Rezar spoke. "This is folly." He touched the disk in the fur of his own chest.
"No!" Kaliz cried.
"It is time," Rezar said. "We are beginning to fail in our mission." He spoke reverently into the disk, "My lord, awake."
Kaliz said quickly, "Raise New York! Take it up!"
"They will not obey you now," Rezar said. "I have invoked the counsel of the Master."
The man was frail and incredibly old. He had sparse white hair and a deeply lined face, but his eyes were alert and wise. He wore a cloak-like garment of soft, warm-looking material. His expression was one of kindliness but strength.
The doorbell had rung and Mrs. Garet had answered it. The old man had walked slowly into the room, followed respectfully by two Gizls.
"My lord," said Rezar. He got to his feet and bowed, as did the other Gizls. "I had hoped to let you sleep until your new world had been prepared for you. But the risk was great that, if I delayed, your world would never be. Forgive me."
"You did well," the old man said.