Moneo tipped his head slightly to the left. “Lord, how does this help me?”

“It will help you with the Lady Hwi!”

CHAPTER XXX

The singular multiplicity of this universe draws my deepest attention. It is a thing of ultimate beauty.

—The Stolen Journals

Leto heard Moneo in the antechamber just before Hwi entered the small audience room. She wore voluminous pale green pantaloons tightly tied at the ankles with darker green bows to match her sandals. A loose blouse of the same dark green could be seen under her black cloak.

She appeared calm as she approached Leto and sat without being invited, choosing a golden cushion rather than the red one she had occupied earlier. It had taken less than an hour for Moneo to bring her. Leto’s acute hearing detected Moneo fidgeting in the anteroom and Leto sent a signal which sealed the arched doorway there.

“Something had disturbed Moneo,” Hwi said. “He tried very hard not to reveal this to me, but the more he tried to soothe me the more he aroused my curiosity.”

“He did not frighten you?”

“Oh, no. He did say something very interesting, though. He said that I must remember it at all times, that the God Leto is a different person to each of us.”

“How is this interesting?” Leto asked.

“The interesting thing is the question for which this was the preface. He said he often wonders what part we play in creating that difference in you?”

“That is interesting.”

“I think it is a truthful insight,” Hwi said. “Why have you summoned me?”

“At one time, your masters on Ix…”

“They are no longer my masters, Lord.”

“Forgive me. I will refer to them hereafter as the Ixians.”

She nodded gravely, prompting: “At one time…”

“The Ixians contemplated making a weapon—a type of hunter-seeker, self-propelled death with a machine mind. It was to be designed as a self-improving thing which would seek out life and reduce that life to its inorganic matter.”

“I have not heard of this thing, Lord.”

“I know that. The Ixians do not recognize that machine-makers always run the risk of becoming totally machine. This is ultimate sterility. Machines always fail… given time. And when these machines failed there would be nothing left, no life at all.”

“Sometimes I think they are mad,” she said.

“Anteac’s opinion. That is the immediate problem. The Ixians are now engaged in an endeavour which they are concealing.”

“Even from you?”

“Even from me. I am sending the Reverend Mother Anteac to investigate for me. To help her, I want you to tell her everything you can about the place where you spent your childhood. Omit no detail, no matter how small. Anteac will help you remember. We want every sound, every smell, the shapes and names of visitors, the colours and even the tinglings of your skin. The slightest thing may be vital.”

“You think it is the place of concealment?”

“I know it is.”

“And you think they are making this weapon in…”