And he was, trotting lightly down the steps, smiling. He wore his human
skin as naturally as if it were more than a cloak, and Greaves had to
look hard to see that when he smiled his lips stretched but no teeth
showed.
"Well, Man in all your pride. Are you ready?"
"Ready as any man. How do you propose to go about this?"
"Adelie didn't tell you?"
"She told me as much as I asked. I didn't ask much. Could you suggest
any way I could have refused the conditions, no matter what they are?
That loses the fight right there. Wasn't I supposed to understand that?
Do you think politics is a recent invention?"
"Fierce, fierce," Mayron murmured. "Well spoken." He chuckled. "When I
was a man, I would have liked you."
"Get to the business, Mayron."
The Shadow held up his hand. "Not so fast. Perhaps we can arrive at
some--"
"Arrive at nothing. Put up or shut up. Vigil no longer has that
monstrous gun and there's no point in this for you today. But there is
for _me_, and you don't have much time to realize that." He glowered
at the Shadow, feeling the rage, feeling the onrush of the bright white
exaltation when the body moves too fast for the brain to speak, when
what directs the body is the reflex founded on the silent knowledge of
the brain's deep layers, where the learning has no words.
Mayron frowned. His head was cocked to one side. If he had had eyes, he
would have been peering at Greaves' face. But he said nothing; he had
lost the moment, and now Greaves used it.
"You scum," Greaves said, his voice booming through the Temple square
for all the Shadows to hear. "A weapon that drains the power of this
continuum! You leech--you would have had that doddering old man put all
my stars out!"
And now the moment was at its peak, and Greaves screamed with rage, so
that the faces of the towers were turned into sounding boards and the
shout crackled in the air like thunder. He jumped forward, one sweeping
arm tossing Mayron out of his way and flailing for balance, while
Greaves sprang into the Temple and charged the Chamber of Shadows.
* * * * *
And now the fear--the great devouring fear that came like fangs in
his belly but did not stop him. Now the fear as he burst through the
acolytes and into the black, light-shot sphere that quivered at the
focus of Mayron's machine. And he stood there, feeling the suck not of
one voracious universe but many--all the universes that had eaten the
over-curious Mayron and sent back a Judas goat in his skin to conquer
what belonged to Man. Feeling the icy cold, and the energy-hunger that
could suck Man's Universe dry and still leave a hunger immeasurable.
But the rage--the rage that came to him, that came to the god uncounted
generations of men had made while David Greaves lay sleeping but
his deepest mind lay awake, feeling, feeling the faith, knowing the
splendor of what Man had done--The rage that could make a god, that
could give a creature like David Greaves the power to create, to dream
a man--to make a David Greaves who would lie waiting, ready to become a
god....
That rage went forth.
And in parallel continuums of life unimaginable, the dawn of Apocalypse
burst upon suns unnameable and worlds unheard-of--upon all the
universes which were the true Shadows. The god who was David Greaves
again, when the rage had passed--that image which Man himself had made
stood blazing his fury in the Chamber of Shadows, and the Universe of
Man was free and safe. But in the places of the Shadows there was no
hope, no joy, no place of refuge. Mankind was come forth, and galaxies
were dying.
One last snap of the fangs--one moment when the death-spurred Shadows
almost had their greatest prize of all--and then it was over. Greaves
turned and strode out of the blasted Chamber, and the acolytes cowered,
covering their eyes, not yet realizing that once more they had eyes.
* * * * *
David Greaves appeared on the temple steps, and began walking slowly
down, his legs shaking with exhaustion. Adelie watched him coming
toward her. Around her, Shadows that had once been men were men again,
but at her feet Mayron lay without his skin, and though her father
had fled, she did not dare go without learning what the look on David
Greaves' face meant for her.