Clarion

CLARION

would have to be careful; the steps had been designed for feet smaller than human. A ventilation grille was affixed to the wall just below the secondfloor landing. Quinton moved past it to the landing and checked the door to make sure he could get through it quickly. That would be his escape route: up to the roof, down along the wall on the far side, out into the darkness of the road—with, no doubt, the Sons of God shrieking after him.

He went back to the ventilation grille and returned the scatter gun to his pocket, then unslung his canvas bag and opened it on the landing. It took less than a minute to select the tool he needed and remove the grillwork fastenings. Then he was squirming through the horizontal metal duct. His hands and elbows stirred up choking dust. Ahead of him a dim square of light marked another ventilation outlet. He moved to it carefully and looked through. Below him was a vast circular room.

"I've reached the chamber." His eyes went to the center of the room. "I can see the chauka." Despite the anxiety, he felt a slight disappointment; from here the chauka looked to be nothing more than a shallow metal dish about two meters across. He was unsure of its color in the dim light—grayish, he thought, or dull blue. Its base was hidden from view. Protruding from one side just below the edge of the dish was a single slender rod.

According to High Elder Alban Brill and his cronies in the Holy Order, the chauka was the most sacred of the holy relics of the Tal Tahir.

"Doesn't look like much," he said softly, thinking of his friends who had died because of. the chauka. He edged forward so he could see the rest of the room. The light came from several flickering globes that were spaced along the far wall. "There are a lot of. . ." He paused, trying to think of a way William Greenleaf

to describe the strange-looking objects that were scattered across the floor like clumps of stony, slab-sided vegetation. They ranged in height from knee-high to a few that were taller than a man. Oddly shaped notches had been cut into the base of each. After a moment he realized that the objects were arranged in concentric circles that radiated outward from the chauka.

"Pedestals of some kind," he said at last, and made an effort to describe them. Then he heard shuffling sounds from the outer chamber. "The ceremony's about to start. I'll have to keep quiet now."

Through the ventilation grille he could see the first of the deacons as they came, two by two, through the archway. They filed by ten feet from Quinton's watching eyes and formed a neat line along the curve of the wall under the light globes. There were ten of them in white, calf-length robes. They stood perfectly still with their eyes fixed on the dish of the chauka. Quinton's eyes went back to the archway as the six elders began to file through, straight-backed in appropriately regal style. They took positions closer to the chauka, just inside the inner circle of pedestals. They, too, fixed their eyes on the metal dish.

For a long moment the room was held by heavy silence. Then two more figures moved slowly through the archway. The most striking was a tall man with pale skin that contrasted sharply with his red, ankle-length robe. Quinton recognized him instantly—Alban Brill, High Elder of the Tal Tahir, leader of the Holy Order and the most powerful man on the planet. A palm-sized silver disk gleamed at his throat. The Godstone. At his side walked a thin boy with short dark hair. The boy's smooth cheeks reflected the light and gleamed with health.

CLARION______________________;

The boy was the initiate; tonight he would become a member of the Sons of God. A slight shudder passed through Quinton. He caught himself, thought: Now, what was that forf Alban Brill was only an old man, and the Holy Order was made up of blind fanatics.

Dangerous fanatics, he reminded himself, and carefully pulled the scatter gun out of the deep pocket.

High Elder Brill and the boy walked together past the deacons and elders, and stopped in front of the chauka. The High Elder's eyes were invisible in the pits of shadow beneath his brow. Quinton gripped the handle of the scatter gun, wondering if the proper moment had come. Brill was within easy range. But something made him wait. Curiosity'!

Sudden movement brought Quinton's eyes back to the far wall. As if they had all received a silent signal at the same instant, each deacon extracted a long, flutelike instrument from the folds of his gown. They lifted the instruments and began playing. Quinton had heard the music of the priams before—if it could be called music. But there was no melody, only a series of low hums and highpitched tones that merged from time to time into an eerie chorus.

High Elder Brill stood rigid in front of the chauka with the young boy a half step behind him. Then Brill's hands went wide and the full sleeves of his robe billowed. The music ceased abruptly. In the dim light the High Elder's narrow face shone white like a skull. Staring intently at the empty space above the dish of the chauka, he began to moan softly. Then his voice broke into a series of short, choppy syllables. Quinton strained to hear. Brill was speaking gibberish—or a language

Quinton had never heard. Then he fell silent, his eyes still on the chauka. The boy stood rigid beside William Greenleaf

him. Brill spoke again, this time in Basic. His voice had lapsed into the singsong tones of a chant:

"Oh Great One, who comforts us,

King of all holy places,

Lord Tern the Almighty,

Come, we ask you, hear our prayers."

The elders repeated the chant in a chorus of mixed high and low tones, their voices echoing around the chamber. The deacons back against the wall remained silent. Brill spoke again:

"Hear this our song to you,

Monarch of monarchs in whose name

Our enemies are slain.

We praise thee!"

This last was followed by a sudden clapping of hands that made Quinton jump a little. The elders echoed the chant. Then High Elder Brill knelt down on the paved floor in front of the chauka and held his hands out to it with palms open, as if he were warming them over an open fire. The elders began to chant:

"Lord Tern, Lord Tern, Lord Tern . . ." Brill reached to his throat, and Quinton thought at first he was going to unclasp the robe. Then he realized the High Elder was removing the

Godstone. Brill fondled the round disk and fitted it into the palm of his hand as if it offered cool comfort. Through all this the elders continued the droning chant. Then Brill reached out slowly and brought the Godstone into contact with the rod protruding from the edge of the chauka. Quinton heard a faint snap\

"Lord Tern, Lord Tern . . ."

Quinton swallowed. The skin of his face felt hot and dry, and he decided he had seen as much of