With riot subdued and order restored, those scheduled to
leave the Combat College packed up, then took their final pay and
spent it. With the last of their Combat College pay they bought
goods freshly fabricated by the marvelous machineries of the
Nexus: books, bolts of cloth, blocks of chocolate, toys and such
minor medicines as could be freely bought from the canteen. Then
for one last time they made their way through the cream-colored
corridors to the lockway. After an earlier lapse, the lighting
near the lockway had been restored to normal. But as for the dorgi
- ah, that was quite abnormal, for that mechanized dog-beast had
withdrawn to its lair, where it was sulking.
        The inner airlock filled with members of the graduating class
and their possessions. Once full, it closed.
        A scattering of Combat Cadets, Startroopers and guests were
left to wait for the next cycle. Among them, Manfred Gan Oliver
and his son Lupus.
        "I will see you shortly," said Gan Oliver pleasantly,
addressing his comment to Hatch.
        Lupus said nothing. Trying, perhaps, not to cry.
        "We will meet when we meet," said Hatch, wishing to see the
man gone, "but I have some sleep to catch up on before I think of
leaving here."
        "You and yours will necessarily leave the Combat College
soon," said Gan Oliver. "I will be waiting for you. I will be
waiting to supervise your deaths."
        This was said in an everyday conversational tone.
        "I'm sure you will prove a most competent executioner," said
Hatch, matching Gan Oliver in tone.
        Asodo Hatch was far too tired to be originating style. Had
Gan Oliver screamed and yelled, then Hatch would have matched him
in his histrionics.
        When Gan Oliver had been cycled through the airlock, Hatch
began to feel safe. He made his way to the Combat College
cafeteria, to which his wife had been taken by Shona. Hatch found
Talanta upset. She was crying. From the intensity of her grief,
Hatch immediately divined that someone had told her what Hatch had
done - had told her that he had rejected his god.
        "Love," said Hatch, trying to persuade himself that she was,
or had been, or could be his love.
        "Go away," she said.
        Where was the rhetoric when Hatch needed it most? Where were
the great speeches? Where was the flowing eloquence? In the face
of this most intimate and most personal emotional crisis, he found
himself almost mute.
        "My love," said Hatch, touching Talanta lightly, lightly on
the arm.
        "Go away!"
        Was this command seriously intended? Or was it an invitation
for Hatch to further explore the strategies of comfort?
        "I'll stay with her," said Shona, laying a hand on Hatch's
shoulder. "You go to your room."
        Hatch took this advice, and went striding away through the
corridors of the Combat College.
        - I have denied my god.
        - I have denied my god.
        Over and over, those words spoke themselves his mind. He had
declared himself in public. He could not undeclared his testimony.
        - But at least.
        - At least I won myself a chance.
        - A fighting chance.
        A fighting chance. That was what he had won. No more, no
less. He had killed Lupus Lon Oliver in an illusion tank battle.
But Lupus remained unkilled in the real world - and Lupus would
doubtless kill Hatch for real if given half a chance. Hatch's
throat still hurt where Lupus had tried to strangle him.
        - So what have I got?
        - What resources?
        - To hurt him, to kill him?
        - I'm the instructor. So.
        - Information!
        The realization struck Hatch with the force of a physical
blow. As instructor, he now had access to all Combat College files
previously denied to him. Or almost all. Certainly he would look
at his own file. And that held on the Silver Emperor - just in
case it might give him a clue as to where that worthy had vanished
to. Then he would look at all data held on Lupus Lon Oliver.
        Through the corridors of cream went Asodo Hatch, to the room
which had been his for so many years. There in that room,
unchanged, were his father's ashes and the ebony effigy of the
Great God Mokaragash. Same room, same man, same ashes and selfsame
idol.
        Yet all had changed.
        "Fates," said Hatch, feeling the full force of his
difficulties falling upon him, falling like blanketweights of
black and smothering snow.
        Still, he had done what he had done, and now he had to face
up to the consequences. Could he hope for help from Paraban Senk?
Could he hope for counsel and advice? Probably not. If anything,
Senk would probably tell Hatch to go on holiday. Seven days,
wasn't it? Yes, that was it. The triumphant instructor was
automatically given a seven day promotion furlough. Ha! A joke,
that. A bad joke. There were no time for holidays now. Hatch had
won his competitive examination, but his true trials were only
beginning.
        Hatch slumped into the seat in front of his room's display
screen. He knuckled his fists to his skull. Grief, but he was
tired. Well now: what first? What was he looking for? Data.
Secrets. Information. Leverage.
        "Access," said Hatch, addressing himself to the screen.
        In answer to his command, the face of Paraban Senk came to
life on his display screen.
        "Congratulations on your appointment," said Senk. "You did
well. You surprised me."
        "I surprised myself," said Hatch, in frank confession.
        "Then perhaps you will surprise both of us further in the
future," said Senk. "In earlier negotiations you said you could
seize Dalar ken Halvar for the Nu-chala-nuth. Can you tell me how
you plan to do this?"
        "I'm working on it," said Hatch. "Tell me how things now
stand in Dalar ken Halvar."
        So Senk gave Hatch a rundown of all the data which Senk had
gleaned from watching the kinema by means of the Eye of Delusions,
and by listening to (or explictly interrogating) the various
Combat Cadets, Startroopers and invited guests who had come and
gone as Hatch and Lupus were dueling. Senk believed that, though
the lower orders had looted freely under cover of night, the
Imperial Guard and the Free Corps now had the city under temporary
control.
        "So," said Hatch, "I cannot venture out into the city to
preach the doctrines of the Nu-chala-nuth, because the Free Corps
would kill me if I did. So, first ...."
        "What will you do first?" said Senk.
        "I will tell you in due course," said Hatch, who had
absolutely no idea what he would do first. "But before I do any
telling, I need the answers to some questions."
        "Ask your questions," said Senk.
        "Where did your face, name and personality come from?"
        "Way back in the days of the Nexus," said Paraban Senk, "a
master programmer designed the asma which runs the Combat College.
His name was Paraban Senk. It was Nexus policy that this
particular asma should be equipped with a fully functional human
personality which would take charge of the Combat College should
that tutorial facility be separated from the Nexus. So - "
        "So the master programmer designed this, this reserve
personality in his own image," said Hatch.
        "Precisely," said Senk. "When you talk to me, you talk, in
effect, to that programmer. You talk to a citizen of the Nexus.
Next question."
        Hatch took a deep breath then said:
        "What was the true relationship between the Nexus and the
Golden Gulag?"
        "You were taught this as part of your political studies
program when you were a child," said Senk.
        "Regardless of what I may or may not have been taught," said
Hatch, "I am still asking the question. What was the truth of that
relationship?"
        "The truth was stated to you in your political studies
program," said Senk stiffly. "I have nothing more to add to
that."
        "So," said Hatch.
        The Golden Gulag was the free enterprise prison empire which
had run the planet of Olo Malan in the days of the Chasm Gates.
Hatch had studied the official accounts of the relationship
between the Golden Gulag and the Nexus, and did not believe what
he had read there. But it seemed that Paraban Senk believed the
official line, or was not authorized to reveal the real truth,
which meant that Hatch was surely condemned to live in ignorance
of the facts.
        "Next question," said Senk.
        "How many planets have dorgis?" said Hatch.
        "Very few," said Senk. "Dorgis were ... dorgis were
experimental."
        "I thought as much," said Hatch.
        "Next question."
        Hatch tried to think of one, but drew a blank. He closed his
eyes briefly and saw green jungle, metallic seas, the flaming
smoke of aerial wreckage, a handful of confetti and the white
stars of the Nexus.
        Then he opened his eyes and said:
        "Who killed Hiji Hanojo?"
        "Why," said Senk, "you know the answer to that as well as I
do."
        "You mean you don't know," said Hatch.
        "Let's not play games with each other," said Senk. "You
killed him."
        Asodo Hatch was quite taken aback by this.
        "That's a nonsense!" said Hatch.
        "You had motive and opportunity," said Senk. "You - "
        "Go play this game in your own time," said Hatch. "Because
I'm not interested."
        "Very well," said Senk. "If you want to pretend yourself
innocent, then pretend. In the meantime, if you've no more
questions, then let's discuss our plans for the future."
        "What time is it?" said Hatch. "Outside, I mean?"
        "It is early afternoon," said Senk. "It is the early
afternoon on the Day of Two Fishes."
        "So I was dueling with Lupus Lon Oliver all through the
night."
        "And in the morning," said Senk.
        "Then," said Hatch, "logically, my next step is to get to
sleep, and that is exactly what I intend to do."
        Senk was not at all pleased with this, but in the end had to
acknowledge that Hatch's plan had a lot of wisdom. So Senk broke
contact with Hatch, and Hatch laid himself down on his bed, and
was plunged almost instantly into the deepest of sleeps.