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only to discover, then, that it was necessary to keep at least four novices or
postulants continuously employed at cranking the dynamo and adjusting the
arc-gap; thereupon, he begged that the lamp be removed-- but then it was
Paulo's turn to become insistent that it remain in place.
So it was that the scholar began his researches at the abbey, con-
tinuously aware of the three novices who toiled at the drivemill and the
fourth novice who invited glare-blindness atop the ladder to keep the lamp
burning and adjusted--a situation which caused the Poet to versify merci-
lessly concerning the demon Embarrassment and the outrages he perpe-
trated in the name of penitence or appeasement.
For several days the thon and his assistant studied the library itself, the
files, the monastery's records apart from the Memorabilia--as if by de-
termining the validity of the oyster, they might establish the possibility of
the pearl. Brother Kornhoer discovered the thon's assistant on his knees in
the entrance of the refectory, and for a moment he entertained the impression
that the fellow was performing some special devotion before the image of
Mary above the door, but a rattle of tools put an end to the illusion. The
assistant laid a carpenter's level across the entranceway and measured the
concave depression worn in the floor stones by centuries of monastic san-
dals.
"We're looking for ways of determining dates," he told Kornhoer when
questioned. "This seemed like a good place to establish a standard for rate of
wear, since the traffic's easy to estimate. Three meals per man per day since
the stones were laid."
that everything must be crossreferenced to the objective.
"A fascinating notion," murmured Kornhoer, and bent down to ex-
amine the man's sketch of a cross-section of the floor's concavity. "Why, it's
shaped like what Brother Majek calls a normal distribution curve. How
strange."
"Not strange. The probability of a footstep deviating from the cen-
ter-line would tend to follow the normal error function."
Kornhoer was enthralled. "I'll call Brother Majek," he said.
The abbot's interest in his guests' inspection of the premises was less
esoteric. "Why," he demanded of Gault, "are they making detailed drawings of
our fortifications?"
The prior looked surprised. "I hadn't heard of it. You mean Thon
Taddeo--"
"No. The officers that came with him. They're going about it quite
systematically."
"How did you find out?"
"The Poet told me."
"The Poet! Hah!"
"Unfortunately, he was telling the truth this time. He pickpocketed one of
their sketches."
"You have it?"
"No, I made him return it. But I don't like it. It's ominous."
"I suppose the Poet asked a price for the information?"
"Oddly enough, he didn't. He took an instant dislike to the thon.
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He's gone around muttering to himself ever since they came."
"The Poet has always muttered."
"But not in a serious vein."
"Why do you suppose they're making the drawings?"
Paulo made a grim mouth. "Unless we find out otherwise, we'll as-
sume their interest is recondite and professional. As a walled citadel, the
abbey has been a success. It's never been taken by siege or assault, and
perhaps their professional admiration is aroused."
I dont know yet.
"Why not talk to Thon Taddeo about it?"
"The officers aren't his servants. They were only sent as an escort to protect
him. What can he do?"
"He's Hannegan's kinsman, and he has influence."
The abbot nodded. "I'll try to think of a way to approach him on the matter.
We'll watch what's going on for a while first, though."
In the days that followed, Thon Taddeo completed his study of the oyster and,
apparently satisfied that it was not a disguised clam, focused his attention
on the pearl. The task was not simple.
Quantities of facsimile copy were scrutinized. Chains rattled and clanked as
the more precious books came down from their shelves. In the case of partially
damaged or deteriorated originals, it seemed unwise to trust the
facsimile-maker's interpretation and eyesight. The actual manu-
scripts dating back to Leibowitzian times which had been sealed in airtight
casks and locked in special storage vaults for indefinitely long preservation
were then brought out.
The thon's assistant assembled several pounds of notes. After the fifth day of
it, Thon Taddeo's pace quickened, and his manner reflected the eagerness of a
hungry hound catching scent of tasty game.
"Magnificent!" He vacillated between jubilation and amused incre-
dulity. "Fragments from a twentieth century physicist! The equations are even
consistent."
Kornhoer peered over his shoulder. "I've seen that," he said breathlessly. "I
could never make heads or tails of it. Is the subject matter important?"
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