Chapter VI

"Listen," said Matlin. "You don't have to come with me."

"You told me to."

"That was before."

They had walked a long time through the hot damp stillness of the Kedaki night. They had not spoken. Matlin's thoughts drifted aimlessly; the woman was content to share his silence.

"Listen," he said again as they passed the bright glowing lights of the Junction City bus depot, where the big gas-turbine-driven busses snarled as they turned out of the streams of traffic. "I'm going somewhere."

"You're walking, yes."

"I don't mean that. Somewhere. And I don't even know your name."

"It's Haazahri. Where are you going?"

Matlin said, "Balata 'kai."

"The ruins of the First City? Why in the world...."

"I don't know why. It doesn't matter why. Something in me says go there to open the tombs of memory."

"You don't have memory?"

"The Earthquake," said Matlin. "I remember nothing before it."

"Well, you can't go to Balata 'kai."

"You don't have to come with me."

"I didn't mean that. It's against the law."

"Since when?" demanded Matlin.

"Since the quake. Until they are rebuilt, the ruins are no place for tourists. Until they are rebuilt, the ruins are a fine place for thieves. Since the records of the birth of our civilization are among those ruins, the police have orders to kill any trespassers. That's why you can't go. Is it terribly important to you?"

"I feel that it is. I don't know why. As if--as if something's waiting there for me."

"You shouldn't tell me. I'm supposed to report you. I--"

"Will you?" Matlin asked indifferently.

"I will not," said Haazahri promptly. "I'll go with you."

Matlin shook his head, bemused. He couldn't believe his ears. His troubles were his troubles. Why should the beautiful Haazahri accompany him? Why should she want to?

He asked, "Why?"

"Because you gave me pleasure."

Matlin felt disappointed. "You enjoyed the beating Felg got? You enjoyed his shaming?"

"No, I don't mean that. It's your name and how ... how you live up to its suggestion of heresy. Religion is a good thing on other worlds, Matlin. I have spoken with people. On the planets of Antares, where the folk accept with choice a pantheism of total godhood, that is good; on Earth, where several religions freely proclaim the worship of a single great deity under different names, that is good. But don't you see, here on Kedak--but of course, you see. The point I make is, you say what you believe. If another...."

"But I don't believe. I'm an iconoclast."

"If another feels as you do, but says nothing...."

"You, Haazahri?"

"I. And so you give me pleasure. You're a strange man, Matlin, but a brave one. If you lost your memory, is Matlin a new name you have given yourself?"

"Yes."

"I wonder," Haazahri mused, looking at him and smiling. She was a tall woman, her face almost on a level with his own. She stared frankly into his eyes, boldly, still smiling. "I wonder if you have any family, if you are married...."

"I'm a long way from home," Matlin said abruptly.

"Now, what does that mean? What is your mind trying to tell you?"

Matlin shook his head in wonder. "The words--just came!"

Haazahri was still smiling. "No, you wouldn't be married."

"Why not?"

"Because," said Haazahri, "until this day you hadn't met me."

"Haazahri, listen...." he began.

"Don't start that again. I'm coming with you to Balata 'kai."

"Haazahri...."

But she swung to him abruptly, clutching his tunic and drawing herself close to him. "Matlin," she breathed tremulously. "Matlin, love...." They were in the pleasure district of Junction City, the lights a mad whirl-and-flash, the crowds noisy, drunken, unconcerned.

They stood together, as stone. But the blood boiled in their veins, and their hearts were not stone.

"Haazahri," he said. Then he kissed her.