Spectrum of a Forgotten Sun

The light was bad, dim from suspended globes and dulled with accumulated dust, but it was enough for him to distinguish the motive each wore on their garments; a disc surrounded by tapering spikes.

"What is this?"

Navalok craned his head and followed the finger pointing at the yellow fabric.

"I don't know, Earl. It had something to do with their religion, I think. That device was worn by the Guardians of the Sun."

The sun?

The sun!

Had they known only one?

Dumarest looked at the silent figures, the contours of their faces, the shape of their heads. Compared with Navalok the differences were slight but unmistakable. If priests they may not have married and their genes would have been lost to the common pool. A select group, then, guarding an esoteric secret?

He said, "In your studies, Navalok, did you learn from where the original settlers came?"

"From another planet, Earl. Where else?"

"Its name?"

"I don't know. The records were lost in a fire shortly after the First Families made Emijar their home. In fact nothing is left of them aside from the things in the Shrine and those-"

He broke off as if conscious of having said too much, a fact Dumarest noticed but ignored. Later, if at all, would be the time to press.

"The Shrine, boy," he said. "Take me to the Shrine."

The journey was not long but each step had been taken before many times in other places and, always, such journeys had led to disappointment. A quest which seemed to have no end. A mystery which had yet to be solved. A world lost as if it had never been and yet he knew that it existed and was to be found. Would be found given time and the essential clue. The one fact which would supply the coordinates and guide him back home.

Would fate, this time, be kind?

"Earl?" Navalok was worried at his silence, his expression. "Have I offended you?"

"No."

"If I have it was without intent. No insult was implied in anything I may have done or said. If for any reason you have cause to feel offense then I apologies, humbly and without reservation. Please, Earl. You must believe that."

"I believe it." Dumarest turned to look at the anxious face and smiled. "How could you insult me? We're friends, aren't we?"

"Friends?" Navalok blinked.

"Of course." Dumarest dropped a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Didn't you want for us to be friends?"

"Yes," Navalok stammered. "Oh, yes, Earl. I-I'd like that very much."

A smile and a few words, cheap to give but what seed could bear a richer harvest? Those who took a perverse pleasure in deriding the unfortunate lost more than they knew and risked more than they imagined. No human being, no matter how insignificant, can safely be demeaned. Always there is present the danger of restraints snapping, of self-control giving way beneath the impact of one insult too many. Of pride and the need to be an individual bursting out in a tide of relentless fury.

A thing Dumarest had learned early in life but which Lekhard had not.

He straightened from where he leaned against a wall his voice, like his face, holding a sneer.

"Well, Earl, as I guessed, you find our little freak entertaining. There is, of course, no accounting for tastes, but surely there are others more suited to your whims?" His gesture made his meaning plain. His laughter, devoid of humor, made it obscene.

Dumarest felt the boy tense at his side, the sound of his sharp inhalation, and cursed the unfortunate meeting. To maintain the newly formed friendship he would have to act in a manner which the boy expected which, in this society, meant only one thing.

He said, curtly, "What do you want, Lekhard?"

"I? Nothing, not from you or from any man." Lekhard stressed the gender. "But Dephine was anxious and asked me to look for you. It would be best if you hurried back to your mistress."

Another insult to add to the rest. Dumarest studied the man, saw the way he stood, the way in which his hand rested near the butt of his gun, the expression in his eyes. One he had seen before across countless rings. The look of a man enamored with the desire to kill.

Quietly he said, "Navalok, instruct me. How do I challenge this man?"

"Earl! You carry no gun!"

"Answer my question."

"He has." Lekhard moved from where he stood and halted a few feet from the couple. "Until you have proved yourself you have no right to issue a challenge. The killing of Galbrene makes no difference. It was the act of an animal and I've no intention of following his example and meeting you or any man with bare hands. If you want to challenge me then earn the right to carry a gun. Until then remember your place."

"And that is?"

"In the dirt, scum! In the filth where you belong!"

Dumarest snarled, "I am armed. My knife against your gun. Give the word, boy."

"No, Earl! You-"

"Give it!"