"But they must have had some contact with the Outsiders," Mara said.
"Sometime even before Tebron's lifetime. The Outsiders could have left
the disintegrators, and the machine that they thought was a god...."
"That's just speculation," Rynason said. "Tebron himself didn't really
know where they'd come from; they'd been passed down through the
priesthood for a long time, and within the priesthood they did have some
secrets. I suppose if I could search the race-memory long enough I might
find another nice big block there hiding that secret. But it's
difficult."
"And you may not have time," Malhomme said. "When Manning hears that the
Altar of Kor was an Outsiders machine, there'll be no way left to stop
him from slaughtering the Hirlaji."
"I'm not sure there'll be any real trouble," Rynason said.
Malhomme's lips drew back into the deep lines of his face. "There is
always trouble. Always. Whoever or whatever spoke through the machine
knew that much about us. The only way you could stop it, Lee, would be
to hold back this information from Manning. And to do that, you would
have to be sure, yourself, that there is no danger from the Hirlaji.
You're in the key position, right now."
Rynason frowned. He knew Malhomme was right--it would be difficult to
stop Manning if what he'd said about the man's push for power was true.
But could he be sure that the Hirlaji were as harmless as they seemed?
He remembered the reassuring touch of Horng's mind upon his own, the
calmness he found in it, and the resignation ... but he also remembered
the fear, and the screaming, and the hot rush of anger that had touched
him.
In the silence on the edge of the Flat, Mara spoke. "Lee, I think you
should report it all to Manning."
"Why?"
Her face was clouded. "I'm not sure. But ... when I disconnected the
wires of the telepather, Horng looked at me.... Have you ever looked
into his eyes, up close? It's frightening: it makes you remember how old
they are, and how strong. Lee, that creature has muscles in his face as
strong as most men's arms!"
"He just looked at you?" said Rynason. "Nothing else?"
"That's all. But those eyes ... they were so deep, and so full. You
don't usually notice them, because they're set so deeply in the shadows
of his face, but his eyes are _large_." She stopped, and shook her head
in confusion. "I can't really explain it. When I moved around him to the
other side, I could see his eyes following me. He didn't move,
otherwise--it was as though only his eyes were alive. But they
frightened me. There was much more in them than just ... not seeing, or
not caring. His eyes were alive."
"That's not much evidence to make you think the Hirlaji are dangerous."
"Oh, I don't _know_ if they could be dangerous. But they're not just ...
passive. They're not vegetables. Not with those eyes."
"All right," Rynason said. "I'll give Manning a full report, and we'll
put it in his hands."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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