giant's bowling alley and the ball would strike him soon and fatally.
The voice slashed through the roaring and seemed to sever it so that the
ends dropped away. But his heart still beat faster than was good for it.
"You are not of much use while you are afraid of me," the glyfa said.
"Afraid? No, in awe. That is the correct term. No. There is fear,
though not of me so much as of yourself. You are afraid of what you might
do. Which is wrong, since you have been doing what you fear you're going
to do. Too late."
How could a nonvoice chuckle? Yet, it had done so.
"No, I don't really laugh. I just evoke laughter in you. Laughter for me.
Never mind. It's too complicated to explain. Tell me why you want to speak
with me."
In one sense, the glyfa could read his mind. In another sense, it could
not. It had told him that it had read his electrical matrix, the pulsing
configuration of his neural system, when he had appeared at the Great Temple
in Tolt's capital city. It had been able to "see" him as a skeleton of
twisting lightning streaks, a storm of tiny stars and comets' tails.
It had invaded his mind and triggered certain impulses in a configuration
which had made Ramstan lust for the glyfa as he had never lusted for
anyone or anything. It had enveloped him in a globe of light, a bomb-burst
of energy which would have blinded those around him if they could have
seen it. And perhaps Benagur had seen it, and Nuoli had been touched
by it.
The glyfa had great powers, but these had certain limitations, and distance
was one of the factors modifying them. Not until the three had entered the
house of the glyfa had it been able to determine which of the three
it wanted.
"I waited for eons for one, and then I got three," the glyfa had said.
"Truly remarkable. Not at all probable. But there it was. As you Terrans
say, 'Feast or famine.'"
The glyfa had been able to converse at once with Ramstan because it knew
Urzint. But it had been compelled to "use" Ramstan's own voice. In the
interval between the first time it had "spoken" and the second, it had
learned much Terrish and Arabic. It was able to "see" the full referents
of any word or image pulsing in Ramstan's mind.
At least, that was Ramstan's explanation for the glyfa's quick learning
of the two languages. The glyfa offered none of its own.
It was evoking the proper words in the proper order from Ramstan's own mind.
In a sense, he was talking to himself. In another, he was conversing with
the glyfa. If he had been asked to define the different senses, he would
have failed.
Ramstan finally unclogged his mental throat. Subvocalizing, he said, "Here
is what's happened since I last talked to you. Or do you already know it?"
"Tell me."
Ramstan did, finding that the glyfa seemed to leap ahead of his words,
to pull out the word or the image by its roots, see the entire plant,
the roots, stein, leaves, flowers, seeds, everything in one scan of
unbelievable speed.
Strangely, the glyfa seemed more interested in the ghostly person in
the hotel than in other events. At least, it spoke of this first.
"Do you think it is, indeed, al-Khidhr?"
"I don't know what to think," Ramstan said. "It could be an exteriorized
projection of my concept of al-Khidhr. A subjective image seeming to be
objective. Or it could be . . . I don't know what."
The glyfa chuckled. By now Ramstan found this sound sinister.
"No, not menacing or conspiratorial," the glyfa said. "Secretive, perhaps.
But with good reason. In time all things that are capable of being revealed
will be revealed. But I am making sure that you are not rushed too green into
events which require for you a steady ripening, a slow and sure maturing.
"That is, if there's time. If not, then . . . Well, we'll see. This Webnite,
Wassruss, is going to give you three gifts, and
The voice slashed through the roaring and seemed to sever it so that the
ends dropped away. But his heart still beat faster than was good for it.
"You are not of much use while you are afraid of me," the glyfa said.
"Afraid? No, in awe. That is the correct term. No. There is fear,
though not of me so much as of yourself. You are afraid of what you might
do. Which is wrong, since you have been doing what you fear you're going
to do. Too late."
How could a nonvoice chuckle? Yet, it had done so.
"No, I don't really laugh. I just evoke laughter in you. Laughter for me.
Never mind. It's too complicated to explain. Tell me why you want to speak
with me."
In one sense, the glyfa could read his mind. In another sense, it could
not. It had told him that it had read his electrical matrix, the pulsing
configuration of his neural system, when he had appeared at the Great Temple
in Tolt's capital city. It had been able to "see" him as a skeleton of
twisting lightning streaks, a storm of tiny stars and comets' tails.
It had invaded his mind and triggered certain impulses in a configuration
which had made Ramstan lust for the glyfa as he had never lusted for
anyone or anything. It had enveloped him in a globe of light, a bomb-burst
of energy which would have blinded those around him if they could have
seen it. And perhaps Benagur had seen it, and Nuoli had been touched
by it.
The glyfa had great powers, but these had certain limitations, and distance
was one of the factors modifying them. Not until the three had entered the
house of the glyfa had it been able to determine which of the three
it wanted.
"I waited for eons for one, and then I got three," the glyfa had said.
"Truly remarkable. Not at all probable. But there it was. As you Terrans
say, 'Feast or famine.'"
The glyfa had been able to converse at once with Ramstan because it knew
Urzint. But it had been compelled to "use" Ramstan's own voice. In the
interval between the first time it had "spoken" and the second, it had
learned much Terrish and Arabic. It was able to "see" the full referents
of any word or image pulsing in Ramstan's mind.
At least, that was Ramstan's explanation for the glyfa's quick learning
of the two languages. The glyfa offered none of its own.
It was evoking the proper words in the proper order from Ramstan's own mind.
In a sense, he was talking to himself. In another, he was conversing with
the glyfa. If he had been asked to define the different senses, he would
have failed.
Ramstan finally unclogged his mental throat. Subvocalizing, he said, "Here
is what's happened since I last talked to you. Or do you already know it?"
"Tell me."
Ramstan did, finding that the glyfa seemed to leap ahead of his words,
to pull out the word or the image by its roots, see the entire plant,
the roots, stein, leaves, flowers, seeds, everything in one scan of
unbelievable speed.
Strangely, the glyfa seemed more interested in the ghostly person in
the hotel than in other events. At least, it spoke of this first.
"Do you think it is, indeed, al-Khidhr?"
"I don't know what to think," Ramstan said. "It could be an exteriorized
projection of my concept of al-Khidhr. A subjective image seeming to be
objective. Or it could be . . . I don't know what."
The glyfa chuckled. By now Ramstan found this sound sinister.
"No, not menacing or conspiratorial," the glyfa said. "Secretive, perhaps.
But with good reason. In time all things that are capable of being revealed
will be revealed. But I am making sure that you are not rushed too green into
events which require for you a steady ripening, a slow and sure maturing.
"That is, if there's time. If not, then . . . Well, we'll see. This Webnite,
Wassruss, is going to give you three gifts, and
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