enduring force to shape the world than anything ever conceived previously.
“What’s he doing?” Price asked as the Taloid finished scratching a second row
below the marks that it had made on a large ice slab with its staff.
“Looks like he doesn’t carry a notebook,” Abaquaan replied. “I guess we must be
saying the right things.”
Price stared at the Taloid for a few seconds longer. “I’ll be back out in a
second,” he said, and disappeared into the open outer door of the flyer’s
airlock.
“I’m all through,” Clarissa’s voice informed them. “How’s it with Rin-Tin-Tin
out there?”
“We need a few more minutes,” Zambendorf said. He switched back to local to
address Abaquaan. “They shouldn’t blindly accept anything that others tell them
to believe. Facts are the only guide to what is true, and facts can’t be changed
by wishing them to be otherwise.”
The Enlightener wrote finally:
3. BEWARE THE TONGUES OF DECEIVERS. LET THY WORDS BE KEEN HEEDERS OF TRUTH, FOR
TRUTH IS NO HEEDER OF WORDS.
It went on until the Taloid had written several more rows, and then Price
reappeared carrying a video camera-copier and a light-duty general-purpose
plasma torch from the flyer’s tool locker. “What are you doing?” Zambendorf
asked.
“Saving him the trouble of having to come all the way back up here if he forgets
any of it,” Price replied. “Also I’m collecting samples of Taloid handscript.”
He used the camera to transmit several shots of the slab into the flyer’s
computer storage system, and then, satisfied that a record of the original
script had been preserved, carefully traced over the markings with the torch to
melt a deeper, clearer impression into the ice. After taking several shots of
this too, he directed one of them to the recorder’s local hardcopier, and a few
seconds later a sheet of Titan-duty plastic was ejected into his gauntlet and
quickly rigidified in the low-temperature surroundings.
“You know, Vernon, sometimes I get the impression you’re too sentimental,”
Abaquaan remarked.
“Maybe,” Price agreed cheerfully. He looked around, picked up one of the smaller
ice flakes that lay all over the summit, and used the torch in fan-mode to melt
its top surface all over. Then he pressed the plastic down onto it and waited a
few seconds for the flake to refreeze, welding the ice and the plastic
inseparably together. Finally, as an afterthought he melted some extra slivers
of ice and allowed the water to flow over the face of the tablet, sealing the
plastic beneath a thin protective layer of glasslike ice. The result was quite
pleasing. He held it out toward the Taloid. “Here you are, Moses, old
buddy—something for you to hang on the wall when you get home.”
“We’d better wrap this up,” Abaquaan said. “Time’s getting on.”
“Otto’s right,” Zambendorf agreed. “Happy now, Vernon?”
“I guess so. It just seemed … oh, like a nice thing to do.”
The Enligbtener gazed down in wonder at the holy Tablet lying in his arms, still
glowing faintly—the Lifemaker’s commandments entrusted to him, the Enlightener,
as the Lifemaker’s messenger chosen to carry the sacred Word to the robeing
race. There was nothing he could say. The emotions surging within him were too
violent and confusing for him to be able even to think coherently.
“Farewell, Enlightener,” the frond said. “Our work awaits. Do not remain here
now. Good fortune to thee.” The Enlightener looked up and saw the frond-bearing
angel turn away and return into the shining creature. Then the second angel—the
one that had caused the living plant to bring forth the Tablet written in fire
and sealed inside the solid rock—followed. Finally the angel that had appeared
first of all backed slowly to the glowing opening, raised an arm in salutation,
and was swallowed up by the light. Moments later the opening closed, and the
cone of radiance that the shining creature had been emitting from a point just
above vanished suddenly.
“Take thee hence from this place, Enlightener,” the creature roared, “or thou
wilt surely be burned.” As if in a trance, clutching the Tablet securely under
one arm and taking his staff in the other, the Enlightener retreated from the