The attendant, a Temple novice, showed benign pleasure at his words.
"Could I not be of service, my son?"
Telis shook his head. "The words of the High Superior have caused me to reweigh the values of my long and sinful life. Brother Gorla has long been my spiritual father and counsellor. I must see him." It was not altogether a lie. The kindly old scientist's words had made him think a bit, in spite of himself. The old man had seemed so sure. And Gorla had long been his source of advice and even companionship for a good five haads.
The novice was disappointed, but understanding. He departed to waken Brother Gorla.
Three quarters of an hour of darkness remained when Gorla appeared at the door. Telis met him, looking carefully up and down the hall to see that they were alone. How careless these Temple people were with their prisoners!
"Telis, my friend! What is it? Brother Alto said that you needed some...." Gorla began.
Telis measured him carefully and swung. With all the power and co-ordination of a soldier's superbly conditioned body behind it, Telis' fist caught the Priest on the point of his jaw and knocked him sprawling to the thick carpet. Quickly dropping to his knees, Telis relieved the fallen man of his two swords and stun-gun. He strapped them to his own harness and looked about for a means of reviving the Priest. Taking the wine bottle from the table, he splashed some of the dark fluid into Gorla's face. For a moment, Telis had the feeling that it had all been too easy. But he drove the misgivings from his mind and concentrated on the next steps in his break for freedom.
The young Priest sat up fingering his jaw gingerly. There was a reproachful look in his eyes.
"Telis, you can't escape if that's what you intended by striking me. Give me back my weapons."
Telis smiled savagely. "Oh, no, my good and faithful friend. Now get up. Up I say, or I'll spit you where you lie!"