“Yes, it is time,” Leto said. “We must not keep the women waiting. March close ahead of me, Duncan, and I will answer your questions about Siaynoq.”

Obedient because he could think of no suitable alternative, Idaho turned on his heel and led off the procession. He heard the cart creak into motion behind him, the faint footsteps of the escort following.

The cart fell silent with an abruptness which jerked Idaho’s attention around. The reason was immediately apparent.

“You’re on the suspensors,” he said, returning his attention to the front.

“I have retracted the wheels because the women will press close around me,” Leto said. “We can’t crush their feet.”

“What is Siaynoq? What is it really?” Idaho asked.

“I have told you. It is the Great Sharing.”

“Do I smell spice?”

“Your nostrils are sensitive. There is a small amount of melange in the wafers.”

Idaho shook his head.

Trying to understand this event, Idaho had asked Leto directly at the first opportunity after their arrival in Onn. “What is the Feast of Siaynoq?”

“We share a wafer, no more. Even I partake.”

“Is it like the Orange Catholic ritual?”

“Oh, no! It is not my flesh. It is the Sharing. They are reminded that they are only female, as you are only male, but I am all. They share with the all.”

Idaho had not liked the tone of this. “Only male?”

“Do you know who they lampoon at the Feast, Duncan?”

“Who?”

“Men who have offended them. Listen to them when they talk softly among themselves.”

Idaho had taken this as a warning: Don’t offend the Fish Speakers. You incur their wrath at your mortal peril!

Now, as he marched ahead of Leto in the tunnel, Idaho felt that he had heard the words correctly but learned nothing from them. He spoke over his shoulder.

“I don’t understand the Sharing.”

“We are together in the ritual. You will see it. You will feel it. My Fish Speakers are the repository of a special knowledge, an unbroken line which only they share. Now, you will partake of it and they will love you for it. Listen to them carefully. They are open to ideas of affinity. Their terms of endearment for each other have no reservations.”

More words, Idaho thought. More mystery.

He could discern a gradual widening in the tunnel; the ceiling sloped higher. There were more glowglobes, tuned now into the deep orange. He could see the high arch of an opening about three hundred metres away, rich red light there in which he could make out glistening faces which swayed gently left and right. Their bodies below the faces presented a dark wall of clothing. The perspiration of excitement was thick here.

As he neared the waiting women, Idaho saw a passage through them and a ramp slanting up to a low ledge on his right. A great arched ceiling curved away above the women, a gigantic space illuminated by glowglobes tuned high into the red.