Drunah broke the silence.
“De Chelonian Mobile,” he said aloud. “ `The Turtle Moves.' What does that mean?”
“Even telling you could put your soul at risk of a thousand years in hell,” said Vorbis. His eyes had not left Fri'it, who was now staring fixedly at the wall.
“I think it is a risk we might carefully take,” said Drunah.
Vorbis shrugged. “The writer claims that the world . . . travels through the void on the back of four huge elephants,” he said.
Drunah's mouth dropped open.
“On the back?” he said.
“It is claimed,” said Vorbis, still watching Fri'it.
“What do they stand on?”
“The writer says they stand on the shell of an enormous turtle,” said Vorbis.
Drunah grinned nervously.
“And what does that stand on?” he said.
“I see no point in speculating as to what it stands on,” snapped Vorbis, “since it does not exist!”
“Of course, of course,” said Drunah quickly. “It was only idle curiosity.”
“Most curiosity is,” said Vorbis. “It leads the mind into speculative ways. Yet the man who wrote this walks around free, in Ephebe, now. ”
Drunah glanced at the scroll.
"He says here he went on a ship that sailed to an island on the edge and he looked over and-
“Lies,” said Vorbis evenly. “And it would make no difference even if they were not lies. Truth lies within, not without. In the words of the Great God Om, as delivered through his chosen prophets. Our eyes may deceive us, but our God never will.”
"But-
Vorbis looked at Fri'it. The general was sweating.
“Yes?” he said.
“Well . . . Ephebe. A place where madmen have mad ideas. Everyone knows that. Maybe the wisest course is leave them to stew in their folly?”
Vorbis shook his head. “Unfortunately, wild and unstable ideas have a disturbing tendency to move around and take hold.”
Fri'it had to admit that this was true. He knew from experience that true and obvious ideas, such as the ineffable wisdom and judgment of the Great God Om, seemed so obscure to many people that you actually had to kill them before they saw the error of their ways, whereas dangerous and nebulous and wrongheaded notions often had such an attraction for some people that they would-he rubbed a scar thoughtfully-hide up in the mountains and throw rocks at you until you starved them out. They'd prefer to die rather than see sense. Fri'it had seen sense at an early age. He'd seen it was sense not to die.
“What do you propose?” he said.
“The Council want to parley with Ephebe,” said Drunah. “You know I have to organize a deputation to leave tomorrow.”
“How many soldiers?” said Vorbis.
“A bodyguard only. We have been guaranteed safe passage, after all,” said Fri'it.
“We have been guaranteed safe passage,” said Vorbis. It sounded like a lengthy curse. “And once inside . . . ?”
Fri'it wanted to say: I've spoken to the commander of the Ephebian garrison, and I think he is a man of honor, although of course he is indeed a despicable infidel and lower than the worms. But it was not the kind of thing he felt it wise to say to Vorbis.