was as much of the language as Oykib understood, but he knew that soon he would understand more. He had never had to learn a second language before, so that until now he had never known how easy it was. He had a talent for it. Or perhaps it was simply easier to learn a language if you had some understanding of the speakers before trying to grasp their speech.
Now, standing in the temple chamber, the light from the cloak illuminating every corner, Oykib could take a moment to look at the diggers gathered around the walls of the room. Their origin as rats was unmistakable, but so was the fact that the thousands of generations between them and their ancestors had changed them far more than the humans of Basilica had changed. The snout and whiskers were still prominent, but much less so than in their ancestors, and the jaw had changed shape to allow for speech. Oykib was eager to discuss with Shedemei what ali the other structural changes were for.
"Oykib," said Nafai.
That's right, he had a job to do. A little embarrassed at having allowed himself to daydream at such a tense moment, he stepped up beside Nafai. "Yes?" he said.
But Nafai didn't answer, just continued to stare at the statue that rested on a pedestal of tiny bones. It was a human head. But not just any human. The face was dearly Nafai's own.
"When could they have done this?" asked Nafai.
Oykib tried to sort out the many prayers going on in the room, and gradually gleaned a little information. "They didn't do it," he said. "They don't make their gods. The way they tell it, their gods make themselves. They're praising you for having given them such a perfect copy of your head."
"It is perfect," said Nafai. "Perhaps a little younger."
"Get this," said Oykib. "The head is a hundred years old."
"Impossible."
"It was fifty years ago when the queen found this statue in that tiny secluded chamber that you-blessed, or whatever it was you were doing."
"I hope I was blessing it," said Nafai.
"And it was fifty years old then. Apparently her relationship with that statue was pivotal in her life. It's because of you that she married the war king. Because you accepted her."
"Are you sure you're understanding this?" asked Nafai.
"Not at all," said Oykib. "But it's as clear as anything else I've understood. There's plenty of time to figure this all out. But one thing's sure. The head is older than any living digger. And they definitely claim they didn't make it themselves, though how their clay gods could make themselves I can't imagine. They point out how perfectly the features have been preserved. This is because they worshipped you differently from the other gods. They didn't-this is kind of repulsive-they didn't rub your head in order to breed."
"So their other gods are involved in fertility worship."
"The images I'm getting are pretty nasty," said Oykib.
"Religion isn't always pretty," said Nafai. "Especially viewed from the outside, by an unbeliever. So they use the other statues as part of a mating ritual, but mine they left alone."
"Because you were so ugly." Oykib couldn't keep a bit of laughter out of his voice.
"To them, I'm sure," said Nafai. "Just imagine what they would have thought if it had been your head."
"Babies would have run screaming from the cave, I'm sure."
"So what do I do with this sculpture?"
"Invent a ritual, Nafai. You've been winging it pretty well so far."
So Nafai sank to his knees before the statue and improvised a fairly simple and harmless sort of obeisance. When he was done, he got up and smiled at Oykib. "This is kind of embarrassing," he said. "To have people worshipping me. Though there are those who'll be bound to say that it's what I've secretly longed for all my life."
"So don't tell them that you're being worshipped."
"I can't conceal something like this. My face, carved a hundred years ago. Since I certainly did not sculpt it, someone did. And someone knew what I looked like."
"The Keeper, obviously."
"Yes, but don't you understand? It means that the Keeper knew things about us here on Earth at a time when-well, when the information couldn't possibly have traveled at lightspeed. At the speed of light, the Keeper would have to have seen my face almost eighty years before I was born in order to have this carved a hundred years ago."
"So we don't know everything about physics. Hardly a surprise, since the Oversoul was keeping