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〃Why would I want that？〃 Gentle said。
〃Because you're your Father's son；〃 came the reply。 〃And what your Father wants； so will you。〃
Despite all his caution； Gentle couldn't help but give the destroyer a sour look。
〃No？〃 it said。
〃No。〃
〃Then we're both without gifts to give；〃 it said and； turning its back； rose and went from Gentle without another word。
He didn't call after it for directions。 There was only one way to go now； and that was on； into the heart of the me tropolis； choked though it was by gaud and elaboration。 He had the power to go at the speed of thought； of course； but he wished to do nothing that might alarm the Unbeheld； so took his spirit into the garish gloom like a pedestrian； wan dering between edifices so fraught with ornament they could not be far from collapse。
As the splendors of the suburbs had given way to deca dence； so decadence had； in its turn； given way to pathology； a state that drove his sensibilities beyond distaste or antipathy to the borders of panic。 That mere excess might squeeze such anguish out of him was revelation in itself。 When had he bee so rarefied？ He； the crass copyist。 He； the syba rite who'd never said enough； much less too much。 What had he bee？ A phantom aesthete driven to terror by the sight of his Father's city。
Of the Architect Himself； there was no sign； and rather than advance into plete darkness Gentle stopped and simply said； 〃Father？〃
Though his voice had very little authority here； it was loud in such utter silence； and must surely have gone to every threshold within the radius of a dozen streets。 But if Hapexamendios was in residence behind any of these doors； He made no reply。
Gentle tried again。 〃Father。 I want to see you。〃
As he spoke he peered down the shadowy street ahead； looking for some sign； however vestigial； of the Unbeheld's whereabouts。 There was no murmur； no motion。 But his study was rewarded by the slow prehension that his Father； for all His apparent absence； was in fact here in front of him and to his left； and to his right； and above his head； and beneath his feet。 What were those gleaming folds at the windows； if they weren't skin？ What were those arches； if they weren't bone？ What was this scarlet pavement； and this light…shot stone； if it wasn't flesh？ There was pith and marrow here。 There was tooth and lash and nail。 The Nullianac hadn't been speaking of spirit when it had said that
Hapexamendios was everywhere in this metropolis。 This was the City of God； and God was the city。
Twice in his life he'd had presentiments of this revelation。 The first time when he'd entered Yzordderrex； which had been monly called a city…god itself and had been； he now understood； his brother's unwitting attempt to recreate his Father's masterwork。 The second when he'd undertaken the business of similitudes and had realized； as the net of his ambition enpassed London； that there was no part of it； from sewer to dome； that was not somehow analogous to his anatomy。
Here was that theory proved。 The knowledge didn't strengthen him but； instead； fueled the dread he felt； thinking of his Father's immensity。 He'd crossed a continent and more to get here； and there'd been no part of it that was not made as these streets were made； his Father's substance replicated in unimaginable quantities to bee the raw materials for the masons and carpenters and hod carriers of His will。 And yet； for all its magnitude； what was His city？ A trap of corporeality； and its architect its prisoner。
〃Oh； Father；〃 he said； and perhaps because the formality had gone from his voice； and there was sorrow in it； he was finally granted a reply。
〃You've done well for me；〃 the voice said。
Gentle remembered its monotony well。 Here was the same barely discernible modulation he'd first heard as he'd stood in the shadow of the Pivot。
〃You 've succeeded where all the others failed；〃 Hapexa… mendios said。 〃They went astray or let themselves be crucified。 But you； Reconciler； you held to your course。 〃
〃For your sake； Father。〃
〃And that service has earned you a place here；〃 the God said。 〃In my city。 In my heart。〃
〃Thank you；〃 Gentle replied； fearful that this gift was going to mark the end of the exchange。
If so； he'd have failed as his mother's agent。 Tell Him you want to see His face； she'd said。 Distract Him。 Flatter Him。 Ah； yes； flattery！
〃I want to learn from You now； Father；〃 he said。 〃I want to be able to carry Your wisdom back into the Fifth with me。〃
〃You've done all you need to do； Reconciler；〃 Hapexamendios said。 〃You won't need to go back into the Fifth； for your sake or mine。 You 'II stay with me and watch my work。〃
〃What work is that？〃
〃You know what work；〃 came the God's reply。 〃I heard you speak with the Nullianac； Why are you pretending ignorance？〃
The inflexions in His voice were too subtle to be interpreted。 Was there genuine inquiry in the question； or a fury at His son's deceit？
〃I didn't wish to presume； Father；〃 Gentle said； cursing himself for this gaffe。 〃I thought You'd want to tell me
Yourself。〃
''Why would I tell you what you already know？〃 the God said； unwilling to be persuaded from this argument until He had a convincing answer。 〃You already have every knowledge you need…〃
〃Not every one；〃 Gentle said； seeing now how he might 。 divert the flow。
〃What do you lack？ 〃 Hapexamendios said。 〃I'll tell you everything。〃
〃Your face； Father。〃
〃My face？ What about my face？〃
〃That's what I lack。 The sight of Your face。〃
〃You've seen my city；〃 the Unbeheld replied。 〃That's my face。〃…〃There's no other？ Really； Father？ None？〃
〃Aren't you content with that？〃 Hapexamendios said。 〃Isn't it perfect enough？ Doesn't it shine？〃
〃Too much； Father。 It's too glorious。〃
〃How can a thing be too glorious？〃
〃Part of me's human； Father； and that part's weak。 I look at this city； and I'm agog。 It's a masterwork…〃
〃Yes； it is。〃
〃Genius。〃
〃Yes； it is。〃；
〃But Father； grant me a simpler sight。 Show a glimpse of the face that made my face； so that I can know the part of me that's You。〃
He heard something very like a sigh in the air around him。
〃It may seem ridiculous to you；〃 Gentle said； 〃but I've followed this course because I wanted to see one face。 One loving face。〃 There was enough truth in this to lend his words real passion。 There was indeed a face he'd hoped to find at the end of his journey。 〃Is it too much to ask？〃 he said。
There was a flutter of movement in the dingy arena ahead； and Gentle stared into the murk； in the expectation of some colossal door opening。 But instead Hapexamendios said； 〃Turn your back； Reconciler。〃
〃You want me to leave？〃
〃No。 Only avert your eyes。〃
Here was a paradox： to be told to look away when sight was requested。 But there was something other than an unveiling afoot。 For the first time since entering the Dominion； he heard sounds other than a voice： a delicate rustling； a muted patter； creaks and whirrings stealing on his ear。 And all around him； tiny motions in the solid street； as the monoliths softened and inclined towards the mystery he'd turned his back upon。 A step gaped and oozed marrow。 A wall opened where stone met