CHAPTER 6The girl Zina said, "I have something for you."
"A present?" He held out his hand, trustingly.
Only a child's toy. An information slate, such as every young person had. He felt keen disappointment.
"We made it for you," Zina said.
"Who is that?" He examined the slate. Self-governing facto- ries turned out hundreds of thousands of such slates. Each slate contained common microcircuitry. "Mr. Plaudet gave me one of these already," he said. "They're plugged into the school."
"We make ours differently," Zina said. "Keep it. Tell Mr. Plaudet this is the one he gave you. He won't be able to distin- guish them from each other. See? We even have the brand name on it." With her finger she traced the letters I.B.M.
"This one isn't really I.B.M.," he said.
"Definitely not. Turn it on."
He pressed the tab of the slate. On the slate, on the pale gray surface, a single word in illuminated red appeared.
VALIS
"That's your question for right now," Zina said. "To figure out what 'Valis' is. The slate is posing the problem for you at a class-one level . . . which means it'll give you further clues, if you want them."
"Mother Goose," Emmanuel said.
On the slate the word VALIS disappeared. Now it read:
HEPHAISTOS
"Kyklopes," Emmanuel said instantly. Zina laughed. "You're as fast as it is.,'
"What's it connected to? Not Big Noodle." He did not like Big Noodle.
"Maybe it'll tell you," Zina said.
The slate now read:
SHIVA
"Kyklopes," Emmanuel repeated. "It's a trick. This was built by the troop of Diana."
At once the girl's smile faded.
"I'm sorry," Emmanuel said. "I won't say it again out loud even one more time."
