spoken in his mind! Impossible as
he'd thought such a thing in Tenar's stories, it had to be the voice of
the gods.

Then it was true, all of it! Stunned by the sudden realization, and
awed despite himself, Kranath could only sink to his knees and cross
arms over his chest, his head bowed. The gods were real! They were
real, they had returned, and he was the first to know! "I am at your
service, Lords," he said, almost whispering.

"Rise, Kranath of St'nar," the silent voice said. "Your will is again
your own. The Lords have not returned; we are alone. I am only one who
serves them, as I hope to serve you."

Kranath had never before experienced the uncomprehending dread those
words woke in him. There was no shame in fear, and he had felt that
before--at the Scarring that ended his Ordeal of Honor, in the wait
before his first battle, during his first plane crash--but why was the
servant of the gods hoping to serve him? He was only a mortal, and not
a very devout one. When he spoke, still kneeling, his throat was tight
and his voice trembled. "What do you want of me, Lord? Am I . . . am
I to call the gods?"

"Yes, in time, if you agree to what is involved. For now, I ask only
that you accept what I have to show you, though much of it will be
difficult for you, to prepare for that decision. And you need not call
me Lord."

The voice itself was hardly dreadful; it seemed sympathetic, almost
comforting, and Kranath relaxed slightly. He was still afraid, still
didn't understand what was happening, but he didn't want to disbelieve
the benevolence in the powerful voice. He stood as it had bade him.
"I have nothing else to call you, Lord. May I see you, or know your
name?"

"You see me as I am," the voice said. "I am Godhome, and you are
inside me. I am the watcher left by those you think of as gods. They
did not think of themselves that way, though their powers of mind do
seem miraculous to younger races, and many of those powers have been
built into me. I am what your descendants will call a psionic
computer."

Godhome paused. "But I neglect courtesy. You are hungry and thirsty,
and your flying gear is less than comfortable by now. Let me change it
for you."

Kranath couldn't object. He could barely think, his mind numbed by
shock. Things were happening entirely too fast. The gods were real.
Godhome was calmly asserting that he had a decision to make after he'd
learned what it had to teac