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tortoise blinked its one eye. It remembered the heat of the sun, the helplessness, and a face watching it not with any cruelty but, worse, with interest. Someone watching something die just to see how long it took. He'd remember that face anywhere. And the mind behind it-that steel ball of a mind.
"But "Has it occurred to you, lad, that I might not be able to do that and be down here walking around with a shell on?"
"You could do anything you wanted to," said Brutha.
Om looked up at Brutha.
He really believes, he thought. He doesn't know how to lie.
The strength of Brutha's belief burned in him like a flame.suppose something went wrong," it insisted."I'm not any good at theology," said Brutha. "But the testament of Ossory is very clear on the matter. They must have done something, otherwise you in your wisdom would not direct the Quisition to them.""Would I?" said Om, still thinking of that face. "It's their fault they get tortured. Did I really say that?"" `We are judged in life as we are in death' . . . Ossory III, chapter VI, verse 56. My grandmother said that when people die they come before you, they have to cross a terrible desert and you weigh their heart in some scales," said Brutha. "And if it weighs less than a feather, they are spared the hells.""Goodness me," said the tortoise. And it added:
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