And this time there was no smile on the Ihelian's broad face.
"Legend says all three," he replied.
"Legend? And yet you blindly obey—"
"We always have. Its writings, such as we understand them to be, have governed us for millenia, Lieutenant. The Book is our way, our life. We are told we could not be a civilization without it."
Mason was silent for a long moment. He did not want to question too deeply the beliefs sacred to another, yet it was so damnably peculiar. They fought bitterly, and they did not know why.
"Could you—would you let me see a copy of this Book, Kriijorl?"
"If I could I'd be glad to, Lieutenant. For I have often wished I could see the words it contains myself."
"You've never read it?"
"Never. Nor has any Ihelian or Thrayxite for thousands of years. There is, you must understand, only one Book of the Saints."
"Just one copy?"