"The next part is not exactly boring, but it is a lot of the same thing.   Obviously, Charianna and the empperor established a world wide religion that brought peace and equality and freedom for all men and women and we don't need to dwell on the day to day aspects of all that.   Suffice it to say that this is what I'd had in mind all along.   Instead, we need to go forward in time now a few generations so that you can see how something that started out so promising went so horribly wrong." Perki said in a resigned voice.

   "Well, let me just say a couple of things first.   You don't have to do this.   And you're doing a very good job of telling it!"

   With the resigned look still firmly in place Perki replied, "Yes, I do have to do this!   If anyone ever sees this besides me and you and Weslee it will serve as a warning to others not to do as I have done!   Oh, and thanks for saying what you did about my poor writing efforts."

   We got back in Edgar once again and once again Weslee had changed his T shirt.   This one sported this logo: "Ask Alltutha if the journey is really the destination and I bet he'd beg off!" Thinking that Weslee's witticisms were getting a bit deep, I told Edgar where we wanted to go this time and we were gone.

****************************************************************************

   Sankalara, the great grand daughter of Tarlmissa, had always known that the mantle of power would someday be offered to her.   But not this soon!   She wasn't ready!   And might never be!   For one thing; it was too soon.   And for another; she was too young!   There was only one thing to do, then.   She had to run away and hide!   But where would she go?   She could always go to some other part of the Starry Kingdom, but that wouldn't be any good for a couple of reasons.   She wouldn't be hiding, she'd be lost.   Well not really lost.   Instead she'd be nobody.   And she didn't want to be nobody, she just didn't want to be the Grand Matron.   Not yet!   And in any case that was first thing her pursuers would think of.   And since she'd stand out like a sore thumb, she'd be easily found.   After a bit more thought, the answer was obvious.   She'd have to hide right under their noses.   That was the last place anyone thought to look.   Yes.   Simple was better.   Now all she had to do was get out of the tabernacle undetected.   And she had to hurry. They'd be coming for her soon, surely, with their detestable offer.

   Sankalara looked at her friend, Pashli, with one last shred of hope.   "Is it certain that my mother is dying?"

   Pashli, a short, petite, black haired girl, with elfin features, golden brown eyes, and who was many years younger (being only twenty)than Sankalara, even though they looked comparable in age, regarded her friend gravely.   "Yes.   You know as well as I do that even the PQ can't keep a person alive forever.   After all your mother IS 900 years old and the ability to use the PQ begins to break down in a person that old.   Granted your grandmother lived to be 1000, but --"

   Sankalara knew what Pashli meant.   But it did seem unfair that her mother was dying so soon and forcing this issue on her.   She knew that entropy had something to do with it; that the longer the PQ was used by a certain family the weaker it got.   But that's all she wanted to know.   She had plenty of living planned to do before she had to face the end.   And she wasn't in any hurry to find out the exact details about this entropy thing.   Nor was she in any hurry to become something she didn't want to be.   SO -- she'd better get moving then!   Especially if HER life was going to be even shorter than her mother's.     After a bit more hard thought she said to Pashli, "Well, tell me this.   You don't know where I went, right?"

   Pashli looked at her friend with a certain amount of envy.   Sankalara had it all. The best physical features: Beautiful blood red hair, jade green eyes, a slim figure, golden freckles across her nose and a face that was strikingly attractive.   The best staying power: Sankalara was 250 years old and could easily pass for 21. And she came from the Best Lineage: The Starhm Family.   And here Sankalara was complaining about being handed the family power!   Pashli would NEVER understand her friend, she guessed.   But she was Sankalara's friend and friends did what they were asked to.   Faithfully!   Sighing, Pashli replied, "Yes, er I mean no, I will have no idea where you went if asked!   Er, um, WHERE are you going?"

   Sankalara chuckled at her friend's confusion.     "Never mind that!   If I need to get in touch with you I'll find some way.   I just have one more request!   Will you help me alter my appearance?"

   Pashli gave Sankalara a completely bewildered look.   "Why?   I mean, you could just do that yourself with the PQ!   So why do you need my help?"

   Sankalara considered Pashli for a moment.   She'd met the girl when her parents had come to the tabernacle to work for her family and it had been a mutual attraction from the moment they'd first talked.   Sankalara had often forgotten that Pashli was NOT the same age she was.   Nor was Pashli as wise as her.   Keeping that idea firmly in her mind, Sankalara responded.   But she couldn't teasing the girl a bit, saying with a stern look, "Pashli, Pashli, Pashli!   You know the minute I do something like that the priests will sense it."

   Pashli gave her a crestfallen look, hunching her shoulders as if she was afraid that Sankalara might slap her or something for being stupid.   "Oh, of course!   I knew that!   I did!   I just forgot!"

   For a moment Sankalara wasn't sure if Pashli WAS afraid of her.   Then she saw the wicked gleam in Pashli's eye.   Reaching across the bed where they both were sitting, Sankalara hugged her friend and got a hug back.   When they broke the embrace Sankalara held her friend at arm's length for a moment.   "OK.   Now that we've got that established, you will help me won't you?"

   Pashli broke the embrace and looked her friend square in the eye.   "But Sanki, I'll miss you!"

   This could be trouble.   Pashli didn't usually call Sankalara by her pet name unless she was really feeling some deep emotion.   Sankalara cut her off.   "It's not like you'll never see me again.   When everything has blown over and they've picked someone else -- as they'll have to -- then I'll come back and we'll see each other everyday again."   Sankalara gave her friend a look, pleading for understanding and co-operation.

   "But I don't want you to leave!" Pashli cried, dangerously close to tears.

   Sankalara was tempted at that moment to use the heavy hand and order her friend to help her.   After all, Pashli was also a servant.   But she knew she couldn't do that in the same instant.   It had to be through friendship -- or not at all.   "Look.   Pashli.   Would you want to doom me to a life that I don't want?   I'm not trying to blackmail you here, but I know if I was you, I wouldn't want my friend to be unhappy.   And I will be unhappy if I have to stay here and become someone I don't want to be."   She smiled encouragingly at Pashli.   "And I don't want to rush you, but you know I need your answer now!"

   Pashli thought a moment, fighting back her tears.   Sankalara was right.   It sounded like blackmail.   But it wasn't.   And Sankalara was right about something else. She DID need the answer before it was too late.   It was all so unfair, though!   But she couldn't doom her friend like this, could she?   She slumped forward in captitulation.   "OK.   You're right.   I'm just being selfish.   But you promise you WILL come and see me again?   Soon?"

   Having finally reached a meeting of minds the two friends set about altering Sankalara's appearance.   First they cut Sankalara's long red hair so that it no longer reached her waist, but instead barely reached to her collar.   Then they dyed it dark black like Pashli's, even going as far as dyeing Sankalara's eyebrows. When that was done, with the aid of bit of judicious padding sewn into Sankalara's new clothing, they made Sankalara look much heavier and frumpier.   At last Sankalara took off her dark blue outer cloak and her heavy brocade purple dress and stood nearly naked in front of her friend.   Getting into the brown trousers, the plain white peasant shirt and the green vest, Sanklara added the forage cap, with it's jaunty feather and stood in front of the mirror.   There was almost a different person standing there, looking back at her. "Um, Pashli, we still need to do something about my face.   I still look like me."

   Pashli regarded Sankalara for a moment.   "I see what you mean.   Wait!   I have it."   She left the room and was gone for several minutes.   Sankalara was beginning to be afraid that Pashli had had second thoughts or that someone had intercepted her when Pashli suddenly reappeared.

   In her hand she was carrying a case.   She set it down on the table beside the mirror and started opening it.   "What's that?" Sankalara asked, craning her neck, trying to see into the case.

   "You remember my uncle who was a clown before he died?" Pashli asked, starting to take items out of the case.   Sankalara nodded uncertainly.   "Well, anyway, when he died my father, who was the youngest child in the family sorta of inherited all my uncle's stuff.   I guess no one else wanted it.   I have here all the items he used to change his appearance.   Surely we can find something -- AH!   Yes! I have it!" Pashli stated, triumphantly, holding out what looked like putty in one hand and what looked like two small brown hemispheres in the other.

   Sankalara regarded the substance in Pashli's hand dubiously.   "What do we do with that?"

   "Well, it's a special substance that will look like skin when dried.   With it we can change your facial features enough that no one will recognize you.   And these are inserts that you wear in your eyes to change their color.   Then with a little judicious blending and covering of make-up your appearance should fool anyone!"

   Sankalara was still dubiously eying the substance in Pashli's hand.   "I can see where the eye inserts would be OK.   But how do I get the stuff off once I'm out of here?"

   "Oh!"   Pashli rummaged around in the case a bit more and finally emerged with a little blue jar in her hand. "This stuff melts the false skin stuff." You just dab it in and after a bit the false skin melts and you can pull it right off like wet paper."

   Sankalara was still a bit dubious, but she told Pashli to go ahead.   When Pashli was through, Sankalara looked in the mirror and saw a stranger looking back at her!   A stranger with a beaky nose, puffy cheeks, a too sharp chin and muddy brown eyes.   It was going to work!   No one would recognize her.   Now.   If the solvent didn't work like Pashli said or she had trouble with it, Sankalara knew she could always remove it with the PQ -- once she was far enough away from the Capital.   Before she lost her nerve, Sankalara gave Pashli a quick kiss and hug and promise to keep in touch and left her quarters, heading for the side door of the Tabernacle.

   She had almost made it to the side door when her disguise faced it's first test.

   Molotark, one of the Priests, and -- worse yet! -- the priest that was also the Major Domo of the household, saw her and said, "Halt!   Who are you?   What business do you have here?   This is the hallway leading to the Grand Matron's family's quarters!"

   Sankalara grinned inwardly before answering.   With a low bow she said in the most deferential voice she could manage, "I am sorry, Sire.   I was looking for the servants quarters.   I needed to deliver a message to one of them and must have taken the wrong door."

   With an inward groan Sanakalara realized that she had spoken in her own voice.   Wincing, and hoping it would look like she was cringing, Sankalara waited to see what Molotark's reaction would be.

   It was OK.   Obviously he was fooled by her appearance and took no note of the sound of her voice.   She sighed quietly in relief.   "Well, see that you are more careful in the future!   Now, leave!"   And he stood there waiting to make sure she did.

   Sankalara hurried to the exit.   And just like that she was free!   Well, not quite! She still had to make it the destination she had in mind.   Would she get there and be able to go to ground before she was missed?

   Keeping to back alleys and avoiding people as much as possible -- at least near the tabernacle and in the main part of the city where it would be more likely that she would be rocognized, despite her disguise -- Sankalara made her way towards the edge of the city.   Once there she was going to head out into the country side and join the people of her Great-great grandfather, Jevstan.   At least that was her plan.   If they would accept her, despite the fact that she had not kept in touch with her relatives on her Great-great granfather's side of the family, then surely she would find security and anonymity there.   Even though Fremala was a world wide paradise, Jevstan's people were still common folk, living much as Jevstan and Charianna had before the advent of Perki.   That meant that they were not as concerned with The Religion as much as other people were.   In fact, if Sankalara had heard right, they had their own religion still.   And that should mean that they would not be in any hurry to turn her in.   She hoped.   If they didn't think her a spy or something equally unlikely

   She made it to the edge of the city without any incident.   She stood there a moment, looking back at the tabernacle glistening silver and gold in the early morning sun and bid good-bye to her "childhood".   Without any further regret she began to look for a stable.   She had brought plenty of money with her, so as soon as she found a stable, she rented a horse and was off.

   It was nearing sundown when she came in sight of the Suskani village.   She stopped about three hundred feet from the village, pulling into a copse of trees for temporary concealment.   Sore from riding for several hours, Sanakalara, dismounted and risked tapping into the PQ just briefly, to ease her soreness.   She knew she was risking someone sensing the use, but she didn't care.   It had been a long time since she'd been on a horse, she could harldy walk and, besides, even if someone did sense it, they still had to find her and recognize her.   Feeling much better, she lead the horse out of the trees and towards the village.   Still, she approached cautiously.   Not because they would have sentries who would shot first and ask questions later -- not in this safe age!   But because she wanted to go over -- one more time! -- the story she'd made up on the trail.   Satisfied that she had weaved the best story she could, she advanced more boldly and quickly.

   She was spotted by a little boy who was playing with a dog at the edge of the village.   He stopped and stared at her.   The dog, a black and white mutt, obviously feeling the PQ simmering in her mind, didn't growl or challenge her.   Instead it sat down on it's haunches and regarded her with one ear cocked and it's tongue lolling out.   The boy looked at the dog and then her with amazement.   "This is the best guard dog in the whole village!" the boy blurted out.   "Why isn't he tearing you to shreds?"

   Sankalara gave him the best smile her disguised face could manage as she suspected that the boy was exaggerating about the tearing to shreds part.   "I come in peace.   Perhaps the dog knows that?"

   Without saying another word to her, the boy ran off into the village shouting the name of someone; a name she couldn't make out.   After giving her a friendly woof, the dog got up and followed the boy into the village, but at a more leisurely pace, his black and while tail wagging in the breeze.   Sankalara just stood there by the horse waiting patiently, savoring the smells of cooking coming from the peublo and relishing the feeling of the cool twilight air.

   After a few more minutes a man came walking back up the main street of the village, following the boy and the dog.   When he was a few feet from where Sanakalara stood he stopped, looked her over closely and finally asked, "Who are you?   And what do you want?"

   It's show time!   Now's my chance to stretch my acting muscles! Sankalara thought sarcastically.   Then she sobered.   With lips suddenly stiff and her mouth as dry as sand, she said, "May a poor traveler rest here awhile?"

   He didn't answer right away, and not knowing what else to do at the moment, Sankalara stood and studied him a bit more closely.   Could he be one of her relatives?   That was not a sure thing since the Suskani were a loose confedration of peoples, but he sure looked like he might be.   He looked like pictures of Jevstan Sankalara had seen.   He had the same black hair worn long in a braid and, vaguely, the same physical features.   And he was tall and lean and dark skinned like Jevstan had been.   Suddenly Sankalara decided to take a chance.   Abandoning her carefully crafted story, she removed the eye inserts, retrieved the little blue bottle, removed the false skin and said, "I am Sankalara, great grand daughter of Tarlmissa!   And I seek shelter.   Will you help me?"

   The little boy stood there gaping at her with wide eyes and open mouth as if she were some kind of magician -- or maybe witch!   Scooting out of sight behind the man, he peeked around the man's leg at her.   The man looked surprised too, but for just a moment.   "Sankalara?   I have heard of you!"   He stopped speaking for a moment and looked like he was doing some kind of figuring in his head.   Seemingly satisfied with his computations, he continued, "I am Herappaki, your third cousin, if I have it figured right, a direct descendant of Jevstan and the elder of this village.   But I do have one question.   You look like pictures we have seen of Sankalara with the make-up off.   But if you really are Sankalara, where is the long family red hair?"

   Sankalara ran her fingers through her hair. "This?   It's just been dyed. And cut. I'll wash the dye out later and you'll see."

   Herrapki gave her a measuring look for a long moment.   Obviously deciding to trust her -- for now, he finally smiled at her, "Will you join us then?"

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