“But there’s something else.” Kimber sat down on the stool again, his elbows resting on his knees, his chin supported by his cupped hands.
“What do you know about the Temple of the Voice?”
Dard. still intent upon the problem of the cold sleep, was startled. Why did Kimber want to know about the innermost heart of the neighboring Pax establishment?
The ’Voice” was that giant computer to which representatives of Pax fed data—to have it digested and to receive back the logical directives which enabled them to control the thousands under their rule. He knew what the “Voice” was, had had it hazily described to him by hearsay. But he doubted whether any Free Scientist or any associate of such proscribed outlaws had ever dared to approach the"Temple” which housed it.
“It’s the center of the Pax—” he began, only to have the pilot interrupt him.
“I mean— give me your own description of the place.”
Dard froze. He hoped that his panic at that moment was not open enough to be marked. How did they know he had been to the Temple—through that mysterious digester which had picked over his memories while he was unconscious?
“You were there—two years ago,” the other bored in relentlessly.
“Yes, I was there. Kathia was sick—there was just a chance of getting some medico to attend her if I could show a ’confidence card.’ I made a Seventh Day visit but when I presented my attendance slip to the Circle they asked too many questions. I never got the card.”
Kimber nodded. “It’s okay, kid. I’m not accusing you of being a Pax plant. If you had been that, the digester would have warned us. But I have a very good reason for wanting to know about the Temple of the Voice. Now tell me everything you can remember—every detail.”