“It isn’t exactly religion,” Copper said. “It’s more like history, we learn it to remember that we were once a great race--and that we may be again. Someday there will come a male, a leader to bring us out of bondage, and our race will be free of dependence on men. There will be pairings again, and freedom to live as we please.” She looked thoughtfully at Kennon. “You might even be the one--even though you are human. You’re different from the others.” “You’re prejudiced.” Kennon smiled. “I’m no different. Well--not very different at any rate.” “That is not my thought,” Copper said. “You are very different indeed. No man has ever resisted a Lani as long as you have.” Kennon shook his head. “Let’s not go into that now. What are these redes?” “I do not remember them all,” Copper apologized. “I was--” “You’ve said that before. Tell me what you do know.” “I remember the beginning fairly well,” she said. “It goes back to the time before Flora when everything was nothing and the Master Himself was lonely.” Without warning her voice changed to a rhythmic, cadenced chant that was almost a song. Her face became rapt and introspective as she rocked slowly from side to side. The rhythm was familiar and then he recognized it--the unintelligible music he had often heard coming from the barracks late at night when no men were around--the voiceless humming that the Lani sang at work. First there was Darkness--starless and sunless Void without form--darker than night Then did the Master--Lord of Creation Wave His right hand, saying, “Let there be light!” Verse, Kennon thought. That was logical. People remember poetry better than prose. But the form was not what he’d normally expect. It was advanced, a style that was past primitive blank verse or heroic pentameter. He listened intently as Copper went on. Light filled the heavens, bright golden glowing, Brought to the Void by His wondrous hand; Then did the Master--Lord of Creation-- Nod His great head, saying, “Let there be land!” Air, land, and water formed into being, Born in the sight of His all-seeing eyes; Then did the master--Lord of Creation-- Smile as He murmured, “Let life arise!” All of the life conceived by the Master, Varied in shape as the grasses and birds; Hunters and hunted, moveless and moving, Came into form at the sound of His words. “That’s a great deal like Genesis,” Kennon said with mild astonishment. “Where could you have picked that up?” “From the beginning of our race,” Copper said. “It came to us with Ulf and Lyssa--but what is Genesis?” “A part of an ancient religion--one that is still followed on some of the Central Worlds. Its followers call themselves Christians. They say it came from Earth, the mother-world of men.” “Our faith has no name. We are children of Lyssa, who was a daughter of the Master.”