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m on the ladder of status。 Perhaps we're all extra…susceptible on account of being primitives； having no other experience with Galactics。
But skepticism was slippery as the Rothen emissaries conversed with the sages in voices that seemed warm； passionate。 A robot amplified the discourse for all to hear。
〃We two now express grateful and respectful honors for your hospitality；〃 Ro…kenn said in a very prim； grammatically perfect GalSixish。
〃Furthermore； we now express regret for any anxiety our presence may have generated among your noble mons；〃 Ro…pol added。 〃Only of late have we e to realize the depth of your unease。 Overing our natural reticence…our shyness； if you will…we now emerge to soothe your quite unwarranted fears。〃
Again； whispers of tentative hope from the crowd…not an easy emotion for Jijoan exiles。
Ro…kenn spoke again。
〃Now we express joy and appreciation to have been invited to attend your sacred rites。 One of us shall acpany you on this eve； to witness the wonderment inherent in； and remarkably expressed by； your renowned and Holy Egg。〃
〃Meanwhile；〃 Ro…pol continued； 〃the other of us shall withdraw to contemplate how best to reward your mons for your pains； your worries； and your hard sequestered lives。〃
Ro…pol appeared to muse on the problem for a moment； choosing her words。
〃Some gift； we foresee。 Some benefaction to help you through the ages ahead； as each of your cojoined races seeks salvation down the long； courageous path known as Return…to…innocence。〃
A murmur coursed the ranks of onlookers…pleasure at this surprising news。
Now each of the sages took turns making a weling speech； starting with Vubben； whose aged wheels squeaked as he rolled forward to recite from one of the oldest scrolls。 Something apropos about the ineffable nature of mercy； which drifts upward from the ground when least expected； a grace that cannot be earned or even merited； only lovingly accepted when it es。
Lark let the neophyte rewq slip back over his eyes。 The Rothen pair remained immersed in a nimbus of confused colors； so while Vubben droned on； he turned and scanned the assembled onlookers。
Of course rewq offered no magic window to the soul。 Mostly； they helped make up for the fact that each race came equipped with brain tissue specifically adapted for reading emotional cues from its own kind。 Rewq were most effective when facing another rewq…equipped being； especially if the two symbionts first exchanged empathy hormones。
Is that why the sages aren't wearing theirs now？ In order to protect secret thoughts？
From the throng he picked up ripples of fragile optimism and mystical wonder； cresting here and there with spumelike waves of near…religious fervor。 There were other colors； however。 From several dozen qheuens； hoon； urs； and men…proctors and militia guards…there flowed cooler shades of duty。 Refusal to be distracted by anything short of a major earthquake。
Another glittering twinkle Lark quickly recognized as a different kind of duty； more plex； focused； and vain。 It acpanied a brief reflection off a glass lens。 Bloor and his rades at work； Lark guessed。 Busy recording the moment。
Lark's symbiont was working better now。 In fact； despite its lack of training； it might never again be quite this sensitive。 At this moment almost every rewq in the valley was the same age； fresh from caves where they had lately mingled in great piles； sharing unity enzymes。 Each would be acutely aware of the others； at longer than normal range。
I should warn Bloor。 His people shouldn't wear rewq。 If it lets me spot them； it might help robots； too。
Another swirl caught his eye； flashing bitterly from the far end of the Glade； standing out from the prevailing mood like a fire burning on an ice…field。 There was no mistaking a flare of acrid hate。
Finally he made out a shaggy snakelike neck； rising from the profile of a small centaur。 Rewq…mediated colors； like a globe of distilled loathing； obscured the head itself。
The wearer of that distant； powerful symbiont suddenly seemed to notice Lark's focused regard。 Shifting her attention from aliens and sages； she turned to face Lark directly。 Across a crowd of shifting； sighing citizens； they watched each other's colors。 Then； in unison each pulled back their rewq。
In clear light； Lark met her unblinking stare…the urrish leader of the zealot cause。 A rebel whose malice toward invaders was stronger than Lark had realized。 With those three fierce eyes turned his way； Lark needed no symbiont to translate the zealot's feelings toward him。
Under the late afternoon sun； her neck twisted and she snarled an urrish smile of pure； disdainful contempt。
The pilgrimage menced at dusk； with long forest shadows pointing toward a hidden mountain pass。 Twelve twelves of chosen citizens represented all the mons； along with two star…humans； four robots； and one tall ancient being whose shambling gait hinted great strength under glossy white robes。
Judging by his so…humanlike smile； Ro…kenn seemed to find delight in countless things； especially the rhythmic chanting…a blending of vocal contributions from all races…as the assembly set out past steaming vents and sheer clefts； weaving its slow way toward the hidden oval Valley of the Egg。 The Rothen's long…fingered hands stroked slim…boled welpal trees； whose swaying resonated with emanations from that secret vale。 Most humans would hear nothing till they got much closer。
In Lark's heart； dark feelings churned。 Nor was he alone。 Many； especially those farthest from Ro…kenn's cheerful charisma； still felt uneasy about guiding strangers to this sacred place。
The procession marched； rolled； and slithered； wending higher into the hills。 Soon the heavens glittered with formations of sparkling lights…brittle bright clusters and nebulae…divided by the dark stripe of the Galactic disk。 If anything； the sight reinforced the starkly uneven order of life； for tonight's guests would shortly cross those starscapes； whether they departed in peace or betrayal。 To them； Jijo would bee another quaint； savage； perhaps mildly interesting spot they had visited once in long； deified lives。
The last time Lark came up this way…so earnest about his self…appointed mission to save Jijo from invaders like himself…no one had any thought of starships cruising Jijo's sky。
Yet they were already up there； preparing to land。
What is more frightening？ The danger you already dread； or the trick the universe hasn't pulled on you yet？ The one to make all prior concerns seem moot。
Lark hoped none of this gloom carried into his letter to Sara； which he had finished in a hurried pencil scrawl by the headwaters of the Bibur after the Rothen emerged。 The kayak pilot added Lark's note to a heavy bundle from Bloor； then set off in a flash of oars； speeding down the first set of spuming rapids in a pell…mell rush toward Biblos； two days' hard rowing away。
On his way back to rendezvous with the other heretics； he had stopped to watch the alien aircraft glide out of its dark tunnel like a wraith； rising on whispering engines。 Lark glimpsed a small human silhouette； hands and face pressed against an oval window； drinking in the view。 The figure looked familiar。。。 but before he could raise his pocket ocular； the machine sped away； eastward； toward a cleft where the largest moon was rising above the Rimmer Range。
Now； as the evening procession entered a final twisty canyon leading to the Egg； Lark tried putting temporal concerns aside； preparing for munion。 It may be my last chance； he thought； hoping this time he might fully take part in the wholeness others reported； when the Egg shared its full bounty of love。
Drawing his right arm inside his sleeve； he grasped the rocky flake； despite its growing heat。 A passage from the Scroll of Exile came to mind…an Anglic version； modified for Earthlings by one of the first human sages。
We drift； rudderless； down the stream of time；
betrayed by the ancestors who left us here；
blind to much that was hard…learnt by other ages；
fearful of light and the law；
but above all； anxious in our hearts
that