Lo! The screw turns, yet the direction is not set

Those who teach may let learn, and those who learn, teach

When we pass beyond what is left but what we tell?

We may yet reach from beyond to turn the screw once more.

Among the scholars of the Church, who liked to use study of the stanzas as an excuse for barbecues and the consumption of beer, this was one of the minor "exhortation" stanzas, encouraging Church members to share information with each other so that Church aims could be accomplished further down the line. Direct, simple, and uncomplicated, like the stanzas encouraging good hygiene and flossing (which were generally followed) and the avoidance of fatty foods and—ironically for the alcoholic Dwellin—too much imbibing (which, given the beer-fueled cook-outs, were not). These were generally regarded as the least interesting of the prophetic poems, for much the same reasons as the layout of dietary laws in the Pentateuch failed to set afire Jewish and Christian theologians.

Right here and right now, however, Archie McClellan felt his eyes bulge and the Empathist impulse—that creepy feeling that Dwellin really did unintentionally connect with something larger, whether he meant to or not—flared in his chest like heartburn. Archie was already clearly and sickly aware that he was a dead man walking; after about the 30th time Acuna pressed that vending machine button Archie reconciled himself to the idea that the rest of his life would be counted in hours and that at the end of it he was likely to be a snack for the monstrous alien that was now asking him about his religion. And yet here was a fragmentary bit of wisdom—scrawled by a consumptive hack decades back, but even so—telling him that even when he was gone, there was still work to be done.

Archie looked back up at Takk, who was standing there, still rather too close for Archie's comfort zone. "Can I ask you a question?" Archie said.

"Yes," Takk said.

"Aren't you going to have to kill me soon?" Archie said. "Isn't that what you're watching me for?"

"I think so," Takk said.

"And you're going to do it," Archie said. "If Acuna walks through the door right now and says 'Eat him,' you're going to do it."

"Probably," Takk said.

"And yet you suddenly want to be my friend," Archie said. "Doesn't that strike you as—I don't know—kind of strange?"

"No," Takk said. "If I had known about your religious quest earlier, I would have wanted to know about it then, too."

"If you knew about it earlier, it would have gotten me killed," Archie said.

"It's going to get you killed now," Takk said.

Archie opened his mouth, and then closed it. "I have no good argument against that," he said.

"So you'll tell me about your quest," Takk said.

"I think I will," Archie said, and waved his hand over the optical control that increased the size of the book page large enough for the both of them to read.

"Have you read this?" Jean Schroeder waved an old-fashioned paper book of Dwellirt's prophecies at Rod Acuna.

"No," Acuna said. He was bored. "Most religious books are incompatible with my line of work"

"It's completely ridiculous," Schroeder said. "It's like Nostradamus, hung over and in free verse. Complete bullshit and they made a religion out of it anyway. A well-off religion, I might add."

"What do you want me to do with the geek?" Acuna said.

"I want you to get rid of him, of course," Schroeder said. "I know who he works for and I don't have any questions for him. You can add him to that other pile you have in your trunk. That one expired where you're sitting, incidentally."

Acuna shifted in his chair and looked down at the rug on the floor, which featured a large dark blotch. "You might want to get rid of the incriminating bloodstain," he said.

"In a few days I'm going to be running this joint, by which I mean the entire planet," Schroeder said. "I'm not worried about a bloodstain. Besides, we're leaving in about three hours. Narf has generously invited you and me and your flunky to come with him to Nidu for his coronation ceremony. Actually he's invited me, but it makes sense for you and your flunky to get off-planet, too, so you're coming along for the ride. And you'll even be able to pack your guns, since we'll be going on an official Nidu diplomatic vessel. Diplomatic immunity is a delightful thing."

"What about Creek and the woman?" Acuna said. "I sent you the information on where they are. How are we going to get them?"

"We aren't going to get them," Schroeder said. "The Nidu military are. The ship our friends are on just happens to make a stop at Chagfun, which is a Nidu colony. The local military will pick them up there. The military will hand them over to Narf, whose ship will make a stop at Chagfun for that purpose before heading on to Nidu. The heir apparent seems to trust Narf, but by the time Narf gets to Nidu, the ritual will have been opened to other clans. Narf is going to waltz his way right to the throne."

"That's really fascinating," Acuna said. "But I couldn't possibly give a shit. What I want is Creek."

Schroeder grinned. "Pissed off at being beat up, Rod?"

"Mildly," Acuna growled. "A broken wrist, a busted nose, and then getting the shit kicked out of me for a second time in one night because I went after him. Yeah, I'm a tad pissed. Once you have the girl, you're not going to need him anymore. I want you to give him to me."

"You're going to have your walking garbage disposal take care of him when you're done, I assume," Schroeder said.

"No," Acuna said. "Takk likes his food alive and in one piece. That's how he's going to get the geek. Creek's not going to be that lucky."

Creek followed the crew member who had retrieved him up the stairs and onto the bridge of the Neverland, and was presented to Captain Lehane, who was conferring with his navigator.

"Mr. Toshima," Lehane said, shaking his hand. "Glad you could come up for a visit."

"Thanks," Creek said. "One doesn't usually turn down an invitation by the captain to visit the bridge of a starship."

"No, I guess one wouldn't," Lehane said.

"And while I'm flattered and fascinated," Creek said, "I am wondering why I was extended such an invitation."

"Ned Left" informed me that you had agreed to fill in for our ceremony but that your luggage and uniform had been left behind, so I told him I'd help you out," Lehane said. "I'm the wrong branch of the service but some of my officers served in infantry. So I thought I'd have you drop by so I could size you up, as it were. See from which of my officers you might borrow some duds."

"Here I am," Creek said.

"Indeed," said Lehane. "Sam tells me you were with the 12th Infantry, 6th Battalion."

"I was," Creek said.

"That's a hell of a thing," Lehane said. "Not many of you made it back in one piece."

"No," Creek agreed. "No, not many of us did."

"Do you still keep in touch with any of them?" Lehane asked. "I knew Colonel Van Doren pretty well once he left the service."

Creek furrowed his brow. "I keep in touch with a couple," he said. "Who did you say you knew?"

"Colonel Van Doren," Lehane said. "Jim Van Doren."

"I don't think I knew him," Creek said. "Our colonel was Jack Medina. Tough old son of a gun. Held off rebels with his sidearm."

"That's right," Lehane said. "Sorry. Got my battalions mixed up."

"No problem," Creek said.

"Brennan," Lehane said. One of the bridge crew peeled off from his station and came to the captain. "You were in infantry," he said.

"Yes, sir," Brennan said. Lehane looked at Brennan and Creek together.

"Close enough," Lehane said. "You might need a minor alteration on the pants. I'll have the ship's seamstress come 'round to your cabin. Brennan, would you be so kind as to lend Mr. Toshima here your dress uniform?"