Where are they, then, if they are gods?

Dead, like the sapphire-eyes and the vegetals and the mechanicals and the sea-lords?

No, Hresh thinks. For how can gods die? They have simply withdrawn from the world. Perhaps their own Creator has summoned them elsewhere, and they are building a new Earth for Him far away.

Or else they are still with us, nearby but invisible, biding their time, keeping themselves aloof while they await the working-out of their great plan, whatever that may be. And the hjjks, awesome though they are, are simply an aspect of that plan, not the designers and custodians of it.

Perhaps. Perhaps.

And if there is to be a new Great World, the hjjks must be part of it. We must turn to them as fellow humans, as Nialli Apuilana once had said. But now instead we are about to go to war with them. What sense does that make? What sense, what sense, what sense?

He can’t say. Nor can he sustain himself aloft any longer. His soul comes spiraling downward through the darkness, crashing toward the ground. As he falls from the skies Hresh looks toward the city that rises to meet him, and catches one final glimpse of his brother Thu-Kimnibol, proudly parading before his troops on the stadium grounds. Then he passes through some zone of incomprehensible strangeness; and when he is conscious again, he finds himself at his own desk, dazed, stunned.

His mind is in a whirl. Things are as they always have been for him. Too many questions, not enough answers.

The voice of Chupitain Stuld cut through his confusion. “Sir? Sir, I’ve brought the Tangok Seip artifacts. Sir? Sir, are you all right?”

“I — it — that is—”

She came rushing into the room and hovered before him, eyes wide with anxiety. Hresh scrambled to pull himself together. Fragments of dream circled and spun in the bedlam of his soul.

“Sir?”

He summoned all the serenity he could muster.

“A moment of reverie, is all — deep in thought—”

“You looked so strange, sir!”

“Nothing’s wrong. A moment of reverie, Chupitain Stuld. The wandering mind, very far away.”

“I could come back another time, if you—”

“No. No. Stay.” He pointed to the box she was holding. “You have them in there? Let me see. Inexcusable, that I’ve let them wait this long. Plor Killivash’s already studied them, you say?”

For some reason that produced a flurry of turmoil in her. He wondered why.

She began to lay the objects out on his desk.

There were seven of them, more or less spherical, each one small enough to be held with one hand. By their elegance of design and richness of texture Hresh knew them at once to be Great World work, each of them fashioned of the imperishable colored metals characteristic of the extraordinary craftsmen of that vanished era. The vaults of Vengiboneeza had yielded hundreds of devices like these. Some of them no one had ever learned how to operate; a few had produced one single startling effect and then had never functioned again; still others he had managed to master and use effectively for years.

Things like these were unearthed only rarely, now. This new cache was a remarkable find. It was a measure of the turmoil in his own soul that he’d left them to his assistants for so long, without bothering to examine them himself.

He looked at the seven objects but didn’t touch any of them. He knew the dangers of picking such things up without knowing which of the various protrusions on them would activate them.

“Does anybody have any idea what they do?”

“This one — it dissolves matter. If I touched this knob on the side, a beam of light would come out and dissolve everything between here and the wall. This one casts a cloak of darkness over things, a kind of veil that’s impossible to see through, so you could walk through the city and no one would notice you. And this one, it cuts like a knife, and its beam is so powerful we couldn’t measure the depths of the hole it cut.” Chupitain Stuld gave him a wary look, as if unsure that he was paying attention. She picked up another of the things. “Now, this one, sir—”

“Wait a moment,” said Hresh. “I see only seven instruments here.”

She looked troubled again. “Seven. That’s right, sir.”

“Where are the others?”

“The — others?”

“I seem to recall being told that there were eleven of these things, the day they were brought in. A couple of months ago, it was — during the rainy time, I remember — eleven Great World artifacts, that’s what you said, I’m sure of it, or perhaps it was Io Sangrais who told me—”

“I was the one, sir,” said Chupitain Stuld in a very small voice.

“Where are the other four?”

Distress had turned to fright in her, now. She moved quickly back and forth in front of the desk, moistening her lips, frantically grooming herself.

Hresh gave her just a minute jab of second sight. And felt the roiling fear within her, the shame, the contrition.

“Where are they, girl?” he asked gently. “Tell me the truth.”

“Out — on — loan—” she whispered.

“On loan? To whom?”

She stared at the floor.

“To Prince Thu-Kimnibol, sir.”

“My brother? Since when is he interested in ancient artifacts? What in the name of Nakhaba does he want with them, I wonder? How would he even have known they were here?” Hresh shook his head. “We don’t loan things, Chupitain Stuld. Especially new acquisitions that haven’t been properly studied. Even to someone like Prince Thu-Kimnibol. You know that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you authorize this loan?”

“It was Plor Killivash, sir.” A pause. “But I knew about it.”

“And didn’t tell me.”

“I thought it was all right. Considering that Prince Thu-Kimnibol is your brother, and—”

Hresh waved her into silence. “He has them now?”

“I think so, sir.”

“Why did he want them, do you know?”

She was trembling. She tried to speak, but no words would come.

Through Hresh’s mind ran Chupitain Stuld’s description of the artifacts that remained, the ones that Thu-Kimnibol hadn’t bothered to take. This one dissolves matter … This one casts a cloak of darkness … This one cuts like a knife, and its beam goes so deep we couldn’t measure it …

Gods! These were the devices that Thu-Kimnibol had chosen to leave behind. What sort of destruction were the other ones capable of working?

At this moment, he knew, Thu-Kimnibol was out drilling his army on the stadium grounds, getting ready for his war against the hjjks. It had taken him only a few days to assemble his troops.

And now he had his weapons, too.

Taniane said, “It’s not Thu-Kimnibol’s army, Hresh. It’s our army. The army of the City of Dawinno.”

“But Husathirn Mueri—”

“The gods confound Husathirn Mueri! He’s going to oppose us every step of the way, that’s obvious. But war is coming, beyond any question. And therefore I authorized Thu-Kimnibol to begin organizing an armed force.”

“Wait a minute,” Hresh said. He looked at Taniane as though she were some stranger, and not his mate of forty years. “ Youauthorized him? Not the Presidium?”

“I’m the chieftain, Hresh. We’re facing a crisis. It’s no time for long-winded debate.”

“I see.” He stared at her, scarcely believing what he heard. “And this war? Why are you so sure it’s on the way? You and Thu-Kimnibol and Husathirn Mueri too, for that matter. Is it all agreed? Has some kind of secret resolution to start a war been passed?”

Taniane was slow to reply. Hresh, waiting, sensed the same evasiveness coming from her that had emanated earlier from Husathirn Mueri, and even from Chupitain Stuld. They were all trying to hide things from him. A web of deception had been woven here while he slept, and they were desperately eager to keep him from penetrating it now.