“It is an odd similarity,” Kennon said. “But other races have had stories of the Creation. And possibly there may be another explanation. Your ancestors could have picked this up from Alexander’s men. They came from Earth originally and some of them could have been Christians.” “No,” Cooper said. “This rede is long before Man Alexander. It is the origin of our world, even before Ulf and Lyssa. It is the first Book--the Book of the God-spell. Man Alexander came in the sixth Book--the Book of Roga.” “There’s no point in arguing about it,” Kennon said. “Go on--tell me the rest.” “It’s going to be a long story,” Copper said. “Even though I have forgotten some of it, I can chant the redes for hours.” Kennon braced his back against one of the fat tires of the jeep. “I’m a good listener,” he said. She chuckled. “You asked for this,” she said--and took up the verses where she had left off. And Kennon learned the Lani version of creation, of the first man and woman, cast out of Heaven for loving each other despite the Master’s objection, of how they came to Flora and founded the race of the Lani. He learned how the Lani grew in numbers and power, how they split into two warring groups over the theological point of whether Ulf or Lyssa was the principal deity, how Roga the Foolish opened Lyssa’s tower to find out whether the Ulfians or Lyssans were right, and brought the Black Years to Flora. He heard the trial of Roga and the details of his torture by the priests of Ulf and the priests of Lyssa--united by this greatest sacrilege. And he heard the Lani version of the landing of Alexander’s ship and man’s conquest of Flora. It was a story of savagery and superstition, of blood and intolerance, of bravery and cowardice, of love and beauty. Yet through it all, even through the redes that described the Conquest, there was a curious remoteness, a lack of emotion that made the verses more terrible as they flowed in passionless rhythm from Copper’s lips. “That’s enough!” Kennon said. “I told you you wouldn’t like it.” “It’s horrible. How can you remember such things?” “We begin to learn them as soon as we can talk. We know the redes almost our entire lives.” Copper was silent for a moment. “There’s lots more,” she said, “but it’s all about our lives since the Man Alexander--the old one--took possession of us. And most of the newer redes are pretty dull. Our life hasn’t changed much since the men came. The Book of Man is boring.” Copper sighed. “I have dared a great deal by telling you these things. If the others knew, they would kill both of us.” “Then why tell me?” he asked. “I love you,” she said simply. “You wanted to know--and I can deny you nothing.”