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her communicator from the belt loop where it hung. She spoke into it, urgently,
and a crackle of excited speech came from it, which Dane's translator rendered as a
jumble of What-the-hell-happened-to-you-Captain, and What-shall-we-do-about-it?
"Nothing," said Dravash, "The Captain and I, and all of us, are all right, and
waiting for you."
"We'll send a shuttle right away "
The giant white saurian said, "There is no need for that, we can restore you
instantly to your ship " and stopped. Then he said, "No. Allow your ship's shuttle
to land. There is no need for you to suffer further disorientation."
Rhomda clasped Dane's hand briefly.
"I wish you were coming with us," Dane said, but he knew, as he spoke, that it was
only his way of saying he would miss Rhomda. Rhomda was entirely suited to his
own world. He was in a position of strength and responsibility.
"I am committed to be servant and helper to the Blessed Saint," said Rhomda,
indicating Vasa'ariyo, who was blinking painfully in the light, "So long as he lives, I
shall never leave him."
"Nor I," Aratak said suddenly. "The wisdom of the Divine Egg has shown me that
all wisdom is one. I, too, will remain and sample the wisdom of a race older than
mine. Bid me farewell, my dearest children."
Rianna flung her arms around the huge lizard-man. Dane felt his throat tighten.
Aratak had been at his side since he awakened in a cage on the Makhar ship, and
this parting was anguish. He tried to smile, but the words would not come. Aratak
was a philosopher, not a fighter. And he, too, would be an ambassador to this world,
perhaps a truer ambassador than the still-warped Farspeaker, bringing the wisdom
of the Egg to join with that of the Blessed Saints. He said at last, his voice sticking to
his throat, "Leave others their Otherness. I'd like to stay here, too. But " he
looked at Rianna, and Aratak s huge paw descended, gentle, on his shoulder.
"Your fate lies elsewhere, my friend. Farewell. Think sometimes of me." He went to
the side of the great white
saurian . . . Saint Vasa'ariyo. Have all the Saints been criminals condemned by their
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r r
kind?
Rhomda said quietly to Joda, "You go with your Lady Mistress? I shall bear word
to your kin that you are safe and well, and gone to the lands beyond Raife; the truth
would only hurt and frighten them beyond bearing." He laid both hands on Joda's
shoulders, and said, "You have chosen wisely, my son. You have dishonored your
spear; there is no place for you here."
Joda said quietly, "I think there never was a place for me here, Master Rhomda. I
was lucky; I found my place. Some day, though, will you try to help some other boy
who is not as lucky as I and cannot find his place?"
"I swear it." Rhomda touched the hilt of his spear. "Farewell, Joda Granth-slayer."
Joda shook his head. From around his neck, where the amulets were clustered, he
took the granth's tooth and said, "I don't need it any more. Keep it to remember me
by, Master Rhomda."
Rhomda silently put it around his own neck, lifting his spear in tribute and farewell.
And then, above them in the sky, the shuttle ship from the Unity was descending
slowly to the ground, and Aratak and Rhomda were leading the saint away, down
the hill, from the painful glare. They disappeared into the darkness of the jungle.
Dane sat in the observation lounge, watching Belsar recede in the screen. Rianna
was already making notes into her voice-scriber, watched by a fascinated Joda.
Utopia, he thought. For me, after Dullsville, it was a marvelous world. But one man's
Utopia is another man's hell. Dullsville was hell for me.
"I suppose," he said to Rianna, "that you'll spend the next couple of years making
notes and anthropological observations on what-we were doing here?" But he really
didn't need to ask.
"I'm afraid so," she said apologetically. "And I've got to find a place for Joda to be
educated, somewhere where he won't suffer too much from cultural shock. Central
City is too big, too mechanical . . . perhaps the University Preserve on Spica Seven . .
. oh, Dane, do you really mind so much? I'm afraid it's going to be years before we
get that anthropological observation-trip we wanted. . . ."
He shrugged. "For a while," he said, "Dullsville's going to
be fine. A chance to rest up. And when I get tired of it, this time___"
He leaned over and kissed her, knowing he no longer resented it, that her needs and
wishes were alien from his own. He loved her; he would always love her, always
come back to her. But he was no longer wholly dependent on her. It was a big galaxy
out there. And somewhere, like Joda, he could find a place in it. He leaned over,
hugging her exuberantly close in his arms, and she returned his kiss with a passion
that wiped out all the resentments of the days on Belsar.
Dravash, watching Belsar in the observation screen turned to look at them, and
shook his head with a sigh.
"You protosimians!" he said, scowling; then, suddenly, laughed.
"The Divine Egg has rightly told us," he said, while Ri-anna and Dane gaped at
him, "That it is well to leave others their Otherness. The Unity is large enough to
embrace all kinds of differences. I shall go and make a final contact with
Farspeaker, and assure myself that all is well with him."
He left the lounge, and Dane, smiling affectionately after the big Sh'fejj, thought:
what was it Aratak always said? I rejoice in the diversity of Creation.
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r r
It's a big galaxy, out there, he thought, looking joyously out at the wilderness of
encircling stars. And somewhere in it, there's a place for everybody. Somewhere.
He gripped his Samurai sword, and drew a deep breath. For now, he had Rianna,
and Joda growing up, and a place to find. And out there . .. well, who knows?
Rejoice in the diversity of Creation! Which, of course, was just another way of saying,
Leave others their Otherness.
But then, as the Divine Egg said, all wisdom was one.
And in a world where Dravash could quote from the Divine Egg well, anything
could happen, and probably would.
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