stairway at top speed, and ran into her room. Mera was at the end of the hall. Evidently she had watched the whole procedure.

	"What's up, Sindi?" she asked as she came into the room.

	Sindi was at her desk, writing furiously. "I'm going to the temple with Yorgen," she said without glancing up.

	"Oh? I thought you were going to the chapel with Rahn."

	"This is father's idea, Mera. He has chosen Yorgen for me."

	Mera frowned. "It's too bad you and Rahn are both Brajjyds. Still, in-clan marriages have taken place, you know."

	"Don't be ridiculous," Sindi snapped. She was still continuing to fill the paper with neat script.

	"Well," Mera said, "it might not be sanctioned, but I happen to know that a lot of young couples who were of the same Clan just went to another city. The girl lies about her names and they're man and wife by the time they get there. You could go to Elvisen or Vashcor and—"

	"Shut up, Mera. It's impossible. I couldn't leave Bel-rogas, and neither could Rahn. I'll do things the way they should be done, thank you. I don't believe in being sacrilegious."

	Mera shrugged. "All right, do it your way. I still think it's a foolish law."

	Sindi tightened her lips and said nothing. She finished what she was writing, folded it, and sealed it.

	"Give this to Rahn, will you?" she asked, handing the letter to Mera.

	"Sure, Sindi. Have a good time."

	By the time Yorgen peBor Yorgen returned with her deest, Sindi was waiting demurely for him on the steps of the dormitory.

-

	The five-mile ride into the Holy City of Gelusar, capital of Nidor, was punctuated only by occasional small talk. It was obvious to Sindi that Yorgen peBor was no more anxious for the match than she was. But what could either of them do? Marriages were arranged by parents; their judgment was wiser in picking a mate than a child's could possibly be.

	Holy Gelusar was teeming with people in their holy day finery, each one walking or riding toward one of the many smaller temples in the city. Some of the more important people were going to the Great Temple in the center of Gelusar, but even that gigantic edifice could hold only a small portion of the city's population.

	Naturally, as a grandson of the great Yorgen peYorgen Yorgen, young Yorgen peBor would have a reserved seat in the temple itself. They would not have to stand outside in the Square of Holy Light, as many thousands would have to do when the ceremonies began.

	The square was, in fact, already crowded when they reached the Great Temple. They circled the Square and stabled their deests in the private stalls behind the huge building.

	"If we go in the back way, Sindi geKiv," said Yorgen, "we can avoid the crowds. There's a side hall that runs along the auditorium."

	She followed him through the rear entrance. An acolyte stationed there to prevent unauthorized persons from entering nodded politely to Yorgen and allowed them to pass. The hall was long and poorly lit by the occasional candles that burned in sconces in the wall. Yorgen said nothing; he didn't even hold her hand as they moved down the corridor.

	Sindi wondered, for a moment, when her father would make the betrothal official. Actually, it was official now; only the ceremony was lacking.

	The corridor ended abruptly, bringing up short against a massive door of bronze wood. Yorgen twisted the lock and pushed it open. A low murmur of sound came through the opening, and Sindi could see the auditorium of the temple beyond. It was already beginning to fill with people. In the vast hush of the huge room, lit only by the gas mantles around the walls and the glowing spot at the altar, the golden glint of light against the bodies of the worshipers gave the temple an almost supernatural appearance. The people seemed not real to her, as though they were marionettes moving against a staged background.

	It was the first time Sindi had ever been in the Great Temple on a feast day. Always before, she had gone to the Kivar Temple on the southern side of Gelusar. It was a small, almost cozy temple which actually made her feel as though the Great Light were there to protect her.

	This was completely different. The huge lens in the roof of the gigantic auditorium was much bigger than any other glass lens built on Nidor, and the light that came through it to strike the altar was brighter than any other spot in any temple anywhere.

	What was it that the Earthman, Smith, had called the Great Light? A blue-white star. What did that mean? To Sindi, nothing. But it sounded mysterious and reverent, although she did not understand the color reference. The light that streamed through the lens to be focused on the hard marble of the altar wasn't blue or white—it was a soft, golden yellow that seemed warm and friendly and powerful.

-

	Yorgen was saying: "We'll have to move down toward the front, Sindi geKiv. Our pew is in the third row."

	She followed him down the aisle with head bowed, as was proper in the Presence of the Great Light. When they reached the row of upholstered benches that was reserved for the use of the Yorgen Yorgens, Sindi slid in and kneeled before the glowing spot of light that rested just off the center of the altar. When it reached the exact center, the ceremonies would begin.

	"Uh ... Sindi geKiv, I'd ... ah ... I'd like to have you meet a friend of mine." Yorgen's voice, a conversational whisper, somehow sounded strained and hoarse.

	Sindi turned her head to look. The girl was sitting on the other side of Yorgen and was smiling in an odd sort of way at her.

	"Sindi geKiv Brajjyd, I should like to have you meet Lia gePrannt—Yorgen," he added almost reluctantly. "Lia gePrannt, this is Sindi geKiv."

	Lia's smile broadened for a moment, then relaxed. "I'm glad to meet you," she said.

	"As am I," Sindi returned. The girl was evidently one of Yorgen's relatives who—

	Then it came to her. What was it Rahn had said? He's known to keep company with a girl named—Lia gePrannt Yorgen.

	And then, quite suddenly, Sindi understood a great many things. She knew why the girl had given her such an odd smile; she knew the reason for Yorgen's hesitancy; she knew why Yorgen was so polite and formal toward her.

	She found herself liking Yorgen peBor Yorgen.

	She not only liked him, she knew him. She knew how his mind worked, and why he acted the way he did.

	In that flash of illumination, Sindi geKiv Brajjyd learned a great many things. About others, about herself.

	She looked back at the glow of the Great Light upon the altar-top and smiled to herself.

	Thank you, Great Light, for the light you have shed upon my mind.

	Perhaps Yorgen was a blockhead; perhaps he was shallow. But, in spite of the fact that she didn't love him, she at least knew him, and that would make their life together bearable. Perhaps, Sindi thought, the old men were wisest after all. The old ways still retained some merit. Kiv had not picked a worthless husband for her.

	The glowing spot of light on the altar had reached the mirrored depression in the center, and it began to get brighter and brighter.

	And then the great bronze gong that hung beside the altar was struck by an acolyte behind it. It shuddered out its ringing bass note, and the services for the Feast of the Sixteen Clans began.

-

	When they rode back to the School of Divine Law, Yorgen left Sindi at the gate. He thanked her for her company, assured her that he would like to see her again, soon, and rode back toward the city.

	Sindi guided her deest toward the stables and dismounted at the door. She led the animal inside and took off the saddle. She noticed that the stall next to hers was empty. Rahn had evidently gone into the city, then. Most of the students had at-tended the services at the school's small chapel, rather than ride into Gelusar. Besides, some of the students who had come from distant cities had no proper parish in Gelusar.

	She took a heavy, rough towel from its peg on the wall and began to wipe the perspiration off the back and sides of the deest. She was just through with one side when Mera came running into the stable barn.

	"Sindi! One of the girls told me you'd just come in. Here! It's a letter from Rahn. He left it with me. He told me to give it to you as soon as you came back."

	Mera held out the folded, slightly grimy sheet of paper. Sindi dropped the towel, snatched the letter from her roommate's hand, and tore it open.

-
My dearest darling Sindi,

	I knew this would happen—I suppose we both knew it. But I didn't think it would be so soon. You will have to marry Yorgen, of course; you can never marry me. But I'm afraid I can't stay to watch it. I couldn't bear to see you betrothed to that deestbrained playboy.

	I love you, Sindi, and I'll always love you. Try to think well of me. I wish you the best happiness.

Rhan pD. B.
-

	She stared at the letter, reading it a second time, then a third. She looked up at Mera.

	"What is it?" Mera asked. "Bad news?"

	"No ... no," Sindi said, struggling to keep a calm appearance up for the benefit of her roommate. "Just a little note about some lab work."

	"Oh," Mera said in relief. "The way you looked when you read that had me worried."

	"Don't be silly," said Sindi. "Thanks for bringing the note down here." She folded up the letter and tucked it in a pocket, and picked up the towel. The deest was heavily beaded with perspiration, and for a few moments she let die work of wiping the animal off drive all thoughts from her mind.

	She went about her work methodically, finished caring for the animal, and headed back to her lab room. It was, she knew, the only place where she could really be alone now.

	Once she was inside, among the familiar, almost beloved pieces of apparatus, experiments-in-progress, dirty textbooks and heaps of soiled lab clothing, she bolted the door and sat down in a chair—Rahn's chair. She read the letter once again.

	I'm afraid I can't stay to watch 'it, it said. That explained why Rahn's deest had been missing from the stable. The silly goose had run off somewhere.

	Sindi thought of Rahn, quiet, serious-minded, a little shy, always polite and respectful, and then she thought of Yorgen. Yorgen, who didn't love her, and Lia gePrannt, whom Yorgen did love. And suddenly, with perfect clarity, the thought came to her that there was just one logical thing to do: go to Rahn, wherever he might be.

-

	But where was he? Some cautious probing around the school made it evident that none of his few close friends knew where he might have gone to. Had he gone home? No; Sindi rejected the idea. Rahn's father, Dorvis peDel, was a proud and fierce man, even more so since his heavy fall. Rahn would never dare return home as a failure, to announce that he had left the Bel-rogas School for some trifling reason. Sindi tried to picture the scene that would result when .Dorvis peDel found out that it had been because of Kiv peGanz' daughter that his son had left.

	No; it seemed impossible that Rahn had run away home.

	The next strongest possibility was that he had gone down to Gelusar. If that were so, it wouldn't be any easy matter for Sindi to find him. Gelusar was Nidor's biggest city, and it would be simple for a lovesick boy to lose himself quite efficiently in it.

	But the drawback there was that Gelusar was only five miles from the school, and there was fairly steady traffic between Bel-rogas and the Holy City. Gelusar was always full of people from the school; there was a fairly good chance that, in time, Rahn would be seen and recognized by someone.

	Sindi got up and petulantly flipped on a burner, and stared at the flickering flame until her eyes began to smart. Everything in the lab bore Rahn's imprint: the retort filled with a mysterious golden-green liquid standing just above their row of notebooks, the dent in the burner where Rahn had once dropped it, the sloppy mementos of his presence all over the lab.

	There was one logical place where he would have gone, and as the answer occurred to Sindi it also struck her that she would have to get moving in a hurry in order to catch him in time. He would be heading for the seaport of Vashcor, Nidor's second largest city, three days' journey away on the other side of the forbidding Mountains of the Morning.

	He had often talked of going to Vashcor. He had wanted to travel, to have adventure, and Vashcor was the gateway. Of course, Sindi thought—he had gone to Vashcor!

	She drew a deep breath, tidied together some of the notebooks just to keep her hands busy, and took a few tentative paces around the lab while she decided exactly what she was going to do. Then she dashed out of the lab at top speed.

-

	Her deest was waiting patiently at the hitching post, but the animal looked tired and not at all anxious to undergo a long journey. She glanced down at the other stalls, and selected the biggest and sturdiest animal there. It was Smith's.

	"Sorry, Smith," she said. "But I need your deest." She unslipped the hitching rope and led the animal out of the stable. She leaped lightly into the saddle, which Smith had thoughtfully left in place, stowed her lunchpack in the saddlebag, and guided the deest down the winding turf road that led away from Bel-rogas.

	Vashcor was due East. The read was a good one, running up to the low-lying outhills of the Mountains of the Morning and then detouring around the great bleak mountains. No one ever went near the Mountains of the Morning. They were cold, nasty-looking peaks, bare of vegetation. The nightly rain of Nidor washed them clean of soil and left them standing, naked teeth jabbing up out of the plains.

	Aside from their uninviting appearance, there was an aura of taboo surrounding the Mountains. They were dead and empty, and for the Nidorians anything dead was sacred and hence somewhat to be feared.

	However, Sindi thought, I'm going to go over those mountains. They're not going to scare me.

	It was a matter of necessity. Rahn had had several hours' jump on her, and unless she caught up with him he might easily reach Vashcor and ship out for points unknown before she could find him. If she detoured across the mountains, she might be able to make up the head start Rahn had, since he would go the long way, around them.

	That is, she might be able to make up the difference. There was no guarantee that the mountains were passable.

	As she left the outskirts of the school and headed down the open road to Vashcor, she muttered a brief but heartfelt prayer. The Great Light seemed particularly bright that afternoon, and she took it as a good omen.

	The road traveled through perfectly flat countryside for mile upon mile. Far in the distance, half-hidden by the cloudy haze, she could see the Mountains of the Morning. Behind them was Vashcor.

	The first part of the lonely journey took her through fairly populous farm territory. The roads were hardly crowded, but occasionally farmers going to market passed her, recognized her School costume, and saluted respectfully. Occasionally, yokels called things after her as she sped by.

	Then, as the Great Light started to dim for the evening, the character of the countryside changed, and the farms became fewer and more widely spaced. Sindi became uneasy, and had some grave doubts about the wisdom of her wild venture, especially when it grew dark and the ever-present night-time drizzle of Nidor began. Cold, hungry, a little frightened, and, before long, soaking wet through her light garments, she nevertheless urged the deest onward.

	Morning came, and she realized she had no idea where the night had gone. There was the sudden realization that it was light out, and the rain had ended, and the Great Light's warmth was in the air, and that was all there was to tell her that there had been passage of time.

	The Mountains of the Morning—the name seemed appropriate, now—were closer than ever before. They loomed up high on the horizon, huge purplish piles of stone. Certainly, Sindi thought, they were a grim and foreboding barrier to contemplate crossing.

	The road was completely deserted now. Sindi kept staring ahead, hoping perhaps to get some glimpse of Rahn, but there was no one in sight.

	She continued on through that morning, pausing once to rest her deest for a while. The unfortunate animal was near the point of collapse. She let the deest stretch out in the road for about ten minutes, and then, impatient to get on, urged the animal up.

	"Let's go," she said to the deest. The animal broke into a weary canter and clattered along the road.

	After about two hours of solitary riding, Sindi spotted a figure coming toward her on the road. For a moment she thought wildly it might be Rahn, returning, but as the other drew near she saw it was an ancient man, riding a bedraggled-looking old deest.

	She pulled up, anxious merely for the company of another person.

	"Hoy, Father!"

	"Hoy," the old man replied. He was dressed in rustic costume, and was probably a venerable farmer returning from a visit to Vashcor. "Where to, youngster?"

	"Vashcor, Father," Sindi said.

	"A long journey for one so young," the old man commented.

	Sindi smiled and nodded. "I'll manage. Tell me, old one: Have you seen anyone else going in that direction this morning?"

	The old man thought for a moment. "Well, no. That is ... yes, I did see one. Young fellow, heading for Vashcor as fast as could be."

	"What did he look like?"

	The farmer chuckled. "Oh, I can't remember things like that, youngster. I don't see very clearly any more, you know. But he stopped to ask if he was on the right route to Vashcor. He wanted to know what the quickest route there was."

	Sindi rocked impatiently back and forth on the deest. "And what did you tell him?"

	"I said for him to keep going on the road he was on, of course. This is the best road to Vashcor." The old man paused again, and a frown added new wrinkles to those already on his brow. "But then I laughed and told him if he was really in a hurry he could make a short cut over the Mountains, and blast it if he didn't take me seriously and do it! Last I saw of him, the fool was heading for the foothills. He must be crazy; no one ever goes near those moun—"

	At that Sindi dug her heels into the deest and went charging away, leaving the old man still standing by the roadside. "May the Great Light bless you," she called back at him.

-

	He had taken the mountain path? Sindi frowned, realizing that her planned short cut now was no advantage at all in the race to head Rahn off, but a necessity. She stared up at the mountains, now quite close.

	The road started to sheer off to one side of the range, which was not a very wide one. As soon as Sindi became aware that she was traveling along the detour, she cut off the road and started across the gray-green fields.

	After a while the vegetation died out and bare desert appeared. And then Sindi spotted something that made her heart pound: well-defined deest tracks, leading toward the Mountains.

	They had been made recently.

	They could only be Rahn's.

	She followed the trail carefully, and the land began to rise as she entered the foothills. The air was perfectly still. Not even a breeze broke the silent calmness. There was only one thing she could do. Keep moving.

	It was hours later before the thin sand of the foothills could no longer hold the footprints of the deest she was following. Here, as far as she knew, no living person had ever gone. There was no need to; the Mountains of the Morning were barren—devoid of all life except lichen and small insectoidal creatures. Nothing that needed soil could live in these mountains; soil couldn't last long when it was floated away each night by the cooling drizzle that washed the planet when the Great Light was gone.

	And now, there was not even sand to register Rahn's prints. Which way would he go? The easiest way, of course. Whichever way that was, that would be the path she must take.

	The path led through barren rock that angled higher and higher toward the summits of the peaks which loomed around her; giant crags, like broken teeth sticking out of a dead skull.

	The deest was beginning to give out. His breath was short, and his strength seemed scarcely capable of holding up the weight of his own body, much less that of the girl on his back. Finally, Sindi dismounted and began to lead the tired animal. Her high-heeled riding boots were poor equipment for climbing across the bare boulders of the mountain, but she knew her bare feet would be even worse.

	The daylight was beginning to fade again by the time she decided to sit and rest. How had Rahn gone on this far? She didn't know, but she knew that only a driving passion could push him on this far—an inverted passion, a passion that pushed him away from her instead of pulling him toward her.

	She sat on a nearby crag of basaltic rock and put her head in her arms, wishing gloomily that she had had the good sense to run off with Rahn when the idea had first been suggested to her. If she had, none of this would have—-

	Clunk!

	Sindi jerked her head up and looked around her in the fading light. What had made the noise?

	And then she knew, as the faint purr of a deest reached her ears.

	She climbed to the top of a nearby boulder and looked around. There, only a few dozen yards away, was another deest, grazing peacefully. But there was no rider. The saddle had been removed.

	Rahn, knowing he could go no farther with the animal, had relieved it of its burden and set it free. And it could only have been a few minutes before, or the deest would have made its way farther down the mountains, where there was grass to eat and soft sod on which to lie. Now, the deest seemed to be waiting for its master to return. Rahn couldn't have left it too long ago.

	She took everything she had and put it into the pack on her back. Then she pulled the saddle off the deest and slapped it on the rump.

	"Move off, fella. Go home. Smith is going to want you."

	The deest trotted off. She started up the rocky incline, keeping her eyes open for places where Rahn had disturbed the rockfalls, searching for his footprints in the gravel.

	Something had been driving Rahn, all right. He had wanted so badly to escape, to run away to Vashcor, that he had taken this insane route over the mountains.

	The route that she, just as insanely, was following.

	She kept moving, despite the pain in her feet from the high heels of the riding boots she was wearing. And all the time she climbed, she knew she was following Rahn into the one place where neither of them really wanted to go—the one place where they could really be free from the network of age-old Nidorian customs that bound them—the one place where they could find peace together—the Halls of Death.

-

	The pale, colorless glow of the Lesser Light made the rocks seem like great lumps of bread dough. They had the color, but not the consistency.

	Suddenly, she realized that she had heard a noise—had been hearing it for the past several minutes without paying any particular notice. She stopped climbing, to still the sound of her boots crunching against the gravel.

	For a moment, she could hear nothing, then the sound came again. A hum. A buzz. What was it? Whatever it was, it was directly ahead, and it definitely was not the sound of someone climbing.

	She listened for a few moments more, and then resumed her climb.

	It was several minutes later when she saw the light ahead of her. Then, when she came over the edge of a little outcropping, she saw something that was so totally alien to her that it took a long time even to partially understand it.

	It was a plain, a broad, flat plain. Acres and acres of ground had been leveled and smoothed and covered with concretelike rock. And all around the edge were colored lights, some green, some red, some yellow, some white. Close to the edge nearest her were little buildings with lights on them and inside them. What did it mean? Who would build up here?

	Sindi geKiv Brajjyd had never seen a spaceport before. Nor would she, ever again.

	She just stood there for what seemed like a long time, trying to make sense out of what she saw. It was not until she saw something moving that she was jerked suddenly back to reality.

	A squad of men were marching out of the darkness of the craggy rocks and heading through the lighted area toward the cluster of little buildings. Sindi frowned down at them for a second and then had to stifle a little scream.

	They were Earthmen! That was unmistakable. And they were holding a Nidorian, forcing him to go with them to the buildings near the edge of the great held. And Sindi knew that there was only one other Nidorian in the Mountains of the Morning.

	She acted almost without thinking. As rapidly and as silently as she could, she ran toward the cluster of buildings to which the Earthmen were guiding Rahn. They had taken him inside by the time she got there.

	She didn't know which room he was in; the entrance to the structure was on the other side, and she didn't know where the door was. All she could do was look for lighted windows.

	There were several on the ground floor, but they were occupied entirely by Earthmen. Finally, she found an outcropping of rock that would permit her to get close to the one lighted room on the second floor. The window was open, and the breeze of the chill evening air fluttered the papers on the desk in the room.

	There were four men in the room—three Earthmen and Rahn. And then Sindi got a shock even greater than the last. One of the Earthmen was Jones!

	Jones—who had gone to the Great Light, was here!

	He was saying: "I'm sorry you came here, Rahn peDorvis." He looked old and very tired. "It was never intended that any Nidorian should find this port." His jutting little beard waggled as he spoke, but his voice was as kindly as ever.

	Rahn didn't move, and when he spoke his voice was tight and strange. "You're dead, Jones. Am I dead, too?"

	Jones shook his head slowly. "I am not dead, my son. I never said I was going to die. I said I was going back to the sky. And I am. But when I go, I will be alive. As alive as I am now. As alive as you are."

-

	It seemed to Sindi as she stared in amazement that Jones was trying hard to convince the boy that his words were true and honest.

	Rahn's hands gripped the arm-rests of his chair. "But what does it all mean? I mean ... well, that sounds silly, but ... well—"

	Jones held up his hand, palm out. "I know how you feel, my son. And, believe me, I'll explain everything to you. You're capable of understanding it, partially, and I think you deserve a full explanation. Do you want some water?"

	Rahn had been licking his lips, but it was obviously fear and not thirst that motivated it. Still, he did not act as if he were overly afraid of the Earthmen. Sindi clenched her fists and prayed silently.

	"Yes, Jones. Please. Some water," Rahn said.

	One of the other men poured a glass of water while Jones went on talking.

	"I won't ask you how you came up here, nor why. That isn't important. What you want to know is why we are here and why we are doing whatever we are doing.

	"The answer is very simple. We have come, as we told you, to help Nidor. Look—let me show you something."

	He pressed a button on the desk near him. Behind him, a screen lit up. In full color, a dance going on became visible. A very odd-looking Earthman was dancing gracefully in miniature across the screen.

	"An Earthman?"

	"Earthwoman," Jones corrected.

	Yes, it was an Earthwoman! Her head hair was long and golden and reached nearly to her waist. It swirled around her as she danced.

	"This is an entertainment screen," Jones explained. "With this, we can see to any point within range. We can talk with each other and see each other."

	He pressed another button, and the Earth girl on the screen vanished.

	"As of now," Jones went on, "the average Nidorian must work very hard—many hours a day—to stay alive. We of Earth have machines that will relieve Nidor of this back-breaking work. We have machines that will cook food, plow the ground, build buildings, or solve complex mathematical formulas.

	"We are trying to give these things to Nidor," Jones said. "The Great Light has brought us to you to guide you onward. But it is not time yet. You must become acclimated—you'll have to get used to the idea of leisure and a better life. You'll have to understand what it means to go to the stars before you can go there."

	"Stars?" Rahn asked.

	"You'll find out about them, too," said Jones. "We intend to help you to go to space; to see the Great Light Himself, as we do—but we cannot help you there yet. You of Nidor have too much to learn yet, and it is up to us to teach you.

	"That's why we have to be careful. If you were given full knowledge now, your culture would come smashing down around your ears like a house of bricks built without mortar.

	"And we don't want to wreck your culture that way. We want you to be happy with these things, not miserable with them."

	Rahn nodded, although it was obvious that he did not completely understand. Jones was talking to him as though he were a child, and he didn't seem to quite comprehend what Jones .was saying.

	Jones signaled suddenly to the other three men in the room. As they grouped around Rahn, Jones said: "I am afraid we can't let you remember these things. We will have to blank out a part of your memory. We will have to remove all knowledge of this base. And believe me, Rahn, it is the best thing for Nidor."

	Rahn nodded. "If you say so, Jones. Will it hurt?"

	Jones smiled and shook his head. "Not at all. Tell me, now: how did you get up here?"

	Rahn told how he had ridden his deest high into the mountains and then had gone on on foot. He started to explain why he had done it, but cut that short.

	Jones beamed. "You call these mountains, but you haven't seen the really big mountains. The rain here, falling every night, keeps these mountains bare, and wears them low.

	"Rahn, my son, you may not believe this, but I have seen mountains seven and eight miles high. The Mountains of the Morning are less than half a mile at their highest peaks."

	Jones frowned then, and thought a moment. Finally, he said: "It's time now. We'll remove your memories of the past few hours now. The machine is in the next room."

-

	Sindi watched as Rahn, obviously reluctant, rose and nervously followed Jones and the other Earthmen into the room adjoining. Sindi craned her neck to see into the room, failed, and edged around the building, looking for a window that would give her a clear view into the inner room. There was none.

	What seemed like ages passed, as she waited for some sign from within. Then, without warning, the door of the building slid open and the Earthmen appeared, bearing the unconscious body of Rahn. Sindi shrank back against the wall, not wanting to be seen. She didn't know what it was the Earthmen had done to Rahn, but she was not at all in favor of having it done to herself as well.

	To her amazement, she saw the Earthmen begin to glow with the blue-white aura that she had seen when Jones had ascended to the Great Light, that day at the school. They rose into the air, carrying Rahn, and drifted down the cliff and out of sight.

	Sindi watched, astonished. All was silent, except for the constant hum and buzz of the spaceport generators.

	A few moments later, the Earthmen reappeared without Rahn. They floated gently up the side of the hill, entered their building, and the door closed behind them. Sindi edged out across the clearing and started the slow descent. As she lowered, herself over the edge, she caught sight of Rahn, sitting at the base of the cliff, his deest nuzzling nearby.

	So they had removed his memories. And, effectively, it was as if she had never seen the spaceport either. For who would back her story up? Not Rahn, with his memories removed. Any tales she brought back would be discounted as mere wild imaginings.

	But, more important, she had no desire to tell anyone about what she had seen of the Earthmen's secret activities. What was it they had said, that Nidor was not yet ready? She didn't want to do anything that would hurt the Earthmen's plans.

	They held out the promise of a bright future. They beckoned to Nidor, keeping in reserve for them the wonders they had shown to Rahn, Some day, these would belong to Nidor. If not to Sindi, then to her children. She would wait.

	Sindi saw it was her duty to say nothing. The Earthmen were agents of the Great Light, and the Great Light would lead them to the promised land in his own good time.

	In his own good time. It was promised. "Those beloved of the Great Light shall hold tomorrow in their hands." It was there, in the Eighteenth Section of the Scripture.

-

	Rahn was dazed and bewildered when Sindi found him at the base of the mountain. He looked up in amazement as she appeared.

	"What are you doing here?" he asked. Then he reconsidered. "On second thought," he said, "what am I doing here?"

	"What happened, Rahn?" she asked quietly.

	"I ... I don't know. I left my deest here. I intended to climb on up ... but—" He shook his head. "I don't know."

	"Silly," she said, smiling. "You fell. You hit your stupid head on a rock and it knocked the sense out of you."

	Rahn blinked and then grinned. "I suppose ... did you see me?"

	"No. But I've been following your tracks in the gravel and sand. I was going to climb, too, until I found out what happened to you."

	Rahn rubbed his head. "My head hurts, and I feel groggy. I'll never—" He was looking toward the east, and he saw the first glimmerings of the Great Light on the horizon. "The Light! How long have I been—"

	"You've been wandering around for hours," Sindi said, improvising as she went. "I've found your deest. Mine got away."

	Rahn put his hands to his temples. "Let's go. Let's go home. My head hurts."

	Sindi bit her lower lip and then nodded silently.

	Yes, she thought, it hurts. I'll bet it hurts.

-

	Grandfather Kiv peGanz Brajjyd paced back and forth in the outer office of Smith, the Earthman. Seated on a heavy chair in one corner of the room was the well-padded frame of old Grandfather Gils peKlin Hibylla, his hands folded comfortably across his paunch.

	"Calm yourself, Grandfather Kiv," he said. "The children are on their way back. The telegraphic message from Gwilis Village said that they passed that way only three hours ago."

	Kiv stopped pacing and clasped his hands anxiously together. "I know they're safe! I'm not worried about that. But what about the betrothal? It's gone haywire from both directions. What a scandal! What should I do, Grandfather?"

	The old man shrugged. "Why worry? Young Yorgen peBor has solved the problem for you. If he can get a member of his Clan ... ah ... in an ... ah ... interesting way and then talk old Yorgen peYorgen Yorgen into sanctioning their marriage, then you should have nothing to worry about."

	"Nothing to worry about?" Kiv exploded. "Why, this is terrible! My daughter runs off with a member of her own Clan, and then the man she's going to be betrothed to finds that he is forced to marry a member of his Clan. Forced! Grandfather, do you realize that twenty years ago they would both have been stoned to death? It's ... it's terrible!"

	"You're repeating yourself, my son," said Grandfather Gils quietly. "Remember, things change. Times are different today. Our society isn't what it was twenty years ago. We must remember that, you and I."

	Before Kiv could reply, the door to the inner office opened, and Smith, the Earthman, said: "You wanted to talk to me, Grandfather Kiv?"

	Kiv nodded. "Yes, Smith, if I might."

	"Please come in, then."

	Actually, Kiv did not want to talk to Smith; it was old Jones he wanted, actually needed. But Jones had gone to the Great Light, and he would have to depend on the younger man.

	When Smith closed the door behind him, Kiv said: "I understand that you will have to expel my daughter from the school. I know that is right, and I don't oppose it. But I want your advice on one thing. Should I permit her marriage to this Rahn peDorvis? He is, after all, a Brajjyd."

	He shuddered. All of his plans were destroyed now; Yorgen was lost to him, and he was faced with the possibility, no, the probability, of an outrageous match with the son of a penniless Edris-manufacturer.

-

	Smith seated himself behind the massive desk and ran the tips of his fingers over his beard.

	"Sit down, my son," he said softly. "You are an alumnus of Bel-rogas, right?"

	Kiv sat down slowly and nodded. "Yes, Smith, I am."

	Smith smiled quietly. "Then I fear you haven't taken your teachings to heart."

	"I haven't?" Kiv said, thoroughly taken aback.

	"I don't mean to criticize your knowledge, Kiv," the Earthman said. "But you've become too emotionally involved in this thing. It has clouded your thinking. How do you interpret the Law as regards in-clan marriage?"

	Kiv thought for a moment. "Well, there's nothing specific, but—"

	"Exactly," Smith said. "There is nothing specific. In-clan marriage is governed by custom. And what governs custom?"

	"The practices of our Ancestors," said Kiv.

	"Ah, yes. But who determines when custom should change?"

	"Our Elders," Kiv replied. He felt as though he were going through a catechism of some kind.

	"And who is Yorgen peYorgen Yorgen?"

	Kiv shook his head. "I see what you're driving at, Smith. But it won't wash. Elder Grandfather Yorgen permitted the marriage of young Yorgen peBor because he had been intimate with Lia gePrannt. It was the least unpleasant way of covering an unpleasant situation. But no such thing has happened in the case of my daughter and young Rahn peDorvis."

	Smith folded his hands on the desk and closed his eyes. "Can you be sure?" he asked. "And if you can, can the rest of society be sure? It's not what you may think that matters—it's what society thinks.

	"Is there, after all, any proof of Lia gePrannt's condition? Didn't the Elder Grandfather have to take that on faith?"

	Smith jabbed a forefinger at Kiv. "There is your precedent, Kiv. Faith. It doesn't matter which way it may go; you have certain decisions you must make.

	"Legally, your daughter may marry Rahn peDorvis, now that an Elder has sanctioned such marriages. Such marriages are now part of the accepted body of tradition. And isn't it your duty to your daughter to remove any stain from her name by announcing her betrothal?"

	Suddenly, Kiv felt terribly small, and very confused. He fought with himself for a moment. He tried to picture how the Elders had felt, that day when a younger Kiv dynamically showed them how to wipe out the hugl threat. They must have been as confused and as puzzled, Kiv thought, as he was now.

	He looked at Smith and abruptly his doubt disappeared. Jones was not, after all, indispensable; Kiv had expected Smith to be a mere child next to Jones, but he had turned out to be an Earthman in every sense of the word.

	"I see," Kiv said quietly. "I thank you for your advice, Smith. May I come again?"

	Smith nodded, smiling. "I'm at your service at any time," he said. "And we'll be expecting your daughter and her husband back here at Bel-rogas as soon as they're through getting to know each other. They're the kind of people we want here."

	Kiv nodded, not daring to think any more. He gave the Earthman his blessing and walked out of the door, managing to hold his head high.

-

	There was a rap at the other door.

	"Come in, Harry," called Smith.

	The geneticist walked in, grinning. "I heard that little speech. It's exactly what we wanted. I don't know how you anthropologists manage to juggle things so exactly. Now we'll get inbreeding; in both clans."

	Smith grinned. "Geneticists are the wrong kind of mathematicians, Harry. They know what they want, but they don't know how to get it. We do. That's our business, and that's why we're here."

	The other Earthman spread his hands. "I could resent that, but I won't. You're right. We all have our places in this mission." Then he looked serious for a moment.

	"Do you mind explaining something for me?"

	"What do you want to know?" Smith asked.

	"The Brajjyd girl. She saw what happened out at the spaceport. Jones arranged that, of course. And we had her spotted the moment she climbed up the cliff. But what happens if she tells? Won't it blow the top off the whole project, just when we're set to get rolling?"

	Smith shook his head. "She won't tell. We have her index figured too closely for any mistakes like that. She's perfectly content to sit quietly and wait for us to lead the Nidorians to the promised land Jones talked about. Besides, she knows no one will believe her if she describes our spaceport."

	He paused, then, and looked out at the silvery light of the Nidorian sky.

	"No, she won't tell anyone now," he said. "But she'll tell her children. And they're the ones who count."

The End