supreme  ideal,  is  still  only  a  weapon  for
suppressing the power of the riff-raff."
     "The Movement of  Blood  will justify its name," affirmed Yar Jupi, who
already considered himself as one of its leaders.
     The proprietors exchanged glances.
     "We shall deal with the roundheads both  here  and  overseas," said the
future Dictator with inspiration.
     "You  traded  with the roundheads,  your wife  nursed  their children,"
began a workshop proprietor insinuatingly, and he threw back his cowl. "That
is advantageous to us, because, however loudly you may  shout  about hatred,
the  overseas  proprietors can still trust you  most of all for  having been
able to get on with the  roundheads. You will go overseas and  convince them
that  what has happened here  will happen  to them too. Let  them help us to
deal with the power of the 'seekers after justice', having thereby preserved
their own possessions. Let them send good weapons to the contingents of your
cutthroats.  You  will know  how  to  use it.  Both  now ... and  later. You
understand?" And the  workshop proprietor  pulled the hood with its eyeslits
down over his face.
     Yar Jupi  understood everything perfectly.  Shrewd and cunning, he made
his Doctrine of Hatred the main weapon against the Power of Justice. He even
did not hesitate to publicise his maniacal plan for the seizure of the whole
planet  by  the longfaces. The overseas proprietors  turned  a blind  eye to
this. It was most important of all for them to help the leader  to deal with
the hated power of the  toilers, and  if he also spouted empty phrases about
conquests, then let him amuse  himself, but  he would at least be  doing his
job.
     The   ex-tradesman  not  only  fooled  the  overseas  proprietors,   he
surrounded himself with bands of cutthroats lusting for booty. He distracted
the unstable elements from the defence of their own interests by encouraging
them to  persecute the roundheads. In a  word,  he  did  everything that was
required.
     The Power of  Justice was smashed.  Its leaders  from among the toilers
and also  many roundfaced  Faetians were exterminated. The continent swam in
blood. Yar Jupi was carried to the top on a crest of bloody foam.
     The Council of Blood  made the subtle and  obliging shopkeeper Dictator
of Power-mania, counting on his  subservience. No one, apart from  him, knew
who was a member of the Council of Blood and whose interests it defended.
     After dealing with the toilers' revolt, the new Dictator proclaimed all
roundheads (mostly toilers) to be inferior citizens. In the name of struggle
with overpopulation on the planet, he forbade them to have children. Newborn
infants  and their parents  were threatened with the  death penalty. But the
roundheads had  to  labour twice as  hard as the  rest.  The use of overseas
products  was  declared  incompatible  with the  principles  of  blood.  The
proprietors of Powermania sighed with relief: their profits were safe.
     The overseas proprietors came  to their senses  too  late. Yar Jupi not
only deprived them of profits on the old continent, but threatened them with
a  war of disintegration, of  total annihilation. They had no option  but to
prepare  for such  a  war in  defence,  above  all, of  their own  power and
profits.
     The  military leaders  of both sides,  fearing  a  disintegration  war,
intended to deliver the strike first. To  ensure that it would  also be  the
last, they demanded the build-up of disintegration weapons.  The proprietors
of  both continents,  equally  demented  and  camouflaging their  intentions
behind phrases about a  love of  peace, compelled their workshops to produce
even more frenziedly.
     The naive hopes of  Um Sat, the great Elder of learning, for a peaceful
"balance of  fear" came down with a  crash and he now began voicing a demand
for  the total  elimination of all reserves of disintegration weapons and  a
ban on their use. Many sober minds supported him.
     In  the tense pre-war atmosphere, Yar  Jupi found himself  hearing more
and  more  often the  name of Um Sat, who had discovered the  secret  of the
disintegration  of  matter  and was now appealing  to the conscience of  the
Faetians so that it could be "covered up again".
     The Dictator  received reports  of  dangerous  conversations:  "If  the
roundheads could give the planet a Faetian like Um Sat, then how can they be
declared  inferior? Why  do the roundheads have  to  work  twice as hard  as
others,  but throughout the life  of  one  generation  they must yield their
place on Faena to the longfaces?"
     Yar Jupi sensed a threat in these "brazen" questions!
     Fearing another  Uprising  of  Justice, the Dictator lost  his peace of
mind. He fell prey  to persecution mania. He no longer left the Lair,  where
he  led an ostentatiously  ascetic  life. He was equally  mistrustful of the
roundheads  and the longfaces, and even of the proprietors of the Council of
Blood, whom he served and to whom he could become useless.
     To appease the  people,  who were boiling  with rage, he stepped up his
preparations for a disintegration  war, promising that the ban on roundheads
having children would be lifted  after the successful end of the war and the
resettlement of the victors on the overseas continent.
     Alongside  this,  he  muffled   the  discontent  of  the  toilers  with
adventurist  plans  for the transfer  of the roundheads  to the planet  Mar,
where they would be free of all prohibitions  (as if it was simply  a matter
of resettlement!).
     He therefore encouraged the conquest of space and promoted the creation
of Space  Station  Deimo  near Mar. The Culturals already  had  a base there
named Phobo. Yar Jupi even agreed to  declare Outer Space "peaceful",  since
the interests of the proprietors clashed mainly on Faena.
     However, the great learned Elder Um Sat, who  had solved  the mysteries
of matter, could  not fathom  the  depths of unscrupulous politics. For him,
the "problem of  overpopulating the planet"  really  blotted  out everything
else, although, in fact, it merely aggravated the burdens of the toilers and
their  struggle with the proprietors,  not to mention  the hostility of  the
proprietors amongst themselves. Evidently, in order to be  a true  Elder, it
was still inadequate to be learned in one specific branch of knowledge.
     No one  had expected to see  the cautious and calculating Yar Jupi at a
session of Peaceful Space. He was too afraid of assassination. Obviously, it
was not for  nothing that  Yar Jupi had chosen a place for  the session near
the Lair. The  Temple of  Eternity communicated with the former monastery by
an underground passage.
     During the session, Yar Jupi suddenly appeared out of the wall with two
impressive robot bodyguards.
     He  was  a tall, well-built Faetian with  a long, clean-shaven face,  a
small  dark beard, a  hooked  nose,  a  narrow, harsh mouth  and suspicious,
restless eyes that looked out from  under the zigzags of irregular eyebrows.
His  egg-shaped  skull,  clean shaven  on purpose,  was  considered to be of
impeccable  form among  the Superiors.  There was  something  bird-like  and
predatory in the expression on his face.
     Yar Jupi addressed  those  present with  a pompous speech  in which  he
spoke about the innate  striving of the Superiors  for  peace and about  his
agreement with the project for resettling Faetians on other planets to avoid
war on Faena.
     He had  brought as a gift  to  Peaceful Space  an interplanetary  ship.
Quest, ready for immediate lift-off together  with an  experienced astronaut
commander; he offered Um Sat the opportunity to lead the expedition to Terr.
     Then he announced the Council of Blood's decision to consider Um Sat an
"honorary longface" with rights of the  Superior amongst the  Superiors. The
basis  for  this  was  research  by  the  "historians"  of  Blood,  who  had
established that the name Sat in honour of the planet, marked  with a  noble
ring, was only given to the purest longfaces.
     Um  Sat was flabbergasted.  The expedition to  Terr  was a reality.  On
Danjab  they had  merely  been  arguing  over  how much  to allocate for  an
interplanetary ship for  Terr, whereas he could now lead such an expedition.
But  ...  that  falsification  by  the  "historians"!  The  Dictator had not
disdained to use it  so as  to take Um Sat from the roundheads.  The learned
Elder's first impulse was to turn down the Dictator's gifts; anyone  else in
his  place would have acted likewise, but he refrained. After all, he  stood
for reconciliation,  for the  settlement of Faetians  in space. How could he
say  no  to  the Faetians and refuse to survey the planet Terr,  which could
become their new home? Had he the right to display personal or racial vanity
to the detriment of all Faetian society? Would it  not be more reasonable to
demonstrate the feasibility of space resettlement and divert the interest of
the workshop  proprietors to  building spaceships  instead of  manufacturing
torpedoes for a disintegration war?
     In his answering speech,  Um Sat controlled  himself and expressed  his
gratitude to Yar Jupi both for  the interplanetary ship being handed over to
Peaceful Space and for the high rank bestowed on him, Um Sat. He promised to
think about the possibility of personally taking part in the expedition.
     He  despised  himself,  but  considered that  he  was  making  a  great
sacrifice.
     The Dictator grinned and vanished through the gap in the  wall with his
robot bodyguards. Overseas technology never failed.
     Dm  Sat  announced  an  intermission in the work of the Peaceful  Space
session. He needed to pull himself  together and justify himself to himself.
Of  course,  he  was  still  the  same  roundhead-true,  inwardly  confused,
devastated and now the owner of rights he did not need at all.
     But these rights  proved particularly necessary to his former pupil and
favourite, Ave Mar.


     Dobr Mar,  Ave's  father, the Ruler of Danjab,  felt ill at ease in the
round    office    with    the     vaulted     ceiling.    He     was    the
nine-hundred-and-sixty-second ruler who had moved in there.
     An angular chin  and a bony  jaw on the intelligent face  spoke of will
and energy; the fine mouth, turned down at the corners, testified to  worry;
the bags under the eyes and  the balding head with its  remnants  of greying
hair, to a hard  life.  He had  been given  the  name  Dobr  (Kind)  for his
coming-of-age. Until then he had borne his father's name. Terrible Mar, with
the  addition  The  Second Junior.  The Ruler was thinking of his son on the
barbarians' continent, where an explosion could occur at any time...
     In spite of himself, there arose in his mind's eye, in all its details,
that accursed day half a  cycle ago, when he had decided on an act for which
he could now find neither justification nor forgiveness.
     The robot  secretary reported that Kutsi Merc  was in the waiting-room.
Since the time when Dobr Mar's predecessor had been shot in that very office
by  his  own  secretary,  the  Grand  Circle  had  decreed that  only  robot
secretaries should work in the Ruler's Palace. And now the "intelligent box"
had shown Kutsi Merc on the screen. While  waiting to be received, Kutsi had
not noticed that he was being watched, but he was naturally alert. A typical
roundhead,  he had  a face like  the disc of Lua, Faena's eternal satellite.
His narrow eyes were looking sideways at the door.
     Relations were complex between Dobr Mar and Kutsi Merc. Only Kutsi knew
how the Ruler had come to power. Dobr Mar had formerly been a "friend of the
Ruler",  and  by law had to occupy the  "first chair"  in  the  event of his
death.
     No one abused the "mentally  unstable" assassin  more than Dobr Mar. He
swore  to pursue  the same  foreign policy  as  the late  Ruler: the eternal
hostility with Powermania was to be tempered and everything  possible should
be done to  reconcile  the planet's two continents  and deliver the Faetians
from the horrors of war.
     Not long before the assassination of Dobr Mar's predecessor, Kutsi Merc
had handed  him the terrible conditions  on  which he could become Ruler: he
must be the first to start a disintegration war.
     Once he had taken  his predecessor's place, Dobr Mar was in no hurry to
pursue the lunatic policy of the  "mortally unstable" who  demanded that the
war be won with disintegration weapons.
     Dobr Mar ruled Danjab,  finding  work and living accommodation  for the
ominously growing population. He  tried  to reduce the tension in  relations
between the continents,  put  through a  law  making  old  goods subject  to
destruction so that new  ones  would be  acquired and managed things so that
Yar  Jupi, satisfied by the cut in the  import  of  overseas goods, was even
forced to agree to joint actions in space.
     ...Dobr Mar had  guessed why Kutsi Merc had come and  what he was going
to say. After all, the Ruler had not  yet met the "special  conditions". And
on the eve of the elections,  Dobr Mar was afraid of possible denunciations.
What if he struck the first blow?
     When he went into the office, Kutsi Merc halted. Squat, but  well-built
and  broad-shouldered,  almost  without a  neck, he  looked  like a wrestler
before a match.
     The match took place. Dobr Mar went trustingly towards him.
     "The councillors  of the Grand Circle are  troubled by the  information
obtained by Kutsi Merc  to the effect that the barbarians have mastered  and
even improved on the automatic machines they originally obtained from us, so
that they have become dangerous."
     "The  Ruler is right. The  automatic  machines are dangerous. I  have a
reliable agent in the Lair."
     "What guarantee is there that  the automatic machines won't function by
accident?"
     "They're almost the same on Danjab."
     "That's not enough!  The barbarians must not be allowed  to  keep them.
Such is the decision of the Grand Circle."
     "I bow  before  the  will of the first proprietors. But  the  barbarian
automatic machines  are  under the Lair. Even a snake couldn't  get  through
there."
     "A  snake  couldn't, but Kutsi Merc could.  Besides,  he has a reliable
agent there."
     Kutsi  Merc  understood  everything.  Dobr  Mar  needed  to   show  the
proprietors that he was carrying out their conditions, and at  the same time
he could get rid of Kutsi Merc by sending him on an impossible assignment.
     After  his inevitable failure, Kutsi  Merc could no longer prevent Dobr
Mar from being re-elected.
     Not a line moved on Kutsi Merc's face.
     "It  is  clear," he said  respectfully.  "Penetrate into  the Lair  and
destroy it and its automatic machines  by using a disintegration charge." He
thought  for a moment and added almost casually, "A  reliable cover  will be
needed."
     "Fine,"  agreed  the Ruler,  walking  round the  horse-shoe  table  and
settling himself  in the  comfortable armchair. Many of his predecessors had
used  that chair  and he intended to keep his place in it for a long time to
come.
     "The cover would be Ave Mar."
     "Ave Mar? My son?" Dobr Mar rose abruptly to his feet.
     He turned away to hide  his wrath. This experienced spy was  playing an
unworthy game with him,  hoping  that the father  would not risk  his  son's
life.
     Before Dobr Mar  had thrice  put up his candidature  for Ruler and  had
been defeated for refusing to become the "Ruler's  friend", he  had been the
owner of vast fertile fields.  His son Ave had  been born  in  those fields,
close to nature. He had been given his  name  Ave (Welcome) when  he reached
maturity.  As a little boy,  he had  run around with half-naked  children of
roundheads working in his father's fields.
     He had not only gone fishing with them to help them  fill their bellies
at least  once in  a while, he had climbed trees for the nutrient buds, but,
like all generations of children, he had played at war.
     Dobr Mar was proud of his son, although the boy had inherited his curly
hair from his roundhead grandmother and his girlish curved eyelashes and his
clear gaze from  his  mother. The  father didn't  particularly  like his son
looking at the world too ecstatically, naively believing in  justice and the
ancient  laws  of  honour.  Life  had  punished  him  many  times  for  this
old-fashionedness. But  the father was flattered that his son worshipped him
for his  efficiency and  love  of peace. However, the son sometimes  behaved
rashly. On leaving his teacher  Um Sat, "not wishing to serve the science of
death", he  openly spoke up against the fact that the decisive  role on both
continents  was  being  played  by the  proprietors  of the  fields and  big
workshops who had profited from the  over-populated lands and the  labour of
those working for the proprietors. Fortunately for him, as his  father  knew
from the secret reports, he never managed to  attach himself to the "current
under the ice"  of  young people threatening to  break through even here, on
Danjab,  in  a  new  Uprising of Justice.  Ave himself often heard seditious
remarks by  disciples of  the Doctrine of Justice, but he didn't consider it
necessary to  report them to his father. Ave knew about the secret meetings,
the participants in which as in token of greeting used  to touch their right
eyebrow  with their left hand. But he was not  admitted to these assemblies.
The toilers apparently did  not trust him because he was the Ruler's son. It
never entered  his father's head that Ave  Mar's friends could safeguard him
as a  capable  scientist. After leaving Um Sat,  Ave devoted himself  to the
problem of a possible life  for the Faetians on other planets. Dobr Mar knew
but  did  not  really  understand  his  arguments  that the  authorities  on
astronomy were wrong in affirming that  life was  impossible anywhere except
on Faena, since  the other planets were  either too far away from their star
or, like Merc, Ven and Terr, had been incinerated  by its rays. The Faetians
had nowhere to go if they fled  from their own planet, if you discounted the
grim planet  Mar,  which was hardly capable of  supporting life and had been
earmarked by the  Dictator of the  barbarians' continent as a place of exile
for roundheads. It  turned out that the only means of purging the planet for
future generations might  be war and war alone. Ave, however, affirmed  that
the  temperatures there were  not as  high  as  might be  expected  from its
proximity  to Sol,  its  star.  What was decisive  was  the  carbon  dioxide
content,  which  created the greenhouse effect,  preventing  the excess heat
radiation into  space. This effect made it  possible for life to  develop on
Faena. On its horizon, the star  rose solely  as the brightest star, whereas
on Terr it must have been a blinding disc to look at. Ave held that if there
was  less carbon dioxide than on Faena, there would be no greenhouse effect,
the superfluous heat could be dissipated and any life forms could develop on
its surface.
     Ave's  views  were  rejected  by  the  experts  as  absurd.  He  became
disillusioned  in the Elders of  learning, in the  teachings and in himself,
lost heart and began to pine away.
     His father merely shrugged his shoulders. He would have preferred a son
more adapted to life, although he loved and pitied him.
     And now Kutsi Merc was demanding a sacrifice...  To carry out the task,
Dobr Mar must risk his son's life.
     Kutsi  Merc was certainly calculating  that the  Ruler would back down,
but he was mistaken. The Ruler, too, was cornered.
     ...As  he remembered all this,  Dobr  Mar,  "defender of the right  and
culture", did  not know what to do. He  did not know  how  the operation  on
Powermania was going to turn out. Would the crazy mission succeed? Would the
dangerous Kutsi Merc be eliminated, and would Ave survive?

     Chapter Four

        THE TEMPLE OF ETERNITY

     Every evening, when bright  Jupi  began shining  over  the  Dread Wall,
Mother Lua conducted the alien Ave to her charge.
     She kept watch for  them with the hunchback, who always accompanied his
master. The  nurse  and the secretary  did not  get  on very well  with  one
another. The hunchback was trying to get Mother  Lua to  take him somewhere,
but she was frightened.
     One evening, Ave came into the garden looking downcast.
     "What's the matter?" asked Mada in alarm.
     Ave Mar confessed that he had to leave the Great Shore on the following
day. The travellers were not allowed to stay any longer near the  Dictator's
palace. Kutsi had spotted that they were being trailed.
     The  young Faetians,  as  at their  first tryst,  were  standing in the
shadow of  the trees. Mada  rested  her  head on Ave's  breast  and wept. He
stroked her hair,  not knowing  what  to say. It was obvious that they loved
one another and could not bear to be apart.
     Mada held her head back  and looked up  at Ave. His  curly hair blotted
out the stars.
     "Everything'll sort  itself out,"  he said  reassuringly. "We  must use
certain of your  father's  oddities-his attachment to  the old  customs, for
instance. He  refers  in  his  teaching  to  the  former monarchs;  he  even
remembers that  intermarriage between the children of hostile kings  used to
stave off war. I'm  going to my father. I shall ask him to approach Yar Jupi
with an offer of alliance between us."
     Mada shook her head.
     "What? Get married now?" Ave had read her mind.
     "Yes. Before you leave."
     Mada said this firmly, almost imperiously.
     "You  mean  tonight?"  asked Ave,  perplexed.  "But  who's  capable  of
marrying two polar opposites of hostility?"
     Mada  laughed, although  her face was  still wet with tears. Ave had an
odd way of putting things in a foreign language.
     "You  just don't know the ways of  the  Superiors. It's the  roundheads
that need permission from the authorities to  get married.  But we longfaces
are free. Any of the  Superiors whose age  exceeds the combined ages  of the
lovers can pronounce them man and wife."
     "But  where are we going  to find such an elder? Ave is only a guest of
the Superiors."
     "What does 'guest' mean? Are you helpless to find an answer?"
     Ave flared up.
     "I  was a pupil of  Dm Sat himself, the first Elder of learning  on the
planet. He is old enough and he lives here."
     "But he's a roundhead," said Mada disappointedly.
     "Urn  Sat  has  only   just  been  proclaimed  'honorary  longface'  in
Powermania. He is equal to the Superiors amongst the Superiors."
     Mada  pushed Ave away from her,  but  clasped  his hands in hers as she
looked adoringly up at him.
     "Hurry to him! You're  a  true Faetian  and you'll be able  to convince
him."


     Bowing low, the hunchback  Kutsi Merc conducted the young Faetian  into
Dm Sat's cell.
     "Ave  Mar?  You  have  returned  to  your  teacher?"  said  the  Elder,
half-rising from his chair to greet them.
     "Yes, I have-at a most difficult moment in my life."
     "You speak as though it were a matter of life or death."
     "No!"  Ave  vigorously   shook  his  head.  "Much  more.  A  matter  of
happiness!"
     The Elder looked intently at his pupil's face.
     "So that's it! But how can I help?"
     "By  using the rights bestowed on  him by the Council of Blood, Dm Sat,
by the law of the Superiors, has the right to join together for all time Ave
Mar and she whom he loves more than life."
     "The  clear-thinking Ave Mar has chosen none other than the daughter of
Dictator  Yar  Jupi,  the  beautiful  Mada,  in  spite  of  the  obstacles,"
interposed Kutsi Merc in the flowery language of Powermania.
     "What? Roundhead Sat is to  use  the rights of the oppressors?" The old
man was outraged.
     "It is  not just a  matter of love,"  interposed Kutsi Merc again. "The
marriage of the son and  daughter of the rulers of two  continents will help
to avert a war... That is what Yar Jupi says in his teaching."
     The  cunning  Kutsi  knew  how to  convince  Um Sat.  The Elder  became
thoughtful.
     "He  talks sensibly. Though burning with shame,  I did not  reject  the
gift of the barbarians solely because I was thinking of how to avoid war."
     "Then use your rights and help us to be happy!" responded Ave.
     "What must I do?" asked the Elder.
     "The ceremony  is quite simple. Mada's nurse and Kutsi Merc will be the
witnesses."
     "Is that enough?" The Elder was amazed.
     "Yes, for the age  of Um  Sat exceeds the combined ages of the  lovers,
and he has the right to join them in wedlock."
     "So the man who created the doctrine of matter, the man who refuted the
religions of the past," said the  Elder with a smile,  "will have to perform
almost the function of an unworthy priest..."
     "And, what is more, in the shrine of a former temple," interposed Kutsi
Merc.
     "Then  let the marriage truly serve peace and  remain a secret for  the
time being," decided the scientist. "The wedding  will be announced when Ave
returns to Danjab. May it help the father to come to terms with Yar Jupi, if
the Dictator is really in the traditions of the ancient monarchs."
     "So be it!" announced the hunchback.
     "I  will  persuade my  father. He's a politician and  won't miss such a
chance,"  said Ave warmly in support. "However, the ceremony absolutely must
take place tonight."
     "Why the hurry?" said Um Sat with a frown.
     "Alas, travellers, even distinguished  ones, cannot stay for  long near
the Dictator's palace. Besides ... it was Mada's request."
     "There is  no Faetess  more  beautiful  and intelligent! She  thinks of
everything," commented Kutsi Merc.
     "Well, then..." Um Sat shrugged his  shoulders. "The shrine  is  empty.
And old men don't need such a lot of sleep."
     Ave silently embraced his teacher. Um Sat gazed sadly at him for a long
time.


     The Blood Door opened once again. Mother Lua, as usual, was waiting for
Ave and  Kutsi in the  half-ruined portico. The three of  them went into the
ancient  monastery garden,  lit now by the faint light of Lua.  The dangling
lianas  didn't look like snakes any more, they suggested the cords of costly
curtains screening off the garden. The trees resembled colonnaded galleries.
     There was a  fragrance  of  rotting  leaves  and something strange  and
gentle-perhaps the flowers that Yar Jupi used to grow with such passion.
     Mada  was waiting for her beloved and rushed to meet him as soon  as he
walked through the Blood Door.
     "Has he agreed?"
     "Urn Sat  has so far created  reactions of disintegration, but now (may
Kutsi Merc be forgiven for this!)  he will have to accomplish the opposite,"
joked the hunchback,  and  he grinned,  but quickly changed the grin into an
ingratiating smile.
     It had grown dark in the garden. The silver light  had faded. Lightning
began flashing beyond the  outer wall, casting dense black  shadows onto the
shrubbery. One of the trees seemed to leap out of the darkness and blaze up,
its white bark shining.
     A  bellowing noise came  from somewhere  far  away.  It was  as  if  an
enormous,  lumbering machine had gone out of control and had finally plunged
down into an abyss, deafening and blinding all like a disintegration blast.
     Mada huddled closer to Ave.
     It  was now totally  dark; the avenue colonnades and the tree  with the
white bark had disappeared.
     "What a thunderstorm!" whispered Mada ecstatically.
     "We'll be  soaked as we  go  round the Dread  Wall  to  the  Temple  of
Eternity," observed the hunchback.
     "Should we put it off till tomorrow, perhaps?" asked Ave cautiously.
     "Never!" exclaimed Mada. "Are we going  to be stopped by the thunder of
heaven?  As for  the rain wetting  our  clothes, my  nanny can  take care of
them."
     "Of our clothes?"  inquired Kutsi  Merc. He  held out his hand and felt
the first  raindrops fall on to his  palm. "Yes, she'll have to take care of
them."
     "I can do without that  care,"  grumbled Mother Lua. "I'd do  better to
take you there under cover."
     "What d'you mean?" asked Kutsi Merc, suddenly on the alert.
     "It's  all quite simple," explained Mada. "An old  underground  passage
leads from here to the Temple of Eternity. The priests used it once, but now
we're going to walk along it. Nanny knows everything and will open the doors
as we come to them."
     "Does the passage run from the garden?" inquired Kutsi.
     "Yes, we can go into it not far from here. Nanny will show us."
     The rain began, a downpour from the start. They all ran, stumbling over
the tree roots. Lua went  in  front, with  Kutsi,  Mada and Ave following on
behind.
     "This way! It's no darker here than outside. The old passage isn't much
to look at. I'm sorry to say," said Mother Lua as she led them further.
     "Still, it's better than in the rain," responded Kutsi.
     Ave  could  smell  the damp. When he  touched the wall,  it was wet and
sticky. With the other hand he tightly squeezed Mada's fingers.
     "Wait," came Lua's voice from in front. "I must make an effort."
     "Does the good lady need a hand in lifting something?"
     "I must concentrate."
     It turned out that Mother Lua had  to use  will-power to open a certain
door that would obey her brain biocurrents.
     The young Faetians saw  a bright rectangle  in front of them,  with Lua
and Kutsi sharply silhouetted against it.
     Mada and Ave went into a spacious underground, plastic-lined corridor.
     "Aha!" said Kutsi Merc. "The ancient priests knew their materials."
     "We turn left for the Temple of Eternity."
     Kutsi Merc stopped and felt a thick cable in red braiding.
     Mada firmly squeezed Ave's fingers in her little hand.
     The footsteps of the Faetians rang under the low ceiling.
     Ave looked back  suspiciously to where  the corridor  made  a turn. The
light  that  had automatically come on  when they appeared had already  gone
out.
     Twice the Faetians were confronted by a  blank  wall, and each time, in
response to Mother Lua's mental command, the barrier disappeared to let them
pass through.
     "I  wouldn't  like to be left  here  without our companion,"  commented
Kutsi Merc.
     "Has  the  visitor from  Danjab  no  more  to say than that?" said  Lua
reproachfully.
     The  secret passage had branches, but Lua confidently walked past them,
leading the others along a route with which she was thoroughly familiar.
     Finally, she stopped again before a blank wall and looked intently into
the centre of a spiral ornament. This was enough for the wall to divide, and
Lua let the young  Faetians go  first  with Kutsi Merc,  then went  into the
familiar shrine herself.
     Mada huddled  closer to Ave. She had not been scared of going along the
underground passage, but the ancient temple with  its shrine and a roof that
disappeared into unseen heights had a disturbing effect on her imagination.
     Something stirred in the semidarkness and a voice rang out:
     "I welcome the  happy ones! I  guessed  that because of the bad weather
you  would use the tunnel  by  which the Dictator of Power-mania came to the
session."
     Mada Jupi looked in agitation  at the tall figure of the great Elder of
learning, who was standing on a dais. She thought of  the High Priest of the
temple who used to deliver his invocations from that spot. And his voice had
echoed under the dark vaults  then as now, when Um Sat began addressing  the
young Faetians.
     The  Elder  of  learning  tactfully  performed  a  rudimentary  wedding
ceremony, ending it with the words:
     "So be it!"
     His  voice echoed and re-echoed in the  depths of the shrine, as if the
ancient priests were chanting the responses.
     Then  Um Sat  embraced  each  of  the young  Faetians  and wished  them
happiness.
     Ave wanted to take his leave of Mada, but  Kutsi intervened, exchanging
significant glances with Mother Lua.
     "Isn't it worth going by the underground passage so as to see the young
bride off? She will let us out through the Blood Door."
     "Through our Blood Door!" said Mada, looking at Ave.
     Mother Lua stood meekly beside Kutsi, as if entirely dependent on him.
     And  again Ave  acted apparently of his  own  volition, expressing  his
willingness to go by the underground passage.
     Mother Lua heaved a sigh. She had devoted her whole life to ensure that
Mada took  after her mother and not her father. What  lay in store  for  the
girl?..
     Kutsi Merc was content and did not hide it.

     Chapter Five

        BLOOD

     Yar Alt, Supreme Officer of  the  Blood  Guard, was  proud that, on his
coming-of-age, his  strength  of character  had earned him  the  name of his
maternal uncle, Yar Jupi himself.
     He lived up  to his nickname  in the contingents of the Blood Guard, to
which he had been  appointed by the Dictator. Coarse, hot-tempered, ready to
strike and even to kill, he despised the views of others and could  not bear
objections.
     That was why the Dictator had given him the more important assignments.
And it had certainly not been by  chance that Yar Alt had met  on board ship
the son of Danjab's Ruler  arriving with his secretary. Camouflaging himself
with  the rudeness typical  of the security officers, he had been "checking"
the new arrivals, having decided not to let them out of sight.
     Finally,  as Yar Alt had been expecting, the young  Faetians and  their
companions entered the shrine through a gap in the wall.
     During the improvised wedding  ceremony under the temple vaults,  apart
from the  nanny and  the secretary, there had been one invisible witness. He
had been  unable to suppress  a groan, as  if  echoing, like the officiating
priests, the Elder's cry:
     "So be it!"
     Yar Alt had failed to win "full psycho-life contact" from  Mada,  while
this foreign half-breed had achieved it without effort. In the depths of his
soul, Yar Alt considered that  he could  have  become  a  totally  different
Faetian  if  his love had  been  reciprocated.  Tenderness,  sensitivity and
goodness  would  have blossomed  in him if  the  beautiful long-face  of his
choice had not responded to him with proud disdain. That was why Yar Alt had
come to hate the world.
     And now, in fear and shame at having groaned aloud, he kept himself  in
hand so as to carry out his duty.
     He waited until Mother  Lua led  the newly-weds and the  hunchback into
the secret passage, watched as Um Sat retired  to his  cell, and  only after
that  did he  risk going to the  hidden door. He strained all his will as he
ordered the wall  to divide.  And he  sighed with relief. The wall parted to
form an opening. Yar Alt dived through it.
     The  criminals  shouldn't have gone far. The biocurrents of the Supreme
Officer of the Blood Guard were effective. He would find the intruders while
they were still  underground and not give them a  chance  to shelter  in the
palace.
     He ran along the passage, but the cursed lamps were coming on and going
out again of  their own accord. He  stopped, realising that  they would give
him away. All it needed was for one of the party to look round...
     If only  the lovers could  have  suspected what they were walking past!
The galleries of the Central Console! The heart of the disintegration war!
     Why  hadn't the alarm gone off?  Or was  it  all because  of  the brain
biocurrents of the roundhead woman whom the automatic machines recognised as
friendly,  just as  they recognised him,  the  Supreme  Officer of the Blood
Guard?
     So reasoned Yar Alt as he hurried in pursuit  of  the departing  group.
Suddenly, he stopped abruptly.
     To one side, a gallery sloped steeply downwards;  along it ran a  cable
in red  braiding. It seemed to Yar Alt  that  the light had just gone out in
this gallery, which  certainly didn't lead to the Dictator's palace. Had the
hunchback turned off for the Central Console? Why?
     Yar  Alt caught his breath. Enemies were sneaking up to the Console! It
was  not just  a matter of purity of blood,  but of a threat to the whole of
Powermania!
     Without another thought, Yar Alt also turned  off  into the gallery and
ran headlong  down the slope. He  was blocked by  a  blank  wall.  The light
switched itself on and a spiral, the symbol of the Superiors, became visible
on the smooth surface.
     Yar Alt had never been here before and did not know whether he would be
able to  open the door in the Wall. Terror and fury  made  the force  of his
gaze ten times stronger as he fixed it on the spiral. The moment  before the
automatic  machines began  working seemed  agonisingly  long.  But  the Wall
divided.  His status  as Supreme Officer of the Blood Guard had  helped. The
biocurrents of his brain were familiar to these machines too.
     Yar Alt rushed through the gap.
     After a short while, he saw the  secretary and the nanny  walking ahead
of him.
     He drew a pistol loaded with  poisoned  bullets. Even a  light  scratch
would stun a man.
     Without  warning,  Yar Alt fired  at  the hunchback from behind.  Kutsi
started, but stayed on his feet. The bullet had ricocheted off his hump into
the wall.
     Alt fired  again and  yet again.  The shock of  the  bullets threw  the
secretary onto his knees this time.
     Yar Alt slowly walked up, waiting for his enemy to breathe his last.
     But the  other,  who was lying on his back,  suddenly kicked the weapon
out of Yar Alt's hand. It clattered over the flagstones.
     Alt flung himself on  the enemy as he struggled to get  up and tried to
pin the hunchback down to the floor.
     Kutsi Merc was unarmed. He had intentionally  not brought a weapon with
him, anticipating possible searches  which could have ruined his whole plan.
Endowed with exceptional strength, he would easily have coped with a lighter
opponent had it not been for the heavy burden on his back.
     Yar Alt drew  a long stiletto that served  him as a personal antenna in
the Blood Guard communications system.  Embracing the hunchback with one arm
and breathing heavily into  his  face, he drove  the stiletto into his back.
But the point slid over something solid, slitting the cloth.
     Yar  Alt thought  only of bullet-proof armour and of nothing else. This
spelled disaster, and not only for him.
     Almost without hope of  success, Yar Alt stabbed his foe  in the chest.
Strange to  say,  the  hunchback had no  frontal  armour.  The stiletto went
straight into Kutsi's heart. His grip loosened and he fell backwards. A pool
of blood spread over the stones.
     Yar Alt  jumped  to his feet and  prodded  the hunchback with his foot.
Only then did he turn to Mother Lua.
     But she was not there. She had snatched up Alt's pistol and disappeared
during the brief struggle so as to warn Mada and save her life.
     Yar Alt ran forward and immediately came up against  the blank Wall. He
fixed a malignant  glare  on the centre  of the spiral, but it never budged.
Yar Alt realised that Mother Lua was standing on the other side of  the door
and by  effort of will was commanding the door not to open. That was why the
automatic machines were not reacting to his own command!
     A  struggle began between Yar Alt and Mother Lua. Separated by a  solid
barrier,  they glared  furiously  at  the centres  of the  two spirals.  The
programmed machines were paralysed by the opposing wills.
     Yar Alt was bathed  in drops  of sweat and his lips were  flecked  with
foam.
     It  had been easier to  kill  Kutsi Merc than to cope with  this damned
witch. He knew  that  she composed forbidden songs. Her kind  had  once been
burned at the stake.
     Finally, the Wall shuddered and parted to leave a gap, but slammed shut
again.  Yar Alt just  managed to catch sight of  the  nanny. Fortunately, it
hadn't  occurred to  her to shoot at  him. At the mere thought of  this, Yar
Alt's skin crawled. He had not noticed how exhausted she had been.
     The Wall shuddered and was  still by turns. Yar Alt ground  his  teeth.
Mother Lua's mistake had suggested a plan of  action.  He wanted very little
now: it  was  for a  gap to open for only a fraction of a second. He himself
would not, of course, be in front of it.
     The perspiration streamed into his eyes. In a wild frenzy, he continued
drilling the  centre of the  spiral with his  eyes, commanding  the Wall  to
open.  He  made ready, drawing  his left  arm back in  order  to  throw  the
stiletto.
     Mother Lua was almost losing consciousness. Her arms hung helplessly by
her sides. She knew her own life and that of  her favourite depended  on her
w