The Memory of Earth by Orson Scott Card Read Free Book Online

language,” she said. “We are always given more than we can possibly comprehend, and we can comprehend far more than we’re able to put into words.”
    Luet had a voice of such simple power. Not like the chanting sound that the witches and prophets of the inner market used when they were trying to attract business. She spoke as if she knew, as if there was no possibility of doubt.
    “Let me ask you, then, sir. When you saw the city on fire, how did you know it was Basilica?”
    “I’ve seen it a thousand times, from just that angle, coming in from the desert.”
    “But did you see the shape of the city and recognize it from that, or did you know first that it was Basilica on fire, and then your mind called forth the picture of the city that was already in your memory?”
    “I don’t know—how can I know that?”
    “Think back. Was the knowledge there before the vision, or was the vision first?”
    Instead of telling the girl to go away, Father closed his eyes and tried to remember.
    “When you put it that way, I think—I knew it before I actually looked in that direction. I don’t think I actually saw it until I was lunging toward it. I saw the
flame
, but not the burning city inside it. And now that you ask, I also knew that Rasa and my children were in terrible danger. I knew that first of all, as I was rounding the rock—that was part of the sense of urgency. I knew that if I left the trail and came to that exact spot, I’d be able to save them from the danger. It was only then that it came to mind what the danger was, and then last of all that I saw the flame and the city inside it.”
    “This is a true vision,” said Luet.
    Just from that? She knew just from the order of things? She probably would have said the same thing no matter
what
Father remembered. And maybe Father was only remembering it that way because Luet had suggested it that way. This was making Nafai furious, for Father to be nodding in acceptance when this twelve-year-old girl condescendingly treated him like an apprentice in a profession in which she was a widely respected master.
    “But it wasn’t true,” said Father. “When I got here, there
was
no danger.”
    “No, I didn’t think so,” said Luet. “Back when you firstfelt that your mate and your children were in danger, what did you expect to
do
about it?”
    “I was going to save them, of course.”
    “Specifically
how
?”
    Again he closed his eyes. “Not to pull them from a burning building. That never occurred to me until later, as I was walking the rest of the way into the city. At the moment I wanted to shout out that the city was burning, that we had to—”
    “What?”
    “I was going to say, we had to get out of the city. But that wasn’t what I wanted to say at first. When it started, I felt like I had to come to the city and tell everybody that there was a fire coming.”
    “And they had to get out?”
    “I guess,” said Father. “Of course, what else?”
    Luet said nothing, but her gaze never left his face.
    “No,” Father said. “No, that
wasn’t
it.” Father sounded surprised. “I wasn’t going to warn them to get out.”
    Luet leaned forward, looking somehow more intense, not so—analytical. “Sir, just a moment ago, when you were saying that you had wanted to warn them to get out of the city—”
    “But that
wasn’t
what I was going to do.”
    “But when you thought for a moment that—when you
assumed
that you were going to tell them to get out of the city—what did that feel like? When you told us that, why did you know that it was wrong?”
    “I don’t know. It just felt . . .
wrong
.”
    “This is very important,” said Luet. “How does feeling wrong
feel
?”
    Again he closed his eyes. “I’m not used to thinking about how I think. And now I’m trying to remember how it felt when I thought I remembered something that I didn’t actually remember—”
    “Don’t talk,” said Luet.
    He fell silent.
    Nafai wanted to yell