The spark, then, the spark from their God? How did they know they had it? In all the wrangling mysticism that had gone through so many directed misinterpretations, where could they find their God?
"Thinking it over?" Manny asked. "Why so quiet, Alix?"
Alix's grin was saturnine. "Believe it or not, I was thinking of God."
"Their God?"
Alix frowned. "I suppose. Theirs' and the sparrows'."
There were three spaced knocks at the door. Manny said, "Joe Nettleton. He wants to talk to you. We've got about eight minutes, Alix." He went to the door.
Joe Nettleton was tall, and pale and brown-eyed. The eyes should be lumagel, and Alix studied them, but could note no difference from those of a man.
Joe said to Manny, "He knows?"
Manny nodded.
Joe turned back. "Well—Alix—?"