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through
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others, serving the city, never able to explore what was unique to her own mind. But now she was alone.
It was a little frightening. But mostly she just felt cold and wished she'd been able to find warmer clothing than Livy's
robe and shawl.
The cart bumped to a stop in the great open area beside the Cathedral. As Annalie slid to the back of the cart and
dropped off, the cart's driver got out and, seeing her, said, "You've come for the service tonight?"
For a moment Annalie hesitated, still afraid of being seen; but then she realized that the man's first glance would have
identified her to Livy and Mithra. She smiled shyly at the man. "Yes. It's because of those creatures, you see."
"Ever been here before?" He was a small, round man, his hair sprinkled with grey, his face dark and lined with years.
How old? Annalie wondered. He could be eighty or a hundred and eighty.
"I've never . . . well, never really been here. But I've seen broadcasts from here, of course."
He nodded. "Well, come on; the entrance is up the road this way. My name is Alton." He set off without looking back,
walking slowly along the darkening path beneath the trees. Somewhere in the dark, crickets trilled. (They're always out
of sight, Annalie thought: even for a monitor, who sees everything in the city, crickets are just sounds hi the distance.)
She felt an urge to say something more to the man, something that Livy would hear and know that she was all right.
She hurried to catch up with him and said, "I haven't been out for a while; I've been sick. But I feel fine now.
Wonderful, in fact."
"Good," Alton said, not looking at her, continuing to walk deliberately along the path. Annalie saw now that he was
indeed very old; his movements had the careful sureness of one who had to will every step.
Other people were converging on the path from the
193 " CIRQUE
cart areas: couples, people alone, groups of four or five who chattered excitedly among themselves. Everyone was
moving toward the tall-chimneyed Cathedral ahead.
"Will it be crowded?" Annalie asked the old man.
He glanced sideways at her without interest; his eyes were such a pale blue that they seemed to blend into the whites
around them. "Usually the Cathedral's half empty, but I guess not tonight," he said.
He didn't seem to want to talk, and Annalie shrank back into herself. She followed him silently up the steps into the
Cathedral. People -jostled her, and they came to a complete halt in the building's wood-paneled foyer. Shoulders and
elbows surrounded her.
Alton turned to her suddenly and said, "It isn't usually like this; these are just people who came here tonight because
they're scared. Usually they never come to a service unless it's a Midsummer Chant. They're not be-lievers; there are
hardly any believers left in this city."
There was bitterness in his voice; Annalie wondered if it was because he disapproved of the less religious people or
because he was annoyed by the crowd.
"Everybody in Cirque believes," she said. "Whether or not they come to services here or somewhere else, they all
believe. They all tune in to the broadcasts; they're all part of Cirque. We're really all one people, aren't we? Because of
the monitors."
Alton sniffed disgustedly. "Monitors. Broadcasts. It was different when I was young. The temples were always full
then, and people came because they believed in more than what they could see. Cirque isn't a religious city
anymore ifs just a place for tourists." He cast a sharp glance at her. "I guess you don't even know what I'm talking
about."
"I'm not sure," Annalie said. She was intimidated by this old man: his bitterness and disapproval were things she'd
seen many times in people's minds, but they'd always been just a few among thousands. She realized
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that being a monitor had made it easy to disregard the feelings of people who were in a minority; now she
was alone with the people around her, unable to listen to the minds of those who stayed home and thought
of other things.
"These people here tonight haven't come because they understand the Elements, because they want to
touch the higher things," Alton said. "Half of them came because some new fire sculptor has done Fire
tonight, and the other half are here because they want to be reassured that the thing from the Abyss isn't
going to rip up their homes. Look at them, dressed up as though it were open-ing night at a star symphony."
He was right; Annalie was almost smothered by the furs of the people surrounding her. Gold pendants inlaid
with stones from Earth and the worlds of the stars gleamed in the elaborately styled hairdos of the women;
many of the men affected shoulder jewelry. Their faces betrayed faint lines left by long years of boredom.
These were the elite of the Inner City, she realized many of them probably from the villas near the Final
Cataract.
But there was an alertness in their eyes that seemed oddly out of place, as though their senses were fully
open for the first time hi years. Excitement filled the room with electric intensity.
The danger has opened them, Annalie realized. They're frightened, but it's brought them awake.
A slender boy opened the doors at the end of the foyer, and the crowd began to push through into the
Cathedral; Annalie and Alton were carried along with them. The interior of the building was a high-vaulted
room devoid of furniture, lit by small fires in wall braziers. The wooden floor of the foyer gave way to
hard-packed earth, neatly swept; Annalie saw several of the expensively dressed people near her looking in
consternation for chairs or benches on which to sit
Alton took her hand and pulled her toward the altar
195 " CIRQUE
that stood in front of the giant fireplace. Low, dark flames bubbled in the wide fire pit. The room smelled of dry earth
and the breaths of centuries.
"You want to get near the front," Alton told her. "That way you can hear better when " He stopped, and she saw him
staring toward the front of the room. But then he resumed his deliberate progress through the crowd. "Well, well," he
said, "even the millipede is here."
Annalie had difficulty seeing over the shoulders of the crowd, but in a few moments she caught a glimpse of the raised
dais before the fireplace where several figures stood  among them the foreigner from Aldebaran, its fur glowing redly
in the light of the low fire. As they got nearer the front of the Cathedral, picking their way through people sitting in
groups on the floor, she recog-nized others who stood near the dais: the slim figure of the priestess, Salamander, her
long red hair splashing over her white cape; a young man with blond hair and aristo-cratic features, Jamie Halle.
The events of the day crowded back into her mind; she remembered the millipede's arrival this morning, the
con-versation at the Morning Gate that she'd broadcast. (Why, it had been Alton who had spoken with the milli-pede!
She hadn't recognized him, seeing him tonight only from the outside, not touching his mind as she had this morning.) [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]