"Well, it so happened that King Farko got a special dispensation from the Great Priest to send the members of Exaltanta's family to their Reward without their consent. As he prepared the ceremonies--they were to be very simple: for, after all, the royal household members weren't true believers, and would consequently need to spend a million years (at least) as Outcasts before entering into their Reward, anyhow--as he prepared the ceremonies...." "But does everyone get a Reward? Even people who don't believe?" a little girl asked, wide eyed. "Nearly everyone, my child. The Prophet was not a cruel man. Of course, people who try to Cast themselves Off never, never, never get a Reward. But others, everybody else, all get theirs. It's only a question of how long they have to wait. Sometimes, as when they're unbelievers, it may be a long, long, long time, but...." "I know that," Joey said. Martha looked up at him and sighed; she stood up. "Come with me, dear," she said. At that moment, the door flew open with a loud bang. The first mate, who had been asleep, sat bolt upright on the bed. "God damn hit!" he screamed. "My haid!" "Oh," said a crew member, who was dragging a woman by the hair, "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't know you were in here. I just came in to Cast Mary Jane Off in privacy." He waved an odd-looking instrument at Martha by way of amplification. "Hello, mummy," one of the smaller girls said to the woman. "Oh, why, hello, honey. Are you having fun?" "Oh, yes, mummy." Mary Jane looked at the crewman. "Well, Bob," she said, "I guess we'll just have to go some place else." "Well, git hout er come in, but shut that door! That noise out there is a-tearin' off my haid!" The crewman called Bob dragged the woman called Mary Jane out of the room. She pulled the door closed behind her. "Well, children," Martha said, "we ought to get back to my story. Now, King Farko, as you will remember, received a special dispensation...." * * * * * Nestir locked his door when the separation bell sounded. Having done that, he proceeded to fix himself a meal. It was a simple one, consisting only of what material he had been able to steal from the steward's department the previous night. As he ate, he reflected upon his course of action. It was, he could see, going to be difficult to justify at the Reward. But he had been a priest, and because of that he was reasonably well grounded in theological dialectics. The Festival, of course, was a fine thing. But it had its weak points. Chief among them being that the Casting Off was left to inexperienced hands, and certainly, if there was ever a time when experience was required, then the Casting Off was that time. One should be Cast Off at leisure; suffering long and deliciously. A state hero, for instance, honored by being Cast Off by one of the King's Guards, certainly died the best death imaginable.