“Good eating, Edard Hoyland.”
“I’ve brought you a present, Witness,” said Hugh, when his uncle had passed out of hearing.
“Let me see it.”
Hugh produced a package of tobacco which he had picked up from his locker at the barracks. The Witness accepted it without acknowledgment, then tossed it to his apprentice, who took charge of it.
“Come inside,” invited the Witness, then directed his speech to his apprentice. “Here, you, fetch the cadet a chair.”
“Now, lad,” he added as they sat themselves down, “tell me what you have been doing with yourself.”
Hugh told him, and was required to repeat In detail all the incidents of his more recent explorations, the Witness complaining the meanwhile over his inability to remember exactly everything he saw.
“You youngsters have no capacity,” he pronounced. “No capacity. Even that lout–” he jerked his head toward the apprentice, “he has none, though he’s a dozen times better than you. Would you believe it, he can’t soak up a thousand lines a day, yet he expects to sit in my seat when I am gone. Why, when I was apprenticed, I used to sing myself to sleep on a mere thousand lines. Leaky vessels — that’s what you are.”
Hugh did not dispute the charge, but waited for the old man to go on, which he did in his own time.
“You had a question to put to me, lad?”
“In a way, Witness.”
“Well? Out with it. Don’t chew your tongue.”
“Did you ever climb all the way up to no-weight?”
“Me? Of course not. I was a Witness, learning my calling. I had the lines of all the Witnesses before me to learn, and no time for boyish amusements.”
“I had hoped you could tell me what I would find there.”
“Well, now, that’s another matter. I’ve never climbed, but I hold the memories of more climbers than you will ever see. I’m an old man. I knew your father’s father, and his grandsire before that. What is it you want to know?”
“Well…” What was it be wanted to know? How could he ask a question that was no more than a gnawing ache in his breast? Still… “What is it all for, Witness? Why are there all those levels above us?”
“Eh? How’s that? Jordan’s name, son, I’m a Witness, not a scientist.”
“Well … I thought you must know. I’m sorry.”
“But I do know. What you want is the Lines from the Beginning.”
“I’ve heard them.”
“Hear them again. All your answers are in there, if you’ve the wisdom to see them. Attend me. No, this is a chance for my apprentice to show off his learning. Here, you! The Lines from the Beginning — and mind your rhythm.”
The apprentice wet his lips with his tongue and began:
“In the Beginning there was Jordan, thinking His lonely thoughts alone. In the Beginning there was darkness, formless, dead, and Man unknown. Out of the loneness came a longing, out of the longing came a vision, Out of the dream there came a planning, out of the plan there came decision: Jordan’s hand was lifted and the Ship was born.
Mile after mile of snug compartments, tank by tank for the golden corn, Ladder and passage, door and locker, fit for the needs of the yet unborn. He looked on His work and found it pleasing, meet for a race that was yet to be. He thought of Man; Man came into being; checked his thought and searched for the key. Man untamed would shame his Maker, Man unruled would spoil the Plan; So Jordan made the Regulations, orders to each single man, Each to a task and each to a station, serving a purpose beyond their ken, Some to speak and some to listen; order came to the ranks of men. Crew He created to work at their stations, scientists to guide the Plan. Over them all He created the Captain, made him judge of the race of Man. Thus it was in the Golden Age!
Jordan is perfect, all below him lack perfection in their deeds. Envy, Greed, and Pride of Spirit sought for minds to lodge their seeds. One there was who gave them lodging: accursed Huff, the first to sin! His evil counsel stirred rebellion, planted doubt where it had not been; Blood of martyrs stained the floor plates, Jordan’s Captain made the Trip. Darkness swallowed up–“