Robert Silverberg - A Long Night's Vigil at the Temple

“And if the faith is a false one, Mericalis?”

“We don’t know that it is.”

“We have our suspicions, don’t we?”

“To say that the Three never returned safely to the stars is heresy, isn’t it, Diriente? Do you want to be responsible for spreading heresy?”

“My responsibility is to promote the truth,” says the Warder. It always has been.”

“Poor Diriente. What have I done to you?”

“Don’t waste your pity on me, Mericalis. I don’t need it. Just help me find my way out of here, all right? All right?”

“Yes,” the custodian says. “Whatever you say.”

The passageway is much shorter and less intricate on the way out than it seemed to be when they entered. Neither of them speaks a word as they traverse it. Mericalis trudges quickly forward, never once looking back. The Warder, following briskly along behind, moves with a vigor he hasn’t felt in years. His mind is hard at work: he occupies himself with what he will say later in the day, first to the temple staff, then to the worshippers who come that day, and then, perhaps, to the emperor and all his court, down in the great city below the mountain. His words will fall upon their ears like the crack of thunder at the mountaintop; and then let whatever happen that may. Brothers and sisters, I announce unto you a great joy , is how he intends to begin. The Second Advent is upon us. For behold, I can show you the Three themselves. They are with us now, nor have they ever left us—