what use would be better fitting than discovering reliable methods of acquiring
knowledge?”
“Know ye of the things that the wise shall not seek after, and the mysteries
that the holy shall not question,” Groork recited shrilly. “There are some
things that we were not meant to know, Thirg.”
“Oh, and how do you know?”
“It is written in the Scribings.”
“Who wrote them, and how did they know?”
“Those who were inspired to know. Truth cannot be found by following false
paths. All of the true knowledge that was meant to be divulged is divulged in
the Scribings.”
“And who says that?” Thirg challenged. “The Scribings. Again we see an argument
that leads itself into a circle.”
Groork looked away despairingly and his eyes came to rest on an orb covered with
unfamiliar markings and notations, standing at one end of Thirg’s worktable.
“Thou art bewitched by circles,” he said. “The same madness that has damned
Lofbayel is afflicting thee. I have heard of the insanity that deranges his mind
with belief the world is round.”
“I have studied his evidence closely, and it is persuasive,” Thirg replied.
“Since his trial before the Council, he has entrusted his charts and his records
to me for safekeeping.” He gestured toward a large map hanging on the wall above
the worktable—a map unlike any that Groork had seen before. “Behold, the world
upon which you walk. Much remains to be filled in, as you can see, but Lofbayel
has convinced me that in its main features it is reasonably accurate. See how
tiny the whole of Kroaxia is upon it.”
“It has straight edges,” Groork objected after staring in mute protest for a
while. “It is taught that the world is as a platter, bounded by the unscalable
Peripheral Barrier of mountains that support the sky. You talk of rules of
reason, but no fool in his wildest ravings would conceive of reason such as
this.”
“The edges of the sheet upon which the map is drawn can no more influence what
the map represents than the edge of a portrait can cause its subject to be
beheaded,” Thirg pointed out.
“And so the world is beheaded on all four sides,” Groork replied. “The Barrier
does not appear anywhere. Thus this map cannot represent the entire world. Your
words are belied.”
“In all his searchings Lofbayel was unable to find a single authenticated
account of anyone ever finding the Barrier,” Thirg said. “High mountains, yes;
immense chains whose very passes are higher than the highest peaks in all
Kroaxia, yes; mountains whose summits are sometimes lost from sight in vapors no
more substantial than the mists that rise from the stream outside at early
bright, yes. But mountains upon which there rests a solid roof of sky? Never.
Always there is another side beyond the mountains, and always another shore
beyond the ocean.”
“Now you would presume to dictate limits to the Lifemaker again,” Groork
accused. “This time you tell him how large He is permitted to make His world.
The distance to the Barrier is not written. It is unknown and therefore
unknowable.”
“Another reason for its being unwritten and unknown might be that it doesn’t
exist,” Thirg commented.
“It is written that it exists!”
“How could it be written about if no one’s ever seen it?”
“How could it not exist? The world must be bounded.”
“Because your imagination is bounded and unable to conceive of any alternative?”
Thirg asked. “Now who is imposing his limits upon the Lifemaker? But this map
covers the whole world, and no Barrier appears on it. Where, then, is the
Barrier if it exists?”
“The map cannot cover the whole world,” Groork answered.
“But it leaves no direction open for any more of the world to exist in.” Thirg
picked up the sphere and showed it. “There is the world, Groork! For just one
minute forget your dusty texts, written long ago by clerks in their dungeons,
who never saw an ocean, let alone crossed one, and who never looked beyond any
mountain. This form, and only this form, is consistent with all the facts that
have been recorded; no form of platter can be contrived of which the same can be