Dwer always said this mule…spider was nastier than most and warned people to stay away。 But what on Jijo could the robot have to worry about？
Another thought struck him。
My God； isn't this the direction Dwer was headed； chasing after that runaway glaver？
The machine decelerated。 Lark recognized the thick tangle of an aged mule…spider； its vines splayed across the remains of some ancient Buyur structure。
The robot's view skimmed past a pale figure； hunched on the ground； and Lark blinked。
Was that a glaver； lying in the open？ Ifni； we went to such trouble hiding them； and this machine shoots past one without noticing。
Another surprise slipped by the camera's periphery as it slowed。 A lean animal； four…footed and wiry； black fur nearly blending with the dark tangle。 The white teeth of a noor flashed briefly； chattering surprised defiance at the onrushing machine； then vanishing to one side as the robot cruised on； single…mindedly。
A noor？ Up in the mountains？ Without knowing why； Lark tasted bile。
The machine slowed to a crawling hover。 Red crosshairs converged downward toward a point throbbing with rhythms of crimson menace。
。。。 digital cognizance。。。 level nine or greater。。。 the GalSix symbols throbbed。 Little could be made out in the gloomy snarl below； except some vague flutterings near the center of the cross…hairs。 The robot must be targeting with senses other than vision。
。。。 autonomous decision。。。 terminate threat immediately。。。
Suddenly； the dim scene flashed with brilliance。 The central field blazed white as shafts of angry lightning tore into the morass； slicing the mule…spider's medusa limbs。 Boiling juices sprayed from whipping； severed vines while red targeting circles danced back and forth； seeking something that kept dodging randomly within a confined space。
Ling was reading the data…filled right…hand screen； cursing the robot's inability to make a clean kill。 So Lark felt sure he alone glimpsed a brief outline at one edge of the holio panel。 It flashed just an instant but seemed to sear his optic nerve。
One…no； two clusters of arms and legs； intermeshed among the shuddering vines； cowering from the burning fury above。
Static again filled the displays。
〃No； I can't head over there right now。 It's half a mictaar from here。 My guide and I would flounder in the dark。 It'll have to wait till…〃
Listening again； Ling sighed。 〃All right； I'll ask him。〃 She lowered her ring and turned。
〃Lark； you know this country。 Is there a trail…〃
She stopped； and stood up quickly； peering left； then right。
〃Lark？〃
She called into the night； now a velvet blackness dusted with the winking luster of this galaxy's third brightest spiral arm。
〃Lark！ Where are you？〃
Wind stirred branches overhead； brushing the forest silence。 There was no way of knowing how long it was since he had left； or in which direction。
With a sigh； Ling lifted her hand and reported the abandonment。
〃How should I know？〃 she replied to a curt query。 〃Can't blame the nervous monkey for spooking。 Never saw a robot's cut…beam at work before。 He may be halfway home by now； if he stops before the coast…
〃Yes； yes。 I know we hadn't decided about that； but it's too late now。 Hardly matters； anyway。 All he got away with are a few hints and clues。 We've got plenty more to bribe the natives with。 And there's more where he came from。〃
Asx
DISSENSION GROWS。
The mons writhes against itself like a traeki whose rings were cruelly stacked； without nurturing rapport between the married toruses。
Word arrives by galloping urrish courier from settlements downslope； where anxiety and chaos reign like despotic qheuenish empresses of old。 Some villages topple their water tanks； their grain silos； solar heaters； and windmills； claiming authority in the sacred Scrolls； overruling the rescript that our sage council sent in haste the day the ship came…a policy urging that all folk wait…and…see。
Meanwhile； others protect their barns and docks and weirs； laboring to pile concealing vegetation…and violently repelling angry neighbors who approach their precious property bearing torches and crowbars。
Should we not do better here at Gathering？ Did not the finest of the Six e together here for yearly rites of union？ Yet poison also roils in this place。
First discord…foul suspicion of our youngest sept。 Might our human neighbors be allied with invaders？ With plunderers？ If not now； could they grow tempted； in time？
Oh； dire notion！ Theirs is the highest grasp of science among the Six。 What hope have we； without their aid； ever to pierce the deceits of godlike felons？
So far； some faith has been restored by the noble example of Lester and his deputies； who swear devotion to Jijo and our Holy Egg。 Yet do not rumors and odious doubts still fly； like whirling soot； amid these gentle glades？
Dissension multiplies。 A harvest team returns from one of the deep caves where wild rewq breed； to find the cavern walls deserted； no rewq to be seen。 And the ones within our pouches languish。 They will not sup our vital fluids； nor help us share the secrets of each other's souls。
Further discord…in each race many are tempted by a siren song。 Sweet utterances by our unwele guests。 Unctuous promises； words of radeship。
And not merely words。
Do you recall； my rings； when the star…humans spread word they would heal！
Under a canopy brought over from the festival grounds…shaded by their dark； cubic outpost…they call forth the lame； sick； and hurt。 We sages can but watch； helpless and confused； as queues of our wounded brethren limp inside； then amble out elated； transformed； in some part cured。
In truth； many seemed palliated only in their pain。 But for some others…miraculous change！ Death's door is transmuted； now a portal to restored youth； vigor； potency。
What can we do； forbid？ Impossible。 Yet what profuse samplings do the healers gain！ Vials brimming with specimens of our diverse biologies。 Whatever gaps once filled their dossiers； they now know all about our strengths and weaknesses； our genes and latent natures。
Those returning from the healing； are they well…greeted？ Some call their own sept…mates traitor。 Some perceive defilement； turning away in hatred。
So we divide。 In fresh enmity； we so divide。
Are we a gathering any longer？ Are we a mons？
Did not you； my/our own third basal ring…ailing for a year with the ague known as torus plaque…did you not attempt to twist this aging pile toward that green pavilion where wonder cures are offered； though not unselfishly？ If dissension infests this entity which others call Asx； can a society of individuals cohere any better？
The heavens above have always been our dread。 But disharmony now swarms these very meadows； filling our frustrated days and nights until Jijo's soil now seems as fearsome as her sky。
Can we hope； my rings？
Tonight we do pilgrimage。 The most sage of the Six shall travail under darkness； arduously； past fuming pits and misty cliffs； to reach the place of the Holy Egg。
This time； will it answer us？ Or shall the fell silence of recent weeks go on？
Can we still hope？
There is a sensation we traeki have learned to describe only since meeting humans on Jijo。 Yet never till now have i felt this pang so terribly。 It is a desolation not well rendered in Galactic languages； which emphasize tradition and close relations； subsuming thoughts of self to those of race and clan。 But in Anglic the feeling is central and well known。 Its name is…alone。
Dwer
THEY TOOK TURNS RESCUING EACH OTHER。 It wasn't easy。 Consciousness kept threatening to own under surges of pain from his many cuts and burns。 To make matters worse； Dwer suspected he was deaf。
Rety kept stumbling； yet she would not use her arms for anything except to clutch her treasure tightly to her breast。
That prize very nearly finished them both off； a while ago； when she plunged screaming back into the maelstrom of fire and acid steam； desperately seeking remnants of her precious 〃bird〃 amid smoldering stumps and glowing wreckage of the h