"Why should Bákh permit such flouting of his desires?"
"I do not know, Your Reverence. Your question has given generations of Terran theologians deep concern, and no fully satisfactory answer has yet transpired. Does the religion of Bákh accept the philosophy of Kurdé the Wise in matters of logic?"
The priest's antennae rose with surprise. "Know you the words of Kurdé?"
"I have read some of his treatises," said Marot. "He can be compared to a philosopher on Terra, one Aristoteles, who flourished centuries ago. Both sages found that a statement of fact cannot be both true and false at once. Does the doctrine of Bákh agree with that?"
"Aye, it doth. But what hath this to do with the question of extinction?"
"This, Your Reverence. If men of science find the remains of a creature, and diligent exploration of the planet fails to find any living specimen thereof, then we must infer that extinction has indeed taken place. In such a case, the doctrines of Bákh must be reinterpreted in the light of this discovery. Following Kurdé, a beast cannot be both extant and extinct at once. Is it not so, sir?"
"Is there not the possibility," said Behorj slowly, "that these petrified bones be not the remains of living creatures, but shapes formed by natural causes—the inherent generative powers of nature? Or perhaps they have been lodged in the rocks by evil spirits that serve the demon Yesht, in order to deceive the faithful?"
Marot shrugged. "When your world has been completely explored and studied and both its living forms and those found fossil have been catalogued, then perhaps the answers to these questions will transpire. Meanwhile, let Your Reverence be assured that we Terrans have no desire to disturb established doctrine."
As the leaden gray of the overcast darkened, distant thunder rumbled. An attendant approached and bowed. "Your Reverence, if we fain would reach the other Terran camp without a soaking, we had best move on."
"All in good time," said Behorj, waving the servitor away.
"Do Terran doctrines of the Creation agree with the Truth of Bákh?"
"If Your Reverence will tell me the tenets of your faith, perhaps I can judge."
"The Book of Bákh reads thus: 'In the beginning, chaos abounded. Wearying of confusion, Bákh gathered all the chaos into a single lump, which it compressed down to a size no greater than the head of a pin. Then it spake a magical word, and the pinhead burst, casting all the matter of the universe far and wide to form stars, planets, and all other heavenly bodies'."
"Why, yes!" said Marot. "It is a belief held in esteem among Terran astronomers. It is the Doctrine of the Great Explosion— in Master Reith's native tongue, the 'Big Bang'."
Lightning flared purple among the lowering clouds, and thunder rolled closer. Behorj said: "I fear we must part, much as I have enjoyed this discourse. I shall report your piety and humility to the High Priestess, good my Doctor."
Reith and the Frenchman rose and bowed as the aged priest got slowly to his feet and, supported by his staff, tottered back to his litter. They silently watched as the procession formed up and started up the slope.
"Whew!" said Reith. "You sure handled that one, Aristide. Doukh! Pack up these chairs and table, and quickly, please."
"I feared the priest would ask me something really dangerous," said Marot, "like creation versus evolution. I have not actually read Kurde; only an article about him in a French journal. So I was—how do you say—buffing?"
"Bluffing."
"Thank you. We can thank Bákh for the coming storm, which sent the priest on his way. At least Bákh, unlike the Judaeo-Christian God, seems to have been a conservationist."
"Shall we load your specimen and start despite the rain?"
"I wish we could, but I do not think that practical. This clay, when wet, becomes extremely slippery; and if we were caught in a downpour along the road, we should probably get lost."
"Hey!" said Reith. "I've got to untie Alicia. She'll be mad enough to scratch my eyes out, but she'll get over it by tomorrow. Here comes the rain!"
A few big drops spattered as Reith peered up the slope to make certain that the Bákhites were out of sight. Reassured, he walked briskly towards the larger tent.
"Holà!" cried Marot. "We have more visitors, down along the river. I think I see Foltz at their head."
Reith whipped around. Foltz and nine mounted Krishnans were galloping along the north bank of the Zora, their sombreros flopping. Behind them fluttered yellow rain capes of some sort of waxed cloth.
"They're out for blood," muttered Reith. "Damn! Alicia was right; we should have killed that skite."
As the rain thickened to a downpour, Doukh and Girej exchanged a few words, sprang to their feet, and ran away downstream.
Marot handed Reith his sword but shook his head. 'Two cannot fight ten. One must be realistic."
"We can take a couple with us," grated Reith. "Don't trust them, whatever they say. They'd rather kill us without resistance, but kill us they will."
Now the riders were upon them. The column swerved to one side and coiled around itself. Reith and Marot stood at the center of a ring of galloping ayas, from whose hooves flew clods of russet mud.
"Halt!" shouted Foltz. The Krishnans pulled up, their animals skidding on the wet clay.
"Do you give up?" said Foltz.
"No," said Reith. The rain fell harder, running off the brims of the riders' hats like ragged veils.
Foltz made a hand signal. Four Krishnans dismounted and unstrapped crossbows from their saddles, cocked them, and placed bolts in the grooves. They pointed their weapons at Reith and Marot.
"Surrender!" barked Foltz.
Reith muttered: "Guard my back!" He hurled himself straight at Foltz, his sword extended before him. He had not gone three strides when a lariat snaked out of the air and looped around Reith's legs, bringing him down prone in the mud. Several Krishnans piled on him, punching and kicking.
"Tie them up!" said Foltz.
Marot yelled angrily as he, too, was roped. Reith's wrists and ankles were lashed together. Foltz dismounted.
"Master Foltz!" cried one of the Krishnans on foot. "Come see this!"
By craning his neck, Reith perceived that the Krishnan who spoke was standing at the larger tent. Foltz hurried over. Presently he emerged leading Alicia, who was rubbing her arms. Foltz dragged the girl to where Reith lay trussed and kicked him in the ribs.
"For this," he said, "I'm going to kill you, Reith." He addressed Marot. "I passed your dig, Aristide. You'll never ruin my career with false inferences from scattered finds!" To his Krishnans he said: "Find me a hammer!"
"À dieu ne plaise!" said Marot in a tearful voice. "He means to break up my specimen!"
Someone handed Foltz a geologist's hammer and the Marsh pick, and he started towards the dig. Alicia walked with him, pulling at his arm and arguing; but Reith could not hear the words over the chatter of the Krishnans and the drumming of the rain.
Some Krishnans followed Foltz; others remained to guard the captives. The rain-muffled sounds of pounding rock came to Reith's ears.
"This time," muttered Marot, "we must kill Foltz when chance permits. I am a man of peace; but to destroy scientific knowledge is worse than to murder a human being."
"Chance is unlikely to permit," muttered Reith. "Lish was right. It's one of her more irritating traits."
"What is?"
"Being right, about killing that bleep."
"I know, my friend. But it is also my fault."
"How? I don't see—"
"If only I had hit him with the pointed end, he would now be a rigid."
"A what? Oh, you mean a stiff."
"Ah, yes. We could have quietly buried him ..."