“It was cruelly cold, though. I entered the mouth of a newly dug-out Ancient corridor, for shelter; or did something call me? I had a flashbeam, and almost like a sleepwalker found myself bound deeper and deeper down those halls.
“You must understand, the wonderful work itself had not collapsed, save at the entrance, after millions of years of earthquake and landslide. Once we dug past that, we found a labyrinth akin to others. With our scanty manpower and equipment, we might take a lifetime to map the entire complex.
“Drawn by I knew not what, I went where men have not yet been. With a piece of chalkstone picked from the rubble, I marked my path; but that was well-nigh the last glimmer of ordinary human sense in me, as I drew kilometer by kilometer near to my finality.
“I found it in a room where light shone cool from a tall thing off whose simplicity my eyes glided; I could only see that it must be an artifact, and think that most of it must be not matter but energy. Before it lay this which I now wear on my head. I donned it and—
“—there are no words, no thoughts for what came—
“After three nights and days I ascended; and in me dwelt Caruith the Ancient.”
XVIII
A bony sketch of a man, Colonel Mattu Luuksson had returned Chunderban Desai’s greetings with a salute, declined refreshment, and sat on the edge of his lounger as if he didn’t want to submit his uniform to its self-adjusting embrace. Nevertheless the Companion of the Arena spoke courteously enough to the High Commissioner of Imperial Terra.
“—decision was reached yesterday. I appreciate your receiving me upon such short notice, busy as you must be.”
“I would be remiss in my duty, did I not make welcome the representative of an entire nation,” Desai answered. He passed smoke through his lungs before he added, “It does seem like, um, rather quick action, in a matter of this importance.”
“The order to which I have the honor to belong does not condone hesitancy,” Mattu declared. “Besides, you understand, sir, my mission is exploratory. Neither you nor we will care to make a commitment before we know the situation and each other more fully.”
Desai noticed he was tapping his cigarette holder on the edge of the ashtaker, and made himself stop. “We could have discussed this by vid,” he pointed out with a mildness he didn’t quite feel.
“No, sir, not very well. More is involved than words. An electronic image of you and your office and any number of your subordinates would tell us nothing about the total environment.”
“I see. Is that why you brought those several men along?”
“Yes. They will spend a few days wandering around the city, gathering experiences and impressions to report to our council, to help us estimate the desirability of more visits.”
Desai arched his brows. “Do you fear they may be corrupted?” The thought of fleshpots in Nova Roma struck him as weirdly funny; he choked back a laugh.
Mattu frowned—in anger or in concentration? How can I read so foreign a face? “I had best try to explain from the foundations, Commissioner,” he said, choosing each word. “Apparently you have the impression that I am here to protest the recent ransacking of our community, and to work out mutually satisfactory guarantees against similar incidents in future. That is only a minor part of it.
“Your office appears to feel the Orcan country is full of rebellious spirits, in spite of the fact that almost no Orcans joined McCormac’s forces. The suspicion is not unnatural. We dwell apart; our entire ethos is different from yours.”
From Terra’s sensate pragmatism, you mean, Desai thought. Or its decadence, do you imply? “As a keeper of law and order yourself,” he said, “I trust you sympathize with the occasional necessity of investigating every possibility, however remote.”
A Terran, in a position similar to Mattu’s, would generally have grinned. The colonel stayed humorless: “More contact should reduce distrust. But this would be insufficient reason to change long-standing customs and policies.
“The truth is, the Companions of the Arena and the society they serve are not as rigid, not as xenophobic, as popular belief elsewhere has it. Our isolation was never absolute; consider our trading caravans, or those young men who spend years outside, in work or in study. It is really only circumstance which has kept us on the fringe— and, no doubt, a certain amount of human inertia.