telepather pack from his shoulder and set it in the dust. Mara sat on a
low rock beside him.

"Will an alien god do?" Rynason said.

Malhomme's eyes rested on the telepather for a moment. "You spoke with
Kor?" he asked.

Rynason nodded slowly. "I made a linkage with one of the Hirlaji, and
tapped the race-memory. I suppose you could say I spoke with Kor."

"You have touched the alien godhead," Malhomme mused. "Then it's real?
Their god is real?"

"No," said Rynason. "Kor is a machine."

Malhomme's head jerked up. "A machine? _Deus ex machina_, to quote an
ancient curse. We make our own machines, and make gods of them." The
tired lines of his face relaxed. "Well, that's a bit better. The gods
remain a myth, and it's better that way."

Rynason stood over him on the windy Flat, still puzzled by his manner.
He glanced at Mara, but she too was watching Malhomme, waiting for him
to speak again.

Suddenly, Malhomme laughed, a dry laugh which almost rasped in his
throat. "Lee Rynason, I have called men to God for so long that I almost
began to believe it myself. And when the men started talking about the
god of these aliens...." He shook his head, the spent laughter still
drawing his mouth back into a grin. "Well, I'm glad it isn't true.