"Oh Universal Force of Truth,
That guards the homeland of our youth,
That bidd'st the mighty cosmos deep
Thine own appointed limits keep:
Oh hear us when we cry for Grace
For those at peril far in space...."
Brim followed no particular religion-by any stretch of the imagination-but he nonetheless found himself lifted on a cresting surge of emotion. He'd loved the hymn as a child who dreamed of the stars. Now that he'd found them, the words were still never far beneath his personal veneer.
Before him like some preposterous crystal plain, the lens-shaped floor was dotted here and there by figures of men and women who appeared to be diminished-somehow, humbled was a better word-by sheer, unmitigated magnitude. On further inspection, he discovered that the surface actually comprised three concentric circles. Spaced equally around the outer ring, three inlaid sets of Xantos symbols faced the center of the room and spelled "Destruction" in shining gold metal. The middle ring contained three sets of gold inlaid symbols for "Resurrection," also facing the center. And the unmarked inner ring served to frame a large, central cone of gleaming gold-colored metal studded with irregular patterns of what appeared to be a thousand or more multicolored gems. The symbol group for "Truth" was deeply engraved three times into a polished band of clear metal around its base.
Overhead, soaring high above the balcony, a monumental dome modeled the nighttime firmament over Atalanta with Hador blazing forth through a lenslike aperture that seemed to hover in the center of the sky surrounded by the word "Power," in Xantos letters. Brim frowned as he stared up into this artificial starscape. Something peculiar about it.... He snapped his fingers. Of course. The dome itself was unquestionably constructed of some translucent material, and whatever the Gradygroats were using to model Hador shone from considerable distance behind its surface! He smiled. Clever, that. A shimmering beam of focused brilliance plummeted straight from the "hovering" lens to shatter on the jeweled cone in the center of the floor; its light then mirrored back to the dome in a thousand separate reflections to form the stars. Brim nodded in admiration as he studied the cone.
Each of its seemingly scattered jewels had actually been placed with exquisite care! He wondered what sort of artificial flare the Gradygroats had placed behind the dome to shine like that one did.
Interestingly enough-at least to Brim-the tower itself was almost fourteen hundred irals high, but the inner dome above his bead extended no more than three hundred irals into it.
Rather disappointing, when he came to think about it. Idly, he wondered what the Gradygroats did with the remainder of the space-he certainly remembered seeing no windows in the tower, at least from the outside.
On the surrounding wall, scores of inset display-window tableaux depicted the long, varied history of The Order. Brim promised himself ample time to digest these-especially ones depicting the thirteen orbital forts and their mighty disruptors. Wouldn't Wellington love this, he thought as he continued his fascinated inspection of the commons room.
During the next metacycles, Brim availed himself of everything the monastery had to offer: its great circle of tableaux, the library with the rare collection of Primitives, the museum, the art gallery, and the gloriously wooded parks. Each was fascinating in its own way, and to his surprise, neither the Friars nor the Sisters he met attempted to proselytize him or, so far as he could see, any of the other visitors, although there were only himself and perhaps four or five families on a holiday. Wartime, he supposed, severely limited the tourist trade. At length, he deposited a generous-at least for a Carescrian-donation at one of the intricately carved alms boxes, then strode down the top staircase to the coach plaza. He had most of the long afternoon still before him. Warm breezes carried the voices of the choir from the monastery:
"Far-called, our starfleets melt away;
Dominions and our pow'r depart;
Lo, all our fame of yesterday
Without The Motto, leaves the heart—
From Truth the path of Power leads yet,
Lest we forget-lest we forget!..."
Leaning his elbows on the balustrade, he peered down at the roofs of the city again. An afternoon sea breeze was still surprisingly cool on his face, and the sky was now dotted by ranks of flat-bottomed, fair-weather clouds. He watched one of the big coaches glide into the alleyways, exchange passengers, then growl on its way again, disappearing at length among the giant trees. Once again, he gazed into the distance at Defiant, then at his timepiece. Impulsively, he vowed be would present himself at the sign-in desk no more man a millictick before he absolutely had to. Then, with a smite of determination on his face, he started down the staircase toward town....
By the time he reached the bottom, he was glad enough to enter the narrow streets and their protection from Hador's burning rays. The sky was only a slit now between the white stucco buildings that hovered protectively over him and the other pedestrians with whom he shared the shadowed byway. As in the Rocotzian Section-wherever that was from here!
-most of the buildings were decorated by jutting balconies, colorful coats of arms, and sinuous, bas-relief carvings depicting every subject the mind could conjure, plus a few that Brim's, at least, could not. Birds chirped everywhere, flying constantly in and out of holes in the walls that seemed to be specially provided for this particular use. Occasional rothcats sauntered into the streets to brush against his legs. Curious animals. And as always, his nose was alternately pleasured and repelled by the million and one odors that inhabited the dusty air.
He passed a great, heavyset man with a bulbous nose, red ears, and huge hands that delicately weeded a tiny garden where the afternoon sun managed to linger for a few extra metacycles. He found himself returning the Haelacian's polite palm-open greeting as if he'd been doing it all his life. Something comfortable about Atalanta-and the Atalantans. Farther down the street, a crew manhandled a long, red cable from an opening in the pavement. He was now into an area of shops, and the street had became crowded with people carrying gaily colored baskets of groceries. Odors from the stores and open stalls reminded him that he was both hungry and thirsty himself. Smiling, he had just chosen a promising, cool-looking tavern when a strident bellow abruptly split the air, rattling windows and scattering flocks of birds from their high shelters. He paused as the noise continued, assaulting his ears from all directions as it reverberated from the walls of the narrow street.
Somehow, it had an urgent timbre, What was it?...
A moment later, be was nearly bowled over by frightened-looking people as they rushed past him from the tavern. A thin, gray-haired woman with a cook's pointed hat and a forgotten towel thrown over her shoulder looked up as she pushed past. "Come on, Blue Cape," she screeched as she started down the street. "Haven't you heard the sirens before?"
Sirens! Brim's heart jumped-the battlecruisers had taken off early that morning. Clearly, their departure was all the Leaguers were waiting for. Forgetting his empty stomach, he joined the stream of people running headlong downhill, hoping against hope that they were heading toward a shelter and not simply fleeing blindly in panic.
A terrific barrage of disruptor fire suddenly flashed overhead, bathing the street in strobes of blinding green light. Pealing thunder blasted his eardrums and raised clouds of dust from the streets. Brim recalled the briefer's words, "Take shelter at the first warning."
Well, he was trying to do that-and so, it seemed, was everybody else on the street!
At one of the parks that dotted the city, he elbowed his way from the streaming river of people and stopped to scan the skies. He was just in time to see Defiant hurtle overhead in an almost vertical bank, scaffolding and construction equipment cascading into her wake as the big ship added her firepower to the defense of the city. He wondered who was at the controls. In spite of the danger around him, his heart leaped with both pride and sorrow, Universe, how he wished he were with her!