“No wind. No rowers!” said Simony. “Do you even begin to understand what you have here, Urn?”
“Absolutely. The operating principles are amazingly simple,” said Urn.
“That wasn't what I meant. I meant the things you could do with this power!”
Urn pushed another log on the fire.
“It's just the transforming of heat into work,” he said. “I suppose . . . oh, the pumping of water. Mills that can grind even when the wind isn't blowing. That sort of thing? Is that what you had in mind?”
Simony the soldier hesitated.
“Yeah,” he said. “Something like that.”
Brutha whispered, “Om?”
“Yes?”
“Are you all right?”
“It smells like a soldier's knapsack in here. Get me out.”
The copper ball spun madly over the fire. It gleamed almost as brightly as Simony's eyes.
Brutha tapped him on the shoulder.
“Can I have my tortoise?”
Simony laughed bitterly.
“There's good eating on one of these things,” he said, fishing out Om.
ndered how much he could remember. but that was stupid. You just remembered everything you saw. A tabletop, or a scroll full of writing. There was as much information in the grain and coloring of the wood as there was in Xeno's Reflections.
Even so, he was conscious of a certain heaviness of mind, a feeling that if he turned his head sharply then memory would slosh out of his ears.
Urn picked up a scroll at random and unrolled it partway.
“Describe what an Ambiguous Puzuma looks like,” he demanded.
“Don't know,” said Brutha. He blinked.
“So much for Mr. Memory,” said Urn.
“He can't read, boy. That's not fair,” said the philosopher.
“All right. I mean-the fourth picture in the third scroll you saw,” said Urn.
“A four-legged creature facing left,” said Brutha. "A large head similar to a cat's and broad shoulders with the body tapering towards the hindquarters. The body is a pattern of dark and light squares. The ears are very small and laid flat against the head. There are six whiskers. The tail is stubby. Only the hind feet are clawed, three claws on each foot. The fore feet are about the same length as the head and held up against the body. A band of thick hair-
“That was fifty scrolls ago,” said Urn. “He saw the whole scroll for a second or two.”
They looked at Brutha. Brutha blinked again.
“You know everything?” said Urn.
“I don't know.”
“You've got half the Library in your head!”