you that the change is not a marked one." He paused.
"For all these reasons," he finished, "I am sure that you can see why we
must subject you to further tests."

"I understand," Forrester said vaguely.

"Good. Now, you will not know whether a given incident--any given
incident--is a perfectly natural occurrence or a test imposed on you by
the Pantheon. Can you understand that?"

Forrester nodded.

Vulcan levered himself upright, his ugly face smiling just a little.
"And remember what I have told you. No worrying. You don't even know
just what any given test is supposed to accomplish, so you can't know
whether the action you choose is right or wrong. Therefore, worrying
will do nothing for you. You will be at your best if you simply behave
naturally."

"I'll try."

"Remember, also, that you were picked not merely for your physical
resemblance to Dionysus, but your psychological resemblance as well.
Therefore, playing his part should be comparatively simple for you.
Right?"

"I guess so," Forrester said, feeling both expectant and a little
hopeless about it all.

"Fine," Vulcan said. "Now wait one moment." He turned and limped over to
a structure that looked like a sort of worktable. When he came back, he
was carrying several objects in his big hands. He selected one, an ovoid
about the size of a marble, colored a dull orange, and handed it to
Forrester. "Swallow that."

Forrester took it cautiously. As soon as he found out what he was
supposed to do with the thing, its dimensions seemed to grow. It looked
about the size of a golf ball in his shaking hands.

"_Swallow_ it?" he said tentatively.

"Correct," Vulcan said.

"But--"

"This object is a--well, call it a talisman. It will not dissolve, and
it is recoverable, but for the Investiture it must be inside you."

"But--"

"You will find it so easy to swallow that you will need no water. Go
ahead."

Forrester put the thing in his mouth and swallowed once, just to test
Vulcan's statement. The effect was surprising. He could barely feel it
leave his tongue, and he couldn't feel it go down at all. He swallowed
again, experimentally, and explored the inside of his mouth with his
tongue.

"It is gone," Vulcan said. "Good."

"It's gone, all right," Forrester said wonderingly.

"The sandals are next." Vulcan selected a pair of sandals with rather
thick soles and handed them over. They were apparently made of gold.
Forrester obediently strapped them