tube. "We can take David to Tube Four—that's the closest exit. But a big section of Tube Four has 88 William Greenleaf CLARION 89
fallen down, too, so we'll have to travel on foot from there."
"Let's go," Karyn called back to them. They picked their way through the vegetation and crumbled remains of domed structures, following a course that was parallel to Tube One. The tube was about five meters off the ground, held up by slender pylons that seemed to be spaced too far apart to give enough support. Signs of deterioration were visible on the outer surface of the curved wall—dark splotches here and there and a few ripples where the metal had begun to sag. If Selmer was right about the age of the ruins, the tube had hung here above the ground for at least fifty thousand years. Paul gave the Tal Tahir engineers a mental nod for that. The domed structures had not fared as well; most of them in this area had collapsed, and thousands of years of exposure to the elements had caused the pinkish construction material to crumble into small pebbles that crunched underfoot. Here and there a section of curved wall had held together and jutted up through the vegetation.
Karyn called a halt at an intersection where another tube led off at a right angle from Tube One.
"David's Tube," Selmer said to Paul. He pointed at another, much narrower tube that came out of the side of the intersecting tubes and spiraled to the ground. "That's the access port." Karyn and Jacque had stopped at the bottom of the smaller tube. It flared out as it neared the ground, presumably to form an entryway. The ground was lighter in color around it, and Paul realized there had once been pavement at the entrance. Now vegetation crowded the opening. Fragments of something that might have been a door clung to the edges.
Karyn and Jacque went through first, then Paul and Dorland. There were steps inside the tube, gritty but free of debris. Narrow, though—Paul had to keep a tight grip on the railing that curved up along the tube at hip level. The steps seemed sturdy enough, although Paul felt the entire structure shift slightly at one point. He could climb without ducking his head, but just barely. By the time the light had faded with the first turn of the spiral, he was fighting a growing feeling of claustrophobia. He felt better when he emerged into the relative openness of the main tube.
"Careful here," Karyn warned.
The tube was about four meters in diameter, and unexpectedly bright from sunlight that poured through oval ports spaced every few meters on the upper curve. Paul realized that the access port had delivered them to a narrow platform about two meters above the curved floor.
"Karyn says they used to have vehicles that ran the tubes," Selmer said. "We think this is where they boarded."
Along each side, about a meter above the floor, were rails the thickness of a man's arm. The floor itself was cut with two parallel grooves, now mostly filled with thick dust.
Karyn retrieved the fartalker from her belt pouch and flipped it open. The call signals weren't elaborate. When the device beeped, Karyn said,
"Sabastian?"
A moment passed. Then: "Here."
Karyn gave him a progress report in a few brief sentences, then closed the fartalker and returned it to her pouch.
"Let's move." She jumped nimbly down to the floor. Paul landed awkwardly on the curved surface. He turned to help Dorland, but found Dorland already beside him.
They walked down the tube for twenty minutes 90 William Greenleaf
before they reached another intersection with an access port. Karyn went through without pausing. Paul dropped back to walk next to Selmer.
"How long will we stay in this tube?" he asked.
"About an hour."
Paul's eyes went to Dorland, who lagged a few paces behind Karyn. "Tell me about the Sons of God. Sabastian said they'd be guarding the temple. But if they're young boys—"
"Young, but dangerous," Selmer said. "They're initiated when they're fifteen. But only if they're good enough. The brightest, the best in physical shape—those are the ones they take."
"How many are there?"
"About twenty-five. Only twenty have been trained for combat, though. Elder Jacowicz trains them himself. First they leam how to fight with dart guns and knives."
"Sounds primitive."
"Maybe so, but the boys are good. And the darts have poisoned tips. If one of them touches you—" He snapped his fingers and grinned. "But we have a few surprises of our own." He lifted his arm and pulled back the sleeve of his shirt to reveal a long-bladed knife strapped between wrist and elbow.
"You'd use that on a young boy?"
Selmer pulled the sleeve back down. "I don't know. But if I did, I'd be doing him a favor. High Elder Brill has told them how wonderful their existence will be beyond the Far Peaks if they lose their lives fighting for Lord Tern. Supposedly it was Lord Tern's idea to train them and organize them."
"For what reason?"
"To patrol Fairhope and make sure everyone stays pious. If they can track us down in the meantime, so much the better."
They walked for a while in silence. Then Paul
CLARION 91
asked: "The ceremony that initiates them into the Sons of God—that's semarch?"
"Yeah, but it's more complicated than just an initiation. It's based on something the Tal Tahir did with their young. We don't understand all of it, but we know it's supposed to bring about a change in the boys themselves."
"A change?"
"That's the theory. As far as I can see, all it does is turn nice young boys into murdering scum. But Karyn says the Tal Tahir ceremony was a transition for the young. According to her, it was quite a big deal. The young were special to the Tal Tahir."
"Transition to adulthood," Paul suggested. He'd heard of similar concepts that had carried over from primitive Terran cultures.
"Maybe," Selmer said.
Silence fell over them again. Ahead of them, the others walked steadily, footsteps ringing hollowly inside the tube.
"Brill and Jacowicz are brainwashing the boys," Selmer said at last. "We haven't found a way to counter it. Boys are turning in their own families as heretics and praying to Lord Tern while their parents die on the God Wall." Selmer paused to take a deep breath. "The next generation will be monsters, even if the eldership changes. That's why we have to get rid of the Holy Order now, and get the Tal Tahir completely out of our lives. That's the only way Clarion will survive."
"Five of you will save the planet?" Selmer offered him a crooked grin. "Maybe not, but we'll die trying."
Probably, Paul thought. "I've seen the God Wall, and you told me about the Sons of God and the punishment for disagreeing with the Holy Order. Why don't more people turn against the Holy Order? You said there are only ten deacons and ten 92 William Greenleaf
elders, and about twenty Sons of God. Why don't the people of Fairhope throw them out?" Selmer nodded. "Seems simple enough. But it isn't. We've tried to get people to help us. They're afraid, of course. But that isn't what keeps them back. High Elder Brill holds a spell over them."
"A spell?"
"You'll see what I mean if you ever attend one of his Godsday services. Colored banners, music from those infernal priams—and High Elder Brill standing up there in his great robes and his arms thrust out—" He shook his head. "It's quite a show, and he uses it to lay a spell. I've even felt it—inside, you know? He starts chanting Lord Tern's latest revelation, and it all seems to grow in your mind. Like—" He broke off, and his eyes focused on Paul.
"Like it's the .truth. You want to believe in the power of Lord Tern."
Paul thought of Dorland on the stage, weaving his lights and music over the audience. He shook off a sudden chill.
"Lord Tern, the protector," Selmer went on.
"Sabastian has a theory. He thinks High Elder Brill keeps all our lives so miserable and uncertain that we need a security symbol to cling to—and Lord Tern is that symbol."