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as thin as a fresco that has been peeled from its wall. "I have come from Perris to delve into the mysteries of Roum. I shall be here many years."
    "The Rememberer has fine stories to tell," said Gormon. "He is among the foremost of his guild. As you approached, he was describing to me the techniques by which the past is revealed. They drive a trench through the strata of Third Cycle deposits, you see, and with vacuum cores they lift the molecules of earth to lay bare the ancient layers."
    "We have found," Basil said, "the catacombs of Imperial Roum, and the rubble of the Time of Sweeping, the books inscribed on slivers of white metal, written toward the close of the Second Cycle. All these go to Perris for examination and classification and decipherment; then they return. Does the past interest you, Watcher?"
    'To some extent." I smiled. "This Changeling here shows much more fascination for it. I sometimes suspect

    his authenticity. Would you recognize a Rememberer in disguise?"
    Basil scrutinized Gormon; he lingered over the bizarre features, the excessively muscular frame. "He is no Rememberer," he said at length. "But I agree that he has antiquarian interests. He has asked me many profound questions."
    "Such as?"
    "He wishes to know the origin of guilds. He asks the name of the genetic surgeon who crafted the first true-breeding Fliers. He wonders why there are Changelings, and if they are truly under the curse of the Will."
    "And do you have answers for these?" I asked.
    "For some," said Basil. "For some."
    "The origin of guilds?"
    "To give structure and meaning to a society that has suffered defeat and destruction," said the Rememberer. "At the end of the Second Cycle all was in flux. No man knew his rank nor his purpose. Through our world strode haughty outworlders who looked upon us all as worthless. It was necessary to establish fixed frames of reference by which one man might know his value beside another. So the first guilds appeared: Dominates, Masters, Merchants, Landholders, Vendors and Servitors. Then came Scribes, Musicians, Clowns and Transporters. Afterwards Indexers became necessary, and then Watchers and Defenders. When the Years of Magic gave us Fliers and Changelings, those guilds were added, and then the guildless ones, the neuters, were produced, so that—"
    "But surely the Changelings are guildless tool" said Avluela.
    The Rememberer looked at her for the first time. "Who are you, child?"
    "Avluela of the Fliers. I travel with this Watcher and this Changeling."
    Basil said, "As I have been telling the Changeling here, in the early days his kind was guilded. The guild was dissolved a thousand years ago by the order of the Council of Dominates after an attempt by a disreputable Changeling faction to seize control of the holy places of Jors-

    lem, and since that time Changelings have been guildless, ranking only above neuters."
    "I never knew that," I said.
    "You are no Rememberer," said Basil smugly. "It is our craft to uncover the past."
    "True. True."
    Gormon said, "And today, how many guilds are there?"
    Discomfited, Basil replied vaguely, "At least a hundred, my friend. Some are quite small; some are local. I am concerned only with the original guilds and their immediate successors; what has happened in the past few hundred years is in the province of others. Shall I requisition an information for you?"
    "Never mind," Gormon said. "It was only an idle question."
    "Your curiosity is well developed," said the Rememberer.
    "I find the world and all it contains extremely fascinating. Is this sinful?"
    "It is strange," said Basil. "The guildless rarely look beyond their own horizons."
    A Servitor appeared. With a mixture of awe and contempt he genuflected before Avluela and said, "The Prince has returned. He desires your company in the palace at this time."
    Terror glimmered in Avluela's eyes. But to refuse was inconceivable. "Shall I come with you?" she asked.
    "Please. You must be robed and perfumed.