"May the blind things at the bottom of the great sea, whose bellies are circles of light," he said, "recall with pleasure the flavor of your marrow."
I blew a smoke ring. "... And if I should proceed as I began, on my own," I said, "and be slain myself in the coming encounter, do you think that you will escape from harm? Did you not look into the mind of Mike Shandon as you fought him? Did you not say that you hurt him? Do you not know that he is a man who will not forget such a thing? He is not so subtle as a Pei'an. He does not consider it necessary to proceed with finesse. He will simply turn and seek you, and when he finds you he will cut you down. So whether I win or lose, your end will be disgrace or death."
"If I elect to accompany you and assist you, what then?" he asked.
"I will forget the vengeance which you sought upon me," I said. "I will show you that there was no _pai'badra_, no instrument of affront, so that you may take leave of this vengeance with honor. I will not seek recompense, and we may go our ways thereafter, each freed of the hooks of the other."
"No," he said. "There was _pai'badra_ in your elevation to a Name. I do not accept what you propose."
I shrugged. "Very well," I said, "then how does this sound? Since your feelings and intentions are known to me, it would be useless for either of us to plot vengeance along classical lines. That fine, final moment, where the enemy realizes the instrument, the mover and the _pai'badra_ and knows then that his entire life has been but a preface to this irony--that moment would be diminished, if not destroyed.
"So let me offer you satisfaction rather than forgiveness," I went on. "Assist me, and I will give you a fair opportunity to destroy me afterwards. I, of course, will require an equal chance to destroy you. What do you say to that?"
"What means did you have in mind?"
"None, at the moment. Anything that is mutually agreeable will do."
"What assurance may I have of this?"
"I swear it by the Name that I bear."
He turned away and was silent for a time, then, "I agree to your terms," he said. "I will accompany you and assist you."
"Then let us move back to my campsite and become more comfortable," I said. "There are things you have hinted at which I must know more fully."
I turned my back upon him then and walked away. I knocked down the tent and spread the ffimsy then for us to sit upon. I rekindled the campfire.
The ground shook very slightly before we seated ourselves upon.it.
"Did you do that?" I asked him, gesturing toward the northwest.
"Partly," he replied.
"Why? Trying to frighten me?"
"Not you."
"And Shandon wasn't scared either?"
"Far from it."
"Supposing you tell me precisely what has happened."
"First, concerning our agreement," he said, "a counterproposal has just occurred to me--one in which you will be interested."
"What is it?"
"You are going there to rescue your friends." He gestured. "Supposing it were possible to recover them without peril? Supposing Mike Shandon could be avoided completely? Would you not prefer to do it that way? --Or do you require his blood immediately?"
I sat there and thought about it. If I let him live, he would come after me again sooner or later. On the other hand, if I could get what I wanted now without having to face him, I could find a thousand safe ways of taking him out of the game, afterwards. Still, I'd come to Illyria ready to face a deadly man. What difference did it make if the names and faces were changed? Still .
"Let's hear your proposal."
"The people you seek," he said, "are there only because I recalled them. You know how I did it. I used the tapes. These tapes are intact, and only I know where they are located. I told you how I obtained them. That which I did before I can do now. I can transport the tapes here immediately, if you so bid me. Then we can depart this place, and you can recall your people as you would. Once we are aloft in your vessel, I can show you where to burn or bomb to destroy Mike Shandon without danger to ourselves. Is this not simpler and safer? We can settle our own differences later, by agreement."
"There are two holes in it," I said. "One, there will be no tape for Ruth Laris. Two, I would be abandoning the others. Whether I can recall them again is unimportant, if I leave them behind me now."
"The analogues you recall will have no memory of this."
"That is not the point. They exist right now. They're as real as you or I. It does not matter that they can be duplicated. --They're on the Isle of the Dead, aren't they?"
"Yes."
"Then if I were to destroy it to get Shandon, I'd get everybody, wouldn't I?"
"That would necessarily follow. But--"
"I veto your proposal."
"That is your privilege."
"Have you any other suggestions?"
"No."
"Good. Now that you've exhausted everything you have to change the subject, tell me what happened between you and Shandon back there."
"He bears a Name."
"What?"
"The shadow of Belion stands behind him."
"That's impossible. It doesn't work that way. He's no worldscaper--"
"Bide a moment, Frank, for I know it requires explanation. Apparently there are some things _Dra_ Marling never saw fit to tell you. He was a revisionist, however, so it is understandable.
"You know," he continued, "that being a Name-bearer is not essential for the design and construction of worlds--"
"Of course it is. It is a necessary psychological device to release unconscious potentials which are required to perform certain phases of the work. One has to be able to feel like a god to act like one."
"Then why can I do the work?"
"I never heard of you before you became my enemy. I've never seen any of your work, save that which stands about me here, grafted onto my own. If it is representative, then I would say that you can't do the work. You're a lousy craftsman."
"As you would have it," he said. "Nevertheless, it is obvious that I can manipulate the necessary processes."
"Anybody can learn to do that. You were tallthig about creative design, of which I see no indication on your part."
"I was talking about the pantheon of Strantri. It existed before there were worldscapers, you know."
"I know. What of it?"
"Revisionists, like _Dra_ Marling and his predecessors, used the old religion in their trade. They did not take it for its own sake, but, as you say, as a psychological device. Your confirmation as the Shrugger of Thunders was merely a means of coordinating your subconscious. To a fundamentalist, this is blasphemous."
"You are a fundamentalist?"
"Yes."
"Then why did you apprentice yourself to what you consider a sinful trade?"
"In order to be confirmed with a Name."
"I'm afraid you've lost me."
"It was the Name that I wanted, not the trade. My reasons were religious, not economic."
"But if it is only a psychological device--"
"That is the point! It is not. It is an authentic ceremony, and its results--personal contact with the god-- are genuine. It is the ordination rite for the high priests of Strantri."
"Then why didn't you take holy orders, rather than world engineering?"
"Because only a Name may administer the rite, and the twenty-seven Names who live are all revisionists. They would not administer the rite for the old reasons."
"Twenty-six," I said.
"Twenty-six?"
"_Dra_ Marling is under the mountain, and Lorimel of the Many Hands dwells in the happy nothing."
He lowered his head and was silent for a time. Then, "One less," he said. "I can remember when there were forty-three."
"It is sad."