Hunt stared at her for a long time. A lot of things were making more sense now. If that was really the problem, then perhaps the Ganymean cure of several years’ planetary cold turkey would turn out to be the answer after all. The secondary problems would just have to be dealt with by conventional, time-tried methods, as some members of the Thurien-Terran Joint Policy Council seemed to have been saying. It would also explain why whoever was profiting in the meantime would want to keep the administration off the trail for as long as possible.
What did not make sense was why Nixie should want to rock the boat if business was so good.
“I don’t understand why you’re telling me this,” Hunt said.
“That isn’t what I followed you for,” Nixie answered. “When we were with Murray, the other thing you asked about was the ayatollahs.’’
“He didn’t seem to know much about them.”
“He doesn’t. He’s not a Jevlenese. But I do.”
Hunt hesitated, checking mentally for something he might have missed. “Is there a lot more to explain about them?” he said. “It sounds as if they’re just extreme cases of this—this fantasy—addiction that you just described. Ones that have pulled their anchors up from reality completely.”
Nixie shook her head. “No. That can happen to the headworld
junkies, yes. But the ayatollahs are not the same. Their situation is something else.”
Hunt nodded and raised his eyebrows. So Garuth had been right in his classifications. “There is something definitely very different about them, then?” he asked. “Something that sets them apart?”
“Oh, yes.”
“You can be sure? They’re not simply suffering from delusions? Or some kind of breakdown, possibly, induced by stresses encountered in these fantasy realities?”
“The ayatollahs aren’t products of any fantasies,” Nixie said, speaking somberly. “They aren’t junkies at all.”
“Then what makes them crazy?”
“Crazy?” Nixie stared at him strangely. “They’re bewildered~” she replied. “And very often scared, confused, lost, and hysterical. If a lot of them act demented, it’s because of things like that. And yes, maybe some of them do lose their orientation completely. But it’s not from getting too involved with some fairyland. They come from somewhere that’s real. But it’s somewhere very strange-at least, it would be strange to anyone who’s used to this. . .“ She gestured around her vaguely.
“You mean Jevlen?” Hunt said.
“And Earth, too. Everywhere. The whole universe.”
Hunt’s brow knitted. “I’m not sure what you’re saying. Where do they come from?”
“They don’t know. That’s what screws them up—or at least, it screws a lot of them up. But some manage to handle it and keep their act together. They’re not all crazy.” Nixie lifted her glass again and gave Hunt a long, appraising look over the rim. “At least, I hope you think they’re not all crazy. You see, you’re the first scientist I’ve met here. And you’re sane. The reason I followed you was that you look like someone who might be able to find the answers.”
“Is it really that important to—” Hunt began, and his eyes widened as he realized what she was saying.
Nixie nodded, reading his expression. “Yes,” she said. “That’s right, Vie. To me, it’s very important. You see, I’m one of them.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
In the night, everything lay hidden beneath the blackness of a sky deserted by the gods. Even Pamur, the god whose lantern was the sun, was turning away, reducing Waroth’s days to twilight gloom, Snow blanketed the mountains and choked the passes. Herders and hill people were moving into the valleys as cold crept down across the land.
High in the midst of the Rinjussin wilderness, the Master, Shingen-Hu, and a select group of adepts from his school ascended a rocky peak for the ceremony of reconsecrating the Altar of Arising, from whence those who arose with the currents departed from the world. The currents had been running very weak of late, and they were too high to be drawn down. The purpose of the rite was to get Nieru’s blessing for better conditions.
The chanting and incantations were of particular significance to Thrax, for Shingen-Hu had chosen him as the next to ascend, when the signs and the currents became favorable. In his devotions he had already, on several occasions, captured the wisps of current that sometimes came low, bringing images into his mind. He recalled the images now, as he stood clad in heavy robes and a cowled cloak upon the peak, gazing at the scattering of remnant stars flickering wanly above, as if beckoning, somehow . . . Images that he had seen of Hyperia.