— You mean that you could take me there? That I could walk those worlds?
— With me, you could walk those worlds. Perhaps understand them, although I'm not sure of that. But you could see them clearly, lay your hands on them.
— And the Heaven world?
— You have not seen the Heaven world.
— No, I've not, said Tennyson.
— Well, then?
— You mean go to one of the worlds and then come back?
— Yes, of course come back. You never go to a place from which you can't return.
— You would take me over -
— No, not take you over. The two of us together.
Impossible, Tennyson told himself. It could not be done. Either he was dreaming again or he faced the sleekest con…
— It's possible, said Whisperer. It can be done. It is not a con. You have pondered on the equation world. You have dreamed of it. It will not let you be.
— I could never get a good look at it, said Tennyson. It was always hidden. I knew there was much there that I wasn't seeing.
— Then go with me and see it.
— And understand?
— No, I'm not sure we'll understand. But, together, better than one of us alone.
— You tempt me, Whisperer. Should I take a chance on you?
— No chance, my friend. May I call you friend?
— Not a friend, Whisperer. A partner. Partners also must have trust and faith. And if you fail…
— If I fail?
— Decker would hear of it. You'd lose your only friend.
— The threat is unworthy of you, partner.
— Perhaps it is.
— But you let it stand?
— I let it stand, said Tennyson.
— So let you and I go together to the equation world.
— We'll have to view the cube.
— No need of it. It is fixed within your mind.
— Yes, said Tennyson, but imperfectly. I do not see it all. Some of it is missing.
— It is all there. It needs the digging out. You and I, together, as one person; we can dig it out.
— This togetherness, said Tennyson, is beginning to wear thin on me.
— Think of it as oneness, then. Not two of us, but one. Now think deeply of the equation world. Remember it as best you can. We'll essay to enter it.
Thirty-three
Enoch Cardinal Theodosius walked into the library and clambered on his stool, looking more like a well-dressed scarecrow than he did a cardinal.
'I hope, he said to Jill, 'that you don't mind these visits from a clanking old robot who does not have enough to do to occupy his time.
'Eminence, I love your visits, said Jill. 'I look forward to them.
'It is strange, said the cardinal, pulling up his feet to place them on the lower rungs of the stool, shucking up his robe about his middle and crouching forward, hands clasped around himself as if he might have a bellyache. 'It is strange that such as we should find so much to talk about. I think that our conversations have good substance to them. Do you not agree?
'Yes, Your Eminence, I do.
'I have gained great respect for you, he said. 'You work hard and enthusiastically. You have a mousetrap mind. There's not much escapes you. Your assistants make good reports of you.
'You mean that my assistants are spies who make reports to you?
He flapped a hand in distress. 'You know that's not my meaning. I have occasion at times to talk with them and your name is mentioned. You have impressed them very much. You think like a robot, so they tell me.
'Oh, I hope that's not the truth.
'What's so bad, milady, about robotic thinking?
'Nothing, I suppose. But robotic thinking is wrong for me. I should be thinking human.
'Humans are strange folk, said the cardinal. 'That is a conclusion I have reached through long years of watching them. You may not be aware of it, but robots are obsessed by humans. They are one of our favorite conversational subjects; we spend long hours in talking of them. I suppose it is possible for a human and a robot to establish strong relationships. There are myths that describe such closenesses. I have never had such a relationship and I feel, somehow, that for the lack of it, I've suffered. I must be frank and say that in my visits here I have detected the beginning of such a relationship to you. I hope you do not mind.
'Why, of course not. I am honored.
'Up until this time, said the cardinal, 'I've had but small contact with humans. Ecuyer is the only man with whom I've had contact for any length of time.
'Paul Ecuyer is a good man, said Jill.
'Good. Yes, I suppose he's good. A bit stiff-necked, however. He lives for his Listeners.
'That's his job, said Jill. 'He does it well.
'That is true, but there are times when he tends to forget for whom he's doing it. He gets too wrapped up in it. He assumes more than a normal amount of responsibility. His project is a Vatican project. There are times when he acts as if it's his and his alone.
'Your Eminence, what is this all about? Is your nose all out of joint over the Heaven incident?
The cardinal lifted his head and stared at her. He grumbled at her. 'Miss, sometimes you are too smart for your own good.
'Never that, she said. 'Stupid sometimes when I am trying to be smart.
'I am concerned, he said, 'over this saint business. I'm not sure we need a saint. A saint might cause us more trouble than it would be worth. What are your thoughts on it?
'I haven't really thought of it. I have heard some talk. That's all.
'Ecuyer is slow in turning over the cube of the Listener Mary's second trip to Heaven. I have a feeling he'd just as soon not turn it over to us. I don't know what happened. I'm not sure anyone knows. There have been some ugly rumors.
'Probably none of them true.
'Yes, that's more than likely. Often rumors have little truth in them. But why hasn't Ecuyer given us the cube?
'Probably he's been busy. He is a busy man. Does he always turn the cubes over to Vatican immediately?
'No, I guess he doesn't. He gives them to us when he gets around to it.
'There, that's it, said Jill. 'He simply hasn't gotten around to it.
'I don't know, said the cardinal. 'Ecuyer is a close friend of Tennyson and Tennyson knows Decker.
'Your Eminence, you sound as if the three of them were closing in on you. What have Tennyson and Decker got to do with it? You have nothing to fear from either of them. Ecuyer and Tennyson are Vatican men. Decker never interferes in anything at all.
'You could help me with this.
'I'm not sure I could, she said. 'What makes you think that I could help you out?
'You must know about it. You sleep with Tennyson.
'Shame on you, Your Eminence, she said. 'I never knew that robots paid attention to such things.
'Oh, we don't, said the cardinal. 'Not in the way you mean. But Tennyson must have talked with you about it.
'It's not Mary being made a saint, she told him, 'that is bothering you. It's Heaven, isn't it? If it worries you so much, why don't you go and find out what it is?
'We have no coordinates. We don't know where to look.
'I think you are afraid, she said. 'Your Eminence, even if you had the coordinates, I think you'd be afraid to go. You are afraid of what you'd find.
'My fear is not that, he told her. 'My fear is of something greater. It is the present state of Vatican. For many centuries this place ran smoothly. There have been ups and downs, there have been differences of opinion, but never for a moment, until now, have I ever doubted that this institution would stand, solid as the rock in which it's rooted. But now there's an undercurrent of- what shall I call it? — perhaps an undercurrent of rebellion that would not hesitate to strike at our structure and the underlying principles on which it is founded. From where it comes I do not know, but I do know that there must be somewhere a very active mischief maker who is bringing it about, who is triggering it and fueling it to keep it going. For a long time, I have been aware that there was someone or something nibbling at our stores of knowledge. Not getting very far, but still nibbling, like a lone mouse, all by itself, nibbling at a ton of cheese. Whether the two of them, the nibbling mouse and the mischief maker, are one and the same, or otherwise connected, I do not know. Nothing must happen to Vatican, nothing must be allowed to interfere with it. We have too much at stake.