“I will do what the Eistaa orders,” Kerrick said, not understanding, but quick to agree.

“That is correct. You will do as I order. You will never speak of this order — for if you do you are dead. Now — here is the lie you must speak, and you must speak it in a very excited way. You must say — ‘There, in the trees, an ustuzou, I saw it!’ Those are the words. Now repeat them.”

“There in the trees I saw an ustuzou.”

“Good enough. Do not forget that. And speak it only when I order you to. I will make a motion like this.”

Kerrick agreed happily. It was easy enough to do, though he could not see the reason for it. The threats had been real enough though so he made a special effort not to forget the words and the sign, muttering them to himself as he walked away through the city.

Many days had passed since Kerrick had last seen Enge. He rarely even thought of her now for his new-found freedom occupied every moment of his waking day. At first he had been hesitant to venture out alone and even took pleasure in the dumb presence of Inlènu* as some measure of security. When he did leave his room he very quickly discovered how stratified Yilanè social structure really was. He quickly came to understand that his position was somewhere near the top, since he was seen often in the Erstaa’s presence, sitting close to her. For the nameless fargi this was evidence enough of how high he ranked above them and, crude as it was, this respect was represented in the way they addressed him.

When he walked through the green corridors he saw how those fargi with the intelligence and ability to master their language were quickly slotted into city life. They became guards, food preparers, slaughterers, work gang supervisors, agriculturists, a wealth of occupations about which he knew little. With these Yilanè he spoke in a neutral manner, taking them as equals, or slightly lower, and this was readily accepted.

Respectful speaking he saved for those who were the leaders. Their position was obvious, though what they did was not always as clear, since they were trailed by aides and assistants, these followed in turn by fargi eager to be called upon, anxious to find a fixed status in the order of the city.

With so much to see Kerrick had very little time to miss Enge’s daily visits. The city was an ant’s nest of industry and occasionally he wished that she were there to explain some of the more puzzling aspects of life in Alpèasak. He asked after her a few times, but the curt dismissal of his question taught him not to follow that subject any further. But the response made him curious. When Enge and Vaintè had talked together it had been as equals. So why this bias against even mentioning her name? He considered, then rejected, questioning Vaintè about her whereabouts. The Eistaa made it very clear that she was the one who began and terminated conversations.

He saw Enge again strictly by chance. He was near the ambesed, where Vaintè had dismissed him from her presence, when there was a stirring of excitement among the fargi. They were asking questions of each other and all hurrying in the same direction. Curious, he followed after them just in time to see four Yilanè go by, carrying a fifth one. He could not get close in the press and decided not to draw any attention by ordering them aside. He was about to leave when the same four Yilanè returned, walking slowly now, mouths agape. Their skins were splotched with dirt, their legs caked with red mud. Then Kerrick saw that one of them was Enge. He called out and she turned to face him. She was attentive, but did not speak.

“Where have you been?” he asked. “I have not seen you.”

“My language skills are no longer needed, so my meetings with you are ended. I work now in the new fields.”

“You?” There was astonishment, even dismay, lack of understanding with the word.

“I.” The other three had stopped when she did and she signaled them to continue on, asking Kerrick to do the same. “I must return to work.”

She turned away and he hurried up beside her. There was a mystery here that he dearly wanted to solve, but he did not know how to begin.

“The one that you carried here. What happened?”

“A serpent bite. There are many where we work.”

“Why you?” They were not overheard now as they walked; the plodding Inlènu* did not count. “You talk to the Eistaa as one equal to another. Yet you now do work better done by the lowest fargi. Why?”

“The reason is not easy to tell. And I have been forbidden by the Eistaa to speak of it to any Yilanè.”

Even as she spoke the words Enge realized the ambiguity of meaning that they contained. Kerrick was not a Yilanè. She indicated Inlènu*. “Order that one to walk ahead of us, to follow those three.” As soon as this had been done Enge turned to Kerrick and spoke with an intensity he had never seen before.

“I am here, these others are here, because we have strong personal beliefs that those who rule do not agree with. We have been ordered to abandon them — but we cannot. For once you have discovered the truth you cannot turn away from it.”

“What truth are you talking about?” Kerrick asked in puzzlement.

“The burning, disturbing truth that the world and all things in it contain more than can be easily seen. Do you ever think of these things?”

“No,” he answered quite honestly.

“You should. But you are young — and not a Yilanè. I have puzzled about you since you first started to speak, and your existence is still a puzzle to me. You are not a Yilanè, yet you are not a bestial ustuzou since you can speak. I don’t know what you are or how you fit into the scheme of greater things.”

Kerrick was beginning to be sorry that he had found Enge. Little of what she said made any sense to him. But now that she was speaking, for her own benefit more than his, she could not be stopped.

“Our belief must be true because there is a power in it that passes the comprehension of the nonbeliever. It was Ugunenapsa who came first to this understanding, spent her life ordering her mind, forcing herself to understand. To bring a new thing into the world where none had been before. She talked to others about her belief and they laughed at her. Word reached the Eistaa of her city about her strange ways and she was called before the Eistaa who commanded her to speak. And she did. She spoke of the thing within all of us that cannot be seen, the thing that enables us to speak and separates us from the unthinking animals. Animals do not have the thing within which is why they cannot speak. Therefore speaking is the voice of the thing within and that thing within is life and the knowledge of death. Animals have no knowledge of life or death. They are, then they aren’t. But the Yilanè know — and now you know. Which is the great puzzle that I must grapple with. Who are you? What are you? Where do you fit into the design?”

Enge turned to face Kerrick, looked into his eyes as though she might find the answer to her question there. But there was nothing that he could say in answer, and she realized that.

“Someday you may know,” she said. “Now you are too young. I strongly doubt if you can comprehend the wonder of the vision that Ugunenapsa had, a vision of a truth that she could explain to others. And the proof as well! For she angered the Eistaa who ordered her to set aside these false beliefs and live as all Yilanè have done since the egg of time. Ugunenapsa refused and thereby put her beliefs ahead of her city and the commands of her Eistaa. The Eistaa saw disobedience and stripped her of her name, ordered her from the city. Do you know what this means? No, you cannot. A Yilanè cannot live without her city and her name once she has attained it. To leave is to die. Since the egg of time a Yilanè turned away from her city has suffered a deadly change. The rejection is so strong that the Yilanè collapses instantly, quickly falls unconscious and soon dies. It was always that way.”