"True, and not entirely true," Olmy said. "In your day, many people were so severely handicapped by personality disorders or faulty thinking structures that they often acted against their own best interests. If they had clearly defined goals, they could not reason or even intuit the clear paths attain those goals. Often adversaries had the same goals, even very similar belief systems, yet hated each other bitterly. Now, no human has the excuse of ignorance or mental malfunction, or even lack of ability. Incompetence is inexcusable, because it can be remedied. One of Ser Ram Kikura's services is to guide people in selecting appropriate skills and attitudes for their work. They can assimilate the necessary adjuncts, whether it be a set of memories or even a personality supplement."

"So why do they still disagree?" Heineman asked.

Olmy shook his head. "Know that, and you understand the ultimate root of all conflict in the realm of Star, Fate and Pneuma. In all the universes accessible to us."

"It's unknowable, then," Lanier said.

"Not at all. It's all too clear. There can be more than one ultimately desirable goal, and many equally valid ways to achieve those goals. Unfortunately, there are limited resources, and not everyone can follow the paths they want. That is true even for us. Our citizens are for the most part good-hearted, capable and diverse. I say for the most part, because the Axis City system is by no means perfect. . . .”

"What you're saying is, the gods themselves would have war. . . .”

Olmy agreed. "Interesting how the crude myths of our youth come back as eternal truths, no?"

Lanier knocked on Patricia's door and called her name. A few minutes, and several more knocks later, Patricia opened the door and motioned for him to come in. Her hair had been mussed into twisted strands. She wore the same clothing she had worn at the beach.

"Just checking to see how you're feeling," Lanier said, standing awkwardly in the main room, not sure whether to fold his arms or let his hands hang down at his sides.

"I'm thinking," Patricia said, turning to look at him. Her eyes were plaintive. "How long has it been?"

"Since you left the beach?"

"Yes. How long?"

"Twelve hours. It's dark outside."

"I know. I turned on the lights before letting you in. This place is just like a hotel room. That's what it's supposed to be, I guess. Quaint. Back to basics. That's what the President said."

"You don't sound right," Lanier said. "Something's wrong."

"I can't stop thinking. I've been in the state—that's what I call it, deep thinking—I've been here for twelve hours now. I'm in it now. I can just barely talk to you, you know."

"Thinking about what?"

"Going home. It all comes down to that."

"Olmy said—"