Far-Seer

They moved across the room, Afsan needing three steps for every two of hers. At the far side, she had a couple of wooden stools. He straddled one while Novato fetched a leather-bound book from a nearby bench. She swung a leg over her stool, too, and sat not far from Afsan, proffering the book. Afsan opened it, the stiff leather creaking slightly as he did so. At first he thought that she’d acquired the book full of empty pages, but then he saw the gut ties that pulled the spine together and he realized that she added each new leaf as the sketch on it was done. The leaves were large and square and the sketches seemed to have been created with a combination of graphite and charcoal.

And what sketches they were! Novato had a keen eye and a steady, practiced hand. Add to that the fact that she had done most of her observations through a more powerful far-seer and the results were breathtaking. At the bottom of each page she had noted the name of the object depicted and the date and time she had made the observation.

The first page showed Slowpoke, Afsan’s favorite moon, as a thin crescent with a ragged edge—mountains like predator teeth—along the demarcation between lit and unlit parts.

The next showed another moon, Swift Runner. Its surface, seen in a gibbous view, looked like spilled entrails, fresh from a kill. Lumpy forms covered its face, each shaded a little differently with charcoal smudges or graphite cross-hatchings.

Several more views of moons followed, and then Novato showed Afsan her sketches of the planets. She had devoted five pages to Kevpel, the planet Afsan believed, although he hadn’t yet told Novato this, to be the next closest to the sun from the Face of God.

The first sketch showed Kevpel with a diagonal line through it, almost as if Novato had meant to strike out the sketch, unhappy with the result. But why add it to the bound collection if that were so? The next showed Kevpel with handles coming out of each side, like a drinking bowl, similar to the handles Afsan had observed on Bripel during the voyage of the Dasheter. The third page also showed Kevpel with handles, but they seemed larger, more open. The fourth showed another view, with the handles oriented differently again. And the fifth, like the first, seemed to have a line through Kevpel, although this line was canted at an opposite angle to the one on the first page.

“What do you make of those?” asked Novato.

Afsan looked up. “The ones with handles are like what I saw on Bripe! when I observed it with the far-seer.”

“Yes, I’ve got a similar set of studies of Bripel. It’s much like Kevpel.”

“But,” said Afsan, “I don’t understand the ones with the lines through them.”

“They are the same thing. The handles seem to be thin indeed. When seen edge on, they all but disappear. In fact,” and here Novato lowered her voice, somewhat embarrassed, “I have to admit that in that last sketch what I drew as a continuous line really looked like a few broken line segments. But I knew it must be continuous; I knew it.”

Afsan’s mind raced ahead. “It’s almost like a torus, or a ring, around the planet.”

“Yes.”

“A solid ring. Incredible. It would be like a gigantic guvdok stone. Or like those great lava flows that harden into flat pathways, only in the sky, floating. Imagine walking on such a thing!”

Novato lifted the book from Afsan’s lap, thumbed it to find a particular page near the back, and returned the volume to him.

“Look at that,” she said.

“Yes?” Afsan said blankly.

“See the planet in the foreground?”

“Yes,” said Afsan. “It’s Kevpel again, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. Do you recognize the pattern of stars in the background?”

“It’s the Skull of Katoon, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. Look at the star representing Katoon’s right eye.”

Afsan scanned the page, noting the silvery-gray marks that Novato had used to indicate stars. “It’s behind the ring around Kevpel.”

“Say that again,” said Novato.

“I said, it’s behind the ring around Kevpel—by the prophet’s claws, it’s behind the ring, but still visible! The ring must be glass. No, that can’t be right; we’d never see it. It must be—it must not be solid; maybe it’s made up of pieces of—what?—rock? It looks solid—”

“From this distance, yes. But up close,” said Novato, “I bet it’s made up of countless tiny fragments.”

“Amazing.”

“And Bripel has such a ring, too,” said Novato.

“Yes.” Afsan wrinkled his muzzle in thought. “Then why doesn’t the Face of God have a ring?”

This took Novato completely by surprise. Her jaw dropped open, showing teeth, something one never did in polite company. “What do you mean?”