Chapter 7

Panawe

20 min

The husband got up to meet his wife and their guest. He was clothed in white. He had a beardless face, with breve and poigns. His skin, on face and body alike, was so white, fresh, and soft, that it scarcely looked skin at all—it rather resembled a new kind of pure, snowy flesh, extending right down to his bones. It had nothing in common with the artificially whitened skin of an over-civilised woman. Its whiteness and delicacy aroused no voluptuous thoughts; it was obviously the manifestation of a cold and almost cruel chastity of nature. His hair, which fell to the nape of his neck, also was white; but again, from vigour, not decay. His eyes were black, quiet and fathomless. He was still a young man, but so stern were his features that he had the appearance of a lawgiver, and this in spite of their great beauty and harmony.

The husband got up to meet his wife and their guest. He was dressed in white. His face was beardless, with breve and poigns. The skin on his face and body was so white, fresh, and soft that it hardly looked like skin. It looked more like a new kind of pure, snowy flesh that reached all the way down to his bones. It had nothing in common with the artificially whitened skin of an overcivilized woman. Its whiteness and delicacy aroused no sensual thoughts. They were clearly signs of a cold and almost cruel purity of nature. His hair, which fell to the nape of his neck, was also white. But again, its whiteness came from vigor, not decay. His eyes were black, calm, and fathomless. He was still a young man. But despite their great beauty and harmony, his features were so stern that he looked like a lawgiver.

His magn and Joiwind’s intertwined for a single moment and Maskull saw his face soften with love, while she looked exultant. She put him in her husband’s arms with gentle force, and stood back, gazing and smiling. Maskull felt rather embarrassed at being embraced by a man, but submitted to it; a sense of cool, pleasant languor passed through him in the act.

His magn and Joiwind’s intertwined for a moment. Maskull saw his face soften with love, while she looked joyful. She gently but firmly pushed Maskull into her husband’s arms, then stepped back, watching and smiling. Maskull felt somewhat embarrassed to be embraced by a man, but let him do it. As they embraced, a cool, pleasant drowsiness passed through him.

“The stranger is red-blooded, then?”

“So the stranger is red-blooded?”

He was startled by Panawe’s speaking in English, and the voice too was extraordinary. It was absolutely tranquil, but its tranquillity seemed in a curious fashion to be an illusion, proceeding from a rapidity of thoughts and feelings so great that their motion could not be detected. How this could be, he did not know.

He was startled to hear Panawe speak English, and his voice was extraordinary too. It was completely calm, but its calmness seemed strangely deceptive. His thoughts and feelings seemed to move so quickly that their motion could not be detected. He did not know how this could be.

“How do you come to speak in a tongue you have never heard before?” demanded Maskull.

“How can you speak a language you have never heard before?” demanded Maskull.

“Thought is a rich, complex thing. I can’t say if I am really speaking your tongue by instinct, or if you yourself are translating my thoughts into your tongue as I utter them.”

“Thought is a rich, complex thing. I can’t tell whether I’m instinctively speaking your language or you’re translating my thoughts as I speak.”

“Already you see that Panawe is wiser than I am,” said Joiwind gaily.

“Already you can see that Panawe is wiser than I am,” said Joiwind cheerfully.

“What is your name?” asked the husband.

“Maskull.”

“That name must have a meaning—but again, thought is a strange thing. I connect that name with something—but with what?”

“That name must mean something. But then again, thought is a strange thing. I associate that name with something, but what?”

“Try to discover,” said Joiwind.

“Try to find out,” said Joiwind.

“Has there been a man in your world who stole something from the Maker of the universe, in order to ennoble his fellow creatures?”

“Has a man in your world ever stolen something from the Maker of the universe to make his fellow creatures better?”

“There is such a myth. The hero’s name was Prometheus.”

“There is a myth like that. The hero’s name was Prometheus.”

“Well, you seem to be identified in my mind with that action—but what it all means I can’t say, Maskull.”

“Well, in my mind, you seem to be connected with that action. But I can’t say what it all means, Maskull.”

“Accept it as a good omen, for Panawe never lies, and never speaks thoughtlessly.”

“Take it as a good sign, because Panawe never lies and never speaks without thinking.”

“There must be some confusion. These are heights beyond me,” said Maskull calmly, but looking rather contemplative.

“There must be some confusion. These heights are beyond me,” said Maskull calmly, though he looked rather thoughtful.

“Where do you come from?”

“From the planet of a distant sun, called Earth.”

“From Earth, a planet orbiting a distant sun.”

“What for?”

“I was tired of vulgarity,” returned Maskull laconically. He intentionally avoided mentioning his fellow voyagers, in order that Krag’s name should not come to light.

“I was tired of vulgarity,” Maskull replied briefly. He deliberately avoided mentioning his fellow travelers so that Krag’s name would not come up.

“That’s an honourable motive,” said Panawe. “And what’s more, it may be true, though you spoke it as a prevarication.”

“That’s an honorable motive,” said Panawe. “What’s more, it may be true, even though you said it to evade the truth.”

“As far as it goes, it’s quite true,” said Maskull, staring at him with annoyance and surprise.

The swampy lake extended for about half a mile from where they were standing to the lower buttresses of the mountain. Feathery purple reeds showed themselves here and there through the shallows. The water was dark green. Maskull did not see how they were going to cross it.

The swampy lake stretched about half a mile from where they stood to the lower slopes of the mountain. Feathery purple reeds rose here and there from the shallow water. The water was dark green. Maskull could not see how they were going to cross the lake.

Joiwind caught his arm. “Perhaps you don’t know that the lake will bear us?”

Joiwind grabbed his arm. “Perhaps you don’t know that the lake will support us?”

Panawe walked onto the water; it was so heavy that it carried his weight. Joiwind followed with Maskull. He instantly started to slip about—nevertheless the motion was amusing, and he learned so fast, by watching and imitating Panawe, that he was soon able to balance himself without assistance. After that he found the sport excellent.

Panawe walked onto the water. It was so dense that it supported his weight. Joiwind and Maskull followed. Maskull immediately began to slip around, but he found the movement amusing. He learned quickly by watching and copying Panawe, and soon he could balance without help. After that, he found it great fun.

For the same reason that women excel in dancing, Joiwind’s half falls and recoveries were far more graceful and sure than those of either of the men. Her slight, draped form—dipping, bending, rising, swaying, twisting, upon the surface of the dark water—this was a picture Maskull could not keep his eyes away from.

For the same reason that women excel at dancing, Joiwind fell and recovered more gracefully and surely than either man. Her slender, draped figure dipped, bent, rose, swayed, and twisted on the surface of the dark water. Maskull could not take his eyes off her.

The lake grew deeper. The gnawl water became green-black. The crags, gullies, and precipices of the shore could now be distinguished in detail. A waterfall was visible, descending several hundred feet. The surface of the lake grew disturbed—so much so that Maskull had difficulty in keeping his balance. He therefore threw himself down and started swimming on the face of the water. Joiwind turned her head, and laughed so joyously that all her teeth flashed in the sunlight.

The lake grew deeper. The gnawl water turned green-black. The cliffs, gullies, and steep drops along the shore were now visible in detail. A waterfall could be seen falling several hundred feet. The lake’s surface grew so rough that Maskull had trouble keeping his balance. So he threw himself down and began swimming on the surface. Joiwind turned her head and laughed so joyfully that all her teeth flashed in the sunlight.

They landed in a few more minutes on a promontory of black rock. The water on Maskull’s garment and body evaporated very quickly. He gazed upward at the towering mountain, but at that moment some strange movements on the part of Panawe attracted his attention. His face was working convulsively, and he began to stagger about. Then he put his hand to his mouth and took from it what looked like a bright-coloured pebble. He looked at it carefully for some seconds. Joiwind also looked, over his shoulder, with quickly changing colors. After this inspection, Panawe let the object—whatever it was—fall to the ground, and took no more interest in it.

A few minutes later, they landed on a stretch of black rock jutting into the water. The water on Maskull’s clothes and body evaporated quickly. He looked up at the towering mountain, but then Panawe’s strange movements caught his attention. Panawe’s face was twitching, and he began to stagger. Then he put his hand to his mouth and took out something that looked like a brightly colored pebble. He studied it carefully for a few seconds. Joiwind also looked at it over his shoulder, her colors changing quickly. After examining it, Panawe dropped the object, whatever it was, on the ground and paid it no further attention.

“May I look?” asked Maskull; and, without waiting for permission, he picked it up. It was a delicately beautiful egg-shaped crystal of pale green.

“May I look?” asked Maskull. Without waiting for permission, he picked it up. It was a delicate, beautiful, pale green crystal shaped like an egg.

“Where did this come from?” he asked queerly.

“Where did this come from?” he asked strangely.

Panawe turned away, but Joiwind answered for him. “It came out of my husband.”

“That’s what I thought, but I couldn’t believe it. But what is it?”

“I don’t know that it has either name or use. It is merely an overflowing of beauty.”

“I don’t know if it has a name or a use. It is simply an overflow of beauty.”

“Beauty?”

Joiwind smiled. “If you were to regard nature as the husband, and Panawe as the wife, Maskull, perhaps everything would be explained.”

Joiwind smiled. “Maskull, if you think of nature as the husband and Panawe as the wife, perhaps that explains everything.”

Maskull reflected.

Maskull thought for a moment.

“On Earth,” he said after a minute, “men like Panawe are called artists, poets, and musicians. Beauty overflows into them too, and out of them again. The only distinction is that their productions are more human and intelligible.”

“On Earth,” he said after a minute, “men like Panawe are called artists, poets, and musicians. Beauty flows into them too, and then out of them again. The only difference is that their creations are more human and easier to understand.”

“Nothing comes from it but vanity,” said Panawe, and, taking the crystal out of Maskull’s hand, he threw it into the lake.

“Nothing comes from it but vanity,” said Panawe. He took the crystal from Maskull’s hand and threw it into the lake.

The precipice they now had to climb was several hundred feet in height. Maskull was more anxious for Joiwind than for himself. She was evidently tiring, but she refused all help, and was in fact still the nimbler of the two. She made a mocking face at him. Panawe seemed lost in quiet thoughts. The rock was sound, and did not crumble under their weight. The heat of Branchspell, however, was by this time almost killing, the radiance was shocking in its white intensity, and Maskull’s pain steadily grew worse.

The cliff they now had to climb was several hundred feet high. Maskull was more worried about Joiwind than about himself. She was clearly getting tired, but she refused all help. In fact, she was still more agile than he was. She made a mocking face at him. Panawe seemed lost in quiet thought. The rock was solid and did not crumble under their weight. But by now, the heat of Branchspell was almost unbearable. Its light was shockingly intense and white, and Maskull’s pain kept getting worse.

When they got to the top, a plateau of dark rock appeared, bare of vegetation, stretching in both directions as far as the eye could see. It was of a nearly uniform width of five hundred yards, from the edge of the cliffs to the lower slopes of the chain of hills inland. The hills varied in height. The cup-shaped Poolingdred was approximately a thousand feet above them. The upper part of it was covered with a kind of glittering vegetation which he could not comprehend.

When they reached the top, they saw a plateau of dark rock with no vegetation. It stretched in both directions as far as they could see. It was almost 500 yards wide throughout, from the cliff edge to the lower slopes of the hills inland. The hills varied in height. The cup-shaped Poolingdred rose about 1,000 feet above them. Its upper part was covered in a kind of glittering vegetation that he could not understand.

Joiwind put her hand on Maskull’s shoulder, and pointed upward. “Here you have the highest peak in the whole land—that is, until you come to the Ifdawn Marest.”

Joiwind put her hand on Maskull’s shoulder and pointed upward. “This is the highest peak in the whole land, until you reach the Ifdawn Marest.”

On hearing that strange name, he experienced a momentary unaccountable sensation of wild vigour and restlessness—but it passed away.

When he heard the strange name, he felt a sudden, inexplicable burst of wild energy and restlessness. But it passed.

Without losing time, Panawe led the way up the mountainside. The lower half was of bare rock, not difficult to climb. Halfway up, however, it grew steeper, and they began to meet bushes and small trees. The growth became thicker as they continued to ascend, and when they neared the summit, tall forest trees appeared.

Without wasting time, Panawe led the way up the mountainside. The lower half was bare rock and not difficult to climb. Halfway up, however, the slope grew steeper, and they began to encounter bushes and small trees. The vegetation grew thicker as they climbed, and tall forest trees appeared near the summit.

These bushes and trees had pale, glassy trunks and branches, but the small twigs and the leaves were translucent and crystal. They cast no shadows from above, but still the shade was cool. Both leaves and branches were fantastically shaped. What surprised Maskull the most, however, was the fact that, as far as he could see, scarcely any two plants belonged to the same species.

The bushes and trees had pale, glassy trunks and branches, but their small twigs and leaves were clear as crystal. They cast no shadows from above, but the shade was still cool. Both the leaves and branches had fantastic shapes. What surprised Maskull most, however, was that hardly any two plants he could see belonged to the same species.

“Won’t you help Maskull out of his difficulty?” said Joiwind, pulling her husband’s arm.

“Won’t you help Maskull with his problem?” Joiwind said, pulling her husband’s arm.

He smiled. “If he’ll forgive me for again trespassing in his brain. But the difficulty is small. Life on a new planet, Maskull, is necessarily energetic and lawless, and not sedate and imitative. Nature is still fluid—not yet rigid—and matter is plastic. The will forks and sports incessantly, and thus no two creatures are alike.”

He smiled. “If he’ll forgive me for once again intruding on his mind. But the difficulty is small. Maskull, life on a new planet is necessarily energetic and lawless, not calm and imitative. Nature is still fluid, not yet fixed, and matter can be shaped. The will constantly branches out and plays, so no two creatures are alike.”

“Well, I understand all that,” replied Maskull, after listening attentively. “But what I don’t grasp is this—if living creatures here sport so energetically, how does it come about that human beings wear much the same shape as in my world?”

“Well, I understand all that,” replied Maskull, after listening carefully. “But there’s something I don’t understand. If living creatures here vary so greatly, why are human beings shaped much like those in my world?”

“I’ll explain that too,” said Panawe. “All creatures that resemble Shaping must of necessity resemble one another.”

“I’ll explain that too,” said Panawe. “All creatures that resemble Shaping must also resemble one another.”

“Then sporting is the blind will to become like Shaping?”

“Then is sporting the blind will to become like Shaping?”

“Exactly.”

“It is most wonderful,” said Maskull. “Then the brotherhood of man is not a fable invented by idealists, but a solid fact.”

“That’s amazing,” said Maskull. “So the brotherhood of man isn’t a myth invented by idealists. It’s a real fact.”

Joiwind looked at him, and changed colour. Panawe relapsed into sternness.

Joiwind looked at him, and her face changed color. Panawe became stern again.

Maskull became interested in a new phenomenon. The jale-coloured blossoms of a crystal bush were emitting mental waves, which with his breve he could clearly distinguish. They cried out silently, “To me! To me!” While he looked, a flying worm guided itself through the air to one of these blossoms and began to suck its nectar. The floral cry immediately ceased.

Maskull became interested in something new. The jale-coloured blossoms of a crystal bush were sending out mental waves. He could clearly sense them with his breve. The blossoms cried out silently, “To me! To me!” As he watched, a flying worm flew to one of the blossoms and began to suck its nectar. The blossom’s cry immediately stopped.

They now gained the crest of the mountain, and looked down beyond. A lake occupied its crater-like cavity. A fringe of trees partly intercepted the view, but Maskull was able to perceive that this mountain lake was nearly circular and perhaps a quarter of a mile across. Its shore stood a hundred feet below them.

They reached the top of the mountain and looked down the other side. A lake filled its crater-like hollow. A fringe of trees partly blocked the view, but Maskull could see that the lake was nearly circular and perhaps a quarter of a mile across. Its shore was a hundred feet below them.

Observing that his hosts did not propose to descend, he begged them to wait for him, and scrambled down to the surface. When he got there, he found the water perfectly motionless and of a colourless transparency. He walked onto it, lay down at full length, and peered into the depths. It was weirdly clear: he could see down for an indefinite distance, without arriving at any bottom. Some dark, shadowy objects, almost out of reach of his eyes, were moving about. Then a sound, very faint and mysterious, seemed to come up through the gnawl water from an immense depth. It was like the rhythm of a drum. There were four beats of equal length, but the accent was on the third. It went on for a considerable time, and then ceased.

Seeing that his hosts had no intention of going down, he begged them to wait and scrambled down to the surface. There he found the water perfectly still, colorless, and transparent. He walked onto it, stretched out, and peered into the depths. The water was strangely clear. He could see down an endless distance without finding a bottom. Some dark, shadowy objects were moving about, almost beyond his sight. Then a very faint, mysterious sound seemed to rise through the gnawl water from a great depth. It sounded like the rhythm of a drum. There were four beats of equal length, with the accent on the third. The rhythm continued for quite a while, then stopped.

The sound appeared to him to belong to a different world from that in which he was travelling. The latter was mystical, dreamlike, and unbelievable—the drumming was like a very dim undertone of reality. It resembled the ticking of a clock in a room full of voices, only occasionally possible to be picked up by the ear.

The sound seemed to him to belong to a different world from the one he was traveling through. That world was mystical, dreamlike, and unbelievable. The drumming was like a very faint undertone of reality. It was like a clock ticking in a room full of voices, audible only now and then.

He rejoined Panawe and Joiwind, but said nothing to them about his experience. They all walked round the rim of the crater, and gazed down on the opposite side. Precipices similar to those that had overlooked the desert here formed the boundary of a vast moorland plain, whose dimensions could not be measured by the eye. It was solid land, yet he could not make out its prevailing colour. It was as if made of transparent glass, but it did not glitter in the sunlight. No objects in it could be distinguished, except a rolling river in the far distance, and, farther off still, on the horizon, a line of dark mountains, of strange shapes. Instead of being rounded, conical, or hogbacked, these heights were carved by nature into the semblance of castle battlements, but with extremely deep indentations.

He rejoined Panawe and Joiwind, but said nothing to them about his experience. They all walked around the rim of the crater and looked down on the other side. Cliffs like those that had overlooked the desert bordered a vast moorland plain. It stretched farther than the eye could see. It was solid land, yet he could not make out its main color. It looked as if it were made of transparent glass, but it did not glitter in the sunlight. He could make out no objects on the plain except a rolling river in the far distance. Farther off still, on the horizon, was a line of dark, strangely shaped mountains. They were not rounded, cone-shaped, or ridged. Nature had carved them to look like castle battlements, but with extremely deep notches.

The sky immediately above the mountains was of a vivid, intense blue. It contrasted in a most marvellous way with the blue of the rest of the heavens. It seemed more luminous and radiant, and was in fact like the afterglow of a gorgeous blue sunset.

The sky just above the mountains was a vivid, intense blue. It contrasted wonderfully with the blue of the rest of the sky. It seemed brighter and more radiant, like the afterglow of a magnificent blue sunset.

Maskull kept on looking. The more he gazed, the more restless and noble became his feelings.

Maskull kept looking. The longer he looked, the more restless and noble he felt.

“What is that light?”

Panawe was sterner than usual, while his wife clung to his arm. “It is Alppain—our second sun,” he replied. “Those hills are the Ifdawn Marest.... Now let us get to our shelter.”

Panawe was more serious than usual, while his wife held tightly to his arm. “It’s Alppain, our second sun,” he replied. “Those hills are the Ifdawn Marest.... Now let’s get to our shelter.”

“Is it imagination, or am I really being affected—tormented by that light?”

“Am I imagining it, or is that light really affecting me, tormenting me?”

“No, it’s not imagination—it’s real. How can it be otherwise when two suns, of different natures, are drawing you at the same time? Luckily you are not looking at Alppain itself. It’s invisible here. You would need to go at least as far as Ifdawn, to set eyes on it.”

“No, it’s not imagination. It’s real. How could it be otherwise when two different suns are pulling you at the same time? Luckily, you can’t see Alppain itself from here. You would have to go at least as far as Ifdawn to see it.”

“Why do you say ‘luckily’?”

“Because the agony caused by those opposing forces would perhaps be more than you could bear.... But I don’t know.”

“Because the pain caused by those opposing forces might be more than you could bear.... But I don’t know.”

For the short distance that remained of their walk, Maskull was very thoughtful and uneasy. He understood nothing. Whatever object his eye chanced to rest on changed immediately into a puzzle. The silence and stillness of the mountain peak seemed brooding, mysterious, and waiting. Panawe gave him a friendly, anxious look, and without further delay led the way down a little track, which traversed the side of the mountain and terminated in the mouth of a cave.

For the short distance left in their walk, Maskull was deep in thought and uneasy. He understood nothing. Everything his eyes fell on immediately became a puzzle. The silence and stillness of the mountain peak seemed brooding, mysterious, and waiting. Panawe gave him a friendly but anxious look. Then, without further delay, he led the way down a small path along the mountainside. It ended at the entrance to a cave.

This cave was the home of Panawe and Joiwind. It was dark inside. The host took a shell and, filling it with liquid from a well, carelessly sprinkled the sandy floor of the interior. A greenish, phosphorescent light gradually spread to the furthest limits of the cavern, and continued to illuminate it for the whole time they were there. There was no furniture. Some dried, fernlike leaves served for couches.

This cave was the home of Panawe and Joiwind. It was dark inside. The host filled a shell with liquid from a well and casually sprinkled it over the sandy floor. A greenish, glowing light gradually spread to the farthest reaches of the cave. It lit the cave the whole time they were there. There was no furniture. Some dried, fernlike leaves served as couches.

The moment she got in, Joiwind fell down in exhaustion. Her husband tended her with calm concern. He bathed her face, put drink to her lips, energised her with his magn, and finally laid her down to sleep. At the sight of the noble woman thus suffering on his account, Maskull was distressed.

The moment Joiwind got inside, she collapsed from exhaustion. Her husband cared for her with calm concern. He washed her face, gave her a drink, and restored her energy with his magn. Finally, he laid her down to sleep. Maskull was distressed to see the noble woman suffering because of him.

Panawe, however, endeavoured to reassure him. “It’s quite true this has been a very long, hard double journey, but for the future it will lighten all her other journeys for her.... Such is the nature of sacrifice.”

Panawe, however, tried to reassure him. “It’s quite true that this has been a very long, hard double journey. But it will make all her future journeys easier.... That is the nature of sacrifice.”

“I can’t conceive how I have walked so far in a morning,” said Maskull, “and she has been twice the distance.”

“I can’t imagine how I’ve walked so far in one morning,” said Maskull, “and she’s walked twice as far.”

“Love flows in her veins, instead of blood, and that’s why she is so strong.”

“Love flows in her veins instead of blood, and that’s why she is so strong.”

“You know she gave me some of it?”

“Otherwise you couldn’t even have started.”

“I shall never forget that.”

“I’ll never forget that.”

The languorous heat of the day outside, the bright mouth of the cavern, the cool seclusion of the interior, with its pale green glow, invited Maskull to sleep. But curiosity got the better of his lassitude.

The lazy heat outside, the bright entrance to the cavern, and the cool, secluded interior with its pale green glow invited Maskull to sleep. But curiosity overcame his weariness.

“Will it disturb her if we talk?”

“Will it bother her if we talk?”

“No.”

“But how do you feel?”

“I require little sleep. In any case, it’s more important that you should hear something about your new life. It’s not all as innocent and idyllic as this. If you intend to go through, you ought to be instructed about the dangers.”

“I don't need much sleep. Besides, it's more important that you hear something about your new life. It's not all as innocent and peaceful as this. If you intend to go through with it, you should know about the dangers.”

“Oh, I guessed as much. But how shall we arrange—shall I put questions, or will you tell me what you think is most essential?”

“Oh, I thought so. But how should we do this? Should I ask questions, or will you tell me what you think is most important?”

Panawe motioned to Maskull to sit down on a pile of ferns, and at the same time reclined himself, leaning on one arm, with outstretched legs.

Panawe motioned for Maskull to sit on a pile of ferns. At the same time, he reclined, leaning on one arm with his legs stretched out.

“I will tell some incidents of my life. You will begin to learn from them what sort of place you have come to.”

“I will tell you about some things that happened in my life. They will help you begin to understand what kind of place you have come to.”

“I shall be grateful,” said Maskull, preparing himself to listen.

“I’d be grateful,” said Maskull, getting ready to listen.

Panawe paused for a moment or two, and then started his narrative in tranquil, measured, yet sympathetic tones.

Panawe paused for a moment or two, then began his story in a calm, measured, and sympathetic voice.

PANAWE’S STORY

“My earliest recollection is of being taken, when three years old (that’s equivalent to fifteen of your years, but we develop more slowly here), by my father and mother, to see Broodviol, the wisest man in Tormance. He dwelt in the great Wombflash Forest. We walked through trees for three days, sleeping at night. The trees grew taller as we went along, until the tops were out of sight. The trunks were of a dark red colour and the leaves were of pale ulfire. My father kept stopping to think. If left uninterrupted, he would remain for half a day in deep abstraction. My mother came out of Poolingdred, and was of a different stamp. She was beautiful, generous, and charming—but also active. She kept urging him on. This led to many disputes between them, which made me miserable. On the fourth day we passed through a part of the forest which bordered on the Sinking Sea. This sea is full of pouches of water that will not bear a man’s weight, and as these light parts don’t differ in appearance from the rest, it is dangerous to cross. My father pointed out a dim outline on the horizon, and told me it was Swaylone’s Island. Men sometimes go there, but none ever return. In the evening of the same day we found Broodviol standing in a deep, miry pit in the forest, surrounded on all sides by trees three hundred feet high. He was a big gnarled, rugged, wrinkled, sturdy old man. His age at that time was a hundred and twenty of our years, or nearly six hundred of yours. His body was trilateral: he had three legs, three arms, and six eyes, placed at equal distances all around his head. This gave him an aspect of great watchfulness and sagacity. He was standing in a sort of trance. I afterward heard this saying of his: ‘To lie is to sleep, to sit is to dream, to stand is to think.’ My father caught the infection, and fell into meditation, but my mother roused them both thoroughly. Broodviol scowled at her savagely, and demanded what she required. Then I too learned for the first time the object of our journey. I was a prodigy—that is to say, I was without sex. My parents were troubled over this, and wished to consult the wisest of men.

“My earliest memory is of my father and mother taking me to see Broodviol, the wisest man in Tormance. I was three years old. That equals fifteen of your years, but we develop more slowly here. Broodviol lived in the great Wombflash Forest. We walked through the trees for three days, sleeping at night. The trees grew taller as we went, until their tops were out of sight. Their trunks were dark red, and their leaves were pale ulfire. My father kept stopping to think. If no one interrupted him, he would remain lost in thought for half a day. My mother came from Poolingdred and was a different kind of person. She was beautiful, generous, and charming, but also active. She kept urging him to move on. This led to many arguments between them, which made me miserable. On the fourth day we passed through a part of the forest that bordered the Sinking Sea. The sea is full of pockets of water that will not support a man’s weight. These lighter areas look no different from the rest, so the sea is dangerous to cross. My father pointed out a faint outline on the horizon and told me it was Swaylone’s Island. Men sometimes go there, but none ever return. That evening we found Broodviol standing in a deep, muddy pit in the forest. Trees three hundred feet tall surrounded him on every side. He was a big, gnarled, rugged, wrinkled, sturdy old man. He was then a hundred and twenty of our years old, or nearly six hundred of yours. His body had three sides. He had three legs, three arms, and six eyes, spaced equally around his head. This made him look very watchful and wise. He stood as if in a trance. I later heard a saying of his: ‘To lie down is to sleep, to sit is to dream, to stand is to think.’ My father caught the mood and fell into thought, but my mother roused them both completely. Broodviol scowled at her fiercely and demanded to know what she wanted. Then I learned for the first time why we had come. I was a prodigy, meaning that I had no sex. My parents were troubled by this and wanted to consult the wisest of men.

“Old Broodviol smoothed his face, and said, ‘This perhaps will not be so difficult. I will explain the marvel. Every man and woman among us is a walking murderer. If a male, he has struggled with and killed the female who was born in the same body with him—if a female, she has killed the male. But in this child the struggle is still continuing.’

“Old Broodviol relaxed his face and said, ‘Perhaps this will not be so difficult. I will explain the wonder. Every man and woman among us is a walking murderer. If a man, he has struggled with and killed the woman born in the same body as him. If a woman, she has killed the man. But in this child, the struggle is still going on.’

“‘How shall we end it?’ asked my mother.

“‘How should we end it?’ asked my mother.

“‘Let the child direct its will to the scene of the combat, and it will be of whichever sex it pleases.’

“‘Let the child focus its will on the scene of the fight, and it will be whichever sex it chooses.’

“‘You want, of course, to be a man, don’t you?’ said my mother to me earnestly.

“‘Of course, you want to be a man, don’t you?’ my mother asked me earnestly.

“‘Then I shall be slaying your daughter, and that would be a crime.’

“‘Then I would be killing your daughter, and that would be a crime.’

“Something in my tone attracted Broodviol’s notice.

“Something in my tone caught Broodviol’s attention.

“‘That was spoken, not selfishly, but magnanimously. Therefore the male must have spoken it, and you need not trouble further. Before you arrive home, the child will be a boy.’

“‘That was said generously, not selfishly. So the male must have said it, and you need not worry anymore. Before you get home, the child will be a boy.’

“My father walked away out of sight. My mother bent very low before Broodviol for about ten minutes, and he remained all that time looking kindly at her.

“My father walked away until he was out of sight. My mother bowed very low before Broodviol for about ten minutes. He looked kindly at her the whole time.

“I heard that shortly afterward Alppain came into that land for a few hours daily. Broodviol grew melancholy, and died.

“I heard that soon afterward, Alppain came to that land for a few hours each day. Broodviol grew sad and died.

“His prophecy came true—before we reached home, I knew the meaning of shame. But I have often pondered over his words since, in later years, when trying to understand my own nature; and I have come to the conclusion that, wisest of men as he was, he still did not see quite straight on this occasion. Between me and my twin sister, enclosed in one body, there never was any struggle, but instinctive reverence for life withheld both of us from fighting for existence. Hers was the stronger temperament, and she sacrificed herself—though not consciously—for me.

“His prediction came true. Before we reached home, I knew what shame meant. But in later years, I often thought about his words as I tried to understand my own nature. I came to the conclusion that, wise as he was, he had not seen things quite clearly on this occasion. My twin sister and I shared one body, but we never struggled against each other. An instinctive reverence for life kept both of us from fighting for existence. She had the stronger temperament, and she sacrificed herself for me, though not consciously.

“As soon as I comprehended this, I made a vow never to eat or destroy anything that contained life—and I have kept it ever since.

“As soon as I understood this, I vowed never to eat or destroy anything alive. I have kept that vow ever since.

“While I was still hardly a grown man, my father died. My mother’s death followed immediately, and I hated the associations of the land. I therefore made up my mind to travel into my mother’s country, where, as she had often told me, nature was most sacred and solitary.

“While I was still hardly a grown man, my father died. My mother died soon afterward, and I hated the memories I associated with the land. So I decided to travel to my mother’s country. She had often told me that nature there was most sacred and solitary.

“One hot morning I came to Shaping’s Causeway. It is so called either because Shaping once crossed it, or because of its stupendous character. It is a natural embankment, twenty miles long, which links the mountains bordering my homeland with the Ifdawn Marest. The valley lies below at a depth varying from eight to ten thousand feet—a terrible precipice on either side. The knife edge of the ridge is generally not much over a foot wide. The causeway goes due north and south. The valley on my right hand was plunged in shadow—that on my left was sparkling with sunlight and dew. I walked fearfully along this precarious path for some miles. Far to the east the valley was closed by a lofty tableland, connecting the two chains of mountains, but overtopping even the most towering pinnacles. This is called the Sant Levels. I was never there, but I have heard two curious facts concerning the inhabitants. The first is that they have no women; the second, that though they are addicted to travelling in other parts they never acquire habits of the peoples with whom they reside.

“One hot morning I came to Shaping’s Causeway. It is called that either because Shaping once crossed it, or because it is so immense. It is a natural embankment, twenty miles long. It links the mountains bordering my homeland with the Ifdawn Marest. The valley lies eight to ten thousand feet below, with a terrifying drop on either side. The ridge is as narrow as a knife edge, usually little more than a foot wide. The causeway runs due north and south. The valley on my right lay in shadow, while the valley on my left sparkled with sunlight and dew. I walked fearfully along this dangerous path for several miles. Far to the east, a high plateau closed off the valley. It connected the two mountain ranges, but rose above even their tallest peaks. It is called the Sant Levels. I have never been there, but I have heard two curious facts about its inhabitants. The first is that they have no women. The second is that, although they love traveling elsewhere, they never adopt the habits of the peoples they live among.

“Presently I turned giddy, and lay at full length for a great while, clutching the two edges of the path with both hands, and staring at the ground I was lying on with wide-open eyes. When that passed I felt like a different man and grew conceited and gay. About halfway across I saw someone approaching me a long way off. This put fear into my heart again, for I did not see how we could very well pass. However, I went slowly on, and presently we drew near enough together for me to recognise the walker. It was Slofork, the so-called sorcerer. I had never met him before, but I knew him by his peculiarities of person. He was of a bright gamboge colour and possessed a very long, proboscis-like nose, which appeared to be a useful organ, but did not add to his beauty, as I knew beauty. He was dubbed ‘sorcerer’ from his wondrous skill in budding limbs and organs. The tale is told that one evening he slowly sawed his leg off with a blunt stone and then lay for two days in agony while his new leg was sprouting. He was not reputed to be a consistently wise man, but he had periodical flashes of penetration and audacity that none could equal.

“Soon I grew dizzy and lay stretched out for a long time. I gripped both edges of the path and stared wide-eyed at the ground beneath me. When the dizziness passed, I felt like a different man and became conceited and cheerful. About halfway across, I saw someone approaching in the distance. I felt afraid again, because I could not see how we could pass each other. Still, I went on slowly. Soon we were close enough for me to recognize the walker. It was Slofork, the so-called sorcerer. I had never met him before, but I knew him by his distinctive appearance. He was a bright gamboge yellow and had a very long nose like a trunk. It looked useful, but it did not make him beautiful, as I understood beauty. He was called a ‘sorcerer’ because of his extraordinary skill at growing limbs and organs. The story goes that one evening he slowly sawed off his leg with a blunt stone. Then he lay in agony for two days while his new leg grew. He was not thought to be consistently wise. But from time to time he had flashes of insight and daring that no one could match.

“We sat down and faced one another, about two yards apart.

“We sat down facing each other, about two yards apart.

“‘Which of us walks over the other?’ asked Slofork. His manner was as calm as the day itself, but, to my young nature, terrible with hidden terrors. I smiled at him, but did not wish for this humiliation. We continued sitting thus, in a friendly way, for many minutes.

“‘Which of us walks over the other?’ asked Slofork. He was as calm as the day itself, but to my young mind, he was terrifying because of the fears he hid. I smiled at him, but I did not want this humiliation. We sat together like that, as friends, for many minutes.

“‘What is greater than Pleasure?’ he asked suddenly.

“I was at an age when one wishes to be thought equal to any emergency, so, concealing my surprise, I applied myself to the conversation, as if it were for that purpose we had met.

“I was at an age when I wanted people to think I could handle any emergency. So I hid my surprise and joined the conversation, as if we had met for that purpose.

“‘Pain,’ I replied, ‘for pain drives out pleasure.’

“‘Pain,’ I replied, ‘because pain drives out pleasure.’

“‘What is greater than Pain?’

“I reflected. ‘Love. Because we will accept our loved one’s share of pain.’

“I thought about it. ‘Love. Because we will take on our loved one’s share of pain.’

“‘But what is greater than Love?’ he persisted.

“‘But what is greater than Love?’ he asked again.

“‘Nothing, Slofork.’

“‘And what is Nothing?’

“‘That you must tell me.’

“‘You must tell me that.’

“‘Tell you I will. This is Shaping’s world. He that is a good child here, knows pleasure, pain, and love, and gets his rewards. But there’s another world—not Shaping’s—and there all this is unknown, and another order of things reigns. That world we call Nothing—but it is not Nothing, but Something.’

“‘I’ll tell you. This is Shaping’s world. A good child here knows pleasure, pain, and love, and receives rewards. But there’s another world that isn’t Shaping’s. There, none of this is known, and a different order of things rules. We call that world Nothing, but it isn’t Nothing. It’s Something.’

“There was a pause.

“‘I have heard,’ said I, ‘that you are good at growing and ungrowing organs?’

“‘I’ve heard,’ I said, ‘that you’re good at growing and ungrowing organs?’

“‘That’s not enough for me. Every organ tells me the same story. I want to hear different stories.’

“‘Is it true, what men say, that your wisdom flows and ebbs in pulses?’

“‘Is it true, as people say, that your wisdom rises and falls in pulses?’

“‘Quite true,’ replied Slofork. ‘But those you had it from did not add that they have always mistaken the flow for the ebb.’

“‘Quite true,’ Slofork replied. ‘But the people who told you that didn’t add that they have always mistaken the incoming tide for the outgoing tide.’

“‘My experience is,’ said I sententiously, ‘that wisdom is misery.’

“‘In my experience,’ I said solemnly, ‘wisdom is misery.’

“‘Perhaps it is, young man, but you have never learned that, and never will. For you the world will continue to wear a noble, awful face. You will never rise above mysticism.... But be happy in your own way.’

“‘Perhaps it is, young man, but you have never learned that, and you never will. To you, the world will always seem noble and terrifying. You will never rise above mysticism.... But be happy in your own way.’

“Before I realised what he was doing, he jumped tranquilly from the path, down into the empty void. He crashed with ever-increasing momentum toward the valley below. I screeched, flung myself down on the ground, and shut my eyes.

“Before I realized what he was doing, he calmly jumped off the path into the empty void. He plunged toward the valley below, falling faster and faster. I screamed, threw myself to the ground, and shut my eyes.

“Often have I wondered which of my ill-considered, juvenile remarks it was that caused this sudden resolution on his part to commit suicide. Whichever it might be, since then I have made it a rigid law never to speak for my own pleasure, but only to help others.

“I have often wondered which of my thoughtless, childish remarks made him suddenly decide to kill himself. Whatever I said, I have followed a strict rule ever since. I speak only to help others, never for my own pleasure.

“I came eventually to the Marest. I threaded its mazes in terror for four days. I was frightened of death, but still more terrified at the possibility of losing my sacred attitude toward life. When I was nearly through, and was beginning to congratulate myself, I stumbled across the third extraordinary personage of my experience—the grim Muremaker. It was under horrible circumstances. On an afternoon, cloudy and stormy, I saw, suspended in the air without visible support, a living man. He was hanging in an upright position in front of a cliff—a yawning gulf, a thousand feet deep, lay beneath his feet. I climbed as near as I could, and looked on. He saw me, and made a wry grimace, like one who wishes to turn his humiliation into humour. The spectacle so astounded me that I could not even grasp what had happened.

“I eventually came to the Marest. For four days, I made my way through its mazes in terror. I was afraid of death, but even more afraid of losing my sacred attitude toward life. I was nearly through and beginning to congratulate myself when I stumbled upon the third extraordinary person I had encountered, the grim Muremaker. The circumstances were horrible. One cloudy, stormy afternoon, I saw a living man suspended in the air, with nothing visible holding him up. He hung upright in front of a cliff. A gaping chasm, a thousand feet deep, lay beneath his feet. I climbed as close as I could and watched. He saw me and made a wry face, as if trying to make a joke of his humiliation. The sight astonished me so much that I could not even understand what had happened.

“‘I am Muremaker,’ he cried in a scraping voice which shocked my ears. ‘All my life I have sorbed others—now I am sorbed. Nuclamp and I fell out over a woman. Now Nuclamp holds me up like this. While the strength of his will lasts I shall remain suspended; but when he gets tired—and it can’t be long now—I drop into those depths.’

“‘I am Muremaker,’ he cried in a scraping voice that shocked my ears. ‘All my life I have sorbed others. Now I am sorbed. Nuclamp and I fell out over a woman. Now Nuclamp holds me up like this. I will remain suspended as long as his will is strong enough. But when he gets tired, I will drop into those depths. It can’t be long now.’

“Had it been another man, I would have tried to save him, but this ogre-like being was too well known to me as one who passed his whole existence in tormenting, murdering, and absorbing others, for the sake of his own delight. I hurried away, and did not pause again that day.

“If it had been another man, I would have tried to save him. But I knew this ogre-like being too well. He spent his whole life tormenting, murdering, and absorbing others for his own pleasure. I hurried away and did not stop again that day.

“In Poolingdred I met Joiwind. We walked and talked together for a month, and by that time we found that we loved each other too well to part.”

“In Poolingdred I met Joiwind. We walked and talked together for a month. By then, we realized we loved each other too much to part.”

Panawe stopped speaking.

“That is a fascinating story,” remarked Maskull. “Now I begin to know my way around better. But one thing puzzles me.”

“That’s a fascinating story,” said Maskull. “Now I’m starting to understand my surroundings better. But one thing puzzles me.”

“What’s that?”

“How it happens that men here are ignorant of tools and arts, and have no civilisation, and yet contrive to be social in their habits and wise in their thoughts.”

“How is it that men here know nothing of tools or crafts and have no civilization, yet still live socially and think wisely.”

“Do you imagine, then, that love and wisdom spring from tools? But I see how it arises. In your world you have fewer sense organs, and to make up for the deficiency you have been obliged to call in the assistance of stones and metals. That’s by no means a sign of superiority.”

“Do you think love and wisdom come from tools? But I see how this belief arises. In your world, you have fewer sense organs. To make up for that, you have had to use stones and metals. That is certainly not a sign of superiority.”

“No, I suppose not,” said Maskull, “but I see I have a great deal to unlearn.”

“No, I guess not,” said Maskull, “but I see I have a lot to unlearn.”

They talked together a little longer, and then gradually fell asleep. Joiwind opened her eyes, smiled, and slumbered again.

They talked a little longer, then gradually fell asleep. Joiwind opened her eyes, smiled, and fell asleep again.