“Tell me, Paul,” 2 Halleck said. “Does your mother know?”
The Preacher sighed. “To the Sisterhood, all achieved harmony simply by accepting it.
“Tell me, Paul,” Halleck said. “Does your mother know?”
The Preacher sighed. “To the Sisterhood, all of it, I am dead. Do not try to revive me.”
Still not looking at him, Halleck asked: “But why does she—”
“She does what she must. She makes her own life, thinking she rules many lives. Thus we all play god.”
“But you’re alive,” Halleck whispered, overcome now by his realization, turning at last to stare at this man, younger than himself, but so aged by the desert that he appeared to carry twice Halleck’s years.
“What is that?” Paul demanded. “Alive?”