mination to make the second one reality, along with his
already-expressed willingness to help, could be interpreted as implied
consent under one section of Godhome's programming. It took the computer
almost a minute to decide to use it, though. That interpretation was
perhaps questionable--but it wasn't forbidden, because it left Kranath
free to refuse. As long as that was true, Godhome felt justified. It
needed the best, and Kranath was the best; there was no reason to delay
the first step.

It began working, opening unused mental pathways to free parts of the
Traiti's mind that evolution would not normally bring into play for
several tens of millennia. Kranath was being brought to a greater
maturity than any organic intelligence currently inhabiting the Milky
Way Galaxy, receiving minor psionic abilities to prepare him for
further changes. Godhome would reverse the process later, if Kranath
refused the joining.

Shortly after the computer finished its work, Kranath awoke feeling
odd. Good, but abnormally . . . what? Strong, yes, and eagerly alert
. . . plus something he couldn't quite define. It was connected with how
he was seeing the room, he was sure of that--every detail was so bright
as to be almost luminous--but he felt something more.

He stood, not surprised to find himself dressed as he finished the
motion, or to see his sleeping mat replaced by a table set for
first-meal. Godhome, he thought, was certainly an obliging host.

"I try, my friend," came the mental voice, feeling richer and closer
than he remembered it. "Sit, eat if you wish."

If he wished? Kranath smiled. The food, again, was some of his
favorite--chunks of dornya meat scrambled into eggs, with bread and
corsi juice--so why would he not wish to eat?

Because, he discovered when he seated himself, he had no appetite. The
night's visions remained with him, so vivid and compelling that nothing
mattered except preventing the first and bringing about the second. He
stood again and began pacing, unable to sit still with the need for
action burning inside him.

But physical action was useless. He had to think. He was here to
learn, to decide . . . no. He had already made the decision that was
asked of him, though he realized there was still much he did not know.

What the gods wanted of him, as Godhome had said earlier, was not
minor. Their plans for him did not include the plans he had had for
himself before he crashed: life