Pardero said somewhat ponderously: "You recognize me then?"

"Yes, Your Force, now that I have spoken with you. I admit to confusion; your presence has altered in a way which I hardly know how to explain. You seem, shall we say, more mature, more controlled, and of course your foreign garments enhance these differences. But I am certain that I am right." The clerk peered in sudden doubt. "Am I not, Your Force?"

Pardero smiled coolly. "How could you demonstrate the fact one way or the other without my assurance?"

The clerk muffled an exclamation. Muttering under his breath he brought to the counter a second leather-bound volume, twice the size of the ledger. He glanced peevishly toward Pardero, then turned thick pages of pale brown parchment.

Pardero asked: "What book is that?"

The clerk looked up from the pages, and now his gray old lips sagged incredulously. "I have here the Great Rhune Almanac. Are you not familiar with it?"

Pardero managed a curt nod. "Show me the folk who occupied the Hyperion suite."

"Inexorable Force, I was about to do so." The clerk turned pages. On the left were genealogical charts, ladders, linkages, and trees, indited in rich inks of various colors; on the right photographs were arranged in patterns relative to the charts: thousands upon thousands of names, an equal number of likenesses.

The clerk turned pages with maddening deliberation. At last he halted, pondered a moment, then tapped the page with his finger. "The lineage of Scharrode."

Pardero could restrain himself no longer. He turned the volume about and studied the photographs.

Halfway down the page a pale-haired man of middle maturity looked forth. His face, angular and bleak, suggested an interesting complexity of character. The forehead might have been that of a scholars the wide mouth seemed composed against some unwelcome or unfashionable emotion, such as humor. The superscription read: Jochaim, House of Benbuphar, Seventy-ninth Kaiark.

A green linkage led to the still face of a woman, her expression unfathomable.

The caption read: Alferica, House of Jent. Below, a heavy maroon line led to the countenance of an unsmiling young man: a face which Pardero recognized as his own. The caption read: Efraim, House of Benbuphar, Kang of the Realm.

At least I now know my name, thought Pardero. I am Efraim, and I was Kang, and now I am Kaiark. I am a man of high rank! He looked up at the clerk, surprising a shrewd and intent scrutiny. "You are curious," said Efraim. "There is no mystery. I have been off-planet and have just returned. I know nothing of what has happened in my absence. The Kaiark Jochaim is dead?"

"Yes, Your Force. There has been uncertainty and confusion, so I understand. You have been the subject of concern, since now, of course, you are the Eightieth Kaiark, and the allowable lapse has almost transpired."

Efraim nodded slowly. "So now I am Kaiark of Scharrode." He returned to the almanac, conscious of the clerk's gaze.

The other faces on the page were three. From Jochaim a second green line descended to the face of a handsome dark-haired woman with a pale high forehead, blazing black eyes, a keen high-bridged nose. The caption identified her as Kraike Singhalissa. From Singhalissa vermilion lines led first to a dark-haired young man with the aquiline features of his mother: Kang Destian, and a girl, dark-haired and pale, with pensive features and a mouth drooping at the corners, a girl in fact of rather remarkable beauty. The caption identified her as the Lissolet Sthelany.

Efraim spoke in a voice he tried to keep matter-of-fact: "What do you recall of our visit here to Port Mar?"

The clerk reflected. "The two trismets, of Scharrode and Eccord, arrived in concert, and in general conducted themselves as a single party. The younger persons visited New Town, while their elders transacted business. Certain tensions became evident. There followed a discussion of the visit to New Town, of which several of the older persons disapproved. Most exercised were the Kraike Singhalissa, and the Kaiark Rianlle, who thought that the expedition lacked dignity. When you failed to appear by isp 25 of the Third Cycle, everyone felt concern; evidently you had failed to apprise anyone of your departure."

"Evidently," said Efraim. "Did mirk occur during our visit?"

"No; there was no mirk."

"You heard no remarks, you recall no circumstances which might explain my departure?"

The clerk looked puzzled. "A most curious question, Your Force! I remember nothing of consequence, though I was surprised to hear that you had acquainted yourself with that off-world vagabond." He sniffed. "No doubt he took advantage of your condescension; he is known as a persuasive rogue."

"Which off-world vagabond is this?"

"What? Do you not remember exploring New Town with the fellow Lorcas?"

"I had forgotten his name. Lorcas, you say?"

"Matho Lorcas. He consorts with New Town trash; he is fugleman for all these sebal cretins at the university."

"And when did Kaiark Jochaim die?"

"Soon after his return to Scharrode, in battle against Gosso, Kaiark of Gorgetto. You have returned opportunely. In another several days you would no longer be kaiark, and I have heard that Kaiark Rianlle has proposed a trisme to unite the realms of Eccord and Scharrode. Now that you are returned, conditions may be altered." The clerk turned pages in the almanac. "Kaiark Rianlle is an intense and determined man." The clerk tapped a photograph. Efraim saw a handsome distinguished face, framed by a casque of shining silver ringlets. The Kraike Dervas, looked forth blankly; her face seemed to lack distinctive character. The same was true of the Lissolet Maerio, who stared forth expressionlessly, but who nonetheless displayed a youthful if rather vacuous prettiness.

The clerk asked cautiously: "Do you plan to stay with us, Force?"

"I think not. And I wish you to say nothing whatever of my return to Marune. I must clarify certain circumstances."

"I quite understand, Force. Thank you very much indeed!" - this last for the ten ozols which Efraim had placed on the counter.

Efraim emerged from the hotel into a melancholy umber. He walked slowly back down the Avenue of Black Jangkars, and coming once more to the square he now took time to walk around, and with awe and wonder investigated the shops. Could there exist anywhere in all Alastor Cluster a richer concentration of the arcane, the esoteric, the special? And Efraim wondered what had been his own fields of erudition, his own unique virtuosities. Whatever they were, he retained none of them; his mind was a blank.

Somewhat mournfully he proceeded down the Street of Brass Boxes to the river.

New Town appeared quiet. Festoons of lights still glowed along the riverfront, but the beer gardens and cafes lacked animation. Efraim turned away, walked up the Avenue of Strangers to the Outworld Inn. He went to his chamber and slept.

He dreamt a series of vivid dreams and awoke in a flush of excitement. After a moment he tried to reform the shattered images into focus so that he might grasp the meanings which had marched across his sleeping mind. To no avail. Composing himself, he slept once more until a gong announced the hour of breakfast.

1. These are the modes recognized by the folk of Port Mar. Both the Majars and the Rhunes make more elaborate distinctions.

The progression of the modes is rendered complex by reason of the diurnal rotation of Marune, the revolution of Marune around Furad,the motion of Furad and Osmo around each other, the orbital motions of Madder and Cirse, around each other and jointly around the Furad-Osmo system. The planes of no two orbiting systems are alike.

The Fwai-chi, who lack all knowledge of astronomy, can reliably predict the modes for as far in the future as anyone cares to inquire.