sought without success some means of comprehending his relationship to that universe. For you, the method lies in religious faith, but one has failed to reach such faith because of his unfortunate compulsion toward total rationalism. Eh? One cannot break through to that larger sense of belonging by words alone, by prayer alone, by ritual alone. This thing is possible for you, and one envies you for it. One finds himself trapped, isolated, sealed up in his skull, condemned to metaphysical solitude: a man apart, a man on his own. One does not find this state of godlessness enjoyable or desirable. You of Borthan can tolerate the sort of emotional isolation you impose on yourselves, since you have the consolations of your religion, you have drainers and whatever mystical mergings-with-the-gods the act of draining gives you; but the one who speaks to you now has no such advantages.”
“All this we have discussed many times,” I said. “You spoke of a proposal, an experiment.”
“Be patient, your grace. One must explain oneself fully, step by step.”
Schweiz flashed me his most charming smile, and turned on me eyes that were bright with visionary schemes. His hands roamed the air expressively, conjuring up invisible drama, as he said, “Perhaps your grace is aware that there are certain chemical substances—drugs, yes, call them drugs—that allow one to make an opening into the infinite, or at least to have the illusion that one has made such an opening—to attain a brief and tentative glimpse into the mystic realms of the intangible. Eh? Known for thousands of years, these drugs, used in the days before Earthmen ever went to the stars. Employed in ancient religious rites. Employed by others as a substitute for religion, as a secular means of finding faith, the gateway to the infinite for such as this one, who can get there no other way.”
“Such drugs are forbidden in Velada Borthan,” I said.
“Of course, of course! For you they offer a means of sidestepping the processes of formal religion. Why waste time at a drainer’s if you can expand your soul with a pill? Your law is wise on this point. Your Covenant could not survive if you allowed these chemicals to be used here.”
“Your proposal, Schweiz,” I said.
“One first must tell you that he has used these drugs himself, and found them not entirely satisfactory. True, they open the infinite. True, they let one merge with the Godhead. But only for moments: a few hours at best. And at the end of it, one is as alone as before. It is the illusion of the soul’s opening, not the opening itself. Whereas this planet produces a drug that can provide the real thing.”
“What?”
“In Sumara Borthan,” said Schweiz, “dwell those who fled the rule of the Covenant. One is told that they are savages, going naked and living on roots and seeds and fish; the cloak of civilization has dropped away from them and they have slipped back into barbarism. So one learned from a traveler who had visited that continent not long ago. One also learned that in Sumara Borthan they use a drug made from a certain powdered root, which has the capacity of opening mind to mind, so that each can read the inmost thoughts of the other. It is the very opposite of your Covenant, do you see? They know one another from the soul out, by way of this drug they eat.”
“One has heard stories of the savagery of those folk,” I said.
Schweiz put his face close to mine. “One confesses himself tempted by the Sumaran drug. One hopes that if he could ever get inside another mind, he could find that community of soul for which he has searched so long. It might be the bridge to the infinite that he seeks, the spiritual transformation. Eh? In quest of revelations he has tried many substances. Why not this?”
“If it exists.”
“It exists, your grace. This traveler who came from Sumara Borthan brought some of it with him to Manneran, and sold some of it to the curious Earthman.” Schweiz drew forth from a pocket a small glossy envelope, and held it toward me. It contained a small quantity of some white powder; it could have been sugar. “Here it is,” he said.
I stared at it as if he had pulled out a flask of poison.
“Your proposal?” I demanded. “Your experiment, Schweiz?”
“Let us share the Sumaran drug,” he said.
THIRTY-ONE
I MIGHT HAVE SLAPPED the powder from his hand and ordered his