Without interrupting his measured flow of words, Ma'el slowly lay back and folded his hands across his chest. The high sides of the casket gave his voice an added resonance as he went on, "If this trend continues, and if you are given enough time to benefit from it, your people will reach a degree of philosophical maturity and civilization unparalleled among the cultures of the explored galaxy, and will remain strong with these qualities intact so that we will be able to withstand any threat from the Jarridians or anyone else. That is the reason for the background subjects of the mosaic. They are there for those who will later have the ability to see and understand the implicit philosophical message that the people of Earth and the Taelon should be joined as equals.
"Together we would be unbeatable. But if we fight each other, all hope for the survival of this world and the countless others that fill the night sky will be lost. Farewell, my friends, and please go now."
"But, but we can still talk," Sinead protested, tears coming to her eyes. "About the old times, the things we did together and, we've time to say a proper good-bye. You aren't dead yet."
"No," Ma'el replied gently, "nor do I intend to die for some time." He tapped the back of one hand with the fingers of the other. "You have seen what lies under this shell, the seemingly insubstantial patterns and structures of force that are my true body. Know, then, that all the physical work that you can do for me is completed. In the fullness of time and if our plans reach fruition, you will have the thanks of the entire Taelon species, and you already have mine. But from now onward I must work without this physical body covering, and alone.
"Please, close me in."
As the heavy cover was sliding into place, Ma'el looked up at them with his large, soft eyes and lifted one hand in a gesture that was more like a benediction than a farewell.
–
After the death of King Declan the years passed quickly for Sinead. She grew old and feeble and even her long, night black hair was showing the gray streaks of dawn although her mind, she told herself, remained young. Deliberately she took little part in the affairs of the kingdom, because her son the king and his queen loved her but were sure that she was too old and frail to be burdened with the affairs of state. So she pleased herself greatly by playing with her grandchildren until they, too, became young men and women with children of their own, and she was left with the time-sightings and her memories that were so clear in sight and sound and touch that she was almost reliving them.
Some of the timesightings were so strange that she could not understand what she was seeing and others, especially those concerning the almost magical devices and abilities of the healers of that future time, made her gasp with excitement and wonder. Some were so terrifying that she was glad they were of a distant time and could not affect her as a person. Others were happy because in them she saw another and younger Declan, although that was not his name, who was a Protector of a Taelon Companion called Da'an. She felt pride in his daring adventures and almost jealous because he loved a comely young woman of the future who was not herself.
She remembered the first meeting with her Declan, and her early hatred of him that had slowly changed to a depth of love so great that she could still not fully understand how it had happened, and the incredible gentleness of that great, strong body when it enfolded her and the passion of their lovemaking. Inevitably that led to the more recent memory of the time when she had held his dying body in her arms and he had smiled at her for the last time.
Then there were the memories of his entombment, of him being laid to rest among the other great warrior kings and queens of history, in the time and tradition-hallowed place where he had never expected to lie. But he did not lie there.
Instead he sat on a stone chair in a burial passage parallel with the one where a thin wall of clay concealed the mosaic of Ma'el. It depicted Ma'el surrounded by representations of some of the Earth gods, prophets, philosophers, and lawgivers-Buddha, Confucius, the great Amun-Ra of the Egyptians, and Quetzalcoatl, the Aztec god of death, resurrection and civilization, and the Christus-all of whom in greater or lesser degree had influenced Ma'el's investigation and who would, he had hoped, likewise influence the thinking of the Taelons so that they would realize that the people of Earth were not merely a resource for exploitation but worthy of becoming their first other world Companions. The mosaic gave directions in Taelon script for finding Ma'el's tomb when the time came for its discovery close on two millennia in the future.
Declan was dressed in royal robes, a simple crown rested on his head, and at an unusual and awkward angle across his lap he held a sword whose blade pointed in the direction of his castle and the location of Ma'el's buried space vehicle. On its hilt there was an inscription in Taelon that proclaimed to those who would later come to see, and to understand what they were seeing, that here was not only a great king but the First Protector of the Taelons on Earth.
But she was becoming selfish in her old age, Sinead thought, and her druidic beliefs were being influenced by other teachings. Her work here was done and her time-sights into the far future, although confusing, suggested that ultimately all would be well on Earth and among the stars. All that there was left for her to do was to wait until she could be with her beloved Declan again.
And, if a place could be found for a Taelon in the human hereafter, the gentle Ma'el.