Well, he told himself, there was one way to find out.
He walked over to the wall and stood a few feet away from it, concentrating in the way he had been taught. He was still slower at it than the Gods themselves, and hadn't developed the knack of forming a Veil as he walked toward the place where he wanted it to be, as they had.
But he knew he could do it—if he was still allowed to.
Minutes went by.
Then, as the blue sheet of neural energy flickered into being, Forrester slumped in sudden relief. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
The Veil was there—but was it what he hoped, or a trick? Possibly he could focus the other terminal where he wanted it, but there was also the chance that the Gods had set the thing up so that, when he stepped through, he would be standing in the Court of the Gods facing a tribunal for which he was totally unprepared.
It would be just like the Pantheon, he thought, to pull a lousy trick like that.
But there was no point in dithering. If death was to be his fate, that would be that. He could do nothing at all by sitting in his room and waiting for them to come and get him.
He focused the exit terminal in Diana's apartment. There was no way of knowing whether the focus worked or not until he stepped through.
He opened his eyes and walked into the Veil.