Someone nudged him forward and he found himself standing in front of the Guardian of the Way.
“Repeat after me,” Philar said solemnly, “’I swear that I will bend all effort to the Challenge of Survival, not only for myself but in behalf of every individual in the Lower Level.”
Struggling through the vow, Jared interrupted his flow of words with a sniffle.
“’I dedicate myself,’” the Guardian went on, “’to the needs of all who depend upon me and I will do whatever I can to draw aside the Curtain of Darkness — so help me Light!’”
Jared punctuated the final word with a sneeze.
Investiture over, he remained in front of the Official Grotto receiving perfunctory handshakes.
Romel was the last to approach. “Now the fun begins,” he said facetiously. The words were not as relaxed as they might have been, though, and they offered no clue as to what expression was silenced by the obscuring veil of hair.
“I’ll need a lot of help,” Jared admitted. “It won’t be easy.”
“I didn’t think it would.” Romel wasn’t successfully concealing his envy. “Of course, the first thing will be to finish the hearing.”
Interrupted by Investiture, the hearing wasn’t Jared’s concern, however. It was being conducted by the Elders, who were even now ffling back into the Official Grotto. And there was no doubt that its mention had been subtly intended to lead to something else. For a moment Jared could almost hear the familiar hiss of the swish-rope.
“Do you suppose,” Romel continued, unnecessarily loud, “that the monster that got the Prime Survivor was anything like the one you heard in the Original World?”
There it was — the tightening of the coils around his ankles. Romel wasn’t going to let anyone forget Jared had violated the Barrier taboo. Slack was being taken on the rope. The violent tug would come later.
“I wouldn’t know,” he rapped out, following the last of the witnesses into the Official Grotto.
A portable caster had been set in operation and Jared, taking his place at the meeting slab, concentrated on its clicks as modified by the persons in the recess. All the Elders were in their places while the witnesses were grouped off to one side.
“I believe we were listening to Survivor Metcalf,” Elder Averyman said. “He was telling us what he heard.”
A lean, nervous man came forward and stood beside the slab. Quite audibly, his fingers enmeshed, squirmed against one another, freed themselves and locked again.
“I couldn’t catch its sound too clearly,” he apologized. “I was just coming from the orchard when I heard you and the Prime Survivor shouting. I picked my impression of the thing off the echoes from your voices.”
“And what did it sound like?”
“I don’t know. Something about the size of a man, I suppose.”
It was disconcerting the way the witness kept moving his head from side to side. He was a fuzzy-face and the rippling motion of the hair streaming down in front reminded Jared of the fluttering flesh of the Original World monster.
“Did you hear its face?” Averyman asked.
“No. I was too far away.”
“What about an — uncanny sound?”
“I don’t recall anything like a silent sound, like some of the others heard.”
Metcalf was a fuzzy-face. So was Averyman, as were two others who had testified. And not one of those four had gotten psychic impressions of a roaring silence, Jared remembered. Even in the Upper Level none of the fuzzy-faces had heard the incredible, inaudible noise made by the monsters.
Jared cleared his throat, and swallowed painfully, coughed several times and gripped his neck. He’d never felt like this before.
Averyman dismissed the witness and called another.
By now, the two periods of hearings had become tedious. After all, there were really only two categories of witnesses — those who had heard the supernatural sound and those who hadn’t.
More important, as far as Jared was concerned, was the personal matter of his growing uncertainty. He wasn’t so sure now that the monsters were a punishment for his defiance of the Barrier. That the horrible menace had not ended with his sincere atonement could mean only one of two things: Light would accept no degree of repentance, or his visit to the Original World had not, after all, aggravated the monsters.
Then he drew attentively erect as a third possibility suggested itself: Suppose he was right about Light and Darkness being physical things. Suppose, in his search for the two, he had almost uncovered a significant truth. And suppose the monsters, assuming that they were opposed to his success, were aware of how close he had come. Wouldn’t they do everything possible to discourage him?”
A violent sneeze snapped his head back and elicited a reproving silence from Averyman, who had been in the middle of a question.
The new witness was a young boy whose excited account left no doubt that he had heard the impossible sounds.
“And how would you describe these — sensations?” Elder Averyman completed the question.
“It was like a lot of crazy shouts that kept bouncing against my face. And when I put my hands over my ears I kept on hearing them.”
The child’s head had been turned toward Averyman and Jared couldn’t hear the details of his face. But suddenly it seemed vitally important that he should know the boy’s characteristic expression. So he went around the slab, seized his shoulders and held him with his features fully exposed to the portable caster.
It was as he had expected — the child’s eyes were wide open.
“You have something you’d like to say?” Averyman asked, not quite concealing his resentment over the interruption.
“No — nothing.” Jared returned to his place.
The boy was an open-eyed type. Jared, himself, was openeyed. Three other witnesses had fallen into the same category. And all of them had felt the strange sensations!
Was it as he had guessed once before — that the silent sound might in some way be connected with the eyes, provided they were exposed? And now he recalled how strangely his own eyes had reacted during Excitation of the Optic Nerve Ceremony. The weird rings of noise had clearly seemed to be dancing beneath his lids, hadn’t they?
But what significance could be drawn from all this? If the eyes were intended only for feeling Light, then why was it they could also sense the evil of the monsters? He was both excited and confused by the flood of inspirational questions. And he was annoyed that the same inspiration would produce none of the answers.
Since the eyes seemed to be the common element between Divinity and Devil, he asked himself queasily, could Light be in some sort of evil conspiracy with the monsters?
There! He had entertained the sacrilegious thought! And he braced himself for the wrath of the Almighty.
But, instead, there came only a direct question from Elder Averyman: “Well, Jared — rather, Your Survivorship — you’ve heard these various descriptions. How do they compare with your impressions of that monster in the Original World?”
He decided to play it a bit shrewder. “I’m not so sure I heard a monster. You know how your imagination can run away with you.” There was no sense in calling attention to his experience with the creature. Nor did he hear where he would gain anything by telling them about the beings that had invaded the Upper Level.
“Eh? What?” Elder Haverty inquired. “You mean you didn’t hear a monster in the Original World? You did go there, didn’t you?”
Jared tried to clear his throat, but the painful roughness persisted. “Yes, I went there.”
“And a lot has happened since then,” Survivor Maxwell reminded. “We’ve lost some hot springs. A monster has carried off the Prime Survivor. Do you suppose you’re to blame for those misfortunes?”