Warlord of Kor | Page 3

Rynason and the rest of the survey team.
They were trained archaeologists ... as well schooled as possible on the worlds of this
far-flung sector near the constantly outward-moving Edge, the limit of Terran expansion.
Rynason could operate and if necessary repair the portable carbondaters of the team, he
knew the fine points of excavation and restoration of artifacts and had studied so many
types of alien anatomy that he could make at least an educated guess at the reconstruction
of beings from fragmentary fossil-remains or incomplete skeletons ... or exoskeletons.
But the situation on Hirlaj was one which had never before been encountered; here he
was not dealing with a dead race's remains, but directly with members of that race. It was
not a matter of sifting fragmentary evidence of science, crafts and customs, finding out
what he could and piecing together a composite picture from the remains at hand, as they
had done with the artifacts of the Outsiders, those unknown beings who had left the ruins
of their outposts and colonies in six galaxies already explored and settled by the
Earthmen; all he had to do here was ask the right questions and he would get his answers.
Sitting there under that massive dome, with the quiet-eyed alien before him, Rynason

couldn't completely suppress a feeling of ridiculousness. The problem was that the Hirlaji
could not be depended upon to be able to find a particular memory-series in their minds;
the race memory was such a conglomeration that all they could do was strike randomly at
memories until the correct area was touched, and then follow up from there. The result
was usually irrelevant and unrelated information.
But he seemed to be getting somewhere now. Having spent three weeks with Horng,
gradually learning a little about the ways of his alien mind, he had at last run across what
might be the important turning-point in the history of Hirlaj.
Horng spoke, and Rynason turned to watch the stylus of the interpreter as it moved across
the paper. TEBRON SPENT HIS YEARS BRINGING HIRLAJ TOGETHER. FIRST
BY CONQUEST THEN BY ... LEADERSHIP LAW. HE FORBADE ... SCIENCES
QUESTINGS EXPLORATIONS WHICH DREW HIRLAJ APART.
"What were these sciences?"
Horng closed and opened his eyes. MANY OF THEM ARE FORGOTTEN.
Rynason looked up at the alien, who sat quietly on a rough stone benchlike seat. "But
your race doesn't forget."
THE MEMORIES ARE VERY FAR BACK AND ARE HARD TO FIND. THERE HAS
BEEN NO EFFORT TO RETAIN CERTAIN MEMORIES.
"But you can remember these if you try?"
Horng's head dipped to one side, a characteristic movement which Rynason had not yet
managed to interpret. The shadowed, wrinkled eyes closed slowly. THE MEMORIES
ARE THERE. THEY ARE THE SCIENCES OF KOR. MANY OF THEM ARE
WARLIKE SCIENCES.
"You've mentioned Kor before. Who was he?"
KOR WAS IS GOD KNOWLEDGE.
Rynason frowned. The interpreter automatically translated terms which had no reliable
parallel in Terran by giving two or three related words, and usually the concept was fairly
clear. Not quite so with this sentence.
"God and knowledge are two different words in our language," he said. "Can you explain
your term more fully?"
Horng shifted heavily on his seat, his blunt fingers tapping each other. KOR WAS IS
EXISTENCE WHICH WE WORSHIP OBEY ADMIRE FOLLOW. ALSO ESSENCE
CONCEPT OF KNOWLEDGE SCIENCE QUESTING.
Rynason, watching the stylus, pursed his lips. "Mm," he said softly, and shrugged his

shoulders. Kor was apparently some sort of god, but the interpreter didn't seem capable of
translating the term precisely.
"What were the sciences of Kor?"
There was a silence as the stylus finished moving across the paper, and Rynason looked
up at Horng. The alien's eyes were closed and he had stopped the constant motion of his
leathery grey fingers; he sat immobile, like a giant statue, almost a part of the complex of
the hall and the crumbling domed building. Rynason waited.
The silence remained for a long time in the dry air of the empty hall. Rynason saw from
the corner of his eye one of the dark little scavengers darting out of a gaping window. He
could almost hear, it seemed, the noise of the brawling, makeshift town the Earthmen had
established a little less than a mile away from the Hirlaji ruins, where already the nomads
and adventurers and drifters had erected a cluster of prefab metal buildings and were
settling in.
"What were the sciences of Kor?" Rynason asked again, not wanting to think of the
cheapness and dirt of the Earth outpost which huddled so near to the Hirlaji domes.
He felt Horng's quiet gaze, heavy with centuries, resting on him. THEY WERE ARE
THOSE SCIENCES QUESTINGS WHICH KOR PROCLAIMED INFORMED WERE
SACRED PART OF THE ESSENCE.
"Part of Kor?"
Horng's