The Ealdred smiled slightly and studied his face. "A number of reasons. You've been very intense lately, with outstanding results. Such intensity, however, is highly draining. I think the ground time would be good for you. I would also appreciate an update on the situation in Salathiel. The records are often lopsided and biased. You remain close, yet remarkably neutral. That makes you very reliable. Would you resent being used this way?"

Soren smiled, then chuckled softly. They had had an argument over this, following his last visit. "No sir. Not when it's up front that I'm being used. That's what I'm for, right?"

He smiled and nodded. "Right."

"Anything specific?"

"Yes. The records seem to have lost interest in Arion and I would like to know if the people have as well."

Soren frowned. Simply asking Arion for his opinion the Ealdred could - and would - have done himself. Asking the citizens of Salathiel could - and would - rekindle the attention that the Ealdred wanted to subside. "How do you want me to go about it sir?"

"Observe. Just watch and see. Don't look for anything in particular, because then you might miss something subtle. You know how to watch people Soren, I've seen you do it," he said, cutting off his objections before he made them. "I'm hoping to allow you a full week. Just watch and listen, then tell me about it."

"A whole week?" he asked then, orienting on something he could grasp. A working vacation was still a vacation.

"Pov time," he clarified, "but yes. One full week."

A standard week would be longer than Pov's rotations, since her days were rather short, but one week was generous by any measure. "Anything else?"

"Yes. Don't forget to enjoy yourself."

Soren smiled. "Yes, sir."

"Ahoy, Captain!" Soren shouted. "Permission to come aboard!"

"Soren?" Arion appeared instantly. "Soren! What are you doing here?"

Instead of answering, he feigned insult, shrugging. "I thought you'd be glad to see me, but no! You don't even want me on your stupid boat."

Arion grinned. "She's a gremlin, not a boat, and come ahead already. What are you doing here though?"

"I came to see that fisherman guy, Salty." he said as he climbed up. "You promised I could meet him next time."

"Promised? I did not!" he protested. "How long are you here for?"

He shrugged, unconcerned. "A couple of days I think," he said casually. "Maybe a week. I decided to take a mini leave."

Arion looked at him suspiciously. "You decided," he echoed, knowing better.

"Yeah."

Arion looked like he would question it, but then thought better of it. He understood. "A whole week?" he asked hopefully.

"Maybe. If I'm lucky. So you catching any fish off this old rock?"

He grinned. "Sometimes. I'm learning. I've got another job too now that helps some."

"Yeah? Doing what?"

He smiled and cocked his head. "Singing, actually. Very informal music lessons for the extended session kids after school. Twice a week for about an hour each time. Glorified babysitting, but it's an awful lot of fun." His eyebrows rose as he shrugged his shoulders. "Seems to be helping my reputation too. Like maybe I'm not such a freak after all."

Soren smiled, stifling a blossoming hope as premature. "That's good," he said, sincere despite his own reservations. "Maybe you can work your way into a bigger position."

He nodded. "Maybe. I like it this way for now though. Little bit at a time, and I actually caught enough fish last week to do some decent trading."

"You just might learn to be self sufficient yet," Soren jibed. "So what about this Salty guy? He teaching you how to fish still?"

"How and where. But it's just Salt, not Salty. Come on. We'll see if we can find him." Arion started the fans, lifting the Pier Mignon above the water. She was a lovely craft, stable and comfortable, and Soren found himself unsuitably envious. He wouldn't trade places with Arion for anything, but he was unable to stifle his longing for the tranquility she represented. Arion grinned at him and fed her power, and soon they were streaking across the water.

They found Salt quite easily. Arion claimed surprise, but he was clearly taking revenge so Soren suspected he had known all along. Salt greeted them warmly and invited them aboard. His was no mere gremlin, but a fully functional fishing craft. He rummaged in a hold and brought two folding canvas stools, identical to the one he himself had been using. "Sit, sit. What brings you out?"

Soren smiled. He had expected a gruff, crusty old seadog, but Salt was warm and utterly relaxed. Simply dressed in long pants, a sweat-shirt and blue canvas deck shoes, he moved with an easy grace that challenged his alleged age. While his face was admittedly wrinkled, his eyes were clear and alive; while his hair was admittedly white, it covered his head with healthy curls. "I've heard a little about you, and I was curious. I wanted to meet you."

He nodded. "And I've heard a great deal about you."

"Enough to get me in trouble?" he asked, not at all surprised.

He shrugged. "What kind of trouble?"

Soren laughed. "Never mind! Is it true you don't remember your own name?"

"Sure I do. My name's Salt." He grinned, making it clear that he knew quite well what Soren was talking about, and that he had no intention of giving him any satisfaction.

Soren glanced at Arion, leaned close and whispered, "Maybe he's getting senile too?"

Arion stifled his laugh but Salt didn't bother. "There's plenty of people who think so!" Salt said heartily, still chuckling.

"Really?" Soren asked, surprised. "Why?"

"Because you can never get a straight answer out of him, that's why."

"No," Salt disagreed, drawing the word out slowly as he fixed Arion with steady brown eyes. "It's because I do give straight answers, only nobody understands. Including you."

The mood had abruptly changed despite Salt's continued smile and Soren tensed for a moment, trying to place it. "Such as?" he asked, testing.

"Go ahead Soren," Arion said, smiling challenge. "Ask him a question."

Soren eyed them both, certain he was being set up. Then, returning the challenge, he asked, "What do you think of Arion's situation?"

"That's easy. I think people give him a hard time, and I think he gives himself a hard time too."

"You sound as if you don't believe Arion," he said, pressing.

Salt smiled and gazed directly at Soren. "Do you know whether he's right or wrong?"

"I've wanted to believe him for a long time, but I just can't, and I can't pretend I do."

"So you don't believe. But do you know?"

Soren shifted uneasily under the persistent gaze. "If you mean can I prove it, no I can't. Nobody can. That's why everybody's arguing about it."

"I didn't ask if you could prove it. I asked if you know. Do you know if he's right or wrong?"

Soren held his gaze, unable to escape it. "No," he said, understanding. "I don't believe it, but I can't say I know."

Salt relaxed. "Neither do I, so I don't worry about it."

"But you must have an opinion!"

He smiled, his eyes laughing. "I do. My opinion is that I don't know."

"See what I mean?" asked Arion.

He looked briefly at him without answering, then back at Salt. "I think I understand you," he said slowly, "but I wouldn't know how to live with that kind of answer. How do you do it?"

"By taking life as it comes," he said seriously. "People like rules because they're easy. They don't want to think, and they don't know how to listen."

Soren frowned, leaning back, but the stool had no back so he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared at his hands. "...I'm sorry," he said, looking up again, "but I'm afraid you've lost me. What does thinking and listening have to do with not knowing if Arion's right or not? Not caring that you don't know isn't thinking about it, and it's not listening either."

"Only because you want everything right now. You want to feel as though you know what you're doing. You want to be in control," he said, stressing the last, grasping the air before him and shaking it. "I'm talking about faith, boy. Surrendering to the unknown and giving up control. And don't put words in my mouth. I never said I didn't care. I said I didn't know."

Soren shifted uncomfortably, irritated and unsure. "And what makes you think I'm in control?"

Salt's shoulders sagged and he dropped his eyes, clearly feeling he'd lost his audience. If nothing else, he seemed to have lost interest. Soren was simply one more on a long list of "people who don't understand," and any effort to enlighten him was probably a waste of time. Soren's jaw tightened.

"What makes me think you're in control?" Salt echoed softly, not looking up yet. He sighed heavily, then gazed out at the water. "Because you want to know the rules. You want rules so that you know what to do ahead of time." He shook his head wearily.

"When I say I don't know," Salt continued, "then yes, I don't have to think about it right now. I leave it to think about if and when the time comes, and then," he turned and looked at Soren again, "then I judge that one situation all by itself. Next time the answer may be different. You have to listen for an answer each time and let the Spirit of God talk to you one situation at a time, because each one is unique to itself. What's right this time may be wrong for the next. I don't try to decide ahead of time."

Soren shook his head, fighting the defensiveness that dominated his emotions. "I don't mean any disrespect sir, but maybe that's all right for you. Out here on the sea you can take life as it comes. But not for me. I can't. I have to know ahead of time," he said, forcing the words out as his throat constricted. "If I hesitate, my friends die."

Once again Salt's brown eyes held his. "Are you also in control of life and death?" he asked softly.

Soren sat perfectly still, his jaw clenched tight, wishing desperately that he could get up and walk away, but he was trapped. He had nowhere to go on the fishing boat, and he couldn't simply leave in Arion's gremlin. Arion had apparently told him about Peter, and the old goat was too crass to leave it alone. "I am responsible," he said levelly, carefully replacing Salt's use of the word control.

Salt shook his head, his eyes darkening. "What a burden they have given you," he almost whispered. "You are only responsible to try your best, and only God can decide who lives and who dies. His answers can come lightning fast if needed, and if someone dies because you hesitate, then that too is God's will."

Soren stared at him, not daring to look at Arion. "Fatalism is a lame excuse to avoid responsibility," he said carefully. "It may be an adequate answer for a fisherman, but peoples' lives aren't depending on you."

"I've lived a long time. I can remember when the venators first came. Telling you what I know and where I've been would be long and tedious, and not worth the telling. And even if I did, you'd still have to make your own way and your own decisions. I'm not telling you you're wrong, son, I'm simply saying that there's more than one right answer. And some things we simply aren't meant to know."

Soren's wrath seeped away, leaving him merely angry and sulking and feeling foolish.

After a dreadfully long silence, Arion punched him in the arm. "See what I mean?"

Soren tried to laugh, to smile, but failed at both.

"So I'm too hard on myself," Arion continued blithely to Salt, picking up the ball Soren had dropped. "Because I'm trying to have an answer for everyone?"

Salt chuckled. "No. Because you expect one for yourself. You're still trying to force rules on a situation geared for faith. There are only two rules: love God, and love your neighbor. The rest is just an elaboration of the two."

"And what do I do if my neighbors are fighting?" Arion asked quietly.

"Ask God. And listen."

"You make it sound simple, but it isn't."

Salt chuckled. "It is simple. It just isn't easy. Especially when God starts monkeying around with your extra rules. Or someone else's." He paused, looking out across the ocean. "You two had best be heading for shore. Weather's coming in, and that little gremlin won't care for it."

"Do I need to beach her?"

Salt shrugged. "Wouldn't hurt."

They rose and Salt stood with them. Soren extended his hand, and Salt accepted it. "Food for thought," said Soren.

Salt smiled. "Don't get a bellyache."

Soren laughed once and shook his head, smiling. "Thanks." He turned and shoved Arion toward the side of the boat. "Go on! The old seadog says weather's coming in, and I don't want to get caught in it."

Arion sprang lightly over the side, escaping further abuse, and landed nimbly on the gremlin's tilting deck. Soren descended more cautiously and staggered anyway. He glared at Arion who pretended first not to notice, then caught his eye and grinned brightly at him. "Later," Soren mouthed silently.

Arion laughed, then waved to Salt. "See you later, Salt! Thanks!"

That night the storm raged about the cabin of the beached gremlin, rocking her gently with furious winds. The next morning dawned gray and dripping, but the storm had passed. "So, what are your plans for today?" Soren asked as they sat eating breakfast.

"I'm supposed to go collecting with Rita. After this rain, she'll be twice as eager to go."

"Why? Collecting what?"

"Herbs and such. And there's some sort of a little mushroom that springs up after a rain. She was telling me about it the other day."

"She's a naturalist, huh? Likes all her seasoning fresh?"

Arion shook his head. "No. I mean, yeah, but that's not why. It's what she does. She collects for the whole village. Not just seasonings, but for teas, medicine, all kinds of stuff."

"Is she teaching you a new trade then?" Soren asked, curious. Arion hadn't been too keen on his fishing as a livelihood.

"No. I wouldn't compete with her - even if I could," he added with a quick laugh.

Soren noted a sparkle in his eye and smiled. "Well, maybe I can clean up around here some, while you're gone."

Arion looked at him with surprised understanding. "No, no, no! You can come too. The more the merrier!"

Soren grinned and nodded, holding his eyes, questioning. Arion grinned and looked away. "So, what time is she coming?"

He looked back and shrugged, his hands dancing the irrelevance of time. "I don't know. Whenever. It'll be this morning though."

Soren was just finishing the breakfast dishes when she showed up. Arion greeted her with a friendly hug, then presented her to Soren. "Soren, this is Rita Shankar. Rita, my old wingmate, Soren Kelsi."

They smiled and shook hands. "Yes, we've already met," said Rita.

"You have? Oh, yeah, that's right..." His voice trailed off and his smile faded somewhat.

"Do we need anything special for this?" Soren asked, changing the subject.

"I already have what I'll need," said Rita, turning slightly to display a large canvas bag hanging from her shoulder.

"Well then, let's get started. Maybe with last night's rain, you can find some of those mushrooms you were telling me about."

"Yes. That's why I wanted to go today," she agreed. They set out, heading inland, and soon Rita turned west toward the mountain.

“So you knew the rain was coming, just like Salt did?”

Rita looked at him and smiled, amused. “You spend too much time on that Hammerstar if you can’t tell it’s going to rain,” she said teasingly. Soren smiled, laughing to cover his embarrassment, because, in fact he had never considered the rain or needing to know if it would or not. Rita saw her error and turned her attention to collecting a small plant. “So you’ve met Salt, have you? What do you think of him?”

“He’s interesting,” he hedged, not wanting to admit that he found him difficult to talk to. “We didn’t get to talk about much, except that I don’t believe venats have souls, and he seems happy to leave the question unanswered.”

“Well, what makes you think the venators don't have souls?" Rita asked him.

"What makes you think they do?" he countered, smiling.

"That's easy," she said, with a slight trace of coyness. "I think all animals have souls."

Soren frowned. "All animals? How? What about the ones we eat?"

"Them too."

He shook his head slowly, not wanting to offend her, but the idea was ridiculous. "I'm sorry, but I don't see it. That would be obscene."

"Why?"

"Because it would be, that's why," he said, baffled by her attitude. He could detect a slight amusement in her, but mostly she seemed mildly earnest. He couldn't help suspecting she was pulling his leg, but again, he didn't want to offend her. "It would be like humans eating humans. Would you eat a human being?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No, but I don't eat other animals either. I'm a vegetarian."

Soren took that in, then looked at Arion. He nodded affirmation, but he, too, seemed quite relaxed about the whole thing. "So how do you deal with everybody eating souls all around you?" he asked, imitating her placid sincerity.

"It's the way of nature," she said, smiling slightly. "Humans are part of nature, and God designed them to be omnivores. I don't fault people for being omnivores any more than I fault a wolf for being wolf. ...Or a venator for being a venator."

"So why are you a vegetarian?"

Now she grinned. "Because I can't stand seeing things die. I can't kill my own food, so it feels wrong to have someone else do it for me."

"It's part of nature," he offered.

She shrugged and laughed. "So I'm human."

"Is that what made you decide animals had souls? Because you can't stand to see them die?"

She grew serious, considering. "Partly, I'm sure, but mostly it just made sense. The more I heard, the more I saw, the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. What is a soul, anyway, but the life force that makes us alive?"

"It's an eternal image of God," Soren answered readily. On that much, at least, he had a firm grasp!

But Rita smiled easily, almost amused. "All of creation is an image of God. Do you think God looks like a human? Or does He look like the Marshandra? Or the Gryphusani? He could just as easily look like a flea. Or a dust mite. Did you know that there are bugs so tiny that they live on motes of dust?"

He laughed slightly. "I've heard of them. But I never thought of God looking like a bug!"

But Rita grew serious again. "The universe is finite. It's curved. It's like we're inside of a glass ball. Yet when we look at creation, it's boundaries are so immense. Did you know that there's an even littler bug that's a parasite on the dust mite? The smaller we go, there's still life. That's all what made me decide I believe in God in the first place."

"Made you decide?" he asked, startled.

"You've never questioned the existence of God?"

He shook his head slowly. "No, I guess I haven't. It's like questioning whether there's a sun in the sky."

"You can see the sun," she argued, disagreeing. "How do you know there's a God? How do you know we didn't just make Him up to keep ourselves company? How do you know you have a soul? How do you know we didn't just make them up because we didn't want to die?"

He gazed at her, startled. He had never heard such questions! He looked at Arion again, who grinned wryly. Finally, Soren laughed. "No wonder you like her, Arion! She's as contrary as you are!"

Arion laughed, but shook his head. "She's not contrary. She's imaginative, intelligent, and inquisitive. And she doesn't take everything as given."

"And a little speck of a bug on a thing of dust made you believe in God?"

She smiled. "It helped."

"And even that little bug has a soul?"

"Even the little bug on that bug has a soul."

He shook his head. "I don't know. That's all a little hard for me to swallow."

She smiled again. "You don't have to. Just because I believe it doesn't mean you have to believe it."

Soren pondered that for a moment, remembering the conversation Arion and Sparrow had once had about accepting differences. It had rankled then and it rankled now. “I always thought we had unity,” he mused quietly, feeling as though something precious was slipping away from him like melting ice, unstoppable.

“We do,” Rita replied gently. “We’re a family, us humans. And our extended family includes the other sentient races like the Marshandra and the Gryphusani. Did you always agree with your parents, Soren? If you had any siblings, didn’t you ever argue with them?”

He frowned harder, avoiding looking at her. “Yeah, but that’s different. That’s minor things. It doesn’t matter. Not like this. As a human family,” he said earnestly, “we always agreed on faith. That’s pretty important stuff. What happens if you’re wrong?” I mean..” He trailed off with a sharp sigh.

“Well,” she began slowly, not the least bit distressed, “I pretty much figure we’re all wrong. I don’t think any of us have all the right answers. What would we need to be here for if we did?” she asked with a smile.

Soren gazed at her, silent. When she put it like that it was hard to argue, but still… He sighed again, shaking his head as he looked away. Like the old man, she couldn’t understand how crucial it was for him to know that he was doing the right thing. Lives simply did not depend on them.

As if sensing this, she said quietly, “You know, if it’s all right for venators to eat us, and it’s all right for people to eat animals, then it ought to be all right for Cedrychads to defend their loved ones.”

He looked at her, but she had stopped to gently pry some moss from the base of a tree. “A vegetarian that doesn’t mind if I murder souled beings? You said you hate to see things die.”

“I do. I hate to see anything or anyone die. That doesn’t mean it isn’t going to happen.” She turned around and smiled, almost laughing. “Why, think how awful it would be if nothing ever died! Goodness!” She chuckled, a happy, contented sound. “Grief is part of life, just like death and love. People tend to want all the bad things to go away and only have the good things. But that’s not healthy, and it would be a poverty to the soul. Quite frankly, it would be downright boring.”

He smiled faintly. “So does that mean you think Heaven will be boring?”

She tilted her head coyly and brushed past him. “I think Heaven will be something different than what most people think.”

"Uh huh.” He resumed following her. “And do all of those little bugs go to heaven, or do some of them go to buggy hell?"

Rita laughed. "That's up to God. God gave us dominion over the animals, not because we're better than they are, but because we needed to learn to serve. Being in charge means you're responsible for something. A parent is responsible for a child. Does that make the parent better than the child? No. The parent serves the child."

"Fair enough. I still don't see that as giving animals souls. That way, when we get to heaven, we'd still have mosquitoes and lice. And if you're going to give bugs souls just because they're alive, now you have to have all the germs in heaven too. How can there be no sickness in heaven if we have little germ souls flying all over the place?"

Rita laughed again. "I don't see souls as being the package they ride around life in. Souls are the life force that makes the package alive. How can something die, how can it be alive, if it doesn't have a soul?"

"What about plants then?” he asked as she tucked another specimen into her bag. “Do plants have souls? They're alive."

"God created them. God is the life force that gives things life. The ancient writing listed the creation as being of one body with different parts. What if souls aren't what we think they are?"

"What are you getting at?"

"People always think of each soul as a separate entity. What if they're not?" "Parts of a whole, as in the whole creation,” said Soren, trying to cooperate. “All living things are intertwined with one another. They're interdependent."

"Well, actually that's not what I meant. That's true physically. I'm saying, what if the souls of all living things are really parts of one great spirit? What if that's how God was born?"

Soren gazed at her, remembering that she was very young. "That's a little far-fetched for me," he said gently.

"Okay," she allowed easily. "How about if all the different souls are parts of one individual who is in the process of being matter transmitted somewhere?"

"What?" he spluttered, not quite stifling his incredulous laugh.

She grinned at him, now clearly enjoying herself. "Stretch your imagination, Soren. Why limit yourself?" she asked, looking about and taking in the scenery around her. "Why couldn't we be the bits of one being, in the process of matter transmission? The infinite within the finite? The breaking up of a single unity into billions and squillions of little particles, all seeking to rejoin themselves into their proper whole again?"

"Well if they ever do figure out matter transmission for real, I'll avoid it! I don't want to take that long to come back together again!"

"Oh, pooh!" she scolded. "You wouldn't know the difference. It only takes a few seconds."

He smiled, catching on. "Infinite within the finite again? All of the history of man within the space of a few seconds?"

"All the history of the universe," she corrected.

"So do you really believe any of that?" he dared to ask, "or are you just playing 'what-if'?"

"About being particles in matter transmission?” She grinned. “Would you panic if I said yes?” She laughed before he could answer and shook her head. “No, I don’t believe that, but I won't deny it's possible either. No one really knows anything anyway. I don't want to tie myself down with a single belief, because then I'll have trouble changing it when I find out that I'm wrong."

"I'll bet you and Salt get along great," Soren said, smiling and shaking his head.

She smiled good-naturedly. "Yes, as a matter of fact, we do. What does it matter what kind of soul I am or have? All I really need to know is that I'm supposed to love and care. That is what’s important."