Free Dragon Dance by John Christopher Page B

him; he was amiable, but in a somewhat remote fashion, as he was to everyone.
    He couldn’t help wondering if it was tied up with that first encounter, with the voice in his mind as he floated in the borderland between sleep and waking. Or the illusion of the voice; he could no longer remember it vividly. He was in part glad not to recall the intrusion into his mental privacy, but the gladness was tinged with regret. Even though the impact had faded, he knew it had been an experience like nothing he had known before.
    The other person in the bonzery who interested him—naturally, because she was a pretty girl—was Li Mei. On a rare occasion when Brad was not in evidence, he tried talking to her but was met with smiling indifference. One afternoon, rather to his surprise, he found himself discussing the subject with Bei Pen.
    He had met him returning from the pagoda.Bei Pen asked where B’lad was, and Simon said he had gone off with Li Mei.
    â€œIt seems she prefers your friend. Does that trouble you?”
    â€œI’m not sure.” He paused. “No, I don’t think it does.”
    That surprised him, too, when he thought about it. There had been rivalries between himself and Brad over girls in the past, and he really ought to feel more strongly about this one’s indifference. But he didn’t; in a way, there was a sense of relief. He shook his head.
    â€œI don’t know why.”
    â€œThe affinities between male and female come from first mind. They have nothing to do with reason, much with illusion.”
    â€œFirst mind, second mind . . . I still don’t understand.”
    Patiently Bei Pen explained. First mind was the mind of God, the creator of the universe; and also the root of all living things which God had created. Second mind, the seat of awareness, of reasoning, was in the brain, and died when the brain died. First mind, like God, was immortal.
    â€œIt sounds the same as in our religion, except that instead of first mind and second mind we talk about body and soul. Well, soul and body.”
    â€œI know of your Christian beliefs,” Bei Pen said. “There are similarities. But Christians hold that only men and women have souls. That is arrogant; and untrue.”
    Disinclined for religious argument, Simon found distraction in the clouds billowing in over the plateau. It was the first time the blue sky had been invaded since their arrival.
    He said: “It looks as though it might rain.”
    Bei Pen nodded. “The crops require it.”
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    Brad came indoors when the rain started, looking cheerful.
    Simon asked: “Where’s Li Mei?”
    â€œShe went to the pagoda.”
    â€œWhat does go on there? Do you know?”
    â€œNo.”
    It was a negative which declared not so much ignorance as total lack of interest. Simon said: “I wonder what’s inside—some sort of temple?”
    Brad shrugged, indifferently.
    Simon felt exasperation building up. He said: “What’s wrong with you, Brad?”
    â€œWith me? Nothing’s wrong.”
    â€œYou were always the one who asked the questions. I can’t think why you’ve stopped.”
    â€œYou can ask too many questions,” Brad said. “Maybe I’m learning.”
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    It rained steadily for the rest of the day and throughout the night; but next morning the sky was once again clear and blue. Brad disappeared after breakfast, presumably in search of Li Mei. Simon could have joined one of the work parties, but didn’t. This was not from idleness. He had a feeling of restlessness and unease. Though there was nothing to be uneasy about: the sun was warm, the mountain air invigorating—all round there was brightness and peace.
    He was standing by one of the pools, watching fish move lazily in the clear water, when he sensed a nearby presence. Looking back, he saw Bei Pen.
    He