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will come out in the apartments of the Bull himself. Is that what you want?"
The girl responded with a negative gesture, weak but quick. There was a great
fear in her eyes. It was not the fear of a soldier entering a losing battle,
or a captive going to execution, but great all the same. Though not as raw and
immediate as those particular kinds of terror, it was on a level just as deep.
Not death, only failure was in prospect, but that could be bad enough,
especially for the young.
He turned from her and went on, and heard no more of feet behind. Soon he came
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to where a waterpipe crossed the passageway, concealed under a kind of stile.
He had overseen most of the Labyrinth's construction, and was its chief
designer. This wall here on his left was as thick as four men's bodies lying
head to toe. Just outside, though you would never guess it from in here, was a
free sunny slope, and the last creaking shaddoof in the chain of lifting
devices that brought sea-water here by stages from the salt pools and
reservoirs below.
Choosing unthinkingly the correct branchings of the twisted way, he came out
abruptly into the central open space. Beyond the broad, raised, sun-dazzled
stone dais in its center yawned the dark mouths of the Bull's own rooms. In
the middle of the dais, like the gnomon of a sundial, stood a big chair on
whose humped seat no human could comfortably have perched. On it the White
Bull sat waiting, as if expecting him.
"Learn from me, Dae-dal-us." This was what the Bull always said to him in
place of any more conventional greeting. It had chronic trouble in sliding its
inhumanly deep, slow voice from one syllable to another without a complete
stop in between, though when necessary the sounds came chopping out at a fast
rate.
The Bull stood up like a man from its chair, on the dais surrounded by the
gently flowing moat of seawater that it did not need, but loved. It was hairy
and muscular, and larger than any but the biggest men. Though wild tales about
its bullhood flew through the House, Daedalus, who had talked to it perhaps as
much as any other man, was not even sure that it was truly male. The
silver-tipped hair of fur grew even thicker about the loins than on the rest
of the body, which was practically covered. Its feet Daedalus sometimes
thought of them as its hind feet, though it invariably walked on only
two ended in hooves, or at least in soles so thick and hard as to come very
near that definition. Its upper limps beneath their generous fur were quite
manlike in the number and position of their joints, and their muscular
development put Daedalus in mind of Theseus' arms.
Any illusion that this might be a costumed man died quickly with inspection of
the hands. The fingernails were so enlarged as to be almost tiny hooves, and
each hand bore two opposable thumbs. The head, at first glance, was certainly
a bull's, with its fine short snowy hair and the two blunt horns; but one saw
quickly that the lips were far too mobile, the eyes too human and intelligent.
"Learn from me, Dae-dal-us."
"We have tried that." The conflict between them was now too old, and still too
sharp,
to leave much room for formal courtesy.
"Learn." The deep and bull-like voice as stubborn as a wall. "The secrets of
the a-tom and the star are mine to give."
"Then what need have you for one more student, one worn old man like me? There
must be younger minds, all keen and eager to be taught. Even today a fresh
contingent has come from Athens for your instruction."
"You are not tru-ly old as yet; there are dec-ades of strong life a-head. And
if you tru-
ly learn, you may extend your life."
Daedalus curtly signed refusal, confronting the other across the moat's
reflected sky.
The King had had him raise the water up here for the Bull's pleasure,
evidently as some reminder of a homeland too remote for human understanding.
Some ten years ago the Bull had appeared on the island, speaking passable
Greek and asking to see the King, offering gifts of knowledge. Some said it
had come out of the sea, but the homeland it occasionally alluded to was much
more wonderful than that.
Daedalus said: "For the past few years I have watched the young men and women
going in here to be taught, and I have seen and talked to them again when they
came out. I do not know whether I want to be taught what they are learning.
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Not one has whispered to me the stars' or atoms' secrets."
"All fra-gile ves-sels, Dae-dal-us. Of lim-i-ted cap-a-cit-y. And once
cracked, good on-ly to be stud-ied to find out how the pot is made." The Bull
took a step toward him on its shaggy, goat-shaped legs. "For such a mind as
yours, I bring ful-fill-ment, nev-
er bur-sting."
It was always the same plea: learn from me. And always the same arguments,
with variations, shot back and forth between them. "Are there no sturdy,
capacious vessels among the students?"
"Not one in a thou-sand will have your mind. Not one in ten thou-sand."
"We have tried, remember? It was not good for me."
"Try a-gain."
Daedalus looked, around him almost involuntarily, then lowered his voice. "I
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