"Eh? What's that?" Gawroi, startled, looked down at the reclining man. He had an impulse to kick the smirking face. Then he calmed himself with an effort and said, "But that's ridiculous! I have reason to believe that the man who calls himself Matlin is actually an Earthman named Rhodes, a victim of amnesia, suffered in the quake. Rhodes was a colleague of mine, you see, and...." "I hate Matlin!" Felg said in a soft but hate-filled voice. "There's a brother to my hate in this room, I know there is, and nothing you can say will hide it. But don't you see, Gawroi? You don't have to tell me about your hatred. You can keep it secret. The important fact is, you hate. You want to kill this man. I hate him. I want to destroy him. I hate that man." "Rhodes...." began Gawroi mildly. "Rhodes? All right, all right, Rhodes. Maybe Matlin _is_ an Earthman somehow wearing purple skin. I don't care. It means nothing, nothing. Together, if we can find Matlin out there, in Balata 'kai...." * * * * * Gawroi was thinking: perhaps I can use this man's hatred. Because now that the Five Bureau had seen fit to call in the police, it was very dangerous. The police could be a problem. The police did not work secretly. Whatever the police did would be open to public scrutiny. So, if the police caught Matlin-Rhodes, he might escape with his life--and even his secret. The secret! The knowledge Matlin-Rhodes carried around in his head, lost to the world, lost even to himself--that was important! Rhodes had said it was _The Book of the Dead_. The real _Book of the Dead_. Now, Gawroi and any loyal Kedaki knew better; it was not _The Book of the Dead_; it was a fantastically clever forgery; and it could bring the multiple hells of uncertainty to Kedak if Rhodes were given the chance to find where he had hidden it and the chance to make its contents public. Rhodes had told him about it. "_The Book of the Dead_, Gawroi," he had said, before the quake. "I'll tell you about this holy of holies of yours, Gawroi, and if I'm irreverent, I can't help being irreverent. Man, look around you! Must the lowborn remain lowborn, with no chance to better themselves, generation after generation? Do you really need human footstools to support the soles and heels of your vanity? They thought so for five thousand years, and they gave you a legacy. They gave you _The Book of the Dead_, with its lies and exaggerations and fabrications and deceit. Reincarnation! The writers of that book didn't know anything more about reincarnation than I do! But the lowborn swallowed their story for five thousand years. Well, it's time this stopped...." And Gawroi had said, "What's it your business? You, an Earthman?" "Sure, I'm an Earthman," Rhodes had answered. "But I'm a scientist first. I seek the truth, Gawroi, and I've found the truth. It won't be hidden much longer." "Hidden?" Gawroi had asked incredulously. "It's hidden?"