“I knew it!”

Topri chuckled.

“Shut up, Topri,” Siona said. “I am trying to teach you a lesson. You don’t believe in anything, not even in yourself.”

“But I…”

“Be still, I say! Nayla believes. I believe. This is what holds us together. Belief.”

Topri was astonished. “Belief? You believe in…”

“Not in the God Emperor, you fool! We believe that a higher power will settle with the tyrant Worm. We are that higher power.”

Nayla took a trembling breath.

“It’s all right, Nayla,” Siona said. “I don’t care where you draw your strength, just as long as you believe.”

Nayla managed a smile, then grinned. She had never been more profoundly stirred by the wisdom of her Lord. I may speak the truth and it works only for my God!

“Let me show you what I’ve found in these books,” Siona said. She gestured at some sheets of ordinary paper on the table. “Pressed between the pages.”

Nayla stepped around the table and looked down at it.

“First, there’s this.” Siona held up an object which Nayla had not noticed. It was a thin strand of something… and what appeared to be a…

“A flower?” Nayla asked.

“This was between two pages of paper. On the paper was written this.”

Siona leaned over the table and read: “A strand of Ghanima’s hair with a starflower blossom which she once brought me.”

Looking up at Nayla, Siona said: “Our God Emperor is revealed as a sentimentalist. That is a weakness I had not expected.”

“Ghanima?” Nayla asked.

“His sister! Remember your Oral History.”

“Oh… oh, yes. The Prayer to Ghanima.”

“Now, listen to this.” Siona took up another sheet of paper and read from it.

“The sand beach as grey as a dead cheek,

A green tideflow reflects cloud ripples;

I stand on the dark wet edge.

Cold foam cleanses my toes.

I smell driftwood smoke.”

Again, Siona looked up at Nayla. “This is identified as ‘Words I wrote when told of Ghani’s death.’ What do you think of that?”

“He… he loved his sister.”

“Yes! He is capable of love. Oh, yes! We have him now.”

CHAPTER VI

Sometimes I indulge myself in safaris which no other being may take. I strike inward along the axis of my memories. Like a schoolchild reporting on a vacation trip, I take up my subject. Let it be… female intellectuals! I course backward into the ocean which is my ancestors. I am a great winged fish in the depths. The mouth of my awareness opens and I scoop them up! Sometimes… sometimes I hunt out specific persons recorded in our histories. What a private joy to relive the life of such a one while I mock the academic pretensions which supposedly formed a biography.

—The Stolen Journals

Moneo descended to the crypt with sad resignation. There was no escaping the duties required of him now. The God Emperor required a small passage of time to grieve the loss of another Duncan… but then life went on… and on…