Slowly the anger ran out of him. Even under the codex Earth had drafted, the Seat was approved for anyone who profaned the temple. Such stupidity deserved whatever it got. “My apologies, Kaia.”
“There was no offense, Eli,” she told him, smiling quickly at the ritual of names. “Now, if you’ll consent, we can talk better in my quarters.”
In the little room behind the great gold and jade statue of Her, she waved the slaves aside and served him mild faya wine and some of the matchless Kalvan cheese. Then she sank back gratefully onto her cushions, setting up a tinkling of ornaments.
“‘A wise man has many swords’,” she quoted. “I am glad your Governor sent you instead of the warship the administrator requested—which could have done no good. Perhaps together you and I can find a solution. Eh’, when you were here before, how much did you learn of Her incarnations and their power?”
He could feel the muscles of his face tense, but he forced himself to remain calm. “I met one of your goddesses and saw what she could do,” he answered.
“Meia!” Kaia’s eyes seemed to gleam suddenly, as if a light had been turned on behind them. Then she relaxed again. “I heard rumors, though I was only serving in the temple brothel at the time. Well, at least you know that a child can be born to our race who looks something like one of you—and who can grow up to work miracles. This Athon claims to be one of them.”
“A man?” Judson asked in surprise, though he should have expected it.
She nodded. “All were girls, except the first, who founded our religion in a series of bloody holy wars. Some legends make it seem that he was fertile, unlike the girls, and that they may all have been seed from his loins. But the people believe they are incarnations of the Goddess, and they don’t disturb the temple too much. Athon does.”
“Yet you didn’t have him assassinated when he first appeared?” Judson asked. He was trying to adjust his thinking to the new facts. Some kind of strange mutation, recessive and with linked genes, carrying the ability of mental healing? It was possible. Earth had found and developed a few minds with some of the same ability; they were the ones who handled the expensive geriatric rejuvenation treatments.
“I tried,” she admitted. “More than once. But he converted my assassins and my spies. Then I tried to persuade the administrator to proclaim him a human, pretending to be Sayonese. There was the missionary woman before my time, you know. She tried it, until Earth found her here.”
Judson had some memory from his reading. He frowned over the idea. It would make things easier, certainly. The Sayonese took the mysterious word “Science” as the unimpressive answer to anything humans might do, and they’d “regard any alien race dabbling in their religion as “the ultimate abomination. Damn Du-pont! The man could have used his brains instead of the rule book once in his life; instead, he’d played it safe until the last possible minute and then yelled for help.
“I suppose Dupont took it under advisement and warned you not to touch the man until it could be proved he wasn’t human?” he guessed. At her nod, he swore softly. It fitted too well. “Do you think this Athon is human?”
She shrugged, glancing bitterly at a framed copy of the Earth-Sayon covenant. “Who knows what a male incarnation would be like? And how can I tell about Earthmen when every one I have seen is different in size, shape—and even color? My hands are bound. If he is human, I can do nothing. If he is of Sdyon, he is beyond my power as an incarnation! Yet he must be stopped, for the good of both your world and mine. Here!”
She pulled a jewel-studded box to her and began removing papers from it, written in the native script. “Can you read these?” she asked. At his nod, she passed them over to him. “Take them with you. You’ll see he preaches both a Father-Principle and a Mother-Principle. He wants the riches of the temple stripped away and divided among everyone. He claims all races are equal. Eli, consider what that would do to Earth’s position! Or think how little you could deal with Sayon without the temple—as the temple cannot do without Earth now. Is Earth strong enough in this Sector today to conquer Sayon against a fanatic people—or to hold the other worlds if this planet breaks away?”
Abruptly, she stopped to study him. Then a slow, hard smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I was desperate enough to think of bribing you, Eli. But a poor man after forty years in your Service must be ah honest one. Still, at least, you can see what I chose for you.”
It lay on the bottom of the box, gleaming iridescent in the light and silvery white in the shadows—a necklace of the almost mythical moon pearls. On Earth, one would buy full geriatric treatments and ten would win the governorship of almost any Sector he could name. His hand shook, but he managed a smile as he reached out to close the lid.
Her own laugh sounded strained as she put the box away. “Well, perhaps someday the Goddess will reward you for honesty. One can always hope,” she said. Then she heaved herself up and turned to the doorway. “I’ve got a chariot waiting to take you to the palace.”
It was on a nearby ramp that ran downward gradually until it passed through a narrow gate below the steps, but Judson hardly noticed the path the priestess driving it chose. He was cursing to himself and at himself as the picture of his interview with Kaia solidified in his thoughts. She’d given him a little information, shoved the entire responsibility on him, and—yes, damn it—she’d managed to offer him the moon pearls for his help! Those final words could only mean that. She’d managed it within an hour of meeting him; yet on her own ground and hi her own specialty, she couldn’t handle the problem she’d given him!
Abruptly, the chariot jerked to a jarring halt and began backing. He looked up. The street they had been about to enter—the main street between palace and temple—was crammed with some kind of procession. In the very center, however, there was a clear space where one heavily-robed figure moved by itself.
He caught the priestess’ hands as she tried to turn the team around. “Wait. Is that Athon?”
She nodded, hate and sickness on her face.
The binoculars did little good. The light was already failing, and the slow-moving figure seemed completely covered in a robe and hood. Judson turned to glance at the crowd, then focused in shoct on two of the Ludh bowmen, marching toward the rear! They had no business here! If the Ludh could be converted…
A startled noise from the mob broke the weird minor chant that had been rising, and he spun back to see a Sayonese man running toward the solitary marching figure. In one arm he was brandishing a sword weakly,
shouting as he ran. The flesh on his body was covered with the great scabs of brown skin-rot, and he was wasted to almost skeletal thinness.
The men nearest him started for him, just as he staggered. But there was still strength enough in his body. With a final yell, he raised the sword and plunged it deep into his own breast.
The robed figure stopped beside the threshing body on the street. A hand came out of the robe to pluck the sword easily from the wound, almost without touching it. Then the hand withdrew, and Athon bent over, as if chiding the dying man. Finally he straightened. The swordsman was quiet for a second. Then the body stirred, sat up, sprang to its feet with a wild cry of joy, and dashed back into the crowd. There were no brown scabs left on the emaciated figure.
The chant rose to a wild frenzy and the procession moved on. In the center, the robed figure seemed to shake its head sadly.
At Judson’s nod, the priestess got the chariot turned and began heading back through twisted alleys toward the palace. His mind was churning wildly on what he had seen. It was so completely beyond any use of healing power known to Earth—or even to the,legends here—that it could only be called a miracle, unless it had been the best-staged piece of trickery ever performed so openly.