are proceeding to the Lumian camp to return the Lumian weapons, which the
Waskorians say they no longer have use for.”
A frown darkened Dornvald’s face. “They are heading toward Menassim with their
Lumian weapons? It is a trick! What madness could have possessed Yemblayen?”
“The Waskorians have entrusted the weapons to their escorts and bear no other
arms.”
Kleippur stared for a few seconds longer, then shook his head helplessly: “New
faith? . . . Renouncing war? Where did this come from? Do you know anything
more?”
“The Waskorians speak of a Divine One whom they call Enlightener, who was
brought down into their land by shining angels from the sky to preach the
Lifemaker’s commandments to the world,” the messenger answered. “He came with
disciples, some of them former Kroaxian cavalry troopers; others are from
Xerxeon, where all the villagers have been converted. Chief among the disciples
is a baptizer called the Renamer, who was previously Captain Horazzorgio of the
Kroaxian Royal Guard.”
Dornvald gasped. “Horazzorgio, a baptizer? What kind of miracleworker is this
Enlightener?”
“Indeed the Waskorians tell of wondrous miracles that accompanied the
Enlightener’s coming,” the messenger said. “Of fires that burned in the sky,
rocks that melted, streams that boiled, objects that levitated, and holy dragons
bearing shining angels from above.”
Dornvald’s eyes twinkled suddenly at the mention of dragons. “And what of our
forward scouts and observers?” he asked. “What have they had to say about all
these miracles and dragons?”
The messenger remained expressionless. “Nothing, sir. But many reports were
received of what sounds like the same Lumian flying vehicle being very active in
the areas where the miracles were supposed to have occurred, and at about the
same times.”
“I see,” Dornvald said. He stepped back from the balustrade and turned to catch
Kleippur’s eye. Kleippur was smiling, as were the others behind him. Then
Dornvald too started grinning.
And Thirg too smiled—at first faintly and disbelievingly, then broadly, and
finally he clapped Lofbayel heartily on the back and laughed out loud. Who the
Enlightener might have been, he had no idea … but he thought he knew well
whose the flying vehicle had been, and who the real miracle-worker was at the
back of the whole business.
Up in the Orion, Gerold Massey walked angrily out of an elevator in Globe II and
turned to follow the corridor leading to the day quarters used by Zambendorf’s
team. He had talked to a number of the mission’s scientists and other
professionals about the situation and had managed to galvanize some of them into
crackling, dynamic action sufficient to lodge a formal protest with Leaherney.
And that was it. The protest had been rebuffed amid a tangle of expertly
contrived obstructions, denials, technicalities, and bureaucratic obfuscations,
and a demand for unrestricted access to the Earth communications link politely
but firmly refused. Having thus done all they could, the protesters had
expressed their regrets to Massey—all in a very decent and civilized way,
naturally—and returned to their various interests and duties. Even more galling
was the thought that while he, Massey, was the professional psychologist,
everything had happened exactly as Zambendorf had predicted. “We both understand
what makes people tick, Gerry,” Zambendorf had said. “The difference is that I
accept it but you won’t.”
Massey reached the door of the suite, knocked, and waited while Thelma checked
on a viewer inside to see who it was before letting him in. “No good,” he told
her, tossing out his hands as he stamped inside. “Leaherney was expecting it. He
was all set up. Anyway, apart from Dave Crookes and Leon Keyhoe, Graham
Spearman, Webster, and a couple of others who do seem genuinely concerned, they
weren’t that interested. Nothing about all this affects anything that’s really
close to them.”
Thelma seemed unsurprised. “You had to give it a try though,” she said. “Forget
it for a minute and come take a look at this.” She led him into the suite and
sat in front of the screen she had been watching when he arrived.
Massey moved behind the chair to look over her shoulder. The screen looked down
on a procession of Taloids dressed in flowing white robes and wearing garlands